Revised 1/11/19. A lot of helpful criticism was directed towards this chapter. I've edited the largest offender and written some explanations at the bottom.
/
Chapter 13: The Twenty Third Knife, Part 2
Location: Iota Station, 23 Librae system. Date: December 16, 2187, Species Alliance calendar. March 17, 2596, UNSC calendar.
Why me? Why put me in charge of all this?
You were the best of us. You're achievements were indisputable. You're abilities incomparable. You were an image the galaxy knew and could rally behind in their darkest hour. A hero who held the line so others could stand and fight.
We'll get it done.
You always did. Sovereign, Omega 4, Aratoht, Earth, you accomplished everything that was asked of you and gave all you had in the end.
Yes, sir.
I need your help. I'm all that's left. Billions look up to me for their survival without knowing it. I must preserve the alliance you forged but I'm not you. I need your strength, your patience, your capabilities. I need you here, Commander, but you're gone.
Are you sure?
/
A lance of pure pain shot through Hackett's skull and woke him from unconsciousness. One look to the left and his ragged breath caught in his throat. The reinforced glass of the SUV bowed inward not seven inches from his nose, the dark mass of a bullet visible inside.
Hands grabbed the edges of his uniform and pulled him to the floor. Hackett found himself face to face with an animated Jacob Taylor half incoherently yelling at him.
"...ay down, ...miral ...kett, stay down! Stay here!" Taylor's voice gained coherency as the throbbing pain in Hackett's head lessened. Taylor slid out of the SUV's open side door opposite the incoming fire and vanished.
Hackett flipped onto his stomach and pulled himself to the lip of the vehicle. A UNSC MP appeared right in front of him and beckoned Hackett to stay back. The sound of fracturing glass and a loud crack accompanied the MP's head snapping viciously backwards and his body hitting the asphalt.
"Sniper!" an indistinct voice called out, "The window is gone!"
Jacob Taylor reappeared and hauled Hackett out of the SUV by his underarms and was rather unceremoniously dropped next to the dead MP. Taylor speedily slammed the SUV's sliding door shut and the already cracked window fractured further under fire but held. Hackett rose to his knees and propped himself up against the vehicle's side. Taylor, Ashley, and Vega all clustered around him with their pistols and SMGs out and ready to defend.
Lasky was only a few feet away conversing vigorously with the last remaining MP while the lawyer O'Gren kept his head down nearby. "...two explosives detonated at the front and rear of the convoy," the MP relayed, "Vehicles A1 through A7 and A16 to A20 are gone. Destroyed or thrown off the highway, we're not sure yet."
Lasky turned to Hackett and knew he'd heard everything. "My advisors were in vehicle 17," Hackett said solemnly.
"So was General Hastings," Lasky replied, "but they could still be alive." He turn back to the MP, "Where's General Dasher?
"The general is coordinating counterfire, sir."
Lasky popped open and reached through the driver side door. He pulled out a metal case from beneath the seat and bodies and undid the latches. "Here, put these on," He said sliding the case to the Normandy group.
Hackett flipped the lid up and found several watchlike devices staring back at him even though they had no clockface. One look back at Lasky was all Hackett needed to convey his question.
"Shield emitters," Lasky explained, "Put them on your wrist and touch the top." He turned back to the MP, "Cover us. We're reconnecting with General Dasher." The MP moved to the back of the SUV.
Hackett took an emitter and strapped it to his wrist. Touching the top, a light blue film enveloped him and faded away. His bodyguards did the same to identical effect as did Lasky and O'Gren. Without reminder, Hackett and the others reached for their waistbands and activated another device attached there. A second film of a darker shade of blue flared into existence and vanished just as the first of UNSC make. Lasky noticed this and nodded in understanding before turning back to the road ahead.
Lasky arranged himself in a position to spring forward and placed his hand on the MP's shoulder. Another MP across the way gave a thumbs up. He was ready. The distance was a scant 15 feet, but the fire was thick and Lasky was old.
Both MPs nodded to each other and popped out, laying fire on the as of yet unseen enemy. Lasky and O'Gren dashed for it. Bullets struck their shields but they didn't fail. The MP from across the way latched onto Lasky's uniform and swung him to cover. A sniper round smashed the exposed MP in the face. The bullet wasn't powerful enough the break his shield, but the force was more than enough to snap his spine. His lifeless body draped over the concrete divider wall and slipped through the open gap between lanes.
Given a momentary reprieve from the haze in his head, Hackett took a moment to survey his surroundings. The highway was a mess. The four oncoming lanes were blocked by a thick sea of stalled vehicles. Civilians scurried about, trying to find cover or get away. Some were stuck in their vehicles the jam was so tight. Others tried to navigate their way through and some tried to crawl under. A desperate few took to the roofs of vehicles to escape and rarely made it far. The lanes the convoy occupied were much the same but worse.
Hackett looked over through a portion of still transparent glass and saw the source of everything. One of the many skyscrapers used as a physical anchor for the suspended highway. About ten floors of which towered over the road and the upper five seemed to have a blazing machine gun in every window.
A hand grabbed the front of Hackett's uniform and pulled him close. The half concealed face of the MP filled his vision and had it not been for the golden visor or the wrap-around helmet, Hackett would've felt the man judging him.
"You're next, sir," the MP said with calm resolution.
"We'll all go together," Taylor interjected, "There's little chance they can pop all our shields before we make it." The Normandy security team all voiced their agreement and the MP didn't voice any argument. It was agreed.
The group of five arranged themselves in a compass formation. Hackett in the middle, Taylor up front, Vega to the right, and Ashley in back. The MP took the left spot and gripped Hackett with his right hand where the admiral noted a missing ring finger.
"GO!" Taylor screamed. Immediately the group leapt forward. Instantly the shields of all five persons lit up with hits. They made it across without a scratch.
Lasky met them and ushered them along. The sound of a weapon's fire echoed from within the SUV and Hackett spared a passing glance to see the heavy weapon emplacement set up by the UNSC MPs to fire out the broken window and the glowing blue projectiles it fired.
Crossing to the next SUV was of no issue as it hadn't stopped in time and rear ended the one in front of it. There was a gap to cross between the SUV after, but the surrounding civilian vehicles provided cover.
Few occupied the current SUV. An MP with medic marked armor was applying first aid to an injured UNSC officer. He reached a bloodied hand out of the SUV's open door to Lasky.
"Admiral, sir, " the officer said weakly, "Last burst transmission from… Uh... HIGHCOM." Blood began to froth from his mouth and the movements of the medic increased in pace. "Rebel insurgents have swarmed the city. AI infrastructure is down. Marine counter response is imminent. Law enforcement cas… casualties too high. Iota lockdown or… ordered. Ah… no." His arm fell limply away and his eyes glazed over.
Admiral Lasky stared at the dead officer for a moment with the Normandy group observing. "First Lieutenant Arryn Robins," the Admiral said, "one of my aides. Married, no children, no other living family. Duty first and foremost in his mind to the end like so many others." Lasky turned his head to Hackett and those around him. "He embodies the UNSC in this moment."
"Oh, so why is he dead?," Jacob Taylor sneered, "Why are there rebels shooting at us? If the Assembly is humanity's chosen government, what reason have they to rebel?"
Lasky's eyes rose to find the medic ignoring the Alliance soldier. "What killed him," he asked grimly.
"A sniper's shot, sir. Went right through the window."
"Hmm," Lasky pondered the medic's words then scuttled to the next gap between vehicles. "The UNSC has been clashing with secessionist groups for over a hundred years and well before the Covenant," Lasky said to Taylor. "After the War, the inactivity of the UEG allowed the Insurrection to resurge. With the installation of the Assembly, they were routed. We destroyed them. But, apparently we missed some and cornered animals fight all the harder."
