Cipritine was a strange city, strikingly similar to a miniature fortress. The massive spires looked delicate, but high above in the skycars, I could see the interior fortifications to the steel cases. The glass looked bullet proof, I would bet my ass that the steel wasn't even steel, maybe titanium or some other reinforced metal? Something that didn't melt or yield so easily at least. I spied the lattice reinforcements, a drifting thought turning to a Reaper invasion. Would this be enough to stop them? I doubted it somehow.
I glanced to Val as he led the convoy of 10 skycars through the maze above the capital of Palaven. Squashed in the back, Mat'al and Julian pretended the other didn't exist. I bit my pinkie as the looming citadel that was the HQ of the turian Hierarchy. The protruding spire that marked its location had a square foundation of 10 to 20 story buildings hugging each side, sprawled out in some strange geometric shape I couldn't get my head around without a clear overhead view. If the night time shadows didn't make this labyrinth any spookier than it already was, all that was needed was rain and lightning to complete the mood.
The skycars docked on an upper courtyard as turian guards swarmed to meet us. One look from me removed any fingers sitting on triggers. Well, most of them anyway, they had been expecting me but still didn't trust me. With the moons competing against the streetlights to stain the city in colour, my surviving tacticians, a handpicked crew selected by Julian and the pair of us to top it off, we marched to the admiral waiting. The dark brown female turian looked like she had emerged from some cracking wars. Half a mandible was missing and she looked blind in one eye. But she tracked me with no bother. I saluted once I reached her.
"Admiral." I greeted.
"Captain," she said, scanning the team behind me. "The Primarch is waiting. This way," she spun on her feet, stalking towards a set of armoured doors. I followed, I was used to this cold shoulder treatment by this point. Julian scanned the turians we passed. He earned levelled or narrowed eyes. I ignored them, blaming my brother's inability to control his testosterone levels.
The halls were decorative; pulses of red light trailed between the gaps in the steel panelling, swirls dancing like Damascus steel along its surface. Turians swarmed the halls, blocking the view to the digital displays of turian war successes. I kept my eyes straight. If I wanted to see the turian chest pounding so badly, Val could supply me with the needed information. A tall gothic arch shaped door hissed, separating into four pieces, spreading away from the centre to bury itself in the walls.
The war room was an oval room mounted on 4 tiers, the Primarch on a higher perch at the opposite end of the room to the one I entered. I got the impression of a court or a parliament debate room, only the space in the middle of the room was a massive projector. The room was packed, turians of too many ranks to name compressed into the room, igniting the air with a noisy buzz. Once people noticed my presence, a cold hush fell over us. The Primarch, attentive on the highest perch before me, sat straighter. The Admiral led me onwards, onto the flat projector. She saluted.
"Primarch, Captain Shaik has arrived," she said.
"Thank you, Admiral. Return to your position," Fedorian ordered, the admiral saluting once more before marching away. I stepped forward, saluting.
"I apologise for the delay, Primarch, the hospital wanted to keep me under observation for an extra week," I explained. "Is the situation stable?" Fedorian's mandibles flared.
"Ah…somewhat," he grumbled. I frowned. "I hope you have an experienced team, Captain, and a fast ship,"
"What the fuck happened?" I moaned. I earned several mutters and looks, but I ignored them.
"A dreadnaught, 3 cruisers and 6 frigates have stopped contacting us. Worse, the frigates are making dry runs on several bases on our moons," Fedorian explained. He swept an arm out to an empty tier to the left of us, front row. I nodded, Julian's team mounting the stairs first, with Julian and I following, my crew fell in behind me. "I hope you have a good team,"
"Don't worry about that, give me the details on these ships," I said. Fedorian dropped his gaze to a control pad beside him. A turian beside him clamped his mandibles together with an audible snap.
"Primarch Fedorian, with all due respect, the PFS Sarlik is a secret prototype," the silver male hissed. I grumbled at his protest. "We can't share such information with a huma-"
"Oi," I snarled. The turian glowered. "I am putting too many lives on the line to save your sorry asses. Now give me what I need to know, so I can make sure my people live another day or else I will walk away and leave you deal with this yourself," I threatened. "Good luck with the Saboteur," I added. The turian glanced to the Primarch, who looked gave the turian a cold stare and clipped his mandibles. The turian stepped back. Fedorian tapped something with a talon, several screens floating up with a 3D hologram of the Trebia System in the middle.
