Author's Notes: Thank you for your patience. As always, life keeps me busy, but at least it showed me a bit of mercy by allowing me to get this done. And oh boy, did I go all out! I expected something long, but not to this extent. The scenario I had envisioned was much simpler, but I suppose if my brain wants to add more complications, I should be grateful that it's still working.
Enjoy!
"Illusive Team, this is Bravo Team. Can you hear us, over?
"Team Illusive, this is Bravo Leader. We've been assigned to extract you. We've crossed the Chucktowne Line and are in the general vicinity. Send any intel on your location, over."
"Bravo Leader, this is Illusive Leader. I'm located at Block 72, the Red Coast Building. Hostiles present. Repeat, hostiles present. How copy?"
"Crystal, Illusive. Got your location locked. As you're deep in enemy territory, our team will get to you via Golf Tangos. Interrogative, is the roof clear and intact enough for a standard rooftop extraction, over?"
"Roof is most likely intact, Bravo. However, that's a no go on the standard. I'm surrounded by hostiles. Once I start making my way to the roof, they'll be all over my ass. Has to be quick, over."
"Affirmative, Illusive. We'll be using Golf Hotels for extraction. How copy?"
"Affirmative, Bravo. Will hold until your mark."
"Interrogative, how many people are in your team, over?"
"It's just me and my package. I'll explain everything once you've extracted me, over."
"We'll be arriving at your location soon. Bravo out."
"See you soon."
"Are you sure I should go with you?" John asked as he carefully, almost hesitantly, put on the borrowed gravity harness over his upper torso. "I haven't been trained for a Gravity Tether drop and Gravity Hook extraction."
"Not like we have a choice," Dave replied, securing his own borrowed gear. "It's at least a three-man operation, so unless you're better at targeting than the lieutenant, you'll have to do."
"It'll be fine," Mark assured him as he double-checked his harness and weapons. After a few seconds, he glanced back at John. "GTs and Hs are pretty much the same as a standard insertion anyway."
"Really?" John asked as he finished securing his gear. "That's good to hear."
"Oh, yeah," Dave added, his tone slightly sarcastic, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. "It's definitely the same—except it's fifty times faster and three times more mathematically complex."
John paused, looking from Dave to Mark. "What?" he asked. "Mathematically complex?"
Mark raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah," he replied. "We'll be traveling at subsonic speeds, so you'll need a solid formula to adjust your grav-emitters when needed. That's the most important part of a tether drop."
John stared at him for a moment before glancing down at his harness. "I thought a GT was just about attaching a gravity point to the target, and the emitters would detect it and pull us in," he said, confused.
"Sure, in a perfect world," Dave replied as he finished securing his gear. "But you have to be ready in case the point was placed incorrectly. We're talking about a margin of error of at least a hundred and fifty feet, and in an urban setting like this, that could mean landing outside the target's perimeter—or even on the next building."
"And then you have to deal with external anomalies," Mark added. "Micro gravity wells in worlds under a chronosphere, weather, hostile attacks..." He noticed John giving him a sullen look and chuckled. "Relax. I'll have Eva send you my calculations to get you started."
"You have a formula that will work for a complete newbie?" John asked.
"Oh, he's got formulas for days," Dave replied. "Mine's actually a variation of his. Very generous, right?"
"Generous, my ass," Mark scoffed. "You asked me to design one specifically for you in exchange for Japanese fatty beef."
"It's called Wagyu, you uncultured swine," Dave shot back.
"I'm more concerned that I haven't even gotten it yet," Mark countered with a smirk. "So, where's my beef, asshole?"
"Tell you what," Dave offered, "if we get through this, I'll order us a bunch of steak cuts directly from Shin Kansaikei."
"Isn't that where they grow the cows old school, without chronospheres to speed up the process?" John asked. "That's pretty expensive."
"Still the cheapest way to shut him up," Dave replied with a chuckle.
Before Mark could respond, all three heard Amira's voice call out, "Gentlemen."
They turned to their right and saw their leader inside a tube terminal attached to the wall, her eyes closed as if she were asleep. Only then did they remember she was logged into the mediship's system and speaking to them through the comms.
"The mediship is getting into position," she continued over the comms. "We'll be anchoring approximately four klicks from the target. Approach angle should be around forty degrees. I need you three on location within thirty seconds after your jump."
Mark closed his eyes for a moment, running the numbers in his head with Eva's assistance. The timeframe seemed pretty generous, considering what they had to do. "We'll be there, ma'am," he replied.
"Good," Amira said. "Drop time in two minutes. Get your asses moving."
Mark and Dave began double-checking their harnesses, with John slightly behind, watching his two seniors to mimic their actions. Without wasting any time, they grabbed three tactical visors from a nearby box attached to the wall. Then, they headed to the loading bay, where two personnel were waiting for them—one of whom had a familiar face.
"You know, the point of a break is to rest, Barbara," Dave said as they stopped in front of the bay doors.
Barbs shrugged and began typing on a holographic interface that appeared beside the doors. "I napped," she replied. "And since I'll be back on pilot duty soon, what's the point of lazing around?" She glanced at the three of them. "You guys ready?"
"Maybe?" John answered, his tone uncertain.
Barbs looked at him, puzzled. "You alright, Spartan?" she asked. John nodded blankly, which only deepened her confusion until Mark spoke up.
"First timer," he chuckled.
"Eh, as good a time as any to get your fingers wet," Barbs replied with a small smirk.
Dave grimaced as if he smelled something foul. "Really?" he asked. "Out of all the sayings you could have used, you went with that?"
She rolled her eyes. "I keep forgetting that Mark is the only one getting any action out of this trio of brave, macho warriors," she replied, now wearing a full-blown grin.
"Hey!" John protested.
Dave just rolled his eyes.
"Now, now, Barbs," Mark interjected, looking smug. "Aren't you, a macho woman yourself, not getting any either?"
"Oh, fuck you," Barbs shot back.