Lasky cast a glance at each Normandy crew member present until he landed on Hackett. "You people are so full of naivety and confidence in your ability to succeed. You seem mostly to default on negotiation to solve problems. Even though you're fresh out of a war of genocide, you seemingly haven't learned the lesson you've been dealt. A lesson we learned after our own genocide and a hundred years of war. A lesson you're Commander Shepard seemed to understand perfectly." Lasky looked right into Hackett's eyes, "Negotiations work on a rare few. The sword and the scalpel are absolutely required everywhere else."
Lasky left the Normandy group to stew as he peered a few vehicles ahead. General Dasher, commander of the UNSC Army, was two SUVs away shouting into a portable radio while a squad of MPs covered her.
Lasky gestured frantically to get her attention. He got it. Her gaunt face rose ever so slightly when she noticed Lasky. A ghost of a relieved smile appeared.
"ROCKET!"
That ghostly smile was perfectly framed by the cloud of fire and dust that enveloped it. The General's SUV rose into the air along with the bodies of several people. Lasky lost his footing and fell but never lost sight of the uniformed fireball that hurdled over the highway and vanished into the metropolis below.
Lasky was spun around and the visored face of his MP escort appeared. "Admiral, you good!?" the soldier asked.
Lasky ignored him and peered around his frame to the people from another dimension. "RPGs come in pairs," he croaked out as his age made itself known not for the first but maybe the last time.
Jacob Taylor realized grimly what the UNSC admiral meant and rose to his full height. Over the top of the group's cover, Jacob saw the plume of white smoke and fire that signified death in but a few milliseconds.
Grasping the miniscule yet potent power within him, he threw his arms forward sheathed in dark blue. A biotic Barrier sprang up and took the rocket's impact. The shockwave rolled over the group but they felt little of it. Shrapnel sprayed everywhere but at them.
When it was over Jacob let his arms fall limply to his side. Warm liquid ran from his nose and his knees buckled. The MP was the one to catch the tired biotic and guide him to a sitting position against the divider wall. Jacob's last moments of consciousness where spent observing the MP's mouth twist into a menacing grin then all was nothing.
/
The dust woke her. At first it was just speckles, then the intensity picked up until her face was blanketed.
Liara T'soni jolted to consciousness and sucked a ragged deep breath. Only to cough it all out along with an unhealthy amount of unbreathable particulate. Memories of the immediate past played through her head. Like a checklist, making sure it was all there.
Hackett's disastrous blunder at the negotiation table. Though, in retrospective the admiral's actions wouldn't have been met with such a response back home. Back home it was commonplace to lay down a brief outline of what was to happen and what was expected during the initial meeting. Not here.
Being split from the others and directed to a different vehicle along with Tali. In that same vehicle was the UNSC's General Hastings, commander of their air force if she remembered correctly. An uncomfortably paunchy bald man who'd made it painfully clear during the ride that he had little interest in helping the Species Alliance, but was very intrigued with how future trade agreements could benefit the UNSC and the Assembly.
Then she was here. All audio was replaced with dull white noise, gravity took a back seat, and the world was reduced to circles. Only after a jarring impact did gravity return, but it was wrong. Gravity was pulling on Liara's right side and up was seemingly left. The seat restraints she wore had kept her elevated but were gouging into her body.
Liara strained her head up and found the source of the dust. A small triangular piece of the SUV's window had fallen out, leaving enough room for the detritus to filter through. The window itself was heavily damaged. Almost to the point of failing entirely.
Sucking in air through her teeth, Liara observed the interior of the SUV. She was no stranger to carnage, but it was never easy. There had been eight people in the vehicle including Liara and Tali, five soldier escorts with MP markings, and General Hastings. Four of the MPs were unmoving, likely dead. One MP directly across from Liara and likewise suspended sideways was stirring. His helmet had fallen off. Thankfully, Tali and General Hastings were all alive. Their subtly breathing movements revealed it. Though Tali was completely suspended off the floor by her restraints and Hastings was immobilized by one of the still MPs.
Liara struggled to free herself but froze when she heard something clamber atop the SUV with a terrible racket. The still living MP heard the noise too and began straining to reach his weapon.
A figure appeared through the window above Liara. The window's broken condition prevented her from distinguishing any features and gave the person a shadowy appearance. A shape clutched at the figure's side seemed to be a weapon to Liara.
A new series of noise, this time viscous crashes and bangs, sounded from the other end of the SUV. The MP's efforts to reach his weapon intensified as the door nearest to him was wrenched open. A gunshot rang out and his efforts stopped.
General Hastings was now fully alert and staring up at the assailant who remained out of Liara's sight. "You, eh?" he said, "Damn you. God damn you all!" The anger in the general's face rose by the word. "Damn you malcontents to Hell! Couldn't accept the changes the galaxy forced on us! The concessions we were forced to make for unity! Couldn't accept how your complaints were deemed inconsequential! How you failed to win the majority by any margin! So you took up arms and turned to radicalism! To Hell with you!"
General Hastings took a slow deep breath, seamingly at peace with his next decision. "I'd say your predecessors had better cause than you." A torrent of unbridled gunfire roared for several seconds, deafening Liara and leaving the general's torso and face a red mess.
Moments passed in silence. A figure dropped down into the vehicle from the wrenched open door. It was a human man clad in a patchwork of civilian grade body armor, a cloth mask concealed everything but his eyes, and he held a compact weapon. The man placed his fingers on the general's neck; confirming the kill.
Only after did he look around. His weapon snapped up at the sight of Liara and Tail. Being the only conscious one, Liara flinched expecting to die and still too stunned to gather the focus for biotics.
The weapon lowered and its owner stood up and started speaking to whoever else was with him. The door nearest to Liara was pulled open similarly to the first and several masked persons stared down at her. The first one crouched back down into the vehicle and pulled a knife. Sliding the blade between Tali's suit and the restraints, the man cleanly sliced each one.
The Quarian fell and hit the opposing wall hard and face first. Her visor fractured but held together. A small shard did fall out of place though, revealing a purple tinted eyelid underneath. Liara's thankfulness for the Geth's expedient solution to the Quarians' problematic immunity increased several fold. Tali surely would've been doomed to die otherwise.
The masked man gripped Tali under the shoulders and easily pushed her out the open door. He then did the same to Liara, cutting her out of her restraints then pushing her up for the other masked people to pull her out.
Liara's inner fighter was demanding a reaction, demanding she fight. Simultaneously, the part of Liara that had made her the galaxy's premier information broker demanded she bide her time and see what could be learned from these enemies of the reigning state. She listened to the latter.
Liara and Tali were unceremoniously allowed to drop to the paved ground. They were then gently placed in sitting positions against the exposed underside of the SUV. Liara kept her biotics ready the whole time, just under the surface.
The masked one who stepped forward and kneeled in front of Liara was pegged as either the leader or spokesperson for the group by the Asari while the other three took up a semi-circle formation around him. A gore stained glove identified the kneeling mask as the general's killer.
"What are you?" the kneeling person asked.
"A newly contacted species?" one of the other masks questioned.
"Or an ONI oddity." the kneeling one said more like a statement than a question. "Do you speak our language?"
Liara responded by holding up one hand in the human gesture for 'a little' and spoke a phrase in native Asari. A straight lie, but necessary. They'd be more likely to speak freely if they though Liara couldn't understand them.
"You are from a newly contacted species are you?"
Liara hesitantly nodded.
