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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 6, 2011 9:00:08 GMT 1
Author's note: This is my original novel-in-the-works, any clash with names or places is purely coincidental as I began the framework for this about 4-5 years ago when I was in high school. Since it is designed to be a full length book, it is written as 'better-than-canon', so things such as class restrictions etc. aren't applied in it. Music has also been added to enhance your reading experience, mostly ambient / liquid Drum and Bass. If the repetitive nature bothers you, keep it low and enjoy it, and if you prefer not listening to anything it is fine all the same:) Thanks for reading, each and every one of you, and feel to leave feedback on my review thread at any time. Also, please take a look at my buddy's story as well- Eden Code. Highly recommended. We have a synchronized story arc that may seem like independent entities at first, but slowly coalesce into something greater than just our own. A Cerberus agent wakes up on a space station, only to realize his life is in serious danger. With only a pistol and a stranger he has to trust to survive, what could possibly go wrong? ________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part I: Recrudescence When they arrived, they darkened the sky of every world we had ever known. Purely evil beings of flesh and steel, our burning cities making them glow amber as they hover over our civilization, burning, killing. Their motives solely revolving around organic destruction; they are unstoppable. Toxic seas mire in nuclear winters while our entire culture, heritage, forthcomings and shortcomings bleed into them from crumbling ruins of extinguished life. Millions die in mere days, and for many days after, over decades. A systematic obliteration of an entire galaxy. It took but minutes to realize there was only one back door- the gateway to the holy land, Paradise. The product of thousands of generations, only there could the machinations be halted. And so the Exalted Ones and the Chosen embarked on an exodus in to the fabled holy ground, where they would end the galaxy-wide genocide with the ultimate super weapon. Knowing it was likely a one way trip, they were our heroes, the steadfast paragons of our disintegrated culture, our saviors from the unspeakable. But years pass, entire star systems go dark, and the ones that wipe their coordinate and star-chart data slowly starve to death. Many more years pass, despair, the final Dark Age of our kind before our extinction. Those of us who survive may only hope that it ends faster than it began. Still, we call out to them, we call- but we call to the sky, to the distant stars. There is only darkness and the empty cry of the night wind to answer. -An est. 89 million year old writing tablet, recovered by an asari recon team, rough translation, 1765 AD. Prologue: The Painter, The Canvas, The Muse <0900 Hours, somewhere above the garden world Callidora, 2177> It was like being born a second time, free from memories and ideas, people and places, and all the bonds that shackle us to ourselves. A kaleidoscope of the senses that overwhelms and humbles from the outset, could it be at last, I was facing the grit of reality for the first time all over again? Could it be that I was alive? * * * * I wake to the steady hum of faraway engines vibrating through many floors, and all around me there is a lullaby of beeps- frantic but soothing, the chirping sounds echo off corners I cannot see. Within a room of darkness, the solemnity is given a cozy lambency by mounted bright panels and a broad window lets starlight pour in. A heavy cloudiness painfully centers itself in my mind. Before trying to even move, I fall back to meditative thought. Staring out at the star-speckled void of outer space through the ceiling skylight, I find myself squinting in ironic realization. I can't think of anything. My name. Where I'm from. What happened before this- all bygone and cast aside. Every cherished memory I could have ever held close to me, not there anymore. It was as if I was just a living, breathing shell with no identity- no history. And who does that make me? I search and search, clawing my way through the corners of my mind. To the deep recesses where- I felt- many people should not even begin to see... but there is nothing. Family? Friends? I knew not of my parents or theirs. Would I ever? Do they want me to live like that.. and who would even- there were too many questions, all tempting to devour me at once. I avoid panic by retreating into another fruitless meditation.. but all that remains is an unexplainable emptiness and the painful digging sensation of a mind with nothing to yearn for. Despite the malcontented start, I begin to hone in on single thoughts, flashes of vision, vivid encounters that come and go quicker than the last. When there was nothing, all that remained was a deep ache that settles itself in my gut, but it feels like it came from truly within. The.. soul? It felt like it may be, but that's just stupid. I knew pieces of things up until a certain point, a long time ago. Something big happened, something deeply tragic, and it became this. Always the bed, waking up. Insistent shining of needles, bright lights and incessant poking. That was definitely the most annoying part… and at the end of it all, they put on the mask and it's over. Before any of that, there are only pictures. Things. Places. Everything is out of order- meaningless. As time transgressed, my flash memory sharpens, and that's when I think back to the force that had crept into my dreams. Staying as calm as possible during the momentary lapse of reason, I remember a disturbance rippling through the confines of space, wherever this place could possibly be.. it felt as if it were in danger. Something was coming. And so I try to move. Heavily reinforced restraints hold my legs and hands in two different places, effectively bolting me down to the bed- but before I even had time to get pissed off, a synthesized voice fills the room. "Aberon Cell subject one three zero six nine A dash seventy-seven 'Kal' noted as awake. Administering sedative." During this, a robotic claw came from what seems to be a central command unit that stretches far above and all around me. It produces a syringe; another bizarre and spiny arm stretches forth, its narrow and precise fingers turning my arm over. The slight sting that resulted isn't what caused my newfound incredulity. I mentally reach out for powers that for some reason I know I have, but simply trying incites the metal band running across my forehead and sends a shock through my entire body. From then on I couldn't feel anything, save for a numb, tingling sensation that numbed me long enough for the sedative to kick in. Still having control of my head and neck, I looked around the room for a moment but there was nothing of use. Fatigue suddenly wraps me in and all I can do is rest my eyes on the wide glass window at the far ahead of me. I follow a little gray speck for a moment, focusing in and out, it is unnatural, a ship maybe. The drug was quickly slowing my reaction time, but as I fought it, I find the will to speak through blinding numbness. "St-stop," is all I can manage. I relax, growing more and more comfortable. "Please calm down, Mr. Vash Chambers. You are not ready to be awake. Sleep." It came from nowhere, as if whoever it was were a part of the room. "And who are, you..." "I am Artificial Intelligence Typhus, AI of the Qunsari space station of research and development. I handle the ship’s external functions, pressure systems, weapons and diagnostics while my counterpart Mia handles critical assets. Right now it's just you and me. It's a pleasure to actually meet you, Mr. Vash Chambers." "But- ah... where is this place? Who are you people.." "You do not need to know that right now. You took extensive trauma to your head and entire body- an apparent fact that I am sure you know of. You are a valued asset to our organization, and should continue your resting cycle for the next three months, that is your safest course of recovery." I laughed for a moment, complacent inside a drug-induced haze. "What, you don't hand out brochures anymore? Get me out of this damn bed!" "Mr. Vash Chambers, that is not an outcome I can predict as cause worthy. Your brain must be left resting in order for you to stabilize. You are very important to not only us, but your entire race as a whole. You are an apex of human power." I began to dip in and out of consciousness. Power. I could feel an untapped reservoir of something that subtly ebbs and flows through my body, a warm but soft ripple under my skin. I open myself to it again. Massive shocks wrack my skull with a Zzzt! I yelp and wince in contemptuous rage. With all my reserved strength through over- at least- a year knocked cold, I fight to break the restraints. "Attempting to use biotic powers will activate the neural telekinetic stigma on your head. It would be most wise to refrain from doing so until your full recovery." "Get me.. out.. you-" "I am sorry. I cannot comply with your request. You should sleep, Mr. Chambers." My eyes grow heavy, but still I try to fight the drugs. "Unhh.. if I get out of here... then I'll show you. I might just swing by and flash your core." The AI laughs, a very disconcerting thing. "Very well. But if I get out, well. Heh, forget I said that." The room ominously seems to grow a shade darker. At last, too weary not to sever the link with reality or resist the invisible talking robot with a brain, I open up to the arms of a deep sleep. But as this happens, I could not help but feel at ease with the loss of control- as it brought me a sense of well-being and something like.. like happiness.. something which I seem to not have felt in ages. My last conscious thought fleets into the next ethereal realm. But while I slip into a hazy dreamscape, I feel a second presence in the room, yet not the nonexistent life signs of a theoretically dead AI. ...Someone else... Beams of light penetrate the ensuing darkness.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 6, 2011 20:10:25 GMT 1
Someone else.* * * * ***(these are the music links, enjoy the vibes!) A blindingly bright blur raced through the hushed landscape of some wintry canyon, refracting the light's rays in golden, sunny arcs. A chromatic blue sky stood behind this and the howling gorge, with not a single cloud marring its marvelous azure cast save for a picturesque mountain range on the distant horizon, jutting forth like spiny fingers reaching for the heavens. Cold air currents cut through the sunbathed warmth of the canyon with the intensity of a million steel blades, but still, we begin our ascent to finally pass the summit of the hill. Returning my attention to climbing the highlands that lay stretched before us, I notice the girl right ahead of me, the only other person. Even from behind, a radiance spills from her that dulls the sparkling snow drifts we wade through, her brown hair spilling across and down her shoulders into a cascade of different accents and highlights. She moved with such a graceful adroitness.. an unexplainable air of familiarity that leads me to believe that from somewhere, sometime long ago, I knew her. But every time I try thinking about it there's that cloudy emptiness and that all too familiar aching, that yearning for lost knowledge. I study the back of her, as if answers would just reveal themselves to me. The girl sported some kind of light armor, polished snow-white, with a raised collar ridge flanked by flaring shoulder plates all overtop a skin-tight mesh alloy, fitting her curves like a glove. A sniper rifle subtly trimmed with pink- and considerably taller than her- was sheathed along the small of her back. Who is she? As we climbed the lengthy hillside covered in feet of powdery snow, more and more questions popped into my mind. What could I possibly even be dreaming about... but as they clouded my thoughts, I began losing control of the dream, realizing I must focus to seek out where this could be going. Just as I clear my mind of any distractions, a booming shriek resounds across the landscape from far behind us off the frozen canyon walls, shattering the melodic muffle of stepping through fresh snow. Assuming it's just some wild incantation of my sleeping brain, I ignore it and keep going, but the girl- about four or five feet away- stops and turns around to see what is happening. Light flashed across all the angles of her figure and her face, the latter I noticed first, caught dead in my tracks. She's rendered in a perfect light, like a painting of a flawless angel with feathery wings folded beneath her sun-rimmed armor. Her almond shaped eyes catch the sun's rays and dazzle an unnatural brilliance, but it is so pure and passionate. Emerald green pools that grip me bare with their audacity, holding so much life, brimming with unadulterated passion and longevity. Looking into them I feel moved by the girl's innocence if only to take a moment to soak in her esoteric beauty. Her slender and sculpted features lead down her dark caramel skin to a set of full lips that open to speak, but say nothing, she simply smiles when she sees me studying her. There was only one word in the world of reality that applies here. . . Beautiful. "Hmmm.." the girl says thoughtfully, gaze intent on something far behind me, the corners of her lips still curved slightly upward. I turn around and stare out at the canyon once again, now from much higher, but nothing can be seen. "We should get moving, mm?" Her voice rings with a hint of subtle foreign charm despite growing just a touch more serious. There was an edge to her too; tactful, responsive- she’s fully alert to her surroundings. I try to say something back, but my movements felt blurry, sluggish, and my mouth refused to work, so I settle with a nod and continue up the hill. Halfway to the top, she holds her arm up at a ninety degree angle hand and closes it