One screen held a turian frigate, it seemed to be borrowing ideas from the humans or salarians. It still had the classic turian shape, but the edges were rounded, the wings were more streamlined towards the body and I spied four engines curved on the rear of the ship, with an additional, smaller engine on the tip of the wings. This thing looked more manoeuvrable than the Starquake. I glanced to Julian, he was shaking his head. I clucked my tongue.
The dreadnaught looked intimidating, the thing blotted out the frigates with sheer size alone. That and even I wasn't blind to the main gun of this thing. I didn't want to go up against it, not with a single frigate. It would tear right through us… the cruisers didn't fill me with any confidence either. God, what was I going to do here?
"What have you tried so far?" I asked.
"We have tried to destroy what we can, but the PFS Sarlik has caused several complications. It out-manoeuvres everything we throw at it. It has already destroyed 4 cruisers alone. We do not wish to put a dreadnaught anywhere near it and with it protecting the other ships, we can do little to seize these ships," Fedorian explained. I stretched my vision towards Mat'al, the salarian catching it.
"Well, if we can't out-manoeuver it, we'll just have to lure it into a trap or ambush it," I mused. "I doubt pure firepower alone could do it… is there no way to disable the drive core from a distance?"
"The STG had a few prototypes, but it relied on the ship standing still long enough to be hit," Mat'al answered.
"Then we'll be forced to do this the old fashioned way. How many fighters can you muster?" I asked Fedorian.
"A few thousand, we have been gathering as many as we can spare for an all-out assault. We also have 12 cruisers, 31 frigates and 2 dreadnaughts," a dark bronze female responded, on a lower tier in front of Fedorian. Was that enough ships to take on this small, speedy frigate? I glanced to Julian.
"What of the Constellation?" I asked in a hushed breath.
"The Constellation is not a direct combat ship," he answered, equally quiet. "It's a carrier for fighters, frigates and cruisers. That's why we always have cruisers flanking it. We can do limited cover fire but other than that, we need the cruisers and frigates," I frowned. Not what I wanted to hear…
"What can you spare?" I asked.
"The Corvus is a modified turian frigate, faster than most of their modern ones due to its size. Not as quick as this thing though. Best bet would be to ensnare and overwhelm it. Not much else you can do," Julian said. I grumbled.
"No way to trap it? Lure it somewhere and take it out? If it's making dry runs on the moons, then surely the moons have equipment we can use to shoot down frigates?" I suggested more loudly.
"And what would that do?" a dark grey male turian grumbled. "It is too fast,"
"Not if we pin it down with ground based artillery and fighter fire," Val shrugged. I glanced to him. "Throw enough bullets in the air from enough directions and something is bound to hit. We need to hinder it before the frigates can close in to finish it off. A few swarms of fighters and the necessary forces to keep that dreadnaught and the cruisers busy and we should control the battlefield,"
"Do we have enough resources?" I asked.
"Send me the numbers and I'll bulk up the fighter numbers," Julian mumbled, discontent. I nodded.
"We have some resources available, send us the numbers and we'll see what we can add to it," I called to Fedorian. The turian nodded, sitting back as the holograms changed. Now it looked more like a tactical board game.
I held in my whine, praying I could remember what strategy Mat'al had crammed into me.
I tapped a foot, waiting anxiously for one of the small Starquake shuttles to be coaxed out of the hold while Julian barked orders to his nearby captain as the crew loaded up the Andromeda. Beside me, a sulking son stripped of his powers. He grumbled as the shuttle was eased to the ground, Kai already boarding to get the shuttle warmed up for take-off. The tactical meeting had taken hours. Had I not been so aware of how many lives were at stake, I would have fallen asleep. Now, I had to ensure another life would be safe. I walked Gideon to the shuttle, aware of Julian's casting gaze after me as I hopped up into the shuttle. Gideon complained as he dumped a bag on one of the chairs and crawled into the co-pilot seat, clamping the harness over his shoulders.