"This is your race's first formal meeting with humanity?" the kneeling mask glanced between Liara and Tail and a slightly excited edge entered his voice. "You're envoys or diplomats maybe?"
Liara didn't respond and the kneeling mask rose and rejoined his comrades. Now given more of an opportunity, Liara took a moment to observe these odd humans. The one who had been speaking most of the time was the shortest of the four, two were of average build, and the third was a tall broad shouldered man well over six feet. Their armor and masks concealed just about everything else.
The ground around them vibrated with the sound of an explosion and little pieces of debris rained down around the area. A look upwards revealed just how far down the SUV had fallen from the highway and it was dizzying. Liara sucked in a breath and held it, thinking about her comrades still up there.
"The traitors and the dogs are almost done with each other," one of the unidentified masks noted as they observed the commotion above. "We'd better leave before the winner comes looking."
"What can we do about them?" one of the averaged sized masks wondered.
"We take them back to the leaders," the shorter of the four began explaining. "If we sway this alien government to our cause we could make some serious headway. Bring back the strength humanity has lost."
"What if it backfires and they turn against us?" the average sized mask from earlier asked.
"It could be worth a shot. We'll never know if we don't try." chimed in the second averaged sized mask. The tallest of the four stayed silent.
A period of silent deliberation seamed to pass before the shorter human, whom liara pegged as the leader of this group, stated, "They're coming with us. Grab 'em."
Liara was gently hoisted up by the two average sized humans. Being fully conscious, Liara shook them off and stood on her own, though her left leg pained her. Tali, still being out of it, remained in the arms of the large human.
"Who?" Liara questioned simply; maintaining the facade of limited understanding.
"We're soldiers fighting for the return of the old government and the unity and solidarity it represented," the short leader figure said with conviction, "We aim to destroy the Assembly and bring back the might of Unified Earth. We are the Terran Restorative Union."
A second explosion rocked the air above them and the group shielded themselves from the debris. "It's time to go." the leading mask stated and they all began moving to the cover of a nearby corridor.
Before the battle above was completely out of sight Liara took stock of the apparent situation. Three factions were vying for position here: the Assembly and the UNSC, whatever manner of insurgents they were currently fighting, and this Union. A movement to restore an older model of government by radical means. Liara filed this information away and the commotion above disappeared.
She was eager to learn more.
/
The conflict had devolved from an ambush, to a brawling firefight, to a slugfest of attrition. Hackett, Lasky, and the team from the Normandy all kept their heads down as it raged above and around them. UNSC MPs all around did much the same as the rebels hosed the highway with fire, their ammunition supply seamingly unlimited. An occasional sniper shot lanced through a window or between vehicles.
They were probing, trying to flush out their targets. Those targets were evidently officers. General Dasher and Lieutenant Robins attested to it, and if either Lasky or Hackett and their uniforms came into view all focus would fall squarely on them. Without the biotic support of Jacob Taylor the likelihood they'd survive was low and they knew it.
There was no escape, no avenue to slip away. Civilian vehicles had pinned the convoy in and buried it deeper with every passing minute. What few civilians remained made like the soldiers and stayed as low as humanly possible. The heavy weapon emplacement set up by the MPs had gone silent, its operators killed by sniper fire.
The MP medic managing the convoy's sole working COM set called out to the admirals hunkered down outside his vehicle, "Convoy B's fought off its ambush. They're in route to us. Additional reinforcement inbound, expected fifteen minutes till arrival."
"Too damn long," Lasky muttered and let his head slump against the vehicle. "Ever endured something like this in your career, admiral?" he asked Hackett.
"No," the Alliance flag officer responded, "Never."
"To this extent, me neither," Lasky admitted.
/
Several times now they had descended further into the bowels of Iota Station. Liara still maintained a mental map of their passage just in case. An accurate accounting of time passed, however, was getting difficult.
She'd started walking on her own after a while. The numbness and shock from the crash had worn off, negating the need for support. A firm hand still remained on her shoulder to keep her moving in the right direction and at the demanded pace. Tail remained limp and draped across the shoulders of the larger human. However, Liara's omni-tool had receive a ping. The Quarian was faking unconsciousness and lying in wait for Liara's next move.
Feeling less insecure about her situation, Liara further pondered a nagging question. The architecture around them had changed rather abruptly. Gone were the apparently human designs of soft rounded angles and grey-white coloring. In its place was now a scheme of hard angled geometric surfaces and blast-white silver coloration with occasional lances of blue shining between the spaces. The floor changed too, hard stairs transitioned after a grated over landing to gentle sloped ramps made of a translucent material. Liara could look down and view motts of light seemingly dance underfoot.
"This is not human?" Her expertise in archeology, architecture, and a wealth of previously acquired knowledge lead her to an immediate conclusion but she had to ask all the same.
"No it's not," the human behind her said, he sounded young. They did not pause for the conversation, just kept moving. "Those military bigwigs didn't tell you?"
"No," she answered truthfully. She'd remained in her quarters aboard the Normandy amidst what little of her information network she could connect to during the trip here. There wasn't much of the station she could from her window when the Normandy approached and much of that was in shadow.
"It's a sham anyway," the human declared. "Marketed to show humanity's strength but all it shows is just how badly we've sold out."
"What do you mean?" Liara questioned, risking her facade of simplicity to facilitate the human's spiel. Idealistic youths rarely could control themselves once given an audience and a passion of theirs was brought to the forefront. This human was no different.
"Humankind has innovated and progressed all on our own for the entirety of out recorded history. We forged our civilisation, solved the problem of faster-than-light travel, created space worthy ships, colonized several hundred locations all with homegrown human technology.
When the War rolled in and we were on the brink of extermination adapting the enemy's technology for our purposes was sensible. But after? After the War innovation for necessity fell away in favor of plug-and-go convenience. With the discovery of the Forerunners and the defeat of the Covenant, all our recent achievements can be chalked up dead alien races and governments. Nothing is wholly human anymore.
It can be stopped. The restrictive policies of the old government kept this bastardization in check but the Assembly has allowed it to run rampant. We aim to bring back the centralized authority of the UEG, failing that, a return to the regulations against alien technology."
"With fighting?" Liara questioned. She tilted her head back slightly to get a look at the human.
"It's the only route the Assembly has left us," explained the human. "Strike and sabotage what they cherish and maybe they'll start to see it differently."
A glance towards Tail nearby and back to Liara confirmed the Asari's suspicions about the human's next train of thought.
"We need help," he said, "If your peoples are advanced enough to contact the Assembly, you could aid our cause. Humanity under our old ways is a much more desirable ally. We could uplift you. Guide you through the hellscape that is this galaxy, but not as we are."
"How?" Liara said. The human spoke a compelling proposition but it was obviously a losing cause. Additionally, if he truly believed she'd consider his proposal after watching him brutally murder a UNSC general he was delusional. Liara's mind was made up. She was simply permitting herself to be taken along for whatever information could be gleaned from this dissonant organization.
"How is not for me to decide," the human explained, "our commander will do that."
Liara and Tail were led by their entourage of four humans into a massive vaulted chamber. The silver walled glistened and gleamed as blue and white hued lighting strobed up and down their lengths. This ship or station, whatever it might be, wasn't human made but neither was it derelict.
The floor of the chamber wasn't a flat plane. Partial pyramid structures rose up to provide elevated platforms and ramps led up antechambers and hallways seemingly carved out of the walls. And everywhere there were humans.
Aside from piecemeal armor there wasn't a uniform or insignia to be seen. Many manned out of place terminals set up on the platforms or lugged equipment crates to stockpiles. Others passed out gear and weapons to groups passing through. It was a command center and a staging area.