into a fist. Turning herself towards me with her silky hair whipping at her face, she half-whispers for me to stay put. "Watch my back, will ya?" She smiles and vanished from sight in a static blur, the howling canyon wind sending a dusting of snow up the hill, wrapping around her invisible silhouette. Her footprints in the snow quickly dart up the hill as I turned around and intently watch the horizon, but the snow at my ankles anchors me in place like cement. My head traps itself in cloudiness, and again I struggle to keep focus, so I stare out at the sprawling mountain range, trained on the snowy peaks that scrape the sky. A moment flew by so quickly that it is questionable whether or not it even happened. Turning back around, the girl materializes at the top, flicking her hair and catching every glint of sun even from hundreds of feet away. She surveys the area through her scope, making wide sweeps with her rifle over whatever chasm awaits us. There was a certain feeling of normalcy to this, like it's happened a hundred times over- and as nostalgia starts grabbing at my stomach, this feeling is only consolidated. This is a dream. Nothing's happening. But there was no shaking it. Eyeing the vast landscape once again, I ran my fingers along the metallic pistol holstered at my side- trying to forget- to erase the dull ache that seemed to proliferate even in this sleepy world. She waves at me, her hand making graceful motions through the air, and so I followed. A gaping fault line with a hundred-meter span, hundreds of feet deep, stretched endlessly in both directions. The dip-slip was lined with craggy rocks jutting downwards to an impressive drop, and far below lay a river that seemed to have steam rising off it in thick wisps of vapor. The girl turned to me and smiled, "C’mon, this'll be fun!" Noticing my apparent confusion as to what she said, her face scrunched quizzically, head gently bobbed to one side. I look back at the river. That shit looks hot. I was only thinking it, but she giggles for a second. "It's a toasty hundred and four degrees down there, and real deep.. oh no- did you fall asleep during the briefing again? Vash!" She said, playfully scolding. It was with her sunny disposition that made everything seem memorable, almost exciting. "Well that means it's your turn to go first!" I try moving my legs for a moment, but they feel completely transparent, immobilized in quicksand without enough circulation. My vision darkens around the edges. Focus. "You're no fun today, it's like you're not even here!" she sighed, "Harmin pinned you as a daydreamer since the first day of Jump Zero, why do I even bother.." Her almost genuine tone of exasperation was undermined by an enigmatic smile, sun setting behind her. She backs up from the edge. "The universe is a cruel place, but you can always dream..." She closed her eyes, arms outstretched. Rather than finishing, she runs and jumps meters into the air out towards the chasm, arching into a swan dive as smooth as water and vanishing from sight. Finally regaining focus and fine motor control, I stand at the very edge of the fault line, feeling the bitter whip of winter wind across my face. It felt quieter, colder without her. I jump. Flipping twice until I regain balance, I drop like a bullet towards the river. Angling myself downwards, I reach my arms out just above my head and smash into the water with the ecstasy of flight that doesn't stop- persisting through the water as if the substance in itself no longer meant anything. The water fades to black, into complete darkness. I'm still falling...* * * *
Faint little popping sounds. Not the kind like tiny fireworks, but like faded bursts of deep rolling thunder. Many at once followed by one-second gaps, with smaller "puffs" in between. As it grows louder and sharper, I can feel the thrill of flight quickly and intensely fill me with deep elation; the tranquility of flying calmed me to the fullest. Wind, not water, has surrounded me, the warm air currents jerking my limbs around as they will. Slowly, I eased my eyes open. Without even realizing it, I am falling through the clouds.. spans of endless white with sudden flashes of blue sky. Other silhouetted figures are falling all around me. Down. Down. I break the last layer of cloud- a sensory overload of lights, colors, shapes.. what lay before me defied words. A well-preserved ancient city lit up in battle lays sprawled across the continent, untouched aqueducts branching off through lakes and large rivers. Temperate forests flourished beyond the fully developed city and its walls. Far, far below me, a rocky coastline wove its way in both directions as far as the eye could see, cyan waters beating down in foamy peaks. A massive ship of unknown origin looms into view from below. It was exceedingly ugly, a black carrier vessel very haphazardly made with a thousand tiny yellow slits that mark the battle stations of some bizarre alien race. Soon after, explosions wrack the sky and for a second it seems like it could shatter into a million pieces, intense BANGs leaving thick trails of black smoke in every direction. It's an all-out war. Dozens of other ships materialize out of nowhere near my eye horizon. Maintaining my balance I spin around; another cluster of ships- and they look different. Looking around for comfort, I could make out seven or eight other people at the same altitude, trying to keep their bearing as well. Nothing's happening. But it was full in color with no distortion at all, and felt oh so real. My entire body rattles with the ferocity of the wind's friction. Down. Under a darkening sky, another ship passes over us. We were now effectively in the kill zone of AA fire. Tracer beams and lasers light up from all over the city, firing out at us and everything in sight. Vibrant primary colors whiz by, red streaks slice the sky… this is such a fuck fest. I hope it isn't one of those things where you feel everything and die painfully slow; I'd like my head back first. Off to the left, a ship is lasered in half, its awe-inspiring explosion sending a shockwave that blows its debris in every direction. The battle grew bigger, bigger. Even smaller dog-fighters are deployed, buzzing around like bees. Chaos. And the ground is coming at us faster than ever, an infinite feeling of butterflies surges upward, back down, up. A ten thousand foot free-fall. It seemed like I would land somewhere on the very outskirts of the southernmost part of the city, near the coastline. Possessing strongly alien-influenced architecture, the arching skyscrapers and arcologies rise from the ruins. Some were half-destroyed yet remained imposing figures, looming above the mystified city as infinitely watchful guardians. Sporadic bursts of light flicker on every block, ships dot the sky in every direction. I pass through the wake of an intense explosion, reflecting the twisted metal remains of a starship with invisible shielding that shimmers on impact. Momentum slowed only for a brief second- I break through the debris field with a couple thousand feet left in the descent. I draw a deep breath and continue to blink away tears that cloud my vision, steering myself the best I can- but just as I regain focus, a shadow obscures the entire downtown portion of the city ruins. You've got to be kidding.. Lurching forward out of my peripherals somewhere only hundreds of feet below me, a monolith-in-stature vessel creeps into view. Polished, elongated cannons jut out of every side of the ship, almost fully charged to rain down on the ruins. I was dropping like dead weight in full armor, and I was heading right towards the ship. Down. Instinctively, I stretch my legs out behind me and aim towards where the city would be. Pressing a transparent button on my right gauntlet, two pairs of previously-unknown tiny rocket thrusters fold from the sides of my plated boots and ignite, slowly moving me forward. Red and blue flame spews from my soles, but as I pick up momentum and move northbound; it wasn't enough. Never, never airjump without a plan B. Fucking this up could end the dream. I clear my head for something impromptu, in which the outcome I could never fully predict, I just did it. I tapped the button again, disabling the thrusters. Fighting the wind's drag, I swing my legs back down with hands reaching out on both sides for core support. Falling fast and with the ship being well over halfway passed by now, there was a flicker of hope that this creepy mothership thing wouldn't completely shit on my trajectory. If I land in the ocean or something, I will kill everything on that ship- as if in response to my thoughts, I feel a markedly heavy object suddenly pressing into my back. I run my fingers along the cylindrical device, and something told me that this was a blessing. I unsling the launcher and get a feel for it, grinning. Some kind of laser guidance weapon, it was long and incredibly bulky, a pale green patched with black and the letters AIL branded in red along the inward side. I hefted it onto my shoulder and disengaged the security lock, reengaging my thrusters. Aiming right at the ship that took up my view in its entirety about two-hundred feet down, threatening to swallow me whole, I hold down the trigger. The weapon makes a high pitched humming sound as it took a second to prime. Time to switch it up. Zooooooooosh! A red beam fires, throwing my body off-balance in the air. Keeping the trigger held down to the grip, the laser carves its way through the hull like a hot knife through butter, blowing through the surface and going deep into the ship. Only a hundred feet away, I sear an oval into the alien exterior. Another red beam joins mine, and the large hole becomes a massive exploding gap. I fall through that burning hole, holding the trigger all the while, explosions penetrating the hull and blowing through every floor. I turn off the rockets. Keep up with the explosions, but not so fast that you break your legs. Finally in the grasp of the ship's gravity-well, I fall down into the recesses of the cruiser, dimly lit blue corridors flashing by, smoke, starkly different colored sections of the colossal vessel. Steam blows in my face, odd tasting fluids, even water.. but then- having gone appreciably far into the alien ship, a big explosion from below hurls debris in my direction. Looks like this is it... Kinetic barriers take the brunt. After a few seconds though, they flicker and die, leaving me completely exposed. I cover my face with my free hand. A huge object whacks into me. I fall. Dazed body wracked with impact, my vision goes completely dark- but there is a distant light somewhere, cleansing, indomitable. A pinpoint of flickering vitality in a pit of certain danger. As my feelings grow more detached and misplaced, I am left with this feeling of discomfort, feeling like I should defend myself. * * * * Light. It was the first thing I noticed, but much brighter than before, full of warmth and comfort. Laying on what felt like sand, the melodic whoosh of waves crashing down tempted me back into the abyss. My eyes squint open and blinding daytime light pours in. I cringe with despondence. Eyes closed, caught in a summery daze, I try to move around but I'm paralyzed- images of being on a table in a dark room flick across my mind. My hand brushes on fine sand that's warm to the touch. With nothing to empower me, I can feel the emptiness creep back into my stomach, the block of nothing embedded in my mind. Focus.This time, it didn't work. Vash. The voice of an eerily familiar girl resounds in front of me. ...What the?Wake up, Vash.. A pleasant ocean breeze kisses my face, its piney sweet smell satiating my senses, instilling me with needed vigor. Mustering every last trace of energy, I open my eyes again, letting them adjust for a moment. The silhouette of a girl stands over me engulfed in a shining aura from the bright sun. Her hair softly sways with the wind. Palm trees rustle in the gentle gusts. This place feels like something that was far outside of my comprehension. Through my skewed vision there looks like there's something high above her- not the ship, not any ship, but before I can regain focus.. it all goes black for the last time. Vash.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 6, 2011 20:32:03 GMT 1
