A few hours after the SSV Rome had left the Citadel, Ellen sat alone at a table in the mess hall, listlessly pushing her breakfast around with a fork. Most of her unit were still sleeping off hangovers or skipping breakfast altogether. The previous night at Flux had apparently gotten out of hand after Norah and Ellen had left. Ellen herself hadn't gotten much sleep. After she and Norah had returned to the Rome and shared a kiss, she had been far too restless to find peace. In the dim light of their quarters, they'd exchanged shy, lingering glances until the first of their squadmates had started returning.
"Want some company?" Alex's voice startled Ellen out of her thoughts. She hadn't even noticed her friend walk in. Alex stood there with a tired grin, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
Ellen merely shrugged in response, but that was enough for Alex, who slid into the seat opposite her, propped her elbows on the table, and rested her chin on her hands.
"Well," Alex began with mock innocence, "how did your evening go? You two didn't come back to the club. Did you… talk?" The deliberate casualness in her tone was betrayed by her overly attentive gaze.
Ellen opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, the blaring of the ship's sirens cut through the mess hall. She stiffened. The emergency klaxon meant one thing: there was trouble, and they needed to gear up immediately.
Shoving her barely touched breakfast aside, Ellen jumped to her feet. Alex followed suit, and the two joined Jenkins, Brown, and a handful of other Marines rushing toward the elevators. Once they reached the lower decks, they found most of the Rome's two units already gathered, suiting up in the armory.
"Anyone know what's going on?" someone shouted as Ellen grabbed her gear.
"You'll get briefed in the shuttles!" Van Hagen's voice boomed from the weapons rack. "Move it, people! Time's ticking!"
Ellen slipped into her bulletproof suit as quickly as she could, strapping on her boots and attaching her armor pieces with practiced efficiency. This time, the quartermaster handed her twice the usual amount of magazines.
"Must be bad if they're giving us this much," Ida muttered grimly, her voice low as she adjusted her own gear.
"Yeah," Ellen replied. "Let's hope we don't need all of it."
Loaded down with extra munitions, Ellen joined the others sprinting toward the shuttles in the hangar. Commander Lance stood waiting, barking assignments as they approached.
"Alpha and Beta, Shuttle 1! Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Shuttle 2! Van Hagen, your team takes Shuttle 3! Washington, you're with Alpha and Beta. Dexter and August, you're with the other teams. We launch in two minutes!"
Ellen vaulted into her assigned shuttle and strapped in alongside Norah and the rest of Beta Team. Lieutenant Washington was the last to board, slamming the door shut behind her.
"All right, Cob, take us out!" Washington ordered the pilot.
"Got it," Cob replied, lifting the shuttle off the deck. The hangar doors opened, and they shot out of the Rome's belly, accelerating quickly.
"Listen up, Privates and Corporal," Washington addressed them, gripping a ceiling handle to steady herself as the shuttle climbed. "We're about to hit a situation we don't fully understand. As you may know, the Alliance operates several prison stations for high-risk offenders. One of them, the Alcatraz Station, has been boarded by mercenaries. We don't know their objective, and frankly, it doesn't matter. The SSV Lima and two other ships are en route, but we'll arrive first. Our mission is to secure the hangar so they can assist us in retaking the bridge—"
An explosion rocked the shuttle, sending Washington stumbling.
"Damn it, Cob! What the hell was that?" she shouted.
"One of the ships got a bead on us," Cob called back, his tone tense. "Shields are holding for now. Hang tight!"
The shuttle veered sharply to the right, spinning ninety degrees. Ellen gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the nausea clawing at her stomach. Shouts filled the cabin as another shot whizzed past them on the monitor feed. Cob's evasive maneuvers kept them alive, but a second hit shook the shuttle violently.
"How much more can this thing take?" Washington demanded, a trace of panic creeping into her voice.
"Almost there!" Cob dodged another volley, his knuckles white on the controls. "Brace for a rough landing!"
Through the viewports, Ellen could see the looming silhouette of the Alcatraz station, its hangar doors a gaping maw. Just as they were about to enter, a final explosion ripped through the shuttle's right engine.
"Right engine's out!" Cob yelled.
"Hold it together!" Washington barked.
The shuttle spiraled awkwardly but managed to skid through the hangar's threshold, slamming hard into the deck. Sparks flew as metal screeched against metal, and the shuttle slid several meters before coming to an abrupt stop.
"Everyone intact?" Washington called, scanning her team. A few muttered affirmations as two Marines scrambled to their feet after their harnesses had snapped during the crash.
Suddenly, bullets pinged off the shuttle's exterior. Washington drew her pistol and slapped the door control.
"Alpha and Beta, move out!" she commanded.
Ellen unstrapped and leapt out after Norah, her rifle at the ready. They took cover behind the shuttle as gunfire peppered their position. Other shuttles landed nearby, similarly battered but intact.
Van Hagen's voice came over the comms. "Enemy count: 26 hostiles."
The other shuttles disgorged their Marines, and Van Hagen divided the teams. "Dexter, August, you flank them. Washington, hold the center. Advance on my mark!"
Ellen relayed orders to her squad. As they moved up, Washington called out, "Five hostiles dead ahead! Webber, take three on the right with your team. Eli, follow me to the freight crates!"
Ellen nodded, directing Alex, Casey, and Jenkins toward their targets. She popped out of cover and saw a Turian and two humans in olive jumpsuits firing back at them. Their aim was sloppy; Ellen's team made short work of them and pushed forward.
The rest of the hangar erupted into chaos. Sporadic fire, shouts, and screams echoed as the Marines engaged the mercenaries. Ellen caught sight of a figure aiming a rocket launcher at Van Hagen's team. She screamed a warning and opened fire, but the rocket launched before she could stop it.
The explosion flung Van Hagen and his team to the ground. Two of them didn't get back up.
Ellen froze, her mind reeling from the carnage, until Alex grabbed her helmet and forced her to focus.
"Ellen, get it together!" Alex shouted. "You did what you could. Now finish the fight!"
Snapping out of her daze, Ellen nodded and took aim once more. Together, they provided cover fire as August's team secured the remaining entrances.
"Hangar secured!" Washington announced over the comms.
As the Marines regrouped, Ellen watched Lauren administer first aid to the injured. She leaned against a crate, guilt gnawing at her.
"Thanks," she muttered to Alex, who had sidled up next to her.
"Anytime," Alex replied. "But don't let it happen again."
"I won't."
Van Hagen's voice cut through the comms. "Clear the hangar! The Lima will be here any moment. First part's done, Marines. Good work."