Liara and Tali were brought down to the main floor where they were met by a man whose stride screamed military and was surrounded by a number of aides. He was old too: hair, beard, and mustache all neatly trimmed and colored a steely white; eyes that caught every detail with a single glance; and a mouth permanently pressed into a thin line.
The humans surrounding the two Normandy crew all removed their masks revealing youthful and determined faces. Standing in front of who must been their commander, Liara could feel the reverence the humans held for him. He had to be quite the leader to hold the complete trust of his subordinates.
"Did you accomplish your mission? And what is this?" the commander's voice was powerful and demanded attention and an answer.
"The Innies beat us to the ambush site," the human who'd done much of the talking along the way said with a slight trace of remorse. "We had to hunker down under the highway and observe. But we did kill a councilor whose vehicle fell from the highway."
"Which councilor?"
"General Hastings."
"Hmm," the commander's eyes swept back and forth. "And them?" he asked a second time gesturing to Liara and Tali.
"We found them in the same vehicle as the general. They're most likely emissaries from a newly contacted civilisation. We figured if we rescued them we could leverage aid from their people."
They saw you kill the general?' the commander questioned.
"Yes," said the still unnamed human speaker. "It was unavoidable."
"I see. How well do they understand our language?"
"Very little from what we could tell. They must've had a translator."
The commander turned to an aide, "Get a transport prepped," he turned back to the group, "You four will stay on escort. Get them off this station."
The four humans all nodded at once and Liara made a decision. No way was she and Tali leaving with them. At the nearest opportunity they'd break cover and run. To where? Anywhere but there.
A second aide approached the commander and tapped him on the shoulder, catching his full attention. "New updates are in." she said.
As the aide began listing off the happenings outside, Liara became aware of something. One of the humans who'd brought her here, a man with a thin face and jet black hair, was rapidly scanning the edges of the room with only his eyes and barely moved his head. He noticed Liara staring at him and his scanning ceased but the effect was already in place. Dread formed in Liara's stomach as she too looked around and saw nothing.
She brought up her biotics but kept them in check and hidden. Cursing her inability to warn Tali, Liara willed the Quarian luck if what she feared came to pass.
"60 percent of secondary and tertiary objectives have been achieved," the aide stated, "encounters with insurrectionist forces are dwindling and sightings of UNSC deployments are rising."
"They're prepping for a counterattack," the commander said. "Were the raids against the financial institutions and stockyards successful?"
"Yes," the aide answered.
"What of the team sent to attack HIGHCOM?"
"We've lost contact."
The commander sighed, "Okay, start pulling our teams back and get ready for evacuations. I'll have to talk to our benefactor about the Innies. We weren't expecting them."
His attention returned to the group surrounding Liara and Tali. "You have your orders. Move-"
Two gunshots roared out, shattering the already present steady din of the chamber. The commander moaned and brought his hand up to his abdomen. Two dark stains were already blossoming regardless of how hard he clutched at them.
The thin faced man was the culprit. A handgun was held by his waist. The chamber at large descended into silence for a fraction of a second. Then the head of the update delivering aide exploded and group around her flew apart in a hail of light. Chaos erupted as gunfire tore the silence to shreds.
Liara couldn't wait any longer. She sheathed herself in a blue film and lashed out with a stasis field. The human speaker for her escort froze, enveloped by stasis. Liara wanted him alive.
She spun around next, watched as the thin faced traitor executed one of his stunned former comrades with a shot to the head. The last of the four humans, the largest of the bunch, unhesitantly tossed Tali aside and charged the betrayer. Tali ceased faking unconsciousness, arrested her fall with her knees, and scrambled to the nearest cover. The large human launched a lumbering strike at his former friend who dodged and whipped the handgun he held across the larger man's face. Blood gushed from a broken nose. The big man stumbled to the floor in pain and the thin faced man leapt atop him and beat him till he ceased moving
An explosion rocked the opposite side of the chamber and sprayed debris all around. One piece of said debris was a pistol that Liara scooped up. It was a different make than the one the thin faced man held but the design philosophy seamed similar even with weapons from back across the dimensional barrier. Whether or not the weapon was loaded or even primed, Liara could only hope as she held it up and aimed at the thin faced man.
Her sights centered and she discovered herself staring down the barrels of several guns. Each towered a foot or more above her and wore armor that called back to images and stories of warriors from the past of many races. More and more revealed themselves from the shadows or flickered into existence from possible active camouflage. They were human in proportion; fluid and graceful in movement; and monstrous in stature. Liara suspected immediately what these had to be; something the governments and organizations back home had only theorized, pondered, and dabbled with but never truly realized: supersoldiers.
"Spartans!" the thin faced man called out, "sitrep." He spared Liara, still holding a pistol in his direction and glowing with biotic energy, a glance. "Hold tight. I'll get with you in a second."
One of the supersoldiers, Spartans, broke off from one of the roving groups and flowed more than walked across the chamber to the man's position. The Spartan snapped a lightning fast salute and said, "Lieutenant," in a feminine voice speckled with static. Any remaining preconception Liara held about these possibly being advanced mechs was shattered. Gender inflected voice programs were illogical at best in a military sense.
The Spartan speaking, more than likely the leader of the present force, continued, "Insurgent FOB secure and clear. Seven outlying outposts secured. Marine deployments have begun in force. Estimated time to situation normal; four hours." The Spartan pulled a small flat piece of equipment from a pack on her back and handed it to the thin faced man. "Orders from NAVCOM, Core 5 directive." The thin faced lieutenant visibly blanched as he holstered his handgun, accepted the TACPAD, and began thumbing through the contents.
In that moment the Stasis field holding the last standing member of the Terran Restorative Union faded from existence. Liara used her free hand and gripped his shirt while placing the barrel of her acquired pistol at the base of his skull. "Don't move if you value living another hour."
"That's solid advice." the lieutenant said without removing his eyes from his orders. "I suggest you listen."
"Screw you, Hans!" the man said. "You were always a weird one. Always seemed like you were hiding a secret and you joined us from out of nowhere. I always thought that was odd!"
"You're crying in the rain, bud. You're whole group was made up of people from nowhere."
The man Liara held looked downward for once and saw the sprawled bodies around them. "You killed Worley," he said more as a statement then anything else. "How's Sam?"
"He'll live," the lieutenant answered, "but the two of you will likely never see a minute past midnight ever again."
The man went weak in the knees and Liara had to jerk him upwards to prevent him falling to the floor. "What does that mean?" Liara spoke, addressing the lieutenant for the first time.
"Midnight Facility is an Office of Naval Intelligence operated maximum security prison," the lieutenant answered succinctly. "Not seeing a minute past midnight denotes permanent incarceration."
"Midnight's reputation is worse than the Jiralhanae slave stores," the man whimpered. He looked backwards pleading at Liara, "Kill me, please."
"Durand, you're always a fanatic drama hog," the lieutenant mocked then shifted his attention to Liara, "His fate is of no concern of yours and he's a terrorist. Hand him over."
"We never targeted innocents!" the man, Durand, shouted. "We only attacked what fundamentally opposed our ideals. You know this, Hans. Humanity has become too reliant on alien technology and is weak and decentralized because of it!"
"Assassinating select government officials still categorizes as terrorism." Lieutenant Hans shot back as he took a step forward and jabbed a finger in Durand's direction. "And let's not forget, you're organization affiliates with another of far less repute and similar goals."
"You've been among us for how long again? You know we have no connection with Sapient Sunrise," Durand claimed, his voice heavy with indignation. "They're nothing but savage xenophobes."