A loud beep cut off any chance of continuing the conversation, and Barbs went quiet, tilting her head as if listening to someone. After a few seconds, she nodded and turned to the team.
"Gravity anchor's engaged," she said. "Lieutenant Amira advises adjusting the attack angle as needed. Apparently, the building's landing pad is pretty small."
Mark nodded, and he and Dave began putting the visors over their eyes, with John following their lead.
"Ready?" Barbs asked.
"Ready," Mark replied.
"Grav-tether locked in," Amira's voice echoed around them.
"Confirmed! Opening doors!" Barbs' companion shouted, and loud warning beeps filled the air. With a pneumatic hiss, the doors in front of them began to slide open.
A blue, transparent wall shielded them from the roaring elements outside, revealing a turbulent sea of white clouds moving across the surface. Through the shifting mist, Mark could see the miniature city below, including the impact site of the crashed alien ship slightly left of center. The scattered hues of black and gray indicated lingering damage throughout the city.
Once the beeping stopped, Barbs nodded at them. "You're clear!" she exclaimed. "See you guys later?"
Mark smiled and gave her a quick wave. "Later," he replied. Then he turned to his team. "Dave, take my left."
"Gotcha," Dave responded immediately, moving into position. Their last companion, John, looked at Mark hesitantly but was not ignored.
"John, stay on my tail," Mark instructed. "Once we're outside the graviton shield, it'll be a bit rough, but we should be tethered to the gravity point in a few seconds. Stay calm and let me know if you start deviating from my tail. Got it?"
John nodded. "Got it!" he confirmed, moving behind his leader.
"On my mark!" Shepard declared, bending his knees slightly, ready to make a mad dash for the outside. Dave and John followed suit. After a few seconds, their leader shouted again, "Now!" and launched himself forward.
As Mark ran toward the exit, he braced himself for impact with the transparent blue wall. He knew there wouldn't be much resistance from the shield, but once outside, he was hit by bone-chilling, sharp cold winds that seemed to stab at his exposed skin and pull him off course.
However, the grav emitters in his harness immediately engaged. Syncing with his graviton shield, a small, blurry blue bubble appeared around him, shielding him from the worst of the elements. At the same time, it locked onto the gravity point, and Mark found himself stabilizing in the air while slowly moving forward.
Mark's visor activated, displaying holographic lines showing their target vector. His field of view was filled with numbers indicating distance from the target, descent angle, speed, and the strength of gravity pulling him. He quickly reviewed all the details before saying, "Status check!"
A green arrow with the letter 'A' appeared, pointing to his left.
"I'm tethered!" Dave's voice came through the comms.
A green arrow with the letter 'S' also appeared on Mark's screen, pointing almost directly towards his eyes.
"Uh, me too," John's voice followed, sounding slightly shaken.
"Lock into my vectors," Mark instructed. "LT, beginning descent. Accelerating to three hundred feet per second." He glanced at the numbers on his display. "Target at four point two zero klicks. Glide slope, thirty-seven degrees."
"Copy that, Shepard," Amira replied. "Godspeed."
The trio began their descent, starting at freefall speeds before rapidly accelerating until they became blurry streaks in the sky. What felt like minutes passed in seconds, and soon they cleared the sea of moving clouds, fully revealing the miniature cityscape below.
Mark didn't have time to admire the view. "Confirming landing zone," he declared as his vision zoomed in on the building they needed to touchdown on. The building stood surprisingly intact, its geometric lines etched defiantly into the sky. Scorched blotches marred its surface, contrasting sharply with its usually gleaming marble-white exterior, while the windows were either untouched or shattered into jagged messes.
However, the building's condition was secondary to the state of the landing pad on the roof, which was thankfully mostly intact. Amira's aim had been precise, though slightly off-center from the building's middle. Her reminder to adjust their approach proved wise, as the rooftop was much smaller than the building's overall perimeter. Reviewing the data on his visor, Mark realized they were about to overshoot. "Adjust approach angle: climb to forty-two degrees, left to seven degrees. Confirm!"
"Forty-two and seven, confirmed," Dave replied immediately.
"Uh… Done!" John followed up.
"Switching to infrared," Mark said as his vision zoomed in even closer, focusing on the building's rooftop. "I see debris and a slight collapse on the north side. No heat signatures on the roof. Dave?"
"Double-checking," Dave replied. There was a pause before he continued, "Confirm. I'm seeing the same. Rooftop looks clear."
"Accelerating to maximum speed of six fifty feet per second," Mark declared. "Adjusting the graviton shield for acceleration!"
"Shit!" John exclaimed, sounding alarmed.
Mark couldn't blame him. The tugging from their harnesses had become more pronounced, exerting a surprising amount of forward force that could make anyone unaccustomed to the sensation feel helpless. Mark had even seen some Militia members faint from forgetting to breathe, despite the graviton shield protecting them from the most severe effects of the g-forces.
As they sped toward the ground, their surroundings blurred into a vermillion swirl of colors and lines. The only steady elements in their vision were the holographic indicators from their visors.
"Target, one and a half klicks!" Dave called out.
"Brace for sudden deceleration in three, two—" Mark began to count down.
"Fuck!" John shouted as he felt another intense force, this time pulling him back.
The three of them descended to the building's rooftop at a slower pace, coming to a complete stop just inches from the floor.
"Detach," Mark declared.
They made contact with the solid ground. While the two more experienced Militia members landed firmly, John stumbled, falling onto all fours and taking some deep, steadying breaths.
"John?" Dave asked, approaching him.
"Give me a few," John mumbled between breaths.
Dave gave his shoulder a reassuring pat before looking at Mark and giving him a thumbs-up.
Mark nodded and then tilted his head slightly. "This is Shepard. We've arrived at our destination safely."
"Copy that," Amira replied. "Prep the area for extraction. I'll communicate with the Illusive once you've cleared everything."
"Wilco," Mark said. "Making preparations to welcome him." He then turned to his team. "You guys heard that?"
