The Hunter
"Are you certain?" he asked, peering into the distance through the scope of his rifle.
"Yes…" Javik answered, coldly.
Garrus squinted as he delicately turned one of the dials on his scope, adjusting it just enough to allow him to make out the silhouette of his target through the pouring rain.
It had been many long hours since their fateful hunt began. To the amazement of both Garrus and Wrex, their pace moving through the ruins of London had been exceptionally quick. Javik appeared to have little trouble at all picking up whatever faint traces their mysterious quarry had left behind. Every few blocks, the prothean would stop to reach out and read his surroundings, and after a brief moment of meditation, he would wordlessly signal to his companions to follow before continuing along another street or dark alleyway.
With the progress they were making, Garrus was starting to feel hopeful, even a little excited, that they may actually find their killers before they were forced to call in to Hackett.
That is, until the sky above them opened up, and nearly brought their hunt to a grinding halt.
The rain proved to be relentless. No matter how much time passed, there was seemingly no end in sight to the unforgiving downpour.
Garrus normally wouldn't mind the rain. He sometimes found the scent of wet pavement and earth somewhat comforting after spending so much time aboard a dry, sterile starship, but he could tell that Javik strongly felt otherwise.
Not long after the rain began, Javik grew more and more agitated. He was scowling much more frequently than usual, and whenever he stopped to read his surroundings, he was much more selective about where he was placing his hand, looking for any dry space the rain couldn't touch.
While Garrus was never truly able to wrap his head around how the protheans strange ability to read people or the environment worked, he did know that water was what Javik would use to cleanse himself of unwanted imprints, and he suspected that the rain was doing something similar to the city streets right now.
But the hunt pressed on in spite of the weather, with Javik still wordlessly leading on while pushing through the wind and rain. But after passing several suspiciously familiar buildings and alleyways, Garrus couldn't shake the feeling that they were moving in circles. He contemplated calling Grunt to come pick them up so they could rest and come up with a new plan, but seemingly out of nowhere, Javik motioned them to hurry and ran inside the remains of a large apartment building, only stopping his sprint at a broken window to look out across a large and ruined city square.
Garrus and Wrex were confused at first as to why Javik had stopped, but then they saw it. Lying on its face and resting heavily atop the crumbling remains of a score of crushed buildings, was a reaper. Even in the vast darkness and the pouring rain, the silhouette of the gigantic sovereign class reaper was unmistakable. The reaper laid completely still. Like a colossal insect, its enormous black legs twisted high into the air, reaching out into the sky as if looking for something to grasp onto in its death throes.
Garrus instinctively froze when his eyes first found it looming in the darkness. During their trek through the city, they had come across plenty of dead bodies. The remains of reaper monstrosities and various human or allied soldiers were still scattered all throughout the human city, and would be for some time. Garrus had gotten numb to the sight of corpses, a fact that tended to bother him when he dwelt upon it, but there was something about spotting a full sized reaper that still gave him pause. Even in death the sheer size and power of the hulking machines was like something only the most terrible of nightmares could conjure, and compared to them, Garrus felt like a pitiful creature hiding from a much more evolved predator.
While the sight of the dead reaper had been the most immediate, and noticeable, aspect of the plaza, Garrus and Wrex were quick to see that it wasn't what Javik was looking at.
Across the ruined plaza was a peculiar vehicle that stood out amongst the various debris and rubble. A single truck parked beside a ruined building that was somehow still standing despite the reaper resting above it. A truck matching the description of the one that had gone missing.
"I don't get it," grumbled Wrex, eyeing the truck suspiciously while crouching alongside Garrus. "How the hell did we find the truck? I thought we were following that bloody footprint?" He cast a sideways glance at the prothean, whose four eyes were now busy studying the surrounding plaza rather than the truck.
"I was," hissed Javik, "It led me here."
Wrex craned his head to look back up at the dead reaper. "Even the scavengers tend to avoid the big ones… What do you think, Garrus?"
Garrus didn't immediately respond. The turian took a deep breath through his nostrils, steadying himself as he carefully studied the truck through the scope of his rifle. He caught no movement coming from within or around the vehicle, but he still felt uneasy.
"Well they couldn't have moved the warheads on foot. They're too heavy for that," replied Garrus after some careful thought. "They must have split up. One group took the truck, and the other cut through the streets. We must've been following the other group."
Wrex grumbled in agreement. "But why here?"