Lieutenant Hans grinned and shrugged his shoulders, "Well, that is what the good captain kept saying. Isn't it?" He turned to the Spartan standing nearby who'd kept silent since handing over the TACPAD, "Check him. If he's still breathing wake him up."
The Spartan nodded and moved over to the prone form of the man Hans had shot in the beginning. Questioning looks from both Liara and Durand prompted a response. "First two rounds were stunners," Hans explained. "The rest were real."
Kneeling over the older person, the Spartan administered something with a syringe. Seconds later the old man who'd appeared to be the overall leader of the group shot up to a sitting position with a gasp. He was then pulled mercilessly to his feet by the supersoldier.
The old man took in his suddenly changed surroundings. The loss of all but a few of his loyal followers and the betrayal by one of his supposed comrades-in-arms. He muttered one word in defeat, "ONI."
"Correct," Lieutenant Hans said without denial.
"It was Naval Intelligence that started this in the beginning," the old man accused. The administered drugs fully clearing away the fog of unconsciousness. "I saw the darkest secret held by the galaxy on a mission for ONI. We are unprepared for the nightmares in the void as we are. Strength, binding unity, and innovation must be returned to humanity for our own preservation." His sermon fell on predominantly deaf ears, with the exception of his last fellow and those who hailed from far away.
"Only time will tell, won't it?" Lieutenant Hans responded. "Captain James MacCraw, formerly UNSC Marine Corps. The Office of Naval Intelligence hereby places you under arrest for charges of acts of terrorism, murder, and sedition." His gaze shifted to the Spartan leader, "Search and secure the prisoners." He gestured to the captain and large human he'd beaten near to death, "Also, prep a fireteam to transport them to a secure location."
Hans returned to his conversation with the captain as he was frisked down. "Everything you wanted could have been achieved had you folded back in with the Assembly," he reasoned.
"No," Captain MacCraw claimed. "The Assembly is untested. Only the policies of the Unified Earth Government and a deregulated UNSC have shown what's necessary to hold the tide at bay."
"Again, only time will tell," Hans stated.
The Spartan leader handed the captain off to another of her team who began carting him away. Captain MacCraw, shouting backwards as he went, said, "There's one left you know! I was there when we lost it and it's in the wrong hands! If events keep playing out as they are, we're all gonna die! All of us!" The Spartan moving him shoved him violently and he quieted down.
Lieutenant Hans watched the captain move further away then looked to Liara. The Asari had not moved or said a thing during the whole tirade, just listened. "Not a lot to say, have you?" he questioned.
"There was more to hear and see," Liara said.
"Intelligence minded I see," Hans observed and looked down at the TACPAD he'd been given. "That explains a few things."
"What was he yelling about?" Liara demanded to know.
"Nothing that concerns you or me at this time," lieutenant Hans dodged. "Right now I'll be needing my friend back," he stated with a predatory smirk.
"No!" Durand shrieked and tried tried to squirm out of Liara's grip. She tightened her grip and pressed the pistol's barrel down harder to discourage that behavior. "I won't be going anywhere!"
"You know," Hans said thoughtfully, "you might be right." He looked to Liara, "Kill him or hand him over. I've got what I need either way." As if to accentuate his point, two Spartans appeared from the perimeter, collected, and carried off the unconscious insurgent named Sam.
A thousand thoughts swirled in Liara's mind. Which option was most beneficial? Both would doubtlessly lead to the same conclusion, but what about morality. Durand was a criminal, a terrorist even, but executing him where he stood went against every fiber of her being. Shooting him was off the table. But, if his statements were to be believed, handing him over to ONI would be just as damning. And, if her evaluation of Admiral Osman was accurate, strip him of his right to due process. Maybe there was another way.
How would those she was close to act? The crew of the Normandy would understand and support her regardless of her choice. Hackett would favor cooperation. He held their mission here above everything else. Shepard? Shepard would never unhesitantly condemn someone to certain death if he could help it. Not even scumbag terrorists. Durand might also provide a wealth of information that the mission sorely needed and he held little loyalty to the Assembly. That cinched her decision.
"Neither," Liara stated firmly. "He's coming with me."
"Oh?" Hans questioned, visibly confused. "I fail to see where you have that right."
"As representative and intelligence advisor for Ambassador Hackett, I'm apprehending mister Durand for conspiring to abduct official staff of the Species Alliance diplomatic mission to the Assembly," Liara said succinctly. "He'll be delivered to the mission consulate and held there pending a more in depth investigation. Afterwards, he may be returned to Assembly custody."
"Huh," Hans muttered. "No. I can't permit that."
Liara saw that coming, "My superiors and yours were in direct negotiations before all this happened. Are you willing to risk souring those negotiations over one person?" Her whole gamble rested on Lieutenant Hans not wanting to risk catching Admiral Osman's ire. Assuming of course: the Admiral's reputation was as ruthless as the intelligence broker Liara masqueraded as back home.
The lieutenant paused thinking long and hard. He speedily concluded the risk to his career was too great. "Fine, keep him for now. Also, I have something you might like here." He held the TACPAD a little higher and spouted off, "Orders from CINCONI Osman herself: complete current outstanding objectives; locate and secure Species Alliance personnel; return said personnel to diplomatic vessel SSV SR-2 Normandy." He glanced up from his orders, " Your consulate vessel out in Docking Hanger D24 right?"
"Yes." Liara had a lot to do once she got back. Namely convincing Hackett to nominate her representative and the Normandy a consulate.
"Excellent," Hans exclaimed, suddenly sounding cheerful, "I'll just be needing that firearm. It isn't yours and your friend will need to do the same."
He shifted to look at a large pile of loosely stacked crates against a nearby wall. "Ma'am, please hand over the rifle and walk out here."
There was a loud commotion from behind the crates and Tali stumble out brandishing a bulky looking rifle likely recovered in the same manner as Liara's pistol. The Quarian speedily moved to where Liara was and after her came a Spartan. The supersoldier likewise stumbled forward as sparks and mottes of lightning danced across his armor.
The Lieutenant looked shocked and reached a wavering hand towards his weapon. Liara beat him, though, and for the second time held him dead in her sights. Several more Spartans trained their weapons on her for that.
Lieutenant Hans caught hold of his senses soon enough and waived off the Spartans. "I figured your seeming incomprehension was a ploy," Hans said with a reaffirmed grin. "There was no one in the general's vehicle that appeared to be a translator."
"You old friends didn't notice. However, is that really important," Liara retorted.
"No," Hans admitted, "Put the guns on the floor and we'll get moving. Spartan!" he called without pause, "Post two fireteams here to police equipment and stragglers."
"Lieutenant," the Spartan leader replied and went about her tasks.
Liara finally relented and lowered the pistol to the floor. It was a small comfort anyway; not truly needed. Tali reluctantly followed suit as the Asari asked, "What did you do back there?"
"That Spartan mech, man, whatever, snuck up on me and reached for that rifle. I fired a broadband Overload in haste and fried half my own equipment," Tali answered half whispering.
"Keep that handy. We may need it in the future." Liara said, and then to the prisoner she held, "You. Don't think I can't put you down unarmed if I half to."
Durand didn't respond, but Hans called from the location he and a number of Spartans had suddenly moved to, "Whenever your ready miss...?" His attempts of politeness seemed genuine enough.
"Liara T'soni," she gestured towards Tali, "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy." Without further prompting the pair moved to join the ONI lieutenant, pushing along their dejected looking captive.
"Hmm, intriguing," Hans mumbled as he filed the names away. "Well, we gotta go this way to reach the fastest route to the docking bays," he pointed out a nearby door and hallway. "Shall we?"