Chapter I: Anagennisi"... Chambers. Welcome back." Consciousness drips back into me. I look around, the monotone metallic gray of the sloped walls look back. The place I've been for years. The lights are on, and those bright screens are now flowing with words and numbers. Very quickly the cushioned table I lay on becomes but a crumbling false security; always has been... but now there's something that keeps telling me to leave. Now. I start to hear an alarm wail in its own self-administered panic. My hearing gets better, dull thuds reverberate through the station, leaving trailing echoes behind. What's happening? I move my hands and then my arms, feeling something completely alien to me, something new. Freedom. The restraints are gone. "My sincerest condolences for waking you, Mr. Chambers, but it seems to be that the circumstances have changed. Qunsari Station is under attack by an Alliance mercenary coalition , and is under emergency lockdown evacuation protocol procedures. Agent O'Halloran will be with you shortly to escort you to the escape pods, and I am pleased to say you are currently in minimal danger." I sit up- it wasn't much, but it was a start. If my life is to fall into ruin and my mind kept from me forever then so be it, but I will seek understanding until I find it. This could be my chance. "Suck it, Typhoid! Or whatever your name is… talking brains shouldn't have names anyway. Had to let me go this time didn't you?" I wasn't really sure why I hated the AI so much. Probably because it's the only connection I have to bring trapped in this haunting place. Something that wasn't actually real, but you could talk to. "Yes... yes, very well. And it's Typhus, Mr. Vash Chambers." I get up and feel the cold of the metal floor on my feet. Vision still blurred, I scratch my head and run my hands along the bland white smock drooping loosely from me. Before my vision settles for good my stomach is suddenly wracked with inexplicable nausea, my head splitting in a sharp pain knifing through my skull. I lean forward and dry heave a couple times, feeling completely sick, but there was nothing to throw up and the feeling subsides. I'm fatigued, not drowsy- a burning desire to leave transcends any notion of sleep or rest. "You may also have noticed that there is no stigma attached to your head. You may use your biotic abilities, but must exercise caution as you have not been properly trained since your accident. I would recommend you wait for your fellow comrade in arms." That evasive, intrinsic flow of energy is present again, escaping my comprehension but as part of who I am- though that was now subjective- as my hands or legs. I open myself up in its entirety, tapping into an infinite feeling reservoir of a powerful and unknown force. Not only did it coarse through my blood, I could feel it deep within myself. I pull the energy from the ethereal realm into the physical, a blazing blue aura beginning to hum around me with magnanimous effluence. Sharpening my focus I get a feel for the energy's tangibility, its current state of matter defying anything logical; it was everything yet none of them at the same time. I aim for the central control console laid out behind the bed as I am sheathed in all-consuming warmth. Amazing."Please take it easy, Mr. Ch-" the synthetic voice was turned into quickly muffled static. I wasn't on my feet long enough to see what I had done; just seeing the initial force was awe striking. I’m blinded by the light and blown off my feet completely, a cacophony of breaking sounds follows the wake of the enormous telekinetic blast. A smoldering crater dipping around the place of where the bed and control unit once were, completely flipped over and deformed into a twisted mass that was propped up against the back wall, extirpated monitors hung sparking through shattered screens and broken pipes shot steam across the once spotless floor. Without realizing it, a large tile lies across my legs, my back to the wall furthest from the door… my entire being throbs from impact. It didn’t matter though. Not even aware my mouth is still open; I grin and look down at my shaking hands. Things just got a lot more interesting. * * * * A moment later as I am walking towards the door, I can hear dampened gunshots coming from outside. That better be a good thing… it makes me a little anxious and excited at the same time. I run to the door and access the control panel next to the open switch that glows a bright green, tinting my skin and clothes; -* Accessing Door-mainframe Security Terminal *- 357-1 Sector B Hall 4 MedFac, Science Wing accessing camera feed. . . . . . I didn't think someone could possibly move that fast. Even through the static it was remarkable. A soldier of at least some degree barreled around the corner off to the upper left, wearing viridian armor with a golden visor that arches from one side of his helmet to the other and covering half his face. He shoulder rolls forward and was at the other side of the hall at my door, at this point I could hear him, within seconds. Other soldiers clad in a shiny blue come from the other end of the hall and open up with automatic fire. Opalescent yellow barriers materialize inches in front of whoever was trying to get to me and deflects the lasers with ease. Must be this agent guy. With a ferocious looking pistol gripped in both his hands, the man takes a disc shaped item off his belt and pops out from cover, bull rushes the three other soldiers, and reaches their cover in a split second.. all the while delivering a firestorm of bullets. One drops, smoldering corpse slumped in the corner with half a melted face. An explosion puts the feed into a constant static for a moment, but another shot and- it's on. But there stands the same guy, the final heavier armored soldier was on his knees. Blink...
... And all that remains is three bodies and a lot of blood. He presses a long sequence of buttons on the outer console of the door. Taking my eyes off the module screen, the door makes a plink and opens. Walking in at a brisk pace, he notices where I am and comes up to me. I couldn't help but notice how short he was in person. "Ahh, there he is! Sorry you had to see that.." His tone was friendly, and actually enthusiastic. He takes off his helmet. Buzzed red hair, freckles, a toned but narrow face partly covered by an unruly beard of fire- he was quite short in stature though very well built for his size and carried a forward leaning gait. Icy blue eyes stood in contrast to his fiery eyebrows, like two hopeless worlds meeting violent ends. "You do what you have to," I was still a little in shock from this entire ordeal. "I'm Cerberus Agent Balley O'Halloran, Special Tactics, pleased to meet ya Vash," He shook my hand with a concrete grip, "I know you must have a lot of questions, but regrettably we don't have time for all-" he paused when he noticed something was amiss behind me. It took just a quick glance at the room to realize that it was completely destroyed; even the airlock windows had sealed because the glass shattered. His head cocked to one side. "Well, if our interior designer is still alive they're going to have a lot of fun with that…" He carried a heavy Irish accent. Looking over to the large panel once behind my bed that the AI spoke from, he laughs at the gaping hole seared through it, "Thing seriously needed a mute button, aye? Let's get going, I have strict orders to get your ass outta here as fast as possible, and there's a lot I need to fill you in on. We'll go straight for the armory so ya aren't feelin' so nakey and get your arse zapped. Believe it or not I know how it feels, lad,” he cocks his pistol, “Stories later, though. Let's go." Though I was completely exposed to enemy fire, I'm ready. Years of untapped energy flowed through me, and I have more questions for these people than I can fit into my head. Balley tossed me a more compact Armax pistol and a bandolier of thermal clips. Everything was good to go. "This next half hour is going to change a lot of things, Vash. You ready?" "You don't even know." "Then let's go, this room always gave me the chills." Fighting the urge to say something, I instinctively engage the targeting on my sidearm, and we're off.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 7, 2011 10:30:47 GMT 1
* * * * We move unabated through the first few silent hallways, giving me a chance to make some sense of it all. O'Halloran took point with his back to the wall and moved with alacrity down the gray-white hallways. I follow close, realizing all too well my current fragility. "Stay behind me, don't use your biotics, and keep your head down. I know you're a leader, but the Illusive Man himself has put me in charge until you're far away from here. But ay', look at the upsides, we're partners now." That name caused a flickering of images to cross my mind- fluorescent blue eyes looking down on me, asking questions about me, bright lights. The Illusive Man. "Why can't I use them? And why the hell was I on a squishy operating table for god knows how long and when I think of my past there's nothing?" "The Alliance is after you, lad, have been from the beginning. They're trying to steal you, so don't take pity on them when you take their lives. You see, long ago you were beyond critically wounded on a very- delicate- mission, and now they're making their final push to capitalize on your previously unconscious condition. We're pretty sure it was a mole in our security detail.. but it's too late for them anyway. They've been watching you ever since you quit. “They aren't alone this time, either. A powerful merc group is with them to get their hands dirtiest, and if it be the Adonia Remnant I'll shit me a brick I will! Nasty buggers, been around since before we had even explored our entire homeworld Earth as humans." Earth? I can only suppose that's where we all came from. I'm even more clueless than I thought... "Anyway, they'll be in black, the Alliance blue. Kill them all. Heh, as for you operative Chambers! You work for us; a group called Cerberus. You've been here since you left the Alliance four years ago. We're paramilitary, but we aren't terrorists by any means, in fact we're fully funded through legitimate shell corp- ah ya know what? I never liked logistics anyway. We protect humanity while the Alliance bogs itself down in political strife, operating outside their more confining regulations. You were in an accident of sorts, on a mission classified even to the top of any of our branches. After retrieving sensitive intel with your squad, you fell while scaling a building and dropped hundreds of feet, with only extensive head trauma to show for it- but you were beat up badly, and one of your teammates was dead. Ay', by the time we found you, none of your armor worked, the weapon you had left was bent in half-" he pauses to clear a corner, arms outstretched and pistol in both hands, "Had sixty-seven broken bones, and hell you were past half-dead. Your brain partially shut down and your cerebrum was damaged in the process, leaving you with retrograde amnesia. But we brought you back we did, and here you are, in a nutshell. A little early, but, money talks, hmm? I'm sure we will be able to get it all straight, but know this- you are a significant component to the human race... and your actions have the potential to make monumental changes. The armory is just around the corner here." * * * * Five Minutes Later... It seemed too easy. A clear way to the armory, no disturbances whatsoever and I even got to pick my own weapons and armor- but that was probably strictly circumstantial. Then again, maybe "we" were just holding them off. Maybe. In fact, I didn't even know how to align myself- and I knew that now was the completely wrong time to wonder. Most of me wanted to just believe what I was told as an act of good faith and to lend trust to Balley, but what did I really know? Nothing. Another side eclipsed by the first yearns to challenge motives, to ask questions. After a moment's lament as we clank down the debris-strewn hallway, I shrug this pitiable derision aside. One side wants to get their hands on me, the other can't get theirs off. Fuck it. I'm getting out of here and if one of these Alliance types wants to say otherwise, that's just too damn bad. I'd stick with O'Halloran and we'd fight our way out; that's the easiest way to get answers. Right from the source. It'd be good to get some combat experience, too. All this unspent angst and frustration builds up and I feel like I should be killing someone.. .. Like I'm born to be doing this. The voice of an AI, but not Typhus; a woman with a very curtly synthetic voice, resounds over the loudspeaker- "All hands, begin emergency evacuation procedures, code RAEN for all upper echelon staff. Station will self-destruct in thirty minutes, six seconds. Primary shielding disabled, heavy enemy presence on all levels. Backup shielding initiated." The echo fades out and leaves an ominous chill in the air, I shift uncomfortably in my armor- not intimidated about what lied ahead, however. It was all just nerves and eagerness. My Heads Up Display reads we're already half a click away from the armory and still no action. I grow anxious. It only gets worse as I sit a minute later and guard a dark hallway while the agent hacks through a locked door. At this point I'd just blow that shit apart if I were him."So... will I ever get it back?" "Get what back?" He sounds calm given the situation, like he was a seasoned veteran to the panic that leaves many men frozen to their places like cowards. Panic makes a coward of anyone. "Err, my memory, I mean. You probably think I'm crazy." My voice had a distinct muted quality to it while it filtered through my helmet. The air is stale and not getting any better. And this peripheral vision shit is killing me, do I really have to be wearing this? He told me I couldn't let the Alliance know it was me, but I'd rather have perfect vision. It didn't help that the HUD was busy and disorientating, especially since I didn't know how to properly use it. "Oh- that. Sorry lad I'm a little distracted.. you ever try to hack a power-CT conduit before?.. oh, that's right, sorry again- but... ahh, some of these internal systems are from all the way back to the forties, it's fucking bollocks I tell ya!" He momentarily gets lost in his work again. "Ok, so. Your memory? I couldn't really give you the rundown, but I think I caught wind of talk having to do with your temporal lobes and how some regions have regained full functionality. And something about hyperactivity in your limbic system.. vivid flashbacks. Honestly, I'm the only man with the clearance to this stuff that still knows nothing; I'm just here to kill people and make sure you get outta here. Ask the Illusive Man when you meet him, I'm sure he'd be happy to oblige." The name still had these completely foreign emotions attached with it and the fragmented memories of his face. Always in shadow, but then there was his eyes, irises of thinly spurious, bright blue rings that went to his pupils. Something... odd... an enduring strangeness. But wasn't everything strange? A loud Zzzerppp! sparks through the door and it smoothly slides open. "Ah, always satisfying. Shall we?" A few hallways down by now, I could make out other sounds besides the constant clanging of boots on metal. The light muffle of gunfire and yelling comes from the other side of the door at the far end. Finally. The besieged station gives a massive jolt. "Oy. I suspect they're about fully boarded by now. In the training exercises, the response ships never got to the station fast enough to repel an attack. Figures it'd happen now. More allied lapdogs to kill though! Maybe some aliens too," He chuckled. Man this guy is dark, he probably