"Shepard will meet you at Citadel Docking Bay D81, I've already gotten the clearance sorted for you to land on the shuttle platform next to it. The Normandy will rendezvous with us after everything has settled down. Shepard has assured me there is enough space for another shuttle onboard so if there isn't, you have my permission to smack him," I explained as I passed the clearance codes to Kai's omni-tool.
"Roger that, Captain. Although I don't think he would appreciate me raising a hand to him," Kai chuckled.
"He'll get over it," I grumbled. "Ok, Gid. Be good and don't pick up any bad habits," Gideon sulked.
"I don't know him…" he complained.
"I know, but I am not having you anywhere near this warzone, Gid. Too much can go wrong. Besides, Garrus and Tali are there, I know them. I trust them. They'll keep you safe," I ruffled his hair, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. He only whined, a discontent sound.
I hopped out of the shuttle, ensuring the door was secure before returning to Julian, glancing to it as it floated towards the darkness of space. I scanned the port side of the Starquake, the shining metal was about to get some war paint on it. I just hoped they didn't dent it too much. I snorted at the thought, returning to the omni-tool on my wrist. I came to a halt beside Julian.
"You are making the right choice here, Dell. Saboteurs love to use our weaknesses against us," Julian uttered. I hmmed in agreement as soldiers began mounting the ramps to the frigates waiting.
"I just hope the Saboteurs on the Citadel don't try anything," I sighed as I spied Imperious marching over from across the dock.
"Then let's hope whoever you sent him to can protect him," Julian remarked. I folded my arms, glowering at the floor as Imperious stopped beside me.
"Shaik," he greeted.
"Imperious," I said. "Everything ready?"
"Aye, the shuttle we're in in prepped and ready to go," he answered. I frowned.
"Shuttle? Doesn't… exactly spell safe," I remarked.
"Stealth shuttle, we'll be dropped off by one of the frigates once we get close to the dreadnaught," he shrugged. "Standard practice,"
"For you," I grumbled. He smirked. "Julian, keep yourself alive please, and try not to let the Starquake get totalled, she's only just come out of dry dock,"
"Shall try," he said as more of his men ran up to him, awaiting orders. I fell in beside Imperious as he led us to a group of shuttles parked on the far side of the dock. I set my eyes on the door, setting my jaw as I prepared for one of the largest battles I had ever been a part of. I hopped inside with Imperious, a small strike team of turians close behind.
I sat in the shuttle, a leg crossed over the other as I gazed at the live feed before me. I wore my war face like a helmet, but even then, my heart fluttered when the Starquake flitted past the screen, a cruiser's hail of bullets in hot pursuit. The frigate carrying our shuttle was skirting the now active battlefield. Two dreadnaughts released a reckoning on the unsuspecting enemy dreadnaught, the flanking cruisers overwhelmed by sheer cruiser and frigate fire. Far from the field, the Constellation watched like a sentinel, a small swarm of fighters released in bursts before returning for any quick repairs. Julian wanted minimal losses. Either that or the people flying out the Constellation are those suspected to be indoctrinated. Either way, 85% of the fighters were turian.
Imperious reviewed the dreadnaught schematics in preparation for the boarding. I was joined by a small turian strike team, one of the best from what I had been told. It didn't improve my mood. I wish I had Mat'al or Val with me, but they were needed to command the Starquake. Mat'al was temporarily captain, Raisha didn't have this sort of experience, so she was XO until she learned the ropes. Val had to run the combat systems and teams, Indira and Shayan were in charge on the ship integrity. While I mourned that I was with an unfamiliar team, I knew my own crew was in safe hands.
The real problem wasn't these slower, lumbering ships. We had more than enough frigates to deal with them. It was the PFS Sarlik. The ship flashed past the screen before me, a small firebomb exploding in front of it as a friendly turian frigate collapsed under its fire. We tried to push it towards Menae where the heavy artillery was waiting, but the damn thing was too nimble and squeezed out of every net we placed. Because of that, the plan was to disable the other ships ASAP. Without them, we could concentrate the entire fleet on it.
Our frigate rocked as a bullet knocked into the shields. I snorted, an automatic sign of my discomfort. Imperious chuckled before me, enjoying watching the greener soldier crack. I scowled at him. He smiled innocently enough, but I was not comforted by his glances to the team around us. We'd be leaving the frigate soon. Once they had opened a gap for the shuttle in the armour, we could start our mission. It was just a matter of time.