Liara nodded in assent and the group of Normandy, ONI, and supersoldier personnel trekked off through a number of similarly designed but decidedly non-human passageways. No one spoke to each other, but they kept watch on eachother with darted glances.
Durand was quietest of all. His shuffling gait and low hung head spoke of defeat and possibly reflection. Then he started mumbling. And the mumbling slowly turn to words Liara could pick out from under his breath.
"May I stand unshaken. Amid, amidst the crash of the worlds?"
"He who drinks from the deep water, may he know the depths of the well."
"Oh, traveler what have you seen? Were there crossroads where you been?"
"I once was standing tall. Now I feel my back's against the wall."
"May I stand unshaken. amid, amidst the crash of the worlds?"
"What does that mean?" Liara questioned.
"It's a centuries old anthem against change and progress," Lieutenant Hans chimed in, cutting off Durand's reply. "Change and progress that has ensured our survival and advancement as a species," he continued with vigor. "Change and progress that the Terran Restorative Union and other groups would see reverted. It won't happen."
Durand kept silent, head hung low. "What's the issue?" Hans jabbed. "You were always the most outspoken of the bunch. Always quickest to defend and rationalize McCraw's antics. Why stay quiet now? Maybe it's because you always knew this was coming. Deep down you knew, somehow, the game was rigged from the start."
Liara took note of the verbal abuse but withheld any comments and the group continued their steady pace. Eventually the surrounding reverted to a more human aesthetic and Liara brought up a question that had begun to dig at her. "Lieutenant, why didn't you intervene in General Hasting's murder?"
The ONI officer hardly batted an eye or changed his expression when he answered, "In that moment I was to far away securing the perimeter. I was also under orders not to break cover until the right time."
"What of the rest of the convoy?" Liara continued, "Is the rest of the Council safe?" Inwardly she was more concerned about her crewmates and Hackett.
"Relief forces are still moving in last I was updated," Hans responded.
"Whats taking so long?" Liara's anxiety was starting to rise.
"It's chaos up there."
/
Fifteen minutes was simply too long in every respect and the rebels had seemingly begun to understand that. Hackett kept close watch on a countdown timer as the incoming fire began to slacken at the two minute mark. However, the sniper rifle operator kept firing rounds at an increasingly frantic rate.
There was nothing the team could have done. No weapon they had sported the range for this engagement. Jacob remained out for the count; Ashley, Vega, and the MP kept hunkered down; the admirals and the lawyer crammed up against the battered SUV and all they could do was wait. The spot was crowded, but it was sheltered. All around was a sea of abandoned vehicles turned to a no man's land.
Then the words were spoken by a soldier down the line, "Aircraft incoming! At our six!" Words everyone felt blessed to hear.
Hackett picked them out with ease. Four misshapen shapes that grew larger with each passing second until there was no denying what they were. Jet black colored aircraft with a long and lithe fuselage and a sloped canopy. Two pairs of wings sprouted out from the front and back, both with a downward bend in their design.
Lasky gave a relieved huff, "Wasp VTOLs," he stated. "It'll work out. I just wish they could've gotten here sooner." Hackett wholeheartedly agreed, though he kept his comments to himself.
As the Wasps entered a certain range they unleashed an octet of missiles that screamed across the highway and engulfed the occupied building in fire and overpressure. With the missile run finished, the Wasps came to a still hover just across the highway from the enemy positions and let loose with their autocannons. Spent brass visible rained as the tower's top five floors of polished glass, plastic, and concrete eroded to within an inch of its structural integrity under the cannon fire. A ninth explosion blossomed from the walls and body parts could be discerned falling amists the rubble after which silence, except for the crackle of rampaging flames, reigned. It was over.
The Normandy group and accompanying UNSC personnel all released a collective exhale and began taking stock. Hackett moved to Jacob Taylor still propped up against the divider wall and sheltered from enemy fire and started field assessing the downed biotic for outstanding injuries. Vega stood and admired the view of the burning tower. Ashley peered through the less damaged rear window to see the UNSC medic still alive within. Admiral Lasky and the lawyer Seth O'Gren stood and watched the smoking cityscape splayed out in every direction.
"Oh, man," Vega muttered through his breath, "That was intense. Just crazy." He spun around and looked up at the attack craft still hovering a short distance away. The wave Vega directed towards the pilots didn't elicit a visible response. "Is Jacob gonna be okay, sir?" he asked Admiral Hackett.
"He'll live," the admiral responded, "If the medic in there is still active get him out here."
"Sir," Vega said and tried the door to the SUV which didn't budge. "Jammed, huh. Hey MP, kept your cool through that whole ordeal. Real impressive man; mind helping me out?" Vega turned his head to see the MP's response only to see the near faceless soldier tap a button on his wrist.
The light blue shields gifted to the group by Admiral Lasky flared into existence and vanished with an audible pop. Vega, distracted, only felt the MP's fist lance into his less armored side and blunt metal rap the back of his head several times. The ferocity of the attack left the Alliance marine stunned and disoriented as he slid down the side of the SUV and collided face first with the pavement.
His brandished pistol now bloodied, the MP snapped it up and fired at Ashley as she rounded the back of the SUV. Her darker blue kinetic barriers absorbed two shots to the face that sent the second marine stumbling back for cover. Twitching the pistol mere inches to his right, the MP fired a shot that caught O'Gren in the upper torso as the lawyer took one step too far. His line of sight unobstructed, the pistol barked twice more with barely any movement and drilled Fleet Admiral Lasky through the chest with both rounds.
As the old officer crumpled, the MP's shields flared from impacts. Admiral Hackett, still kneeling near Jacob, held a Predator sidearm out and fired three shots in rapid succession. All struck true and the MP fled before either of them could inflict more damage.
Hackett, in an adrenaline induced craze and against better judgement, chased after the soldier as he ducked through a gap between convoy vehicles. Hackett followed as far as the end of that gap and stopped. The MP had vanished amidst the desolate highway of congealed smoke and metal.
Keeping the Predator about him, Hackett glanced up at the attack craft loitering in the air. They hadn't budged since demolishing the building and seemingly kept their attention glued to it.
Hackett would never have a chance to find out why for himself as as arm wrapped around his torso and brutally pulled him to the ground. His already dirtied blue uniform tore loudly as he hit the pavement and his own arms were mercilessly pressed into his back. Unyielding restraints were affixed to the admiral's wrists and only then was he flipped on his back and hauled to his feet.
His attacker was a UNSC marine by the symbols and colors of his armor. The marine forced Hackett to walk back down the highway with every movement wrecking the admiral's uniform a little more. Ashley was nearby having been wrestled more forcefully into restraints by a pair of marines as she cursed them out through the whole process. Marine medics had suddenly swarmed the scene of carnage and more marines could be seen picking their way up the highway. In that moment the black Wasps tilted their rotors and speed off.
The relief forces had arrived and with them fled Hackett's last remaining hope.
/
Base camp was an absolute ruin. Her loyal strike forces had been cut down to maybe a tenth of their original number; she had no care to keep an accurate number. The survivors were in a mad dash to gather what they could and run.
Zane entered the room where communication equipment had been hastily assembled for use and confronted the lone operator left to manage it. He gave a sloppy and unwelcome salute and said what he had to say.
"Ma'am, the Cade's left without us. They didn't give me an explanation for why."
Zane's anger increased exponentially with the news. "Who else knows?" she barked subduedly.
"Just me, Ma'am" he answered to Zane's delight. She lurched forward and wrapped both hands around his neck. He died quick; like all plain humans she'd killed. An adjoining closet was good enough to stash him away in.