"Yeah," Dave replied, giving John one last pat before standing up. "Securing access point," he added, heading toward the rooftop access.
"Gotcha," Mark replied, going through his vest.
"Ugh," John groaned, shakily standing up and securing his grip on his shotgun. "I'll secure the perimeter."
"Thanks," Mark said absently as he pulled out a metal rectangle with dimensions similar to a rifle magazine—a locator beacon—and pressed a button on one of its corners.
After a few seconds, Amira spoke up over the comms. "Receiving beacon signal. Adjusting gravity point. Is the area clear?"
"Access point clear," Dave responded.
"No hostiles on the roof," John added. Mark smiled, amused as he could hear John's voice both through the comms and just slightly behind him.
"Good job, gentlemen," Amira said. "Stand by. I'll be contacting Illusive."
"Roger that, LT," Mark replied. After a moment, he added, "Dave, I'm going to send my greetings."
"Isn't this a dead zone?" Dave asked.
"Can't hurt," Mark said.
"Gotcha," Dave replied. "Do your thing."
Mark nodded and closed his eyes. "Eva," he called.
"Handshake sent to the Building Administrator," his AI responded. "Militia credentials accepted. Connecting to the automated emergency system."
Mark frowned. "Automated? Is the Admin dead?" he asked.
"Sleeping," Eva answered. "According to the logs, once the crash cut off power and disconnected the building from the DriftNet, the Admin activated the automated emergency protocols to assist in evacuating survivors and then hibernated to preserve power, keeping the system running for as long as possible."
"He's a real one for that," Mark commented. "What else did you find?"
"Newest log entries indicate that Militia credentials were used to gain access to the building," Eva replied. "The code falls under a special category, likely from the Illusive Leader. Minutes later, a BNE alarm was triggered."
"The turians chasing him," Mark guessed. "Did the security system not trigger? Was it damaged?"
"Not so much damaged, but the building is operating in low power," Eva explained. "The backup batteries are at around five percent capacity. Only the emergency lights and door locks are currently powered."
Mark hummed absently. "Okay, so no deploying cameras or other sensors," he muttered. "Elevators and grav-rails are down as well. What are our options?"
"With current credentials, I can override some of the building operations," Eva said. "At most, we can enable or disable systems. However, due to the limited power reserves, any reactivated systems will be temporary and dependent on our usage."
He grunted. "Better than nothing, I suppose," Mark muttered, then sighed. He looked up and waved his hand, calling, "John!"
John approached immediately. "Yeah?" he asked as he neared.
"Got any proximity charges?" Mark asked.
"High payload?" John inquired.
"No," Mark replied. "Just something to buy us time when—" He stopped abruptly as he heard it. It was faint but distinctive. He had been hearing it repeatedly over the past two days, making it quite recognizable.
Even John seemed to realize it, his eyes widening. "Enemy fire," he said, frowning. "Is it coming from inside the building?"
"Yeah," Mark replied, worriedly tilting his head. "Dave?!"
"I'm hearing it!" Dave responded over the comms. "Don't see it!"
Mark was about to contact Amira, but she spoke up first. "Shepard, Illusive got caught. Connecting him to our network."
"—uck!" their extraction target's voice suddenly swore over the comms.
"Illusive Leader," Mark called, "This is Bravo Two, leading the extraction team to get you out."
"I hear you!" came the reply, accompanied by a sharp ping in the comms. "Got unlucky during my climb—hostiles hit me in the leg. I'm limping to the security administrator's office. Location: west wing, thirty-seventh floor. I'll be locking the door, but the tenacious bastards will most likely try to break through."
"Eva," Mark called.
"Locating," Eva responded as a map of the building appeared in Mark's visor. It zoomed into a specific area, pulsing green. "Mapping the fastest route."
"Share with the others," Mark ordered as he raised his rifle. "Safeties off, guys! We're Oscar Mike!"
"At the door, standing by," Dave replied.
John readied his shotgun, looking slightly nervous but prepared. Mark nodded at him, and the two of them proceeded to the roof access and began descending the stairs. Dave stood guard near the building access, weapon aimed at the entrance.
Mark tapped his back gently. His friend nodded in acknowledgment without looking back, which signaled Shepard to move forward, his HUD guiding him and his team to their destination.
The trio moved past the building access and descended the next three flights of stairs quickly, weapons at the ready. They paused at the door leading to the central lobby on the thirty-seventh floor, with Mark and Dave positioning themselves on either side of the entrance. Dave went down to one knee, and John took position behind him.
"Ready?" Mark asked. The other two nodded, prompting him to mentally call, "Eva."
"Opening access," she replied.
As the door slid open, the trio aimed their weapons inside, covering all visible angles.
"Clear," Dave said first.
"Same," Mark replied. "Cover me."
The team found themselves in the central lobby of the floor, where the disabled elevators and grav-rails were located. They proceeded to the western part of the building, following the pathway Eva had mapped out.
The Red Coast Building, with its retro-art deco aesthetic, was still an office building at its core. The internal structure was typical: wide, interconnecting hallways offering almost unrestricted access to various areas. It didn't take long for them to hear activity—footsteps echoing in the hallway and the sharp, guttural tones of turian speech.
"Why are we even here?" came the translated question. "We should be there, ending this as quickly as possible."
Mark paused at the corner, raising his fist to signal his team to stop. Without further prompting, Eva generated a small gravity lens, allowing him to check around the corner. He saw two turian soldiers approaching.
"Leave the tech to do their jobs," the second turian said. "Concentrate on doing ours."
The first turian made a noise of frustration and shook his head. "Patrolling an empty building?"
"Thalor," the second turian said, his tone serious. "We thought this area would be clear of aliens by now, but a team managed to get close to our base and capture a Cabal."
"A lot of good that did them," Thalor replied with a sharp snort. "We've cornered the one with the Cabal here, and the others are getting surrounded at Section Five."