"Good question," said Garrus. Through his vantage point in the window, he quietly scanned the surrounding buildings that wrapped around the plaza, searching for any sign of movement or anything that might indicate that they were inhabited. But over and over again his gaze would be drawn back to the reaper and the buildings it was towering over. Eventually, his keen eyes caught something curious in the dark. Not far away from the truck and along the wall it was up against, he spotted a sizable hole. Nothing big enough for a vehicle or even a large elcor, but he figured it was just large enough for a human or two to get through.
"Maybe they are hiding the warheads in there," he said, thinking aloud.
Both Javik and Wrex gave Garrus a curious look.
"You said it yourself," continued Garrus, feeling his companions' eyes upon him. "Even scavengers stay away from the big ones. And Hackett put out a general order commanding all civilians and alliance personnel to avoid them until further notice. So… who's going to go poking around one anytime soon?"
Javik wordlessly nodded his agreement.
Wrex pondered the idea for a moment before grumbling, "Certainly sounds like something Cerberus would think of. And if that's true… What are the odds they left them unguarded?"
Garrus' mandibles twitched. "Not high," he muttered, darkly, noting the many shattered windows of the surrounding buildings. Even in their ruined state, Garrus could see dozens of potential sniper nests.
"Perfect place for an ambush," said Javik, his four bright eyes looking out into the dark plaza.
The three of them sat silently for a while, each one peering through the rain and into the dark of the plaza. Even with the vision enhancements in his scope and visor, the rain and wind made it difficult for Garrus to detect any movement, or even any indication that the plaza was being monitored in any way.
If somebody is watching… he thought silently to himself. Maybe they are having just as much trouble seeing through this rain as we are?
The thought reverberated in his head as he stared down his scope at the hole in the wall. His tired mind worked hard to consider what their next steps should be. He knew that time was quickly running out for his deadline to contact Hackett, and that the more time they wasted hiding in that damp building, was more time for Cerberus to enact whatever they were planning with the warheads.
Exhaling quietly through his nostrils, Garrus resigned himself to the best option he could think of.
"Stay here," he said, picking himself up from his perch by the window. "I'm gonna go check it out."
"You sure that's a good idea?" asked Wrex, eyeing Garrus suspiciously as he watched the turian fiddle with the settings on his rifle. "The protheans got a point. It's the perfect spot for an ambush."
"It's a long way to the other side," added Javik, also giving Garrus a disapproving look while voicing his displeasure with the idea. "We won't be able to cover you if you're spotted."
"Well we're not going to find out anything just sitting here," sighed Garrus. "And If we wait too long then we may just lose them entirely. Besides, it's nearly impossible to make out anything in this storm. If we're lucky, one of us should be able to make it to the other side undetected."
Wrex grumbled loudly, clearly agitated at the idea of having to sit back and wait, but he didn't push the point. "Fine. But keep your radio on. If you get shot at over there, you better yell. Don't want you having all the fun."
Garrus chuckled softly as he made his way to an opening toward the plaza. "Don't worry. I'll try to leave at least a few of them for you," he joked.
Javik too rose up from his perch and followed him toward the opening, only stopping when the two of them were at the threshold leading out into the cold, wet night.
"Tread carefully out there, turian," Javik warned in a low voice.
"Why, I had no idea that you cared," cooed Garrus, eliciting an annoyed grunt from the prothean.
"Even in this rain you will not be invisible," said Javik, dryly. "And remember, our quarry does not want to be found. They will show you no mercy if they see you. So do not hesitate to kill them, or you will end up like the krogan."
"Uh huh. Thanks for the pep talk…"
Bracing himself for the inevitable sting of cold rain and wind, he took another deep breath through his nostrils and exhaled slowly. For a split second he wondered if this truly was a bright idea. Running head first into a potential Cerberus nest was normally something he would jump at the chance to do, but that was usually with Shepard leading the way.
His mandibles twitched unconsciously at the thought of Shepard. If he was standing beside him right now at the threshold, what would he say? Would he even approve of Garrus and Wrex's plan? Or the risk that Garrus was on the verge of taking? Would he have come up with a better plan that didn't involve running through a storm without cover?
Garrus pushed the thought of Shepard from his mind. One thing he knew the Commander wouldn't do was waste time second guessing himself. He would follow through, and deal with the consequences as they came.
Wish you could be here with me, Shepard. At least then they'd have someone else to aim at.
Adjusting his visor to give him better vision in the rain, he shouldered his rifle, and took off.
Keeping as low as possible, Garrus dashed for the closest pile of rubble he could use as cover. The howling wind whipped ferociously in his ears and the biting rain relentlessly stung at his face but he pressed on. His boots splashed loudly against the wet pavement and he nearly slipped and fell as he ducked beneath the rubble.