On cue, a large explosion on the enemy dreadnaught opened a sizable hole in the cargo deck, boxes of supplies sucked out from the explosive decompression before the mass effect field kicked in. The shuttle's engines hummed, I felt us move. I blinked once and we were into the darkness of space, an 'invisible' shuttle in cloud of bullets. My eyes skirted the darkness of space coated in pinpricks of light through the cockpit and my hand tightened on my knee. I didn't even realise until my knee started aching. I was forced to release each finger, a deliberate act that required more willpower than I liked.
The harness kept me from wriggling around, but perhaps Imperious spotted my nerves. He said nothing, calculating whether it was nerves or excitement. My eyes were fixated to the hole. About 10 seconds before touchdown, the harnesses released and the shuttle bounced into action. Guns cocked and loaded, tech and biotic armour flared up, specialised ammo lit up the guns like a colourful ornament, helmets were pulled on and visors sprang to life. I hovered in the middle of the mess, my prime position throughout the mission. My goal was simple. The Saboteur. That was the only reason I was here. No one else had any Saboteur training or experience aside from Imperious.
The shuttle landed hard. I was saved from banging my head or falling by the crush of the people around me. I felt the shuttle spin as it gorged a trail in the floor, I heard the bullets pelting off the kinetic barrier. The soldiers on the sides raised omni-shields before the doors opened. When those doors did open, the mass of bodies shielded me from the sight of the gates of hell but they sure didn't deafen it. Rancid screams and gunfire greeted us. The shield wall crept forward, the shields holding for a time. The soldiers behind them brought out their own shields, covered the old shields and the two rows swapped places. We marched forward until we found some cover behind some containers. Then the real fighting commenced.
The turians that that held the cargo bay looked exhausted and bloodied, as if there had been a mutiny on board. I frowned, keeping low as the team around me dealt swift deathblows to the weakened crew. The dreadnaught shuddered with the impacts of the sea of frigates weaving around it. It was too slow to out-manoeuvre frigates. With the fall of the turians within the cargo hold, the shield wall was summoned and we began to press deeper into the dreadnaught.
The skirmishes seemed disorganised, judging by how quickly they fell to the wall of 25 well trained turians. Something didn't sit right in my gut, a sensation that there was something more at play. I kept my Paladin in my hand, scanning the corridors as we weaved deeper into the dreadnaught. The body count tallied up with each shot, the turians were not taking any prisoners from the looks of things. The corridors were already coated with bullets and blood before we even reached them. Why would they fight?
Eventually, we reached the command hub, a massive room of computer banks with a shaking admiral on the highest tier. Only a scattering of turians littered the room. They didn't put up much of a fight. Well aimed shots smashed the near broken turians into the ground. We moved to surround the turian admiral. Imperious' frame hid me from view. The chocolate coloured turian could only gawk at the team. They pinned him down with guns. He whimpered as he dropped to his knees.
"I-I swear I-I didn't, I didn't know they were-" he whimpered.
"Silence," Imperious snapped. The turian quivered under the aimed weapons. "Shaik,"
I had to identify the Saboteur, but with the iris checks now gone, there was only one other sure fire way to know if this was a Saboteur. I stepped out from behind Imperious, reluctantly accepting that RIT would be the first thing I would do once I stepped onto the Starquake. I slowed my breathing, trying to blot out the external sounds of the whimpering man. I felt my heart beat in my chest, settled after its near death incident with Sitoln. After a moment, a second pulse fluttered, shaking my bloodstream.
It was steady. I frowned. No voices, no visions, nothing. Sometimes I would hear a muffled voice for a second or two but otherwise nothing. I ignored the headache crawling up from the base of my neck as I came to my conclusion. I hoped it was the right conclusion.
"He's not… he's not the Saboteur. I'm… reasonably certain on that," I tested, swaying as shadows crept in my peripheral vision. Imperious clicked his mandibles.
"I suggest you start talking, Admiral," Imperious growled. The turian on his knees turned to me, the only person he seemed to think had any mercy left in them.