does things like this in his spare time. That was actually pretty funny to think of. Just stay focused, it's a long way home from here. At least I can think straight."Comforting to know, agent." I laughed at the prospect. Home. To me, home was as ambiguous a word as one uses in everyday conversation. Regardless, training of a time long forgotten kicks in to guide my every step. Precision. Accuracy. One is nothing without the other. There was no doubt that I was more than ready for the trials ahead. I look over to the left at the shiny wall, a slate polished gray and black form reflects back at me from the silver paneling. I had to admit; I'd shit myself if I had to fight someone else who had this kit. I was clad head to toe in pro-engineered Cerberus prototype CQB gear, coming from top of the line manufacturers and then altered heavily by a bunch of lab spooks somewhere. My suit was of Kassa Fabrication make, the lightest grade of the Reconnoiter e-5 series.. according to O'Halloran it was the most balanced armor to maneuver ratio and even came with better kinetic barriers twice as durable. Really boring colors, incredible design. Since I didn't need my hands for biotics, I went with a modified Arklov, an F-44 Commando. "One of the three" best lancers currently available, if a little on the heavier side. It fit in my hands perfectly, a streamlined model gleaming a deep blue, it had a white stripe running clean down the middle. A small optical scope a couple inches long was mounted just before the front sight and took some adjusting before I synced it with my suit's weapon network. My helmet is an independent prototype as well and really showed, with an illuminated orange visor that veils the entire front portion of my head. It was all a facade for protection though; I just wanted to get off this claustrophobic nightmare. O'Halloran held his hand up to his ear, listening. "Aye, lad. It just so happens that your project's commando squad is holed up in the mess hall ahead. A good sort, the lot of them, talented to say the least. I'll sync you to their comms. and we'll relieve them, now let's get some action! And uh, make sure your shields are charged.. we don't need you out of commission for two years again." He puts his helmet back on. My adrenaline begins to flare up, instinct taking hold with an almost primal fury. Let's do this. "After you," I said lightly. He did save my life after all. Or did he?* * * * We barrel through the door, him first and then myself, in tight formation. I quickly analyze the scenario; spaciously arranged octagonal mess hall, tall ceiling, everything was some shade of silver or black. Brighter lights, more movement contrast. The endangered squad was hunkered down behind a series of flipped tables no more than twenty feet ahead, receiving heavy fire from an enemy position that wasn't all too different on the other side. The black tiled floor is marred with craters. Tactical layout was basic; it’s essentially two bulkheads, a wide no-man's-land in between, and a serving area that wound its way along the left side of the room. Off to the right is another room completely deserted. The squad itself was already worn down with seven men total, one dead and another injured. It was obvious they couldn't break ground against the enemy they were facing, and the clock was ticking. Hitting cover as fast as humanly possible, we set up in the middle, taking enemy gunshots that stagger us back until we make it behind the tables. I revert all power to my frontal shields, leaving all other angles exposed to armor. The barriers came close to failing. "Balley!" The man on my left shouts over the commotion. A snow white beret fit his shaven head, five o'clock shadow flecked with gray adorning a face which seems almost pleasant compared to his deeply sunken eyes. He sports flashy red armor with curved plates that hurt to look at for too long. "Glad you could make it you bloody mick!" He leans out and fires his lancer, "So this is our other fine young paragon of humanity eh? I wish both of them were sexy, but, if they're worth the hundreds of people that are going to die this afternoon, maybe he can get us out of this." My insides pang with guilt. For a moment, I sat in revile of my own existence that was still outside of my understanding, blind and deaf to the fray happening around. All of these people, dying for me? No, I couldn't control it. All I could do was survive for now. … and what does he mean… ‘Other’?My mind drifts back to that strange dream, to that girl and the cliff. I felt confused again, stomach clenched with that alien feeling. No."Easy, Levon. Vash is a good man and one of the most gifted soldiers our kind has to offer, you'd be wise to owe him yer life as well; he's killed more than anyone in here!." An enemy captures his attention and he lets off a few shots with his pistol, "Come back out here you sodding spacey!" I poke my head up from behind cover and then back down; several figures in either blue or black armor reveal themselves and aim their weapons, firing. One shot absorbed into my shoulder and jolted me back but still.. they weren't as threatening as I had expected. Ten in all- at least. Many aren't human. The ecstasy of combat vibrates me inside my gear, or is it my shields recharging?"Perhaps it was out of place for me to say that." The man turns to me, looks me in the eye and shakes my hand, "Staff Lieutenant Levin Altruis at your service." I could tell he was deeply studying me, as if he could know me so well with a mere glance. A man that would be handsome if he wasn't placed under the stress he's obviously experienced, his gray eyes are like stormy seas raging in a tempest no one else could ever know. "We're the ACU commando squad assigned to your recovery Cell.. CTeam Seven. I apologize if I'm standoffish about losing my men, operative Chambers, but I'm sure in your past you've experienced the same." I peek up again in between volleys, but for a moment I'm distracted... momentarily haunted by O'Halloran's past words... '... and one of your team mates was dead.' I didn't even know who it was who must've died under my command, but the survivor guilt held me by the throat, this pent up emotion. I felt the need to let it all go. An explosion in the enemy position knocks someone out of cover, their shields completely blown. I rise from behind the table and level my crosshairs, peering down my reflex scope and firing a quick but controlled volley. Confirmed kill. The gentle recoil was like a long lost friend. What did I feel? I didn't feel anything. How is one supposed to feel when they take a life? "I understand, Lieutenant." The AI breaks out over the intercom again, "Twenty five minutes until self-destruct. Primary shielding depleted with life support failure on decks thirty-one through thirty-four. Remaining tech staff, code red to dock 62." Time being of the essence, I spring back up and fire, wearing down the shields of an alien with an incredibly long diagonal head and accommodating armor to boot. Shields dying on my last burst, the final blue beam of superheated energy sears through the torso of its suit, knocking the alien backwards and off balance, O'Halloran aims his pistol and fires one shot, blowing half its face off and sending fleshy chunks of purple spattering across the pillar behind it. Excited by the kill, Balley gives a loud "WOOO!" before returning to cover. A friendly soldier downs another. Seven left. "Nice assist lad! Told ye there'd be aliens, ay?!!?" I couldn't help but laugh at him. And he genuinely enjoys blowing people's heads off, is that good or bad that he's my partner right now? As if to transcend the quick lapse in apparent danger, one of our men is taken down in a hailstorm of hostile fire, chest bubbling red and sizzling with his ribcage protruding out.. screaming this unforgettable shriek. It's that first initial moment where you're chilled to the bone by seeing a comrade die in such a way for the first time- again- but as his gurgling screams slowly stop we needed to take action. "Cade is down, LT! We need to do something!" The chime of a female's voice comes from off to the left. "Ah, buttfuck I know! What's the time on that heavy, Sky?" The lieutenant retorts over the gunfire. "I'll surprise you." I could barely make her out on the end of the table setup. She was small, real petite- but her armor made up for it with thick matted plates in a jet black finish, allowing no light to reflect off- if anything a tactical choice. Lined with baby blue that gives her suit a feminine touch; her kit flattered her in all the right places. Apparently she was trying to fix a rocket launcher almost as big as her. Damn, she could be a major distraction in combat. War and sex appeal all in the same room, welcome to outer space I guess?Hot girls, hotter guns. I come up from cover and aim to spray a wide sweep at their formation, but my rifle only gives a benign 'click'. I shake my head in embarrassment and kneel down again to replace my thermal clip, ejecting the spent one with a metallic tink! as it bounces off the floor. This isn't Basic, dumbass. Distraction is right. Lieutenant Altruis makes a wide motion with his hand raised, calling for the squad's attention, "Alright, everyone. Listen here. Until we get our Spanker unjammed; clear the area; and link up with Casz and Amory; we've got to play it safe. Balley, Vash and Sky; textbook flank through the serving area, hit 'em hard with 'nades, rapid fire- anything you got." O'Halloran lights up with glee. "Give three pings on the comm. to indicate your position is green. Trinsdale; fix the damn launcher so we have a chance of living. The rest of us will give suppression fire, then toss flashes over their cover and bam, blitz! Two pings to start. We'll skullfuck these Alliance sons of bitches back to Arcturus for sucker punching us like this!" As everyone got ready for the push Altruis turned more towards me and leaned closer, lowering his voice, "Don't let her do something really stupid, alright? She's the most talented fighter in this Cell second to Balley, but she likes to get all wily in battle and take unnecessary risks. Come to think of it; they'd be perfect for each other, but she’s turned him down more times than I can count." "Well I'll try not to let them down, lieutenant, and I'll protect her. You can count on me." Could he though? Was I expected to pull us out of the fire on a dime, and if so, without casualty? I was technically a new recruit who lacked experience, so what did I know? Even if this was the only time, I was relieved I didn't have to command a suicide mission like this. Accepting the death of someone else under your command isn't something many people can fully walk away from. And judging by the looks of it, there's going to be a lot of death.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 8, 2011 20:57:14 GMT 1
Seconds later... Two pings. It's all or nothing, no hesitation, no mercy. We could all die anyway. The sporadic fire picked up before the hell storm let itself loose. So many blaster shots you couldn't even see the room without getting dizzy, needless to say the coalition of enemies were pressured more than enough while we slinked behind the serving area. They didn't see. We're just lucky that we're close enough and they aren't. An awkward ceasefire is broken when the other faction releases a torrential rain of gunfire on our remaining squad. The tables are dangerously close to collapsing by now. We move lightning quick, I was point, Sky was behind me with O'Halloran crouched in tow. Looking behind me for a brief moment while halfway across I meet eyes with Sky, gorgeous even under her tinted visor and military gear; the girl is exotic and incredibly young despite her more grizzled peers. She returns a weak smile that holds a faint warmth- it was comforting... and so I smile back only to realize that I’m an idiot. We reach the end. I look to the agent who brings up the nav on his right gauntlet and nods with a graven expression. The shooting resumes full force. Three pings. I crouch farther down and take out two disc grenades from my utility belt, priming them for eight seconds. I close my eyes. A profusion of flashbangs detonate right as I lower my head, and we rise from cover. I arc the grenades at the outer wing of their table setup that protects their entire front in a hemisphere. O'Halloran lobs an incendiary grenade and Sky actually jumps over the metallic counter and goes all in with her heavy carbine. No matter where they ran, they didn't really have a chance while completely blind for a few seconds. This could very well turn into a massacre. Raising my lancer, I spray an unforgiving fifty round clip into the exposed line and cut down at least two. I crouch back down to cover, reload and come back up, moving around the counter with my weapon firing fully automatic. The feel of the kick against my shoulder, the subtle bruises that are beginning to form, it’s all so much more comforting than being awoken on a space station in the middle of nowhere and told where to go, what to do. Sky kicks a soldier down and fires three roaring shots into the alien’s chest, then with her feet still on its throat, she kills another at close range while our remaining unit charges the bewildered enemy force to take the ultimate victory. Balley's war cry rings sonorous in the distance. Now I remember, it's all a game of killing faces, and right before you die you'll see every single one of them. Explosions wrack the enemy cover and knock most of them down, others blindly retreat in vain... bent tables are flung haphazardly in all directions and an Alliance soldier, shields flickering out, is lit completely ablaze and abruptly smashed in the face with the molten side of a bench. I rise once more and top off an alien female, with smooth tendrils of thick skin pulled to the back of her head and skin like a deep ocean.. her delicate face is spattered with gore and she hits the ground in a bloodied heap. Three left. I don't stop firing, it'd be weird