"Exactly why we need to stay vigilant," his companion insisted. "These aliens are oddly interested in the Cabal Auxiliaries. You heard how they go out of their way to collect their corpses? Don't you think they might send more teams to capture a live one?"
Thalor paused, looking thoughtful. "Do you really think there are more of them here, Jarek?" he asked. "We've doubled the guards at the border, so no one should get through unnoticed. And no one is reporting orange or blue lights in the sky."
"We don't know enough about their technology," Jarek replied.
"Then we should just force our way in," Thalor growled. "Wouldn't that be faster?"
"That would complicate the situation," Jarek disagreed. "We don't know how these species will react when cornered. Just keep your eyes and listening holes open."
Their conversation continued, but Mark ignored it. He opened his raised fist and extended two fingers. Dave gently tapped him on the shoulder. When Mark looked at his friend, Dave gestured with a finger to his lips and tilted his head slightly.
Mark nodded and mentally called, "Eva? Give us cover."
"Ready when you are," she replied.
Mark took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few seconds, then nodded sharply. Suddenly, the hallway lights began to flicker before everything went black. Mark's visor hummed to life, and when he opened his eyes, he could still see clearly, though everything was tinged green. He tapped Dave's shoulder, who then tapped John's, and the trio moved slowly and silently, crossing the now-darkened hallway.
"Damn it," Jarek muttered. "Turn on the torches."
The situation changed rapidly. The two turians raised their left arms slightly, which suddenly glowed orange—a tell-tale sign of their computer system activation, something Mark had observed frequently over the past two days. Almost immediately, the tips of their weapons and parts of their armor emitted a blinding light that caught him by surprise. The darkened hallway was illuminated to such a degree that Mark's visor had to cut off night vision, and even then, he had to squint against the harsh luminescence.
"Got it," Thalor said, his head slowly lifting. He then froze, his eyes locked on the intersection where Mark and his team had halted due to the sudden illumination. "Conta—!"
Thalor didn't get to finish as both Mark and Dave aimed their rifles and fired. The pale, almost invisible blue light of their shields pulsed as the human projectiles struck at hypersonic speed. The other turian, realizing the threat, scrambled for cover, but it was too late. The second burst came swiftly, breaking through their defenses. Blue ichor sprayed into the air, and the two turian bodies fell.
There was a moment of eerie silent stillness before everything exploded. Guttural, harsh shouts and loud stomping echoed around them. The trio exchanged grim expressions, sensing that they were being surrounded.
Mark's heart raced as he scanned the area, before fixing his sight on a door just a few meters away. He gestured toward it, and his team dashed to it. The door slid open automatically, allowing them before closing almost immediately behind them, apparently in the nick of time. The sounds of footsteps grew louder, and the shouting became more intelligible.
"Jarek and Thalor are down!" a Turian exclaimed.
"Damn these aliens," another replied. "They couldn't have gone far! Search the area!"
"I see some doors," a third Turian added.
"Try them," the second ordered.
"Shit," Mark whispered as he began to scan the room, only to pause when he heard an alert beep.
"Bravo Two, this is Illusive. Heard some gunfire."
"Dave, John, find us an exit," Mark ordered.
Dave nodded and gestured toward their third member. "Come on," he said.
John looked at him with confusion but followed nonetheless. "They shouldn't have any access, right?" John asked, nervously raising his shotgun.
"That's not the problem," Dave replied, continuing his search. "We don't want to get trapped here."
Mark sighed and tilted his head slightly. "Illusive, this is Bravo Two," he said into the comms. "We were discovered early and had to hide in an office."
"Hah, luck doesn't seem to be with us today," Illusive replied. "Looks like the rescue is a no-go."
"Not yet," Mark said. "We'll find our way to you. Just hold on."
"Standing by then. Illusive out."
Mark sighed, waiting for Amira to give her input. Oddly enough, though, the comm was completely silent from her end. Before he could call for her, asking if she had any advice, Dave spoke up.
"Mark," he said. "Found an exit."
Shepard frowned, before shaking his head. "Eva," he mentally called as he rushed to his team waiting at the opposite end of the office space.
"Ready for instructions," the AI replied.
"I need you to shut down all emergency lights in the building," Mark ordered. "Then reroute the power to the sensors on this floor. How long can you keep them on?"
"Approximately five minutes," the AI replied. "However, if I only power up the sensors in the west wing, I can extend it to fifteen minutes."
"Go for it," Mark responded. "Add the information to our HUD and create a new pathway. Prioritize evading incoming enemies." After a moment of thought, he added, "Also, adjust the NV settings so we won't be blinded by the turians' torches."
"Calculations complete," Eva said. "Sending data to Nova and Huxley."
Mark's thoughts lingered on the last name. He knew Dave's AI but this was his first time hearing the name of John's AI. He pushed the thought aside and finally rejoined his team.
Dave glanced at him. "Nova just told me you're making some major HUD adjustments," he commented. "Got a plan?"
Before Mark could reply, he had a better idea. He tapped his ear multiple times, a gesture both team members understood. Then he tilted his head and said, "Illusive, this is Bravo Two. Be advised: we're about to cut power to the emergency lights and make our way to you. How copy?"
"Crystal. Godspeed, Bravo Two."
Mark nodded and looked at his team. "We're going straight to the admin office," he stated. "Avoid being seen and avoid starting a fight. I'll take the lead. Dave, you're in the middle. John, cover our flanks. Got it?"
Dave and John exchanged glances and nodded.
Mark nodded back and mentally instructed, "Now."
"Rerouting power from emergency lights to the sensors," Eva declared. "Incorporating their data."
To any outside observers, it seemed like the entire building had lost power as everything went dark. The turians reacted strongly, with a cacophony of grating curses dominating the floor.
"Spirits, is this enemy action?!" one shouted.
"Calm down," another responded, loudly but steadily. "Turn on your lights and stay alert!"
For Mark and his team, the situation was quite different.