"I-I swear, I swear on the Spirits, I was just following orders!" he pleaded. Imperious snarled, but I rested a hand on his rifle. His gaze locked to me. Hope lit the fallen admiral's eyes.
"From the beginning. What is going on?" I asked. The turian tried to lower his hands, thinking it save, but the guns at his head clicked and his hands were once again by his head.
"A-Admiral Dysinteous told us that Palaven was in danger and that we had to amass the fleets to find this foe and strike before they came into the Trebia system. H-He didn't say who the enemy was, just that we had to prepare to protect the planet. Then the next thing we know, every other ship starts shooting at us! I-I tried to order my men to stand down but they refused. They kept fighting! I-I was followed my orders! I didn't know that he wanted to commit mutiny against the hierarchy, I swear!" the turian explained.
"This admiral, where is he?" I asked.
"I-I don't know. He was onboard, b-but everything started going to hell and he disappeared," the turian said. Imperious glanced me as he nodded to his men. They grabbed the turian and handcuffed him. I folded my arms as I scanned the abandoned, bloodied CIC as a team of two vanished with him down the hall.
"You sure he isn't the Saboteur?" Imperious asked as he came up beside me.
"Not really," I shook my head. He frowned at me. "Thing is, after the attack on the Starquake, our sure fire way of detecting them has been removed. Until we find something else, we need to be more cautious," Imperious snorted.
"Great, now what?" he asked.
"We find this Admiral Dysinteous," I glanced to the blur that was the PFS Sarlik. "And I think I know where he is," Imperious followed my gaze. He moaned.
"Of course he would be there," Imperious growled. "Alright, we'll clear out the dreadnaught and then give this back to the turian forces," I nodded as I raised a finger to my ear.
"Shaik to Shaik, do you to read?" I called.
"I read, what is the situation?" Julian's voice crackled over the radio.
"We believe the Saboteur is not onboard, just some poor bastard who got caught in the middle of his plans. We think they may be on the PFS Sarlik," I said.
"Dammit, I suppose that was too much to hope for. Roger that. Over and out," Julian answered. I turned to Imperious as I studied the battlefield from the computers before me.
"Doesn't taking down this dreadnaught make the dreadnaughts useless then? Against 3 cruisers and 6 frigates…" I asked, arming the Locust as we armed ourselves for the coming battle.
"Depends on how the battle goes," Imperious said, arming the assault rifle as he passed me small, silver clip for my gun. I turned strange object in my hand before slipping it inside the handle of my Locust, twisting a few settings. A hologram of light purple decked the sides of my gun, phasic ammo, as I recall. "If all goes well, the dreadnaughts can give us suppressive fire," I fell in beside Imperious as we explored this massive ship.
Whether these turians were indoctrinated or not was not a concern. As far as Imperious' orders were concerned, if they refused to stand down, kill them. I don't think I saw a turian that wanted to stand down and surrender. Imperious knew I was green, that I didn't have anywhere near the same experience he did, so he kept me close, gave me tips and hints, even let me order his men around to give me practice. Blue blood flowed in small rivers down the corridors of the dreadnaught. The numbers we faced were not great by any stretch. Turians who realised what had happened and came to their senses had already fled the ship, those who remained either stupid or indoctrinated.
As another body flopped on the floor, the space fight outside moved into phase 2. The dreadnaught was, for now, done. The batteries had silenced and the threat level had dropped. From what I could hear on the radio, three of the cruisers had been either destroyed or disabled with teams now securing them. The frigates were more difficult, only 1 had been procured. With the dreadnaught disabled, the remaining ships turned their attentions to the other ships. The lumbering cruisers would quickly fall to the dreadnaught slugs.
It was about then that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up to attention. I scanned the empty halls as the final turian in the area fell, trying to pinpoint the source of my caution. I wouldn't have seen it. The entire dreadnaught quaked. I yelped, grabbing hold of a wall rib as the floor below me trembled. My eyes flew to my omni-tool, scanning the battlefield schematic. Dread filled my stomach.
The remaining enemy cruisers and frigates seemed to realise the end was nigh. Instead of concentrating on the rest of the fleet, their guns were now locked on the dreadnaught. I grit my teeth as another hail of bullets pounded through the shields. Imperious barked, a rallying cry. We flocked to his side as we stumbled down the halls, seeking escape.