He waited quietly for a moment for any sort of reaction, but all he could hear or feel was the wind and rain.
"See anything?" Garrus grunted into his radio. He clutched his rifle tightly as he waited for a response. If he had been spotted, he was expecting the crack of rifle fire to puncture through the wind any second now. But to his relief, nothing came.
"No," confirmed Javik through his ear piece. "You are clear."
Garrus perked his head up and looked out into the plaza. He carefully calculated his path and how long it should take him to reach the other side. Roughly 7-12 seconds between each piece of usable cover between him and the building. More than enough time for even a novice sniper to take a clean shot at him. Garrus took another breath, jumped up from his cover, and ran.
His feet pounded hard against the wet pavement, sending water splashing in all directions as he thundered full speed across the plaza. He counted the seconds as he moved, carefully timing himself as he ducked behind his chosen hiding spots. After reaching one piece of cover he would momentarily wait for any sign that he had been spotted, and after several long seconds of relative silence, he would get back up and keep moving. Again and again, Garrus continued this routine until at last he had reached the other side.
Garrus smiled contently to himself as leaned his back against the wall to rest and catch his breath. Either there were no eyes on the plaza, or he had somehow managed to slip by unnoticed.
"Made it," he exclaimed into his radio, his breath steadying into a calm rhythm.
"Good!" croaked Wrex through the comms. "See anything interesting yet?"
Now that he was against the building, the reaper overhead blocked most of the incoming rain, making it much easier for his visor to illuminate things in the dark. Garrus turned his attention to the truck. It sat motionless just as it had when they had first spotted across the plaza. Quietly, he crept along the wall until he reached the vehicle. The bed of the truck was empty and he could see no sign of any of the warheads or even tools.
Garrus moved toward the cab and took hold of the door handle. With a twist of his wrist, he wrenched the driver side door open and swung it outward. Garrus jumped back in alarm as a dark shape from inside the cabin seemingly lunged at him. Instinctively he leveled his rifle directly at the oncoming threat and was a split second away from squeezing the trigger when, instead of attacking him, the dark shape simply fell and slumped awkwardly on the ground.
Garrus' mandibles twitched as he took a good look at just what had fallen out of the truck. The dark shape turned out to be a dead human. A human male with a bloodied face and a twisted neck was looking back up at him, a look of pained horror just barely visible from beneath a thick layer of dried blood and torn flesh.
Garrus shook his head, sadly. "Wrex, I found the human driver. He's dead."
"Well… there goes one idea," Wrex grumbled in his ear.
Garrus knelt down beside the body and did a quick scan with his omni-tool. The readings showed that the man was likely to have died roughly around the same time as Wrex's krogan, and that his neck had snapped from severe blunt force trauma. Garrus wondered if perhaps the man had accidentally killed himself by crashing into the wall, but there was no signs of serious damage to the truck or any skid marks on the ground that would indicate that he had even tried to brake.
"Looks like somebody snapped his neck," said Garrus into his comms. "The truck definitely isn't here by chance."
Garrus turned to look at the hole in the wall that he had spotted earlier. There was no guarantee that it led anywhere in particular, and the building that it led into looked as if it could collapse at any moment, but still the curiosity burned in his brain.
"Ok. I'm going into the building," he said into his comms.
"You sure about this, Garrus?" asked Wrex with a hint of warning in his deep voice.
"I'll be quick. If I see anything, I'll radio you."
"I really don't think that's a smart idea," replied Wrex.
Yeah… You're probably right, he replied silently in his mind.
Shouldering his rifle, Garrus crept as stealthy as he could up to the entry in the wall and took a look inside. He peered down his scope into the opening, allowing its enhanced optics to give him a clearer picture of whatever was beyond it.
An empty hallway was all that greeted him.
Breathing a little easier, Garrus stepped through the portal and into the ruined building. Almost immediately, the wind that had relentlessly assaulted his senses was dulled, and all Garrus could hear was his own footsteps. Slowly, he pushed further and further into the building. He didn't dare activate his flashlight, instead opting to let his visor and rifle scope do most of the work of allowing him to navigate the pitch blackness of the halls.
Odd noises kept him on edge as he walked. He did his best to filter out the sounds that he knew to be non threatening, like stray drips from broken pipes or rain somehow finding its way into the building. Every now and then there would be a strange sound that would grab Garrus' imagination and make him wonder if something was creeping up on him.
After rounding yet another dark corner within the building, a new sound suddenly joined the chorus of drips and creeks. A familiar rhythmic sound that was echoing from further down the hallway. A sound that was drawing closer.
Footsteps!