"Whoa," John muttered softly, his tone calm and almost admiring.
Their night vision reactivated, now incorporating data from the newly redeployed sensors. Red silhouettes appeared around them, vaguely humanoid in shape, mostly concentrated in the direction from which they had entered. Fortunately, there were no red figures outside the door they were about to use as their exit, but Mark knew that could change quickly.
"Pathway created," Eva announced.
"Thanks," Mark replied before turning to his team. "Go, go, go."
The door slid open silently, and the trio moved swiftly into the darkened hallway. Thanks to the building's sensors, Eva had mapped out a path that allowed them to avoid the hunting turians. Although they had to take a more roundabout route, they managed to evade most of the red silhouettes patrolling the corridors. For those they couldn't avoid, they used their access to office spaces to bypass the routes. This strategy allowed them to keep moving and stay ahead of their enemies.
A feeling of relief washed over Mark's team as they drew closer to the admin office. There was a thrilling sense of accomplishment in outsmarting their opponents during the deadly chase. However, as they neared their destination, that elation quickly faded when they encountered a wall of red silhouettes.
The trio halted at a corner near the intersection leading to the admin office. Mark observed the silhouettes, noting that this group remained stationary, seemingly indifferent to the chaos unfolding nearby. Their positions suggested they were likely the guards for the techs trying to bypass the lock on the admin office.
Mark tapped the right outmost edge of his visor, turning off the NV mode on that side. Eva immediately activated a gravity lens, allowing him to peek around the corner. He frowned as he saw that the hallway was illuminated by turian torches, revealing guards on high alert with their rifles aimed down the corridor, ready for action.
Mark frowned and tapped his visor again, mentally requesting, "Map."
A window popped up on the left side of his vision, displaying an overhead view of the area. The admin office was situated in the right corner of their current location. The sensors indicated eleven presences—three red dots at the door and four in each hallway, covering both approaches to their position. Mark closed his eyes to formulate a plan, then looked at his team.
"Need a distraction in this hallway," Mark said, pointing to the corner behind him. "Something loud. Draw their attention this way so I can sneak into their flanks from the other side."
John frowned. "Won't that bring the ones we just avoided back to us?" he asked.
"We'd better be quick then," Mark replied. Before he could move into position, Dave gently grabbed his shoulder.
"Nothing fancy," Dave warned. "These aren't humans, remember?"
"I know," Mark replied calmly as his friend released him. "I'll stick to straight shots with my plasma." He added, more to himself than anyone, "If I end up in a scuffle, I'll just hope to God that leverage still applies."
A slight movement behind them caught their attention. Turning around, they saw John removing the magazine from his shotgun and replacing it with another from his vest. Once he secured it in place, he noticed his teammates watching him and said, "Dragon's Breath."
"Oh," Mark commented, sounding impressed.
"Well, someone got inspired," Dave added with a smile.
John grinned back. "True," he admitted. "Not quite plasma, but close enough. And with a little bit of…" He trailed off as he fidgeted with his vest, making his grenades more accessible. "…and we're golden."
"Let me get into position first," Mark said, "and I'll go on your signal." Without another word, he silently moved away from the corner, heading to the one behind them. He glanced back at his team, giving them a thumbs-up before turning left at the corner. Once he was halfway to the next one, he tilted his head and whispered, "In position."
By the time Mark reached his destination, a roar of multiple explosions filled the air. The red silhouettes on his HUD moved erratically, almost in panic.
"Enemy contact!" one shouted. "Recall the patrol team!"
The air was filled with the deafening crack of hypersonic rifle rounds, followed by the deep, resonant thumps of a shotgun.
"Two contacts!" another turian declared. Then, after a booming blast, he screamed, "Fire! I'm on fire!"
"Vetius, get Tervius back here!" ordered the first turian. "I'll cover you!"
"Shit!" another turian, this one much closer to Mark's position, yelled. "Vellus, Lutis, assist Auguus' team! Amnus, with me! Let's flank these barefaced aliens!"
Mark let his rifle hang at his front and grabbed his blaster. "NV off," he mentally commanded. The green tinge of his vision vanished, leaving him in darkness, though he could still see the red silhouettes of his enemies on his HUD. The two closest figures were rushing toward his corner, their arrival marked by a light growing brighter with each passing moment. Their footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, each step heavier and louder, pounding like a relentless drumbeat.
Despite the chaos, Mark remained calm. He took a breath, counting silently for a second or two before rounding the corner. His blaster aimed at the larger of the two red silhouettes, and he squeezed the trigger twice, moving forward without hesitation. The target fell, his scream abruptly cut off, while his companion, initially startled, recovered quickly and retaliated. The alien rifle fired, its shots sounding faint amid the surrounding din. The supersonic rounds flew true, but a faint blue light flared around Mark as his graviton shield deflected the projectiles.
He aimed at the second target, squeezed the trigger twice, and the turian went down like his fallen comrade.
Three more turians were further down the hall, huddled in front of a locked door—the techs, most likely, who had been trying to bypass the lock. Now, they seemed ready to repel his team, their rifles raised and ready.
Two of them were focused on the commotion Dave and John were raising on the other side. The third, however, had spotted the deaths of their comrades. They raised their weapon, but Mark already had his hoisted. Two more bolts of plasma shot down the hallway, striking the turian. His scream caught the attention of the other two, who upon seeing their comrade's death, quickly dove out of sight.
"Ambush in the rear!" a turian shouted. "One contact!"
Mark noticed a shift in the red silhouettes on his HUD from the other hall. Three stayed in place, keeping Dave and John occupied, while the remaining four moved toward his position. Smart, he thought. He, too, would have tried to overwhelm the side with fewer enemies under normal circumstances. But these aliens didn't know he could see their movements.
He crouched down on one knee, tightened his grip on his rifle, and set it to full-auto. He watched the four red figures approach, waiting. Just as the first two were about to round the corner, he steadied himself, and squeezed the trigger.