It was about that time that the cruiser's bullets began to take their toll. I staggered as explosions rang throughout the dreadnaught. The sounds deafened me, but I kept my eyes on Imperious' men and struggled forward.
The hiss of my suit warned me to hold on to something.
I grabbed the wall, my mag-boots activating through the safety algorithm on my suit, a new edition after our run in with Alurylna. With my feet pinned and my hands clasped on the wall, the hallway before me erupted. The fire died soon enough, but the rushing wind of decompression deafened me, the sounds of screeching metal died as the metal tore to reveal the darkness of space. The silence settled as the broken pieces of ship floated away. The sound of my breath echoed in my ears, my heart thundered. My fingers refused to release their hold.
"Shuttles are on the other side!" I heard Imperious shout in the radio. I blinked, staring as half of the dreadnaught slipped away from us. "Move it!" he ordered.
As the turians started to leap over the distance, small bursts of light pushing them in the necessary direction, I struggled to release my death grip on my hold. I couldn't breathe, my vision swam before me, worsening with each finger released. When I finally pried the final finger off, I was hyperventilating. A cold sweat broke out on my skin, my suit too cold, too cramped. I stared at the abyss, at the drifting hull. The darkness was spreading, the pinpoints of light. Explosions in the distance carried no sound, only brief flashes. I took a step forward towards it. My limbs felt heavy, slow to respond. I prepared to jump. I belt my knees, finger trembling over the mag-boot disable command on my omni-tool. I swallowed, staring at my feet as I pushed myself onto my toes.
I couldn't move.
"Shaik!" Imperious cried. My eyes snapped up, barely catching the tiny form of Imperious over the distance. "What are you doing? Come on!" he barked. I bit my lip until it bled, but my knees trembled, shadows creeping through the corners of my vision. I couldn't breathe. Nyryntha purred.
I couldn't do it. My finger couldn't push that release button. My feet couldn't push me off. All I saw was flashes of streaks of light, of the painful silence. The helplessness…I could barely see Imperious and his crew now as the bow of the dreadnaught twisted up. My limbs felt heavy and sluggish. I squeezed my eyes shut. My feet spun around and I began a long march towards the nearest door. I grabbed the door, the red hologram ignored. I pulled panels off to find the releases to force it open. The air from the room rushed out once a gap opened up. I clung to the door as I waited for the hiss to pass. With the pressure now equalised, I pushed the door open enough to squeeze in. I heaved it shut, the clamps locking vibrating the door.
The room repressurised, sound reaching me. My breath was drowned out by alarms, my thundering heart was not as prominent with the slamming sounds of my boots. I finally snapped the mag-boots off, walking freely once more. My limbs now once more my own. The shadows threatening to blind me retreated, my breathe slowing and my heart evening out. I scanned the red stained room, the flashing light far more welcome than whatever awaited me back there.
Now I had to escape the dreadnaught, somehow.
I backtracked to the CIC, Paladin armed. The empty halls concerned me, I didn't see a single soul onboard. Even the CIC was dead. I approached a panel, flipping through the various menus as I scanned what remained of the ship. I was glad I was on the drive-core side of the ship, although I had I feeling that was long dead at this point. Emergency generators powered what was necessary. I scanned the ship, looking for some way off this damn wreck.
The consoles showed that there was an entire deck that acted as a fighter hanger about 9 floors down, near the cargo hold. It stretched the entire length of the ship with bulkheads separating the hangers. I tapped a finger. I had little experience flying, hell, flying a shuttle was terrifying enough as it was. But I had no choice now. I sent the map to my omni-tool, drew the Paladin and meandered my way down to the hanger.
I met about 3 turians the entire way. One was manically in their attempt to kill me, eyes wild and roaring wildly. An Incinerate sent the turian sprawling and two bullets put them down. The other two were properly trained. Poking out from behind the corner was near suicidal without Marshal. The drone flew down the halls, drawing enough fire for me to end the fight. But nothing else crossed my path.
The hanger was blessedly pressurised, but with the main exit an active bulkhead, getting a fighter out would be difficult. As soon as that bulkhead cracked open, everything would rush forward. I could only hope the emergency generators had the power to create a mass effect field. I scanned the room, trying to ignore the fire spreading from the upper decks. Eventually, I conceived a plan.