Almost instinctively, Garrus dove into the nearby open doorway of an abandoned apartment and pressed himself against the wall.
The footsteps grew louder and louder.
Garrus leveled his rifle at the door and steadied his breath. His imagination ran wild as he tried to predict what was coming toward him. He pictured a Cerberus trooper, probably just out on patrol accidentally stumbling into the room, failing to notice the heavily armed turian with the end of a high powered rifle aimed squarely at his face until it was too late. If that turned out to be true, Garrus would happily take the shot and make for the exit as fast as he could. No doubt the sound of his rifle would alert his buddies who'd come after him with guns blazing.
He held his breath as the sound of the footsteps grew louder and louder until… they didn't. Garrus remained motionless as the footsteps slowly grew quieter and quieter.
He walked past…
Carefully stepping out from his hiding spot within the apartment, Garrus quietly leaned out to peek down the hall and see who or what had passed by. Wearing full standard issue combat gear and hefting an assault rifle with its flashlight shining brightly as he casually strolled down the hall, was an Alliance marine.
Garrus' mandibles twitched.
Of all the things he suspected of finding here of all places, a living alliance soldier wasn't among them. Garrus watched silently as the human continued his slow march down the ruined hallway. A bombardment of questions assaulted Garrus' mind all at once.
What's an alliance soldier doing here? There was a general order to stay at least a kilometer away from all reaper capital ships. Is he part of search and rescue? If so, why here? And where is the rest of his team?
He pondered a hundred different ideas before one dark idea stuck out in his mind.
Maybe this human isn't part of the alliance after all…
Garrus exhaled bitterly through his nostrils as he watched the human turn a corner and disappear from view.
That's it, he thought angrily to himself. Cerberus is disguising themselves as Alliance marines to avoid detection.
Garrus' train of thought was interrupted by a new noise coming from down the hall. From the same direction that the lone human had come from was a low humming sound. Garrus couldn't quite put his finger on what the new sound was at first, but then it hit him.
That sounds like… a shuttle engine?
Putting the passing human out of his mind, Garrus immediately wheeled around and moved back down the hallway toward the sound. He quickened his pace, still being careful to avoid making any noise in an attempt to avoid the unwanted attention of any other patrolling humans that might be nearby.
He rounded a corner where, instead of darkness waiting for him, he saw a faint light shining into the hall from a large opening along the wall. He couldn't see the source of the light, but he could see several shadows moving in front of it. And in addition to the low rumble of shuttle engines, he could now hear voices. Human voices.
Garrus didn't dare go any further down that hallway. As much as he yearned to go and poke his head through the opening to see what was going on, he couldn't be sure that whoever was in there would be friendly, and judging by the sheer number of shadows and voices, there were many of them.
An adjacent stairwell caught his eye. Light was shining from the top of it, though only just a little, and he saw no moving shadows nor heard any voices coming from it. Deciding to follow a hunch that was gradually forming in his mind, Garrus readied his rifle and stepped into the stairwell. Up and up he cautiously crept along, keeping his rifle aimed squarely upward and at the corners in case somebody came walking down.
The light grew a bit more intense as he reached the top of the stairs, but he breathed a bit easier when he saw that the stairwell had emptied onto what appeared to be a deserted floor just above where all the light and the noise was coming from. Through a broken wall across from where he was standing Garrus could see that there was an enormous hole in the floor that opened up over the landing below, and above that hole was another similar sized opening in the ceiling above him, and another in the ceiling above it, and another above that. It looked as if a reaper, possibly the one that was lying above them all now, had at some point stepped through the building, leaving a long opening from the roof that led all the way to the bottom floor.
Garrus looked for a good vantage point that he could use to see what was going on down below. All he could find were a few scattered support pillars and the low remains of a wall that was somehow still standing in spite of the catastrophic damage the area had suffered. Garrus was silently disappointed with his options, but for now they would have to do.
Carefully, Garrus made his way toward the nearest pillar, meticulously planting his boots as softly as he could so as not to make any noise until he reached his new perch. Keeping himself concealed in the shadows, he leveled his rifle and peered down to the floor below.
He saw dozens of humans. All of them in alliance uniforms. Some were busy filling or moving crates of gear over toward four, blue Kodiak shuttles, three of which had their engines thrumming in anticipation of take off. Most of the others were sitting in a staging area in the middle of the room, every one of them finishing up putting on combat gear and loading weapons with fresh thermal clips. But out of all the various humans that were obliviously working below him, there were four in particular that caught his eye.