if I said this feels good, but it almost does.They hadn’t broken through a single one of our shields when our line overruns them. The unit knifes through the compromised cover and cleans it up spray-n'-pray style, the last man still shooting his weapon while he falls. It's over. Corpses and deformed tables lay scattered in carnage. I finally relax. That went pretty smooth after all, maybe there's hope. Discharging another spent clip, I notice a badly wounded alien crawling towards the nearby door, lower body completely missing, trailing a mess of guts with it. It gurgles something completely unintelligible, resulting in deep purple blood to pour out of the alien's mandibles. O'Halloran puts his sidearm to its head and forcefully pushes down so its face smears in its own pool of blood, I almost flinch. "What was that? Didn't quite catch ye!" He laughs sadistically and fires the last round in his pistol. Everyone takes a moment to regain their bearings, the paradoxical moment where the shooting stops and the calm feels all encompassing. The sound of it had a tangibility to itself. Again, it all felt routine. "Regroup! Excellent work, everyone. We've done the fallen proud." Altruis was clearly elated that no one else in his squad was killed. * * * * We assembled ourselves in a place that, moments before, was an impossible killing grounds, but now was a common ground. Ceaseless floor rocking booms hit the station and spurs conversation to be fast and blunt. We suffered no losses in the fight, and no one was injured. But Altruis' other two operatives, Amory and Casz, were supposed to hook up with fire team Alpha for support when they lost radio contact from an Alliance jamming contingency. We would now head towards the tech labs and try to find them along the way. The Spanker, which I realized was slang for the portable SpnKR-12 missile launcher, still wasn't fixed, but I figured it wasn't necessarily imperative to our success. It was probably safer to not use high-explosive ordinance on an airtight space station anyway, but then again we seemed to prove that notion wrong a second ago. On a more positive note I was finally acquainted with the rest of the unit, and they were an exceptionally receptive bunch, the survivors were operatives Jason Trinsdale, Davotti McKeon, Sky Nozomi, and Lasiaf Moroko- who was missing his arm from the elbow down but bravely held onto a submachine gun with his shaking right hand. He actually shook mine, no pun intended. The only other regular soldier that I could recognize besides Sky, he didn't wear a helmet that caused an ambiguity and obscured the other commandos- minus the fact that you could know it was O'Halloran from a mile away. Moroko was a big, powerful guy, dark skin beading with sweat. Fear was engrained into his eyes. And of course there was the leader, Altruis, the oldest and most charismatic. I think he's finally lightened up to me and accepted the fact that some things cannot be helped. Some things can, though. Amidst my frantic state of mind focusing on escaping and what was to come next, I couldn't help but feel contented by being part of a team with good heads on their shoulders. Balley's might be slightly off center, but it was alright. We move through the next set of doors, towards the tech lab access.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 10, 2011 5:05:41 GMT 1
Chapter II: Raining In Heaven There was a certain kind of emptiness in killing people with no real cause of your own. It rings hollow long after it ends. Seeing the life fade from someone's eyes, another soul, simply when your gun chooses them. * * * * The air within the crew lounge was rank with the stench of ozone and burning flesh. We had made progress since first meeting up, and O'Halloran uploaded the floor plans on my nav for the entire station- nice of him. The thing was colossally large, with almost one hundred decks that I could scroll through with the nav that connected right to my helmet's internal network. It was still confusing as shit. Either way, we had to follow a system of side hallways to get to another arterial hall that runs adjacent to the tech labs, and from there, to an access lift, then go eight floors down and head towards the escape pods. Apparently, O'Halloran is an intelligence agent and got them to attack so called "ghost sectors", effectively concentrating their troop movement to abandoned sections of the station. Right now we were on the starboard side of Qunsari, the right wall of the deck 27 lounge bore broad windows and showed much of starry space in assurance. The cozily lit room had an imperial, luxurious atmosphere to it. Ironic for what comes of it. Doing all of this in just under twenty minutes? No problem. Moving past the charred bodies and trying not to step in too much blood, the seven of us make our way through another shiny hallway that’s cluttered with wreckage. Circuit panels hang ajar, open and sparking. We take two rights and continue down a tighter passage, rightmost side separating us and the lifeless expanse of space with only a flimsy piece of glass. This place must be more meant to look like an unsuspecting research platform than an armored fortress. They really didn't want my location to be revealed... had I always been this high-profile in the past? I didn't know. I guess this coalition of multi-specie mercs and human military wanted to get me at my weakest. Bastards. Out of nowhere at the far end of the hall emerge three armored figures in black. A quick moment flicks by; everyone is confused as the sizeable distance misconstrues whether or not it was the enemy and no one fires. We all have dark armor. With only the Lieutenant ahead of me, I took my left hand off my lancer's grip and toggled my friend/foe ID on my blue lit nav. My Heads Up Display outlines them in red, and what I did next was just an act of quick thinking. I switched my rounds to armor piercing, not ideal for a close quarters environment, but for what I was thinking... well... I just had a good feeling about it. As everyone aims to fire, I let off a lone round that zips right on by and into the glass. The entire window on their side, leading halfway up the hall, shatters into pieces and instantaneously gets sucked out by the effervescent vacuum of space. The first two screaming soldiers are blown out of the station completely and left to suffocate, but the third tries to fight the pull. Of course, O'Halloran is the only one to shoot at the doomed man. As he's swept off his feet the blast door slams down in place of the window and shears him in half with a wet crunch, the upper half of his body floating off into outer space and leaving a trail of suspended red blood. A human. For a moment, everyone just kind of stood there. "Triple, baby!" Balley hoots. A bloody set of legs slide down the curved wall and buckle onto the floor. "Vash, with the zinger!" Operative McKeon cheered while we resume pace. He’s definitely of heavy British descent, "Why don't you just clean house with your biotics? We'd right be out of here in sixty seconds." "I have orders not to." Rifle to my cheek, I continue down the hall, hugging the left side. "Jeeze Davotti.. you never fully read the post-brief ever, do you?" Sky's confident voice cut the air from behind like a beam of heaven shining through the darkest pits of hell, just to light everything up a tinge. "Why not just throw up a flashy sign that has a giant arrow pointing right at him? He does that, Alliance will be on us like no other." She’s agitated from the stress of battle, but her outward calm balanced it. Altruis meanwhile mutters something about an 'ass of a stoner.' Davotti laughs. "Piss off, Sky! We might as well. And yes, if he put a sign above himself I'd wager we'll all get ransacked and taken off to God knows where!" Sky sighs in disdain, still working on the Spanker between fights. There was a certain carefree attitude about the man- I noticed it even during a time like this. He seemed at home with every dangerous situation, taking the edge off the tension of our bloody near future together. Bloody indeed. Now that I think of it, this being the first thing I wake up to has to be an ill omen. What was there to hold on to; what pleasantness was there to be gleaned since I've been awake that wouldn't haunt me to my death? Sky's charmed smile and climbing up the cliffside with that girl I can barely remember were the only comfortingly pure thoughts I had. It gave me a slight feeling of familiarity that wasn't like the torturous emptiness I carried around. Maybe dreaming of diving through the clouds.. before it got out of control? The sweet smell of a tropical ocean breeze. I hear the distant clank of armored boots ahead, and again I quickly tense, combat instinct taking over. Stop daydreaming, you can do that when you know you're going to live. We're about to get to the end of the tall and narrow passage when two other soldiers come speeding around the corner, armed and armored to the teeth like everyone else I've bumped into. Already overly cautious, we steady our weapons at them only to make the split-second realization- they're Cerberus commandos as well. They put their hands up, obviously recognizing us. "Friendly, friendly!" They shouted. Having no radio contact was making things sloppy. They have armor similar to the others, but everyone's is personalized in their own way, keeping the same colors to give the impression of being a true security detail. Eventually I could tell everyone apart by the quirky nuances to their kits, plus their varying body types and helmet designs. For instance, Davotti has a medium build and so does Jason, but his shoulders are broader and Jason is a few inches taller. Davotti also has a strange yellow smiley face right on the front of his helmet above the visor; satirical to say the least. One of the two other men is long and lanky, wearing heavier set pauldrons adorned with spikes, and the shorter soldier had a very different helmet and stuck out with two yellow stripes down the side of his arms and legs. Even after losing a few men, they were a force to be reckoned with. I hope they all didn't have to babysit me for an entire two years. Altruis is the first to talk, "Casz, Amory! If it isn't dumb and dumber. We're code green with Subject Kal, and last I knew the AC science teams were cleared to evac," His face relaxes just enough that you could notice it. The tallest, heavier set man clearly notices me and speaks up with a deep voice, "So that's the Vash Chambers? Wow, I'd consider asking for your autograph but quite frankly we have a bunch of shit on our plate right now-" The Lieutenant cuts him off, "What's the word with Alpha?" At least I've garnered some sort of respect from everyone by now. "Not good, they've set up shop at airlock 60 half a click away just outside the tech labs. There's a massive boarding party headed straight for it. No one's getting out of here unless it's repelled.." The smaller man- though not small by any stretch of the imagination- jumps in, "They realized Balley here was leaking them false intel about which side of the station to board, so now they're coming at us full force and we’re out of time… it'll take our cruisers a half hour to get here," his tone is grim. I can make out a deep scar on a part of his cheek his visor doesn't cover that winds its way down the milky complexion of his face. The larger man, a note of worry carried in his husky voice asks, "Where's Cade and Marlow?" The entire squad hushes. Altruis breaks the solemnity, "Both dead, Amory. We'll mourn our losses later." I could see it right there, it was difficult for him to keep his professionalism on the matter. He was very personal with his troops; it showed on every stress line that creased his face. "Right, LT." The news causes him to sound despondent, like his mind is elsewhere. "Then we all know what needs to be done, let's get it on." He takes point and begins moving before he even finishes, something a true leader would do. * * * * The tech labs were an eerie, dimly lit maze of dark blue hallways. Everything smelled sterile, and there was a curious echo that never stopped. With ceilings so low that Amory almost had to duck when going through doors, we move quickly and quietly through rooms of lab setups and advanced equipment of unknown purpose. Passing by a small subsidiary room with no front wall, undisturbed work stations glow inside, complete with mounted screens that flourish with data. An empty chair rocks back and forth. The entire place was devoid of any and all life and my motion tracker remained undisturbed. Something doesn't feel right here. As we emerge from a room and down a longer sized corridor, the largest jolt to hit the station since my awakening shakes the entire floor to the foundation. The lights go out and we stumble. Altruis turns his head and whispers to us "Night vision up everyone." It took me a bit to figure out how to turn it on, but it ended up being right on the side of my comms. piece. It was weird having to adjust back to basics when you think you already know what you're doing, and it's all wrong. In a straight line formation with ample space between one man and the next, we make our way down. The brightness of the night vision setting causes me to squint, but my eyes start to adjust- right as a deafening blast off to the immediate left completely throws us all against the wall with bone cracking velocity. Almost blind for a second and face up on the floor, I can make out blood spatters on my armor amidst the flickering of my dead shields. My back throbs with waves of pain. A maintenance hatch blows open only meters behind us and the ambushers open fire. Aw fuck. "Ambush!!! Counterattack!!!" ____________________________________________________________________________________________________
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 12, 2011 19:01:49 GMT 1
I lunge for my lancer that lays in front of me and stand up. It took every shred of my being to resist using my biotics to make sure no one else was hurt.