The explosive decompression would rip everything out unless I pinned it down, and the only thing available was a mass effect field. A few fighters were within mass effect fields, but they were open. All the junk behind them would pass in and wreck the fighters. I approached one of these mass effect surrounded fighters, trying to judge what the whole thing was for and if there was anything I could do to protect them. These mass effect fields wallowed the fighters to be moved since cranes were not all that usable in a dreadnaught. I searched through a control panel by the fields, noticing an option that brought metal sides to cover the fighter for transit.
With an idea brewing, I tapped a few options on my omni-tool and scanned the controls. A copy materialised before me for remote access. Pulling myself inside the small turian fighter, I wished sorely for an instructor. I pulled the shoulder straps over and secured the 5-point harness. I hit a button to close the canopy. The engines whined, the whole fighter humming in preparation for take-off. I flipped a hologram on, the weapon systems activating. I fired a few missiles at the bulkhead. The metal creaked, strained, the pressure difference weakening. I saw the metal was ready to buckle. I hit the button to cover the fighter. Metal sheets slipped free from the sides, the top securing last after the 4 sides locked into place. I only hoped that the box was locked to the floor.
I braced, every muscle tense as a horrific screech was followed by an almighty bang. The seconds ticked by, but I didn't feel the box spin or move. Nothing seemed to hit the box either. I counted to 120. Each second made me question my sanity about this whole plan. Eventually, I commanded the console to open the box. The plates folded away. I sighed, a heavy sound. A was greeted by a mass effect field filling the open bulkhead. I eased the ship off the floor, praying I could remember what I had to do to not crash. I applied enough thrust to ease me forward. My breath hitched in my throat, a panic settling over my shoulders as the stars surrounded me. I squeezed my hands, listening to the armour and combat materials creak and click. My breath released once I realised I had control of my limbs. I turned to the controls, ignoring the mass of circles and targeting systems highlighting objects and foes, applying thrust. The fighter flew onwards, away from the dreadnaught.
The explosive decompression and cleared the entire deck of the dreadnaught, the bulkhead now two or three ripped pieces floating away from the wreck. The whole ship was split into 3 pieces, the rear where I had escaped from, the bow where Imperious was and the wings which had been blown off. I skirted the edge of the battlefield, trying to figure out what to do next. Who to radio? My radio had been silent since I had been separated from Imperious. I raised my omni-tool, flicking through the frequencies.
"RSS-2 Starquake, do you read? This is Dell," I called. I listened to the radio noise as a warning highlighted my need to dodge a stray bullet.
"We read you, Dell, what's with the frequency change?" I heard Lanster call.
"I think my radio is messed up or something, I'm not receiving anything," I responded. "I need pickup, I've escaped on a fighter,"
"Roger that, are you ok to land? We can direct you to the Constellation if you need more room," Lanster asked. I bit my lip as I considered the idea.
"Give me a vector to the Constellation, if I'm going to scratch anything up, I'd rather it be Julian's toy," I replied.
"You are so generous," Julian replied dryly over the radio. I grinned. "Vectors sent, are you alright?"
"For now, on my way over. I'll need to get back onto the battlefield ASAP," I added more sternly. Julian didn't respond, so I followed the blue line on the screens before me towards the rear of the battlefield. I passed the two friendly dreadnaughts. The Constellation loomed before me, flanked by all the cruisers and frigates except the Corvus.
I flew into the belly of the beast, watching a swarm of fighters slip out into space themselves. I followed the guidelines until I was 10 decks above where we normally docked. An asari waved me down, indicating a pad on the deck itself. I set my jaw and I tapped a few buttons, activating the automatic landing system. Blessedly, the fighter had the program otherwise I would have been screwed. With the engines shutting down, I popped the canopy off. I eagerly freed myself from the fighter and dropped onto the deck.
"Captain, report to the frigate deck, the admiral is waiting," the asari greeted. I nodded.
"Thank you," I said, walking for the elevator. I kept my gaze on the door, keeping my jaw taut as I tried to figure out what else would happen on this damn battlefield. I needed that Saboteur dead, wherever they were.
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