Four humans in jet black armor were gathered around a small makeshift table at the back near the shuttles. Two of them appeared to be female. One of the females wore a tight fitting combat suit and was absentmindedly playing with a long black blade. Every few seconds she would balance the hilt of her sword in her palm before twirling it in the air and catching it as easily as a well trained athlete would catch a ball.
There's our phantom, he thought grimly to himself.
The other woman seemed much more focused. With her arms folded in front of her, she was busy looking over a holographic screen on a small computer alongside one of the males. Her armor was similar to that of the phantom's, black and form fitting, but instead of a helmet she had a deep hood covering most of her head, along with a full faced breather mask that's features looked eerily like that of a human skull.
Sitting on the other side of the table across from her was probably the largest human Garrus had ever seen. The man wore a heavy looking combat suit covered in thick, angular metal plates that covered him from head to toe, and installed on top of one of his broad shoulders, Garrus saw what looked to be a small cannon of some kind. The large man wasn't looking at the holographic screen with the others, instead he was busy adjusting the barrel rotors of a geth made weapon that Garrus had the unfortunate privilege of being shot at with many times in the past: a spitfire.
Garrus turned his attention to the final human. This one was different from the other three. He wore similar black armor, but unlike the others he didn't have his helmet on. The man had messy silver hair that dangled loosely down his heavily scarred face, ending just before the end of a stubble covered jawline, as well as a set of piercing amber eyes that were completely focused on the holographic computer screen in front of him.
Garrus watched the man speak a few words with the masked woman beside him. Unable to hear him and unable to read human lips, Garrus could only assume that the silver haired man was probably giving her some instructions. The man was interrupted when his omni-tool flared to life on his arm, and he brought it up to read a message he had apparently just received. Garrus studied the man's face as he read it. The message must've been something the man was eagerly waiting to receive because his eyes instantly lit up and his lips curled into a wicked smirk.
Once he was finished reading, he said something to the others around him, deactivated his omni-tool, and shut down the computer. That's when Garrus saw it. What had once been obscured by the computer was now clear as day, and the sight of it nearly caused his jaw to drop. Emblazoned on the silver haired man's breastplate was an emblem Garrus was all too familiar with.
An N7.
Garrus continued to watch, dumbstruck, as the N7 and the other black armored humans stepped away from the makeshift table and gathered their equipment. His mind raced to understand what he was looking at. If these were alliance soldiers, then what were they doing here hiding underneath a reaper? Why would they have killed the krogan and the truck driver? Why would they steal Thannix warheads?
He could see no trace of anything related to Cerberus here either. There were no Cerberus emblems to be found, none of their typical equipment lying around, and most damning of all, none of the humans he saw had the tell-tale signs of the cybernetic enhancements that Cerberus soldiers were known to possess throughout the war. And these couldn't be civilians either. The way they moved and carried themselves showed that they had to have had at least some military training.
"Time to move out!" he heard the silver haired N7 below out to the other humans in a strong, commanding voice. Without any protest or questions, the soldiers who had been busy gearing up, wordlessly hefted their weapons and filed one by one to the waiting shuttles.
"Wrex," whispered Garrus into comms. "What's yours status?"
"My ass is getting sore waiting here. You find anything yet?"
"Yeah. I think I found your killers," responded Garrus, his eyes still fixated on the N7 emblem on the silver haired man's chest.
"Good!" boomed Wrex, the vicious glee in his deep voice palpable. "Sit tight! I'm gonna radio Grunt and give him our coordinates. Don't let those Cerberus bastards out of your sight!"
"I don't think they're Cerberus…"
There was a long, awkward pause over their shared comms. "Not Cerberus? Then who the hell are they?"
A dark feeling washed over Garrus as the words formed in his mouth, and the sheer implication of them made him feel more uncertain about the future now than he had been since the firing of the Crucible.
"The Alliance."
Author's Note:
I'd like to humbly apologize to everybody who's been following this story for taking so long to finally post an update. Life has been a little crazy for me these last few years and until recently its been a struggle to find the time and energy to keep writing, but this story has been a labor of love for me and I have no plans of abandoning it anytime soon. Writing is a relatively new hobby of mine and I've been learning a lot about the writing process just by working on this story. I cannot guarantee that I'll be able to upload on a consistent basis, but rest assured I intend to see this story through to the end. It's been bouncing around in my head long enough that it deserves to be put on paper.
So thank you to everyone who has been following this story over the years, and thank you to every new reader who may be just stumbling across my story about a certain quarian's quest to protect the ones she loves. I appreciate you all giving my story your valuable time and attention, and hope you have as much fun reading it as I've had writing it.
Happy reading, everybody! Keelah Se'lai!