The roar of hypersonic shots from the rifle firing in full-auto echoed all around him—a truly terrifying sound. Feeling it was even worse. Mark's shoulder felt like someone was pounding it with a mallet, trying their hardest to dislocate it. The enemy likely felt less pain; they dropped to the ground as if their strings had been cut. Their partner, just a step behind, was saved from certain death by mere inches. They hesitated, giving the two remaining turians behind them a moment's pause. To keep it that way, Mark squeezed off a few more rounds, his bullets impacting the floors and walls with bright sparks and loud pings. The silhouettes retreated slightly, huddling together, likely to regroup. Unfortunately for them, the humans weren't in the mood to let them.
"Mark!" Dave called through the comms. "Repulsers!"
Mark blinked, then rolled to the side of the hallway, pressing himself against the wall. A second later, a loud, deep, bassy thump reverberated through the corridor. A strong gravitational force pushed him back slightly even from his stable position.
The four hiding turians didn't stand a chance. They were blown from their cover, slamming into the far wall, fully exposed in front of Mark's rifle, which roared to life as he emptied his clip into the stunned, huddled mass. The recoil still hammered Mark's shoulder, but considering how quickly it dispatched the enemy without retaliation, he was more than willing to endure it.
"Clear!" John called.
"Clear," Dave echoed.
Mark unclipped his magazine, his eyes fixed on the pile of unmoving alien bodies, the walls around them streaked with thick blue ichor. After reloading his rifle, he stood up and cautiously approached the bodies, watching for any signs of movement. Once satisfied, he shouted, "Clear! Get to the office, now!"
The trio met up in front of the door, with John and Dave looking worried—and Mark understood why. While no more shots were being fired, the sound of movement and alien shouts grew louder and closer. Those they had dodged were now converging on their position in full force.
They had to move quickly.
Mark pounded on the door and shouted, "Illusive, this is Bravo Two! We're about to enter! Hold fire!"
Eva didn't need prompting. She immediately unlocked the door, and the whole team rushed inside. Mark and Dave, rifles drawn, entered first while John, aiming his shotgun down each hallway, slipped in last just as the sliding metal barricade silently hissed shut.
Mark spotted Illusive Leader leaning against the left wall, in the farthest corner from the entrance, giving him the clearest view of anyone entering. His rifle was aimed at them, prompting Mark to raise his hand in a gesture of greeting and surrender.
"Illusive Leader?" he called, lowering his own weapon. "Mark Shepard, Bravo Two." He nodded toward his teammates. "Bravo Three and Four."
"Dave," Anderson introduced.
"Uh, John," Spartan added.
"Jack," Illusive Leader replied, lowering his weapon as well. "Captain of the Illusive Team."
Mark nodded, taking a moment to study Jack. The man wore an impressive-looking hardsuit, more sophisticated than what most MI riflemen typically wore. It was colored in shades of black and white with gold accents. Mark couldn't make out Jack's facial features due to the tinted faceplate of his helmet, but he noticed he was carrying a body bag on his back and seemed to be standing in a way that relieved pressure from his right leg.
"John, Dave, can you find us an exit?" Mark asked, turning to his teammates.
John looked a bit confused, but Dave didn't hesitate. "Gotcha," he replied.
As the two moved deeper into the office, Mark glanced at the door, faintly hearing the angry shouts of the turians who had finally caught up to them. Their leader was calling for them to check on their fallen comrades and the office door.
Mark turned his attention back to Jack. The mercenary captain seemed unfazed by the alien screeching, his gaze fixed on the young Militia soldier in front of him. The faceplate of his helmet partially reflected Mark's own face.
"I'm guessing we're not doing the exfil from the roof anymore?" Jack asked.
"We lost that option when they discovered us," Mark replied, stepping closer.
"It probably wasn't an option once I got shot," Jack admitted. "I filled my knee with medigel, but judging by the limp, it's completely shattered."
Mark knelt to examine the injured leg, noting the broken plates around the wound. "Did you charge straight into the alien group or something?" he joked. "Their weapons aren't that strong, but that would be pretty reckless."
"Might as well have," Jack chuckled. "I'm infinitely glad they don't use hypersonic rounds. Otherwise, I'd have lost the leg. Last time I waltz around unprotected, I guess."
Mark stood back up. "Unprotected?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Did your shield module fail?"
"Didn't have enough power," Jack replied, gesturing to the body bag on his back. "Had to use it to lighten the load and keep the Stasis Module running, keeping this one subdued."
Mark frowned. "Stasis Module? Why not—" He stopped, then nodded in understanding. "Couldn't use tranquilizers because it's not human."
"Exactly," Jack said. "We didn't want to accidentally kill it. Tough son of a bitch. Took a lot of g-force to keep it down long enough to slap the module on it."
Before Mark could respond, he noticed a small dot of light reflecting off Jack's faceplate. Almost simultaneously, a hissing whisper filled the air, followed by a subtle warble. Mark turned slightly toward the door and saw plasma fire attempting to penetrate the metal barrier.
"Looks like you pissed them off enough to try brute-forcing their way in," Jack remarked.
"So it seems," Mark replied absently. "Dave, John!" he shouted, turning to his team. He saw John already placing charges on the wall, while Dave was rummaging through his backpack, unfolding a netting. "How long?"
"Two minutes!" John shouted back.
Mark moved to Jack's side, and the mercenary slung an arm over his shoulder as they carefully made their way toward the rest of the team. Halfway there, Dave, having finished his task, ran up to them and took Jack's other side, quickening their pace.
Once near the wall, Dave said, "Hold on." He grabbed the netting he'd been unfurling earlier, and with Mark's help, they began to wrap it tightly around Jack.
The hissing sounds grew louder, and the groaning of bending metal reverberated through the office walls.
Mark glanced at his friend. "Dave?"
"Do your thing," Dave replied, taking over the netting from Mark's hands to finish securing it around Jack.