Whoever was in the back- either Trinsdale or McKeon- is cut down immediately.
The passageway turns into a flurry of carnage, vivacious beams of all colors illuminate the darkness. Casz kills one of them with a slew of biotics, raising him up and then sending him into the ground upside down with more than enough power to shatter his neck. A stray shot hits me in the bulkier midsection of my chest plate and melts into it, another glances off my shoulder. I aim from the hip and squeeze the trigger, but the rifle refuses to fire- damaged by the blast. I fight the panic of helplessness, unclip the pistol the agent gave me and fire wildly at the last man.
A over-encumbered Sky gets to her feet and finds a newfound resolve. Poises her large weapon and shoots two decisive rounds that make heavy THUDs and blow straight through the soldier's armor. Sends him to the floor hard.
Silence resumes while I pick up my F-44, a couple of commandos standing around the corpse of one of our own...
Jason had been killed by the ambush.
We weren't all okay either. O'Halloran's leg was grazed and had shrapnel lodged in his collarbone; painful but not serious wounds. Davotti had taken a plasma bolt directly to his shooting arm and Sky would've been dead if her heavy armor wasn't there to bear the brunt of the gunfire. She had melted blast marks, some still glowing, all over her suit and was incredibly lucky that she didn't take a hit herself. Shaken up but having done well for an unlucky trap like that, we move on.
Altruis bends down to Jason's scorched body and removes his dog tags, placing them in a pouch with all the rest. He says a silent prayer, then unsheathes the man's pistol and tosses it to Balley.
"He loved the thing, but never did any good with it.. merry Christmas." O'Halloran, clearly having a thing for pistols, grips it in his offhand and flips it twice, once in the other direction. He smiles. This time, it wasn't out of bloodlust or killing, but of understanding.
"Aye, Levon." It was the only I've heard him say something with genuine sincerity.
"Let's move everyone, double-time it to the airlock!"
Lasiaf, realizing I had only a pistol that was working, unfolds a shotgun that had been just attached to the back of his armor and hands it to me. It was bold, with a long and futuristic design that looked even more advanced than most conventional firearms.
"You'll need it more than I will, Chambers."
I thank him while syncing the weapon's guncam to my HUD and holster my pistol when the lights turn back on. I deactivate my night vision and let my eyes adjust to the visible spectrum of light once again.
We move without incident through two more shorter corridors and take a quick right through another. The lights flicker on and off each time the station is hit.
The AI's monotone fills the station, "Backup power online. Critical life support failures on decks forty-two through fifty-one. Code black to remaining personnel. Fifteen minutes until self-destruct."
"Those slimy blokes have been EMP'ing the shit out of us," Davotti winced through his injury.
"I can't believe they got Jason too..." Nozomi's voice trails off and is swallowed by the whining of the alarms.
"Let's keep it going Seven; the boarding craft is about to dock, and I hear it's a big one." We turn down a one-way hall where a glowing "Dock 60" is displayed in orange above the entryway's frame. Continuing and rounding one last corner, we arrive at an airlock chamber with a raised arched ceiling and about thirty meters long, four times as wide, well lit and stacked with crates and containers of all sorts for makeshift protection. It slants down just enough so that everyone has a clear vantage point. At the end stands a hexagon-shaped airlock door, the green light of the access panel splashing over its washed out ebony color.
Over a dozen other Cerberus commandos were hunkered down behind crates and thick braces of the spacious hallway. Weapons are poised unflinchingly at the door.
The eight of us fan out into the "room", receiving darting glances from our comrades in arms- they were quickly relieved at the sight of backup. Tactically spreading our numbers, the agent sets up in the very back right behind a tall crate half his height and takes out a sniper rifle while he lays down his bipods. He'll be like a kid in a candy store pretty soon. Casz and Amory move up the closest, right across from each other behind a buttress that juts out from the hall on both sides. Sky hunkers down in the very middle behind a makeshift cover position shared by two others, still lugging around a six foot missile launcher while Altruis links up with the platoon leader of Alpha on the right side. O'Halloran tells me to stay in the back with him just in case, so I do, while the other wounded members get situated a couple meters ahead of us.
Wait a second...
A shotgun at thirty meters? I'm calling bullshit.
"O'Halloran... I don't know if you didn't notice, but I have Moroko's shotgun and a pistol that won't do me much good from here; shouldn't I be at the front?"
"Nonsense, lad... wait a darn second, you just gave me a splendid idea you did!"
"Err.. and what is that?"
"You snipe, I'll go to the front," he smiled broadly, bearing his yellow stained teeth.
"But I haven't even-" The station shudders and moans with a metallic cry and followed up by my long range scanner going off the charts.
"You'll be fine! It's standard optics and I'm sure your past training will kick in once you get a feel for it. These two knobs- here- calibrate your scope... don't worry I just did this mornin'. Big ol' AP Cynsaxel rounds though, you're gonna have to feed her each time you shoot but it'll be well worth the one shot kills you'll be rackin' up! Besides, I'll be pulling you out long before the fight's over to make sure you have enough time to escape." Since I didn't really have a choice, I nod and take his place, the agent's streamlined armor rattling while he walks down the hallway to the very front that comprises of him and four others. They’re pretty close to the door, about ten meters, but weren't crazy enough to get right up there. He left me a whole case of clips.
Brave, but he's literally insane. He wouldn't even take the shotgun.
I peer down the scope and toy with it for a second. Acclimate to the feel of the reload, get it down as fluid and quick as possible. It’s a sizeable sniper sheathed completely in black, the grip integrated into the stock to maximize maneuverability- a longer sniper would be useless on a space station.
Interrupting my practice, another big boom reverberates the floor and is followed by the long robotic drone of a ship docking.
They're here.
"Look sharp, everyone! At least fifty AR mercs detected on the other side, this is it, boys!"
My stomach drops. There was no way we could ever...
"Check your crossfire."
Kneeled down on one knee for balance and support, I look down the scope, giving me eight and sixteen times magnification and a clear shot at the door. Suspense slows time to a crawl, a minute sluggishly ticking by.
This is it, the fight that decides our fate.
In that moment of silence I came to the realization, that even if I survive this to see another day, events such as these may end up being the only things I see that amount to anything.
In that clear moment, I realize I’m a killer.
* * * *
The thick door suddenly convulsed and detonates violently outwards. Silhouettes emerge from the thick smoke, some are tall and broad shouldered aliens, some are humans just like us.
Shocktroopers in their telltale black gear pour out in small phalanx formations, blazing-yellow tech shields and strong biotic barriers taking the initial volley of our desperate counterattack. The first wave is still no match for us- assault rifles eventually rip apart all shield types and any gap in their defenses was a fatal weakness in the eyes of my sniper. The first round I unleash bursts through an alien's armored head, sending gore spewing back at the onslaught of other enemy warriors. I flip the bolt up and slide it backwards, inserting a new thermal clip in about three seconds. I steady my aim again and take out another.
As most of the first wave already lay defeated, the few survivors hold off until the second, that is, until I picked them off.
Click. Pooooooshhhhhh. Another high velocity blows open someone's head like an over ripened fruit, the weapon's recoil threatens to dislocate my shoulder after each kill. Another taller alien spins halfway around and collapses to the floor.
A second wave emerges- this time it wasn't so easy. A front line of six heavily armored aliens with long heads move into the room and form a battle line, lightly armored forces in the back shielding them with a universal biotic barrier that was impervious to fire, but semipermeable so they still could. We lose two men during the hectic fight, but the biotic wielders in our unit protect anyone whose shields were disabled- a good strategy but not something anyone could solely rely on. The buzzing blue of the shield finally flickers out after barrages of gunfire. Most of our platoon having reloaded by now, the combat resumes full force with a lot of movement, I fire and miss my first shot.
When I look out from the scope to reload I notice the enemy finally making ground.
I knock out the shields of a heavy merc, reload, and manage to get a clean kill before anyone else had gotten to him. Another soldier encumbered with sharp-planed armor falls to his knees.
I withdraw my eyes from the optics again and notice that Casz and Amory were wreaking havoc on the enemy line with biotics of their own. With their front line diminished, over a dozen hostile biotic specialists and regular infantry rush out and fire a dilugence of rounds up the landing.
O'Halloran shoots madly with both pistols from behind a crate and kills one only to take a storm of fire in the process. His shields flicker out but he refuses to get back, taking a couple more shots before Casz, also without kinetic barriers, shields him from an imminent death from the safety of his cover. The agent reloads and doesn't let up. I miss another shot, but my next one blows off the arm of an alien and sends it flying against the wall, blue blood smears behind its carcass.