Returning to the consoles, Zane flipped through feeds and channels until she found something that fulfilled her needs. A ship of unfamiliar design, sleek and beautiful. Doubtlessly a corporate yacht. Easy pickings.
She rejoined her fighters and gave them the news. The Cade was gone, destroyed, and all aboard were dead. They were all that remained but just one was needed to champion the cause and they still had a way out.
"Now we take Hanger D24!" she shouted with vigor to resounding cheers.
/
Joker's anxiety had peaked a long time ago and wouldn't for the life of him go down. All communication outside the hanger had ceased. Dock control, Admiral Hackett, even emergency services, no one was answering. And knowing the reason why was not helping.
"Please tell me you've found something, EDI?" he implored. "Feels like it's been hours."
The robotic body in the copilot seat blinked for the first time in ages. "I have not been able to find much more than I have already told you." Her head tilted oddly, "The station's AI network is completely offline. Numerous firewalls protecting unrestricted information caches are also absent."
"How's that not important? It sounds dangerous." Joker said.
"It does not further my search for Admiral Hackett," EDI retorted. "Without station locationing services or access to surveillance systems my chances of finding the away parties electronically are infinitesimal."
Joker pushed himself up and stood at the viewport. "Maybe we should send out search parties," he sardonically stated while glaring at the mostly empty hanger.
"I recommend against that," EDI said.
"Sure," Joker answered. He was suddenly transfixed on a point at the far end of the hanger where a door he'd never seen used previously slid open. A large number of strangers filtered through the opening, arranged themselves into a loose horizontal formation, and began to ominously stalk across the hanger.
Joker's maxed anxiety skyrocketed into trepidation as he asked, "Who's manning the barricade at the loading ramp?"
"Corporal Westmoreland's fireteam," EDI answered, undoubtedly aware of what was transpiring. "I'll send Jack and her students to reinforce."
"Good idea," Joker applauded as he dropped back down into his seat and closed the viewport's blast shielding.
/
As it was, Jack was more than happy to suit up. Losing all sense of what was happening beyond the docking bay had been infuriating. Learning from EDI that the station was in chaos, her friends were stranded out there, and there was hardly a goddamn thing she could do about it; that pissed her off.
Now a bunch of dipshit punks had the nerve to stomp up to the Normandy like a outlaw gang in a cheesy western vid eyeing up a piece of real estate. Well, Jack's occupation as a teacher meant she was giddy with anticipation at the prospect of outlining her opinions on property rights.
The elevator opened and she tore across the hanger to the loading ramp. All her kids had beaten her there. A good thing; Jack wouldn't be chewing anyone out today. Twelve biotics, not including her. Most were survivors of the Jon Grissom Academy that had been targeted for its biotic academics during the War and evacuated by herself and the late Commander Shepard. Even to this day, Jack felt she owed the man. Owed him several regardless of his passing. So she'd be damned if she let a single undeserving asshole set foot on his prized starship.
At the bottom of the ramp the Alliance marine fireteam parted to allow a number of orange vested dock workers aboard. Locals, Jack figured immediately, hunting for safety in what was about to be a combat zone.
One was unfortunately just slow enough. His head exploded into a chunky red mist, spraying a large section of the ramp. The massive bullet responsible embedded itself into one of the crates in the barricade and shoved it back an inch. The marine covering behind the crate leaned backwards but did not stumble.
A number of her kids winced at the occurrence. Mainly the newer ones who'd filtered in after the War. A support unit they may have been; they'd all been through the wringer.
It was time. "I'm on point. Form your squads behind me," she called. Her kids did as instructed with no further prompting. In single file lines behind her; First squad was to her left, Second on the right.
"Check your guns but focus on biotics; keep your skills about you; and follow me," Jack outlined and walked down the ramp. The marines parted a second time to let the biotics through. Jack said nothing to them. They knew what to do with anything that got past her kids.
Now in the open expanse of the docking bay, Jack gauged her surroundings with a trained eye. All flat terrain with no significant cover for the opposing force. A cake walk for any number of biotics who knew what they were doing.
Up ahead; the enemy. Spread out like a firing line and walking lazily forward, the arrogant shits. There were a lot of them, but Jack couldn't be bothered to take an accurate count. The person taking up the center of the enemy's formation held Jack's attention a little longer.
This woman was tall. Nearly a head taller than all the guys around her and had a rifle nearly as long as she was high slung horizontally across her shoulders. Jack detested her in an instant.
Far to the right, close to the wall, the one and only significant breakup in the playing field. A cluster of shipping containers neatly arranged into rows and columns and stacked up to three high closer to the wall. A garrisionable position that could provide an advantage to whoever held it. It would be hers.
"Bellarmine! Take your squad and lock down those crates" Jack ordered. Both Bellarmines', Reiley and Seanne, nodded and took off with their four compatriots. As twins both were nearly identical in terms of biotic power. However, rumor had it they could communicate telepathically with their biotics. Jack couldn't truly attest to that, but she knew talking to one was as good as talking to both. So they were both simply Bellarmine.
As if on cue half the opposing force split away and beelined it for the crates. The big bitch was thinking along the same lines as Jack. A woman after her own heart. Bellarmine was in for one hell of head one, but Jack was confident they'd hold.
The remainder of the two forces continued to stalk towards each other. Like grand armies of Earth's 18th century, waiting for one another to enter range or break formation.
Jason Prangley, First Squad's leader and Jack's strongest and most seasoned biotic came up beside her. She placed a tattooed hand on his shoulder and said, "Focus on the lackeys. Big bitch in blue is mine."
Jason nodded, dropped a step back, and began relaying a plan of attack to his team. Jack overheard much of it and approved, but said nothing. Like any good teacher knew: feedback was for after the test. Sink or swim, it was time for the deep end.
A cataclysm of noise, gunfire, and screams sounded off from the crates on the right. That was Jack's cue. Sheathed in blue light the moment she thought about it, Jack biotically Charged the remaining distance to her target.
Seconds, it took seconds to cross the gap. Which only solidified the shock of her target sidestepping her attack like a leisurely thrown beachball. Jack spun and skidded to stop leaving black streaks along the metal ground. Wrecking her second favorite pair of boots.
She didn't get long to dwell on that. Her kids crashed into the enemy like a blue crescendo. What looked like thirty merc standard wimps against six trained biotics. Piss poor odds for the weak fucks.
The giant rifle Big Bitch cradled swung around until its crosshairs were solely focused on Jack. She had an idea of what that rifle was capable of and answered with a fully powered Barrier as she resumed a dead sprint towards her quarry. Jack figured she had to get in close.
The first shot deflected off the Barrier and Jack seemed to feel every newton. The second shot did likewise; the third shot began to visibly weaken her barrier; by the fourth shot Jack was close enough.
Dropping the Barrier, Jack knocked the rifle's barrel away as it discharged. The head splitting noise only slightly fazed her. Jack clenched her fist and brought it up for an underhanded strike. Big Bitch did the surprising thing and dropped her rifle, catching Jack's fist in one of her now free hands. Jack launched a straight on strike with remaining fist and it too was caught.
Both stood there immobilised for an extended moment. Both studied each other intensely as in that instant they appeared to be evenly matched for strength.
"A fellow experiment," Big Bitch said tauntingly between quick breaths, "Tell me: ONI or corporate?"
"I'm my own brand of crazy, Big Bitch," Jack shot back.