Mark nodded, then tilted his head slightly as he spoke into his comms. "LT, this is Shepard. Change of extraction location." He then frowned. Like earlier, he was met by silence from her end, making a pit form in his stomach. With a bit more emotion, he repeated, "LT?"
"Mark, Miss Amira's on a call," a familiar voice responded.
"Barbs?" Mark asked, his eyes widening slightly. "Back on duty?"
"Yeah," she replied, her grin almost audible in her tone. "Lucky you, eh?"
Mark seemed to consider saying something, but shook his head instead. "Barbs, we need a grav hook extraction," he finally said. "We're making an impromptu exit from the northwest corner of the Red Coast building. Activating beacon signal now." He reached to his vest, pressing the button to deploy his locator.
"Getting your coordinates," Barbs replied. A brief pause followed, and then she hummed thoughtfully. "Okay, this might be a problem."
"Uh, problem?" Mark repeated.
"The whole street below curves at both ends," she explained. "I'm choosing the best route... Done. Now I just have to calculate the speed correctly, or you could all end up splattered on a building."
"I'll owe you one," Mark said. "See you later, yeah?"
"Yup," Barbs answered with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Just tell me when you're out! Later!"
"Going for a dynamic hook, huh," Dave commented as he tugged the netting tight. "At least it's Barbara doing the piloting."
"Thank God for small miracles, yeah," Mark agreed.
"Is she a friend of yours?" Jack asked while adjusting his rigging. "I assume your trust in her in this situation is due mostly to her piloting skills and not just personal connections?"
"Yes," Dave replied. "She is very skilled."
"Besides," Mark added with a chuckle, "it's not like we'll be able to complain if we're wrong, right?"
"Good point," Jack said, giving a small shrug.
The harsh warble of bending metal suddenly grew louder. A quick glance told Mark that their uninvited guests had made a hole in the door big enough for the turian torches to shine through like small searchlight glowing in the green-tinted darkness of his vision. Shadows moved through that tunnel of light, indicating movement, while a turian shouted in a clear, unmuffled tone, "Find a grip! Force the door open!"
Mark turned to his explosives expert and asked, "John?"
"Almost there," John replied, studying the position of the charges on the wall before nodding sharply. "Done! Activating!"
A thump and a hum indicated that the gravity charges had been deployed. Then, a huge, square portion of the wall—large enough to fit all of them—crumbled in front of them, letting the afternoon light of Jessamine flood into the office. Their night vision was instantly deactivated, though they were not the only ones to notice the sudden entry of sunlight.
"I see solarlight!" a turian shouted.
"They're making an escape!" the initial turian responded urgently. "Hurry!"
The sound of metal grating grew louder, accompanied by the turian's bellowing commands. Mark paid it no mind and focused on his team. "Huddle up!" he ordered. "Jack, you're in the middle!"
Without a word, his team gathered closely, trapping the mercenary in the center. Mark then tilted his head. "Barbs!" he called through the comms. "We're making our jump in five seconds!"
"Ready and waiting!" she replied.
The ugly sound of the door being forced open came, slowly but steadily, along with the desperate shouts, ordering them to stop. To Mark, these noises felt like they were far away, overshadowed by the steady rhythm of his own breathing. He counted silently to five before shouting, "Go!"
The three of them yelled as they pushed themselves into the newly made hole. As they jumped, time seemed to slow down. For a moment, gravity appeared to vanish, and an eerie calmness surrounded them. But the next second, gravity returned, as if it had realized the group had escaped its grasp, and began to pull them down hard. Mark felt his insides sink as he wondered why he hadn't felt the pull from his grav-emitters yet, but by the third second, he finally experienced the reassuring tug.
"Gotcha!" Barbs declared over the comms.
Mark grunted as a strong upward force grabbed him, though not painfully. His graviton shield quickly adjusted, dispersing the energy to reduce the strain on his body. He glanced down and noted that the ground was uncomfortably close but was not overly worried, as they were already climbing. He was more concerned about the approaching corner, where a few buildings obstructed their flight path. However, they cleared that too, climbing higher and higher.
The scene around them blurred as they were dragged through the air at supersonic speeds. The urban landscape below transformed into a mishmash of colors and lines, shrinking by the second until only the semi-transparent white sea of the sky remained.
Then, they seemed to stop. The tug lightened until only a gentle force kept them in the air. For a few seconds, the group spun and swung, as if the adrenaline hadn't worn off. Gradually, up in the blue sky, the four finally came to a calm rest, floating almost lazily among the heavens.
"Hey, Mark," Barbs called through the comms. "You guys alive?"
"Yeah, thanks to you," he replied with a slight wheeze. "Good flying as always."
"You're welcome," she said with a soft laugh. "We'll pull you up soon. Hang tight."
Once they stopped bobbing, Dave muttered, "Fuck." He then seemed to deflate as the team slowly disentangled themselves from their huddle.
"You can say that again," John replied, his voice tinged with hysteria as he absently chuckled and collapsed onto himself.
"Good job, team," Mark commended.
"'Good job' is an understatement," Jack added. "Are any of you interested in joining Cerberus? We can guarantee the best payment of any PMC."
"I'm joining the MI," Mark replied.
"So are we," Dave said.
"We all met during recruitment," John said weakly. "Got my acceptance a week ago. We were supposed to have started training, but…"
Jack nodded. "The invasion," he finished. "I'll give you my contact information. If military life isn't for you, give me a call."
Mark chuckled and then felt a strong upward pull. He looked up and spotted the mediship, which was just a small dot at first. As seconds passed, it grew larger and larger until they were finally in front of the loading bay.
Getting back in was mundane compared to what they had gone through, to the point that it felt almost like a blur. All Mark could note was that Jack had immediately requested the use of a stasis pod to stash his package, and the medics on board quickly whisked him away as Mark and his team began to return their borrowed gear.