Eventually I was focusing on nothing but hitting my targets, the autonomous melody of the reload, and the symphonic musical notes of sniperfire ringing through my ears. I was the wildcard, applying direct pressure from afar, hopefully making a difference in this bloodbath.
At least twenty corpses were scattered about the floor. If anything, cover was the one decisive element to this battle.
With a few casualties of our own by now, we repel the second wave with a few soldiers still firing at us from within their vessel. Blinking away sweat, I steady my hands as best I can and concentrate at the foes hiding in their troop bay; I hold my breath, clench the trigger and pull back only to clip an arm. The force still sends him to the floor and removes an entire forearm plate. The bolt got caught on one of the notches, but I rounded it out as smooth as I could. More poured out, stepping over the wounded man and past piles of corpses, guns blazing.
These ones were different... all slender female aliens in perfectly matching, majestic-like armor. Even the way they held their rifles told you they were nothing but professional, somehow even their shields held to our most concentrated fire... Nothing so beautiful and deadly should be allowed to exist.
The crosshairs on my optics hover right over one of their blue heads. They all look eternally youthful, pure. I fire but miss again…
It was bemoaning to see the consequence.
Emptying a spent shell, I scan our platoon's own lines just to notice Amory is felled with a fatal shot to the neck by the same target. Blood shoots from his neck like a geyser.
Casz, roaring like a madman, leaps from cover and over to his friend, at the same time flinging telekinetics from his hands as if it’s nothing. One alien is thrown like a ragdoll against the polished blue walls, her body breaking with sheer overwhelming force. Many others are pitched back and onto the floor where several are killed by concentrated fire. Blood of all colors flowed freely in every direction imaginable.
Casz starts dragging his comrade back to cover near the middle, blind with rage. But... he's already dead. They must've been really close. Guilt slapped me in the face.
Pushing it aside for now, I keep fighting, blowing through the specialized clips faster than I thought was possible- but my hands are starting to shake and I’m unsteady. Determined not to let it happen again, I kill two more of the strange alien women. Peering back down the scope, I aim to fire but the weapon stops working and makes a weak purring sound. What, am I cursed or something? More average soldiers flow interminably from the door. A sea of black that washes over the landing of the ship’s bay. Our front line was now meters back from where it was thirty seconds ago and enemies were now behind cover.
Turns out that cursed wasn't the answer though; it had overheated. There was absolutely no way I could deal with a cooldown time at this point.
Forgot to tell me it did that, O'hallodick.
Operative Nozomi was the first soldier ahead of me, alternating between repairing the rocket launcher and keeping enemy forces at bay.
We were finally about to be overwhelmed. She's fixing the Spanker, or I'm bringing in some heavy weapons myself, but I know what comes first. I exit the sniper position and lock up my shotgun, place it in its respective gunslot on my back and withdraw my shiny white pistol. Staying low I rush down and finish with a poorly tucked roll to Sky's position in the middle. I take the place of a commando who was killed in action and respectfully push his body to the side.
"How're we holding up?"
"Good... I think! Most of us are here! Except... Amory's down," she ducks down farther while gunfire pings off of the two stacked containers in front of her, "Casz is going to be devastated," She finishes sadly and slides a fresh clip into her menacing weapon. Under the brighter lights I notice her armor, now twisted hunks of metal clinging to her with gaping holes from head to toe. Everyone's armor was beat up, but hers was barely protecting her. The blue lining of her suit had melted down parts of her armor that fall off her body, and her deep-blue tinted visor is partly smashed. The Lieutenant really wasn't joking...
"It was my fault."
"No, Vash. It wasn't. Some things just happen! Say... you remember how to fix a broken Spanker?" Her voice was angelic in the brutality of combat, even if she was trying to yell over it all.
"Can't say I do, but thanks for that!"
"Don't mention it!" Changing the setting on her carbine, she gets up and shoots a triage of yellow beams, then hunches down to continue, "I saw a picture of you while we were getting briefed for Project Kallistratos, you're a little too cute not to know the way everything works, the least I can do is help!" Just the idea that she would even care as to be so kind in this dire situation boosts my gloomy spirits for a moment; it gives me something pleasant to hold onto amongst the bloodshed.
"How about this. You try and fix it once and for all, and I'll cover you until you do!"
"Deal. Here- take this!" she tosses me her TZ6 semi-automatic and gets to work. I'd seen the monstrosity in action so many times I had almost the urge to try one out myself, with its phenomenal stopping power housed inside big yellow bolts that delivers results every time. I heft the heavy carbine and adjust the targeting to my liking, using the small green tinted dot sight mounted on the top rail to scan the enemy presence.
"How do you even use this thing, Nozomi? You're like five two!"
"Mass effect fields on my gloves! And hey! I'm five four..." She flashes another charming smirk and raises her hands in front of her, opening and closing them.
"There's a lot for me to learn, then," I sighed.
* * * *
Another minute in, and we are losing ground faster than we should, soldiers die all around us.
The enemy mercenaries control nearly half of the airlock chamber and show no signs of slowing down. Kill one, and two will surely take its place, a luxury that we did not have. Our line was disintegrating while my armor was beginning to look like Sky's.
Moroko had taken multiple deep plasma wounds to the chest and legs and was in danger of bleeding out- Devotti had rushed to his aid. Our comrades fall all around us and slowly we are cut down to a force of twelve, fighting simply for the right to exist. There is no way I'm going to die on my first day back, no way in hell.
"Ten minutes until self-destruct. Hull breaches on all levels. All hands, abandon ship."
We had killed nearly thirty enemy combatants, but it didn't stop.
Altruis' reassuring voice booms off to the right and up a ways, scared sounding for the first time since I'd met him.
"Grenadiers, take cover! Coordinate fire!"
I come up from the crates and unload, aimed at the airlock door where enemies continue to flood from. I kill one, two, three. Reload. One man pops out of the door and into the fray with a disc grenade in his hand. With steady aim I remove his shields in three semi-auto shots, rip through his torso armor with two more and send the last one through to blow a head-sized hole out of his midsection. A subsequent explosion tears apart at least two and wounds many others, but still our line loses ground. Me and Sky, now the only ones holding down our entrenched cover, fall back to a nearby secondary position and we're joined by O'Halloran. Nine of us remain.
She seems on the verge of achieving something, seemingly unphased by the explosions all around.
"Sky! Is that Spanker ever going to work?! We're getting fucked out here!" The lieutenant was at the front of the action, directing combat from a place that I feel many leaders dare not tread. I didn't know anything about modern warfare, but I do know that he held the line just as well- if not better- than other commandos in their prime.
The girl doesn't respond.
We were slowly entering the jaws of fatalistic defeat… and I was on the verge of killing everyone with telekinetics. If it comes to that, then I'll do it. Think about it though, charge up and they'll know it's me in a second.. so I'll need to chill it out. Keeping my cool could end up saving more lives. It took incredible amounts of self-reserve to do this. Whatever ship these mercenaries came in on, it was big, and the end of enemy reinforcements was nowhere in sight. I had already let many men die because I couldn't use my "abilities"; and it was almost heartbreaking to let it keep happening.
Thirty seconds drag by. We fight and though we've lost half our previous ground, we don't give an inch without dropping a few mercs. I'm almost out of ammo and the barrel of my borrowed rifle is burning red hot with effulgence, but I had gotten used to the duck and cover game. Anytime my primary shielding goes down below ten percent, I simply get down and wait, then come back up. That's not to say it was easy or that simple though; I was exhausted.
Just as I pop in a fresh clip and aim out to fire, off to the far left I see Lasiaf and another commando maimed by a lucky grenade. Davotti had also been nearly mortally wounded nearby with both his legs devastated by plasma. Eight of us remain, fighting like cornered animals. Fuck this, it's do or die, I set down the carbine.
Tapping into the flow of energy yet again, I bathe in its uncongealed presence, drawing it to my hands so that I could flatten this place and get out of here. Siphoning a mass quantity of telekinetic force to a swirling focal point between my hands, I aim carefully.
But before I can do anything, Sky lets out a triumphant "Aha!!!!" and finally shoots the Spanker, completely blowing her off her feet backwards. A sleek missile with a billowing contrail streaks down the landing with a deep-seated hissing sound. Hitting the foot of the doorway, the conflagration reaches out in every direction and consumes most of the soldiers behind cover. A ten meter span of floor is completely destroyed as well, rising sharply then sinking into a smoldering crater. I release the hold on my biotics and stare in amazement for a moment. The sheer recoil knocks her down, but she slides in another missile- still sitting- and shoulders it.
The second shot was even more accurate. Spiraling through the doorway, it disappears somewhere inside the boarding craft and is followed by a thunderous muffled bang, a dismembered and scorched female alien is hurled out the bay door if only to assure the destruction that was to follow. Something chain reacts within and the entire ship implodes while a blast door seals down in front of the destroyed entryway. Another screeching cry of metal on metal echoes behind the sealed barricade; the ship was easily falling to pieces.
The rest of the mercs are dead in seconds.
Sky, having saved us completely, drops the portable cannon and falls to her knees with a drawn out sigh, her breath riding the end of the sound of action and into the beginning of the odd silence. The rest of us slowly rise from cover and try to block out what had just happened, long enough to persevere. Casz, now helmetless, stabilizes McKeon as best he can, wiping away tears from his own grieving eyes while getting him up on his feet again. Altruis rounds us all up at the entrance, his voice is as shaken as the sullen expression on his face,
"Move out Seven! We'll all enjoy royal treatment and a paid vacation if we can get out of here alive, you all deserve it more than anyone." As we're about to leave the room he adds, "Nice shot, Sky."
The intercom comes to life with the voice of an AI, but not the female; it was Typhus again.
"Code black on all levels, self-destruct sequence complete in six minutes. All oxygen will be completely exhausted in four minutes, forty-six seconds. Proceed immediately to lifeboats in non-vacuum exposed areas." The station had been getting demolished for over a half hour, but was still somehow holding up.
If I truly had anything, I'd give it to forget this day. So much life, given for what? For whom?
A moment later while we clang down the hall, more explosions come from several floors down and the objective updater on my nav blinks red.
"Uh, boss? We’ve got a problem…" Sky’s voice had lost its warmth; that alone was sobering. Something was very wrong.