The tall woman's eyes went livid and with a sudden gust of strength Jack felt herself start to bend over backwards. Now or never. Pooling biotic energy in her fists, Jack let it explode out breaking Big Bitch's grip. Thinking quick, Jack lashed her opponent with a biotic Slam sending her up and right back down again with serious velocity. The impact didn't stun her for long as her leg shot out and swept away Jack's who landed hard on her face.
Launching to her feet Big Bitch viciously kicked Jack's side and back causing the biotic to violently exhale and her spine to crackle. She dropped a knee into the middle of Jack's back and looped an arm around her neck giving everything to squeeze Jack's life away.
Jack desperately tried to focus for an attack or pull the woman's arm away but without air and circulation it proved impossible. Spots and flashes danced before her eyes as pain flared through her entire body and sapped her strength. With an unwanted realization: the end seemed near.
An unguided biotic projectile lanced overhead distracting the tall woman from her work. Jack put everything she had left in seeing what caused this new development. It was Jenkins. The newest and least experienced of Prangley's First Squad, with biotic energy crackling in both hands, was charging the location of the two brawlers.
The tall woman's left hand came away from the back of Jack's head relieving some of the pressure and allowing Jack to suck in a raspy breath. Not enough to fight back and when that left hand returned to view holding a serrated edged knife Jack saw instantly what was coming.
She screamed as loud as her damaged and compressed larynx would permit. Why was he alone? Who let him strike out on his own? Why wasn't he using any goddamn powers?
Jack knew why. She was in the line of fire. She'd be just as affected and just as likely to die as the enemy was if Jenkins used anything powerful.
The tall woman lurched forward when the kid got close enough. Spun around his wild swings all the while carving a line across his crest and up his arm. When she got behind him she lunged in and jammed the knife up to the hilt in the kid's back just above and left of center. She pulled the knife out as Jenkins fell to his knees. His expression a mixture of shock and pain.
As Jenkins collapsed to the deck his biotics winking out, the tall woman returned her deranged grin to Jack who in that moment could only quiver. Her emotions were at a boiling point. It was like that day on Pragia. Tearing her way through the torture, the pain, and the trauma but there was no bright light ahead of her this time. She'd always feared one day she'd lose a student. Never could she have imagined how.
Something out of Jack's view caught the tall woman's attention. Her expression changed from psychopathic glee to determination with a hint of disappointment and she ran from Jack's view. The last thing she discerned before falling unconscious was the face of Liara T'soni calling for medics and cold gauntleted hands hoisting her off the ground.
/
Captain William Bradshaw rhythmically tapped at the edge of his holotable. Willing answers to spring forth to the beat of the tune only he could hear.
There had been nothing since the blast. Sensors had picked up the detonation of a nuclear device at the apex of Iota's dome structure. All com frequencies went silent afterwards. Any attempt to approach the station had been met with local warships waiving them off. Something serious was going down and Bradshaw was being shut out and left to wait. For the last few weeks it felt like all Captain Bradshaw and the Shanghai did was wait. It was getting exhausting.
The lieutenant manning sensors again spun his chair around with something to say. "Captain, a ship just departed from Iota's docking bays." This was the first ship they'd seen depart since the blackout started.
"Normandy?" Bradshaw questioned.
"Negative," the lieutenant answered. "Profile matches local freighter types."
"I have a transmission," communications called out. "It's a call to action broadcasting on several open channels."
"Patch it through," Bradshaw ordered.
"Attention! Attention! Attention! This is UNSC Iota COM Array Alpha. Station COMMs compromised. Departing freighter classification TLF Jack Cade is a hostile vessel on an outbound vector. Repeat, TLF Jack Cade is a hostile outbound vessel. To any receiving warships: immediate interdiction required. Kill or capture authorized. Authorization Tango-Lima-Niner-Eight-Six-Six-Niner-Zero."
"Any responses?" Bradshaw asked.
"UNSC Polaris has responded affirmative,"the communications officer replied.
Well that was it then. There was no reason for the Shanghai to get involved. "Captain," sensors called, "the Polaris has made no move to interdict the outbound freighter. They're holding position fifteen thousand clicks out."
Huh, time to roll the dice then. "Put us on an interdiction course with that freighter," Captain Bradshaw ordered. "Warm up the GUARDIANs and get me sensor readings on the holotable. Respond affirmative to that broadcast."
The bridge scrambled to action and the cruiser got underway. General Quarters was sounded and did not let up. The lieutenant manning communications issued their response, "COM Array Alpha, SSV Shanghai on approach. Interdiction imminent."
"Repeat your last. Sounded like you said SSV," COM Array Alpha responded, "What classification is that?" The communications officer didn't respond. There were other matters that needed to be attended to.
Captain Bradshaw stared at a crude layout of the freighter's profile displayed on the holotable. There was a narrowing in the structure where the main body connected to the engines. A weak point he could exploit with the lasers.
"Has there been any contact with the freighter?" Bradshaw questioned communications which replied negative.
The Captain highlighted the weak point and said to weapons, "Fire on this point when we enter range." Scans and VI analysis showed separating the engines at this point was the best way to disable the freighter with minimal expenditure of munitions.
As the Shanghai screamed across space towards its target the freighter lept in speed to outrun its unfamiliar pursuer. The gesture was in vain though.
"Four hundred clicks to target and closing. Ready for laser run." the weapons officer announced.
Shanghai streaked passed the Jack Cade and unleashed a full salvo from her infrared laser batteries. With hull plating too warped to maintain structural stability and far too many electrical systems fried, the freighter's engines fell silent. The Jack Cade's run came to an end as the Shanghai afixed tethers and pulled it to a stop.
Captain Bradshaw tapped out a tune on the holotable as the din of the bridge quieted with a job well done. Only the communications officer had more to say and what she was hearing painted trepidation across her features. "Captain, UNSC Polaris just issued a stand down order. They mean to board us, sir."
The bridge crew fell somber with the news. Captain Bradshaw restrained his hand before his tapping became frantic. He brought up a holoscreen from the table and began flipping through camera feeds until he found one that fit his needs. The teardrop shape of Iota Station perfectly silhouetted against the sunny side of the planet he'd learned was called Madrigal.
It was a gorgeous image. One for the scrapbook. It also accentuated the facts he knew and feared would rear their unfortunate heads. Strangers in a strange land where rarely welcome.
"What in the name of God have we walked into?" he whispered to himself. To the crew, he gave the order, "Stand the ship down."
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A/N: The situation goes from bad to worse right into untenable. How can the crew recover? What choices will they make? And will their objectives change?
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The release of this chapter marks a fairly major revision in the story. A group of characters introduced early on has removed. As the narrative evolved they proved to be unnecessary and have been removed from their previous position. This is not a complete rewrite but a revisit to chapters 3, 8, and 9 will most likely clear up any lingering questions. Happy Holidays to all.
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1/11/19: The first version of Liara's interaction with the ONI Lieutenant was in fact rushed and not properly proofread. That's on me. Everyone who noted that the UNSC wouldn't permit someone like Durand to fall into the hands of aliens are right. But the UNSC isn't making that decision. It's one self-centered officer who's been embedded with Durand's group for awhile and likely knows what Durand knows and then some. ONI also wouldn't care much for the citizen rights of terrorists but neither would they permit a serious information leak to persist.
Two other spots of contention were James MacCraw the Union commander and the way a sniper rifle bullet killed an MP. Shots to the head with a Halo sniper rifle have always been a one-shot kill regardless of shield strength. Even though I only described the effect it had one body part, a shot of that caliber would've jellied his entire upper torso. James MacCraw on the other hand is a Canon character and the answers to how he knows what he knows can be found mostly in his story.
Hopefully, I've rectified the major issues. If there are any more, review or PM me and I'll see what I can do.