As they moved deeper into the mediship, they spotted the mercenary captain, helmet removed, sitting on the raised gurney bed while medics attended to him. One of the medics wore an ugly frown, most likely because Jack was smoking a lit cigarette. However, the mercenary paid them no mind, focusing instead on his conversation with Amira.
Mark observed how 'clean' Jack looked. He seemed more fitting in a tuxedo than in a hardsuit. Looking around, he also saw the package the captain had carried, now unwrapped and inside an enclosed metallic pod. The interior was lit in a deep blue color, and the turian inside looked eerily still.
Returning his attention to Amira and Jack, Mark noted that the conversation didn't seem to be going in Jack's favor, judging by his frown. He gave Amira a reluctant nod before she turned toward them. The trio stood a little straighter as the Lieutenant approached, only relaxing slightly when she gave them a small smile as she stood in front of them.
"Good work," she said. "My apologies for staying silent, especially in the middle of the operation, but things moved faster than I expected."
"What do you mean?" Mark asked, confused.
"Governor Calhoun announced a martial edict," she replied, causing the trio to stare at her. "South Charleston is going fully on the offensive. My silence was due to SC Central Command acquiring my status and compiling every report I could provide about these turians. As of now, I have been reassigned."
"Team Bravo is disbanding, then?" Dave asked.
"No," she said. "I've only been relieved of Militia Command—" she then looked at Mark "—making Shepard the de facto leader of Bravo."
Mark blinked, while John and Dave patted him on the back.
"I knew you had it in you," Dave commented with a genuine smile, though his tone was tinged with sarcasm. "What are your orders now, Tyrant?"
"Maybe tell his Militia team members with insufficient credentials to sneak into an enemy base alone and take down a Titan?" John added, mirroring the tone and smile.
Mark turned to both of them, raising his free hand to give them a rude gesture. "Fuck off," he replied with a chuckle. He then turned back to Amira, frowning when he saw her giving them a significant look. "Ma'am?"
"Remember that you are Militia," she said, her tone so serious that it made them stand a little straighter. "You are volunteers and can refuse any requests made of you." She then smiled. "However, considering what you three have been through, I shouldn't be too worried. All I ask is that you come back alive. There's a bright future in MI for you."
Without further ado, she assumed a perfect parade stance and saluted them. She didn't give them time to react or reply before walking past them, leaving the trio to watch her retreating form.
Once she disappeared through the exit, Dave looked at Mark and asked, "What was that about?"
Mark frowned and turned to Jack, who was observing them meaningfully. "I think I might have an idea," he replied.
"Really?" John asked.
Before Mark could elaborate, the mercenary captain called out loudly, "Shepard, a word, please?"
The three of them glanced at the mercenary and then at each other. Dave smirked at Mark and gestured lazily toward Jack. John, catching on, gave the newly promoted Bravo leader a thumbs-up. Mark rolled his eyes before heading toward the mercenary captain, who was still being attended to by the medics.
"—are your options," Mark heard the lead medic say as he approached. "However, I highly recommend having the operation done at an actual hospital. The surgery pods on this mediship aren't designed for complete reconstruction and recovery. If done here, you'll still need to support the knee with medigel, which could affect mobility."
"I know," Jack replied. "I'll give you my answer soon, doctor. Thank you."
The medic sighed, nodded, and then turned to his companions before leaving.
Once Mark was in front of him, Jack sighed and took a puff of his cigarette. He exhaled slowly, the smoke coming out heavily but dispersing quickly as it flowed up to the ceiling vent.
"Cigarettes, huh?" Mark commented with an easy smile. "Expensive habit."
"Some say a useless one, too," Jack replied readily.
Mark shrugged. "People are free to indulge in whatever makes them happy," he said. "It's easier for our companions to mimic such neurological effects, but your life, your business."
Jack nodded. "I'd rather have Cora run scenarios and numbers on my head than to make me feel better," he said. "I honestly need this, especially given the situation."
Mark crossed his arms and replied, "I'm all ears."
The mercenary captain frowned and took another puff from his cigarette. "I had a team with me when we went deep into enemy territory," he began. "My fellow Cerberus companions, as well as some additions from the Militia that we were interested in recruiting."
The younger man nodded. "You got caught," he said.
Jack hummed in agreement. "We were aware of much of the turian psychology, and my lieutenant, Eva, created a plan around it," he said.
Mark blinked at the name but otherwise did not react.
"However," Jack continued, "we underestimated their response. Ben, my sergeant, forced me to separate from the group, saying that the package was too important. He led the rest of the team in a combat retreat, hoping to draw a majority of our pursuers away." He smiled deprecatingly. "As you know, that didn't help much; they split their forces evenly."
"They must have been embarrassed," Mark commented. "Dozens of them, yet three people made them fail their mission."
Jack chuckled appreciatively. "I'm sure they won't forget that anytime soon," he said with a small smile that quickly turned into a frown. "I requested Lieutenant Amira to extract the rest of my team, but…" He trailed off, looking at Mark meaningfully.
The young Militia member understood. "With her being reassigned, you'll have to settle with me," he finished.
"Yes," Jack admitted.
"You do realize that she would have deployed us for this anyway, right?" Mark pointed out.
"I have no issues with your participation, Shepard," the mercenary replied. "I think you three are very capable, especially given your age. But there's a difference between leading an extraction operation of a single target in an enclosed environment and extracting a group under fire with unknown conditions. I just don't want to bet the lives of my team on someone I've just met."
The younger man nodded in agreement.
"However, I'm short on options," Jack acknowledged. "While I can request additional reinforcements from other Cerberus teams, we are currently deployed at full capacity. I'm assuming the Militia is also quite busy. Even if they can grant my request, it will take time."
"Time your team might not have," Mark finished. When Jack nodded, the young Militia member sighed. "I'll ask my team. We'll need as many details as possible to pull this off. Even then, I can't promise anything."
"Thanks, Shepard," the mercenary captain replied, offering his hand. "If we succeed, I'll compensate everyone generously."
Mark shook his hand. "I'll hold you to that," he said.