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Post by Aldebaran on Aug 19, 2011 23:18:53 GMT 1
Chapter III: The TestMeanwhile, on the other side of the galaxy... A suited man in the dark sits in an unknown space station of his own. Cigarette burning in a holographic ashtray beside him, he leans back to brood over a remarkable view that spans in front of the endless room. The top half of an enigmatic dying star lays suspended in the backdrop of outer space, bottom hemisphere rendered translucent by the floor that goes out a stretching distance and suddenly stops. The star's coming demise is one of the most beauteous deaths that one can witness; it has a rim of aquamarine blue encircling its unfathomably hot surface to gradate into a marvelous orange at the core. There is a purple aura around it that calmly fans out to make the tumultuous event seem to find peace, a timeless testament to the beginning and end of all things. Wherever he is seems to stretch to infinity in every other direction, the only things that keep the strange man company being convoluted orange screens that dart about, none of the two are alike and all brim with information, numbers, data all for motives unclear to the untrained eye. The star outlines him in dimmed sunlight, revealing neatly combed hair windswept backwards atop his gaunt facial features, stony jawline cleanly shaven that leads to a squaring chin. He has an air of intelligence about him, an unmasked sophistication further accentuated by the grays in his hair and the white stippled across his temples. The man slides a few holo panels around and swills another round of liquor from his tumbler, deep in thought, a little more on edge than he should be. He taps his fingers on the armrest of the chair. A tiny button on the right arm of his leather padded seat blinks red. Pressing it, he reads something flashing in front of him and clears his throat. His eyes glow light blue... these distinct artificial eyes that make him apart from anyone else at a single glance. Pressing a few things on the screen out in front of him, a miniature projection of a doctor pops up in blue static between two grooves of the floor. He's old, wearing a lab coat smeared with blood and clearly fervent with anger. The abstruse looking man leans forward to speak first, "Lainhardt, I didn't expect a transmission from you. I assume you made it out alright?" "I'm fine- but this isn't about me, ack-" A wheezing cough takes hold of him before he can finish. "Our two prizes remain in the right hands, I can assure you, Doctor." He inhales his cigarette. "Beauparlant is dead," his raspy and frayed voice had risen from sour to rage-lined and accusatory. "I can't believe you didn't at least tell me about leaking the fucking Alliance our coordinates. The place didn't stand a chance... we're blocked from even knowing what's going on and our response fleet is ten minutes out! We could've lost-" "I am truly sorry for that, but your science and medical directors had advance notice and more than enough time to leave, his own thickheaded behavior got him killed. The guy was an asshole, and I know you hated him all the same. We'll get you another chief geneticist," he ashes his cigarette with a flick of the wrist, "Remember the upsides during times like this, Phil, just think of what we can still achieve with even just two of them. The Four were the best our civilization has to offer... I wanted to see what they’re capable of…" Smoke still wisps from his nose and mouth while he flips through a couple screens again, moving around information with his fingers. "Not good enough, Illusive Man. You put all of our asses on the line.. why?" "Consider it a test. Subjects Aleria and Kal are worth more than everything on Qunsari, you're aware of tha-" The two foot image of the hunched old man cuts him off- "A test?! What kind of test kills six hundred people? Our own people?!" "Yes, a test. Tests have killed millions. After the incident on Eingana they are going to need people to trust, to relate to. The commandos in squads Seven and Eight who make it out will be up for a posting in either of their future teams. They'll be surrounded by the people they fought side by side with from day one, what soldier wouldn't want that?" Doctor Lainhardt curses under his breath and sends a shimmer of static into the room, "Maybe, but that's stretching it. You could just be throwing away trillions of credits, and you're being far too irrational about keeping them separated... what's the use? We both know they're going to come in contact sooner or later, why spend all this time if they can't live up to their-" The Illusive Man abruptly cuts him off, raising his voice slightly- "I don't do anything that my investments can't handle, you understand this by now. They've been through a lot, and after all of their augmentations and cybernetic upgrades- half of which I did not authorize you to do- we don't really know what they're capable of together. We’ve seen the old reports. They could shatter the earth they stand beneath, the very earth they are sworn to protect-" "But they won't, I know that much, especially if they don't live to see a day past that cursed floating deathtrap. Together, their power has the potential to increase tenfold! I've seen it with my own eyes... I was there from the start." He thinks about it for a second. "That makes one of us, I suppose.” He drags on his cigarette again and puts it out, "Still, their true power may be useless with Lewis and Kaelmara gone,” his tone becomes conclusive, “They'll receive extensive psych evaluations when they arrive separately on the Manhattan and follow-ups before their posting on Proteus. We'll talk about it after they land." "If... you insist," he was trying to compose himself from lashing out, "But that girl, Sky. You're putting her up for Chambers' new team... is she really that qualified? Paid distractions are the last thing he's going to need." "She's anything but a distraction. She's the best commando in the entire Cell," he takes a long sip of his newly filled drink and continues coolly, "We will proceed as planned." "Noted," the doctor replies in defeat. He wanted to harness the true potential of the two, and his aspirations wouldn't die out anytime soon, that much was certain. "Then establish an uplink once they are aboard. Make our two heroes feel welcome, and make sure the ACU survivors get special treatment until their leave." After pressing the same button on his chair, the projection vanishes inward into nothing. The Illusive Man produces another cigarette and lights it, mulling over a few puffs while smoke begins to hang in the air once more. He brings up a screen with a tap of his hand and enlarges it. It was a dossier for someone. A young man who has strong but gentle features, the kind eyes of a hero, but behind it there is the experience of an ancient war veteran, the stare of a compassionate soul and a killer of thousands. It takes another look to realize there's something odd about them, but the change seems ambiguous, and then there it is. One eye is brown, the other is purple. He has dark brown hair inches longer than military standards fashioned upwards, an inch of hair lays flat down the beginning of his forehead. A sense of power emanates from this individual: [-][General] Name: Vash Joseph Chambers Status: Active/Recovering Age: 25, born November 6, 2152 Birthplace: New Queensland, Australia Height: 5' 11" Weight: 182 lbs. [+][Updated Psych Report] [-][Combat] Specialization: Leadership skills, Biotic specialist, Infiltration, Melee & CQB Confirmed Kills: 1,012 (1,700 estimated) Completed Assignments: 87 (3 Failed) [+] [Medical Records] A slew of finished missions pop up, a list that could scroll for minutes, ending with the name 'Eingana'. Another dossier comes up beside the first, a gorgeous girl with dreamy green eyes. She has long, precisely layered hair, side bangs of velvety brown that leads to flowing curls near the ends, a very young and delicate face only adds to the notion that she shouldn’t be wearing battle armor: [-][General] Name: Arianna Marzia Romani Status: Active/Recovering Age: 25, born May 18, 2152 Birthplace: Emilia-Romagna, Republic Of Italia Height: 5' 6" Weight: 128 lbs. [+][Updated Psych Report] [-][Combat] Specialization: Recon/Sniper, Intelligence, Biotic Specialist, Hacking Expert Confirmed Kills: 927 (1,100 estimated) Completed Assignments: 84 (3 Failed) [+] [Medical Records]
Again, the same list of missions comes up. The next man who appears with the others is more weathered, a chiseled face that is very fair. A question mark rests above his head. He has buzzed black hair mingled with gray, teased upwards, but he looks very tired, as if he'd seen enough in his life: [-][General] Name: Jacobin Ryan Lewis Status: N/A Age: 31, born August 1, 2146 Birthplace: Lowell City, Mars Height: 5' 9" Weight: 195 lbs. Specialization: Tech Expert, Heavy Weapons, Biotic Specialist, Infiltration, Melee, Counterintelligence Confirmed Kills: 1,330 (2,000 estimated) Completed Assignments: 101(3 Failed, 1 Outstanding) [+] [Medical Records]
The Illusive Man's eyes grow a shade darker as he stares at the picture of him. The last female to come on-screen shares a similar beauty as the first, but down to earth, more Caucasian and not wearing makeup at all. A red 'X' blinks over her face. Fierce yellow eyes can be seen beneath and get brighter near her pupils. Her light brown hair is up in a ponytail, childish features giving her a certain kind of cute edge that might elude some, but she possesses this undeniably wild inner fire: [-][General] Name: Madison Ava Kaelmara Status: Killed In Action Age: 24, born December 17, 2151, died January 9, 2175 Birthplace: Alynia Ward, Citadel Height: 5'3" Weight: 118 lbs. [+][Updated Psych Report] [-][Combat] Specialization: Sabotage, Demolitions, Biotic Specialist, CQB, Tech Expert, Security/Electronic Warfare Specialist Confirmed Kills: 795 (1,250 estimated) Completed Assignments: 81 (3 Failed) [+] [Medical Records]This time there's no mention of the world Eingana, perhaps she died there. Finishing his cigarette, the man closes the screens, crosses one leg over the other, and waits.
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Post by Aldebaran on Sept 4, 2011 5:34:53 GMT 1
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter IV: The Escapist
It turns out I didn’t know the meaning of desperate until our escape plan backfired-
-and for the first time since the fighting started, I felt the paralyzing surge of panic. Decks 10 through 20 were now completely open to space,
our way out was on the 19th floor.
With no one else having a suit fully protecting from exposure except me, I was to split off the group and take maintenance 44b to an elevator shaft that goes down to the pods by myself.
The survivors of CTeam would have to fend for themselves.
Risky, but, I had a feeling this line of business thrives off of uneven odds and unorthodox ways.
* * * *
5:00 minutes remain on mission counter.
A battered O’Halloran enters a password on the outer panel of the disguised maintenance hatch and it promptly slides open, revealing an uncomfortably narrow passage that disappears into black; a stark contrast to the pleasant white halls of the SW22 quad. This sector was a pleasant change of pace from the others, though some of us left bloody footprints to remind us of the destruction we’ve wrought.
"See you soon lad, and nice work out there. Try not to suffocate." Altruis salutes me, Sky makes a waving gesture, and Casz looks like he’s just staring at me- he hasn’t said a word.
"I’ll try not to. Thank you, everyone, for helping me this far, I couldn’t have done it otherwise." I owe them far more than a simple thank you; it feels like all I can muster, but as I motion to go in I stop and turn my head, "I’ll make this up to you," a weak promise that currently holds nothing to support it…
I have nothing to give.
"And remember, lockup the second you reach that elevator shaft. Ping us when you get there."
I’d have about 20 minutes of oxygen in my tanks afterwards. The odds seem to be in my favor.
The seven commandos spread evenly about the hallway and make their way forward with haste, Casz and Sky covering the back, all of them readily accepting their fates. I head into the side passage when a smaller group of Alliance marines come around the far corner ahead of them and open up with automatic weapons… then realize they are outnumbered and run away to regroup somewhere else. A chase ensues.
Instinctively I jump back out of the duct and begin to move towards them when it hits me, this is exactly what you shouldn’t be doing. Don’t be an idiot. I stop, three seconds of precious time slips between by fingers as I stand there for a moment stuck in indecision, and then go back to the shaft. Hundreds of people may have already died for you and whoever else, now isn’t the time to throw away the time that it’s biding. I crouch down and squeeze into the service shaft, moving through as fast as I can with armor that scrapes the sides of the walls as I go. The hatch slides shut behind me and envelopes everything in darkness, away from the whitewashed halls of the science wing.
And just like that, I am alone.
With the light on my helmet and the underslung flashlight on Moroko’s shotgun to guide me, I go down ten meters and round a corner, starting to move past a taller walkway whose left wall is a row of triangular glass windows. There is a divot off to the side where a control terminal rests; a large screen embedded in the wall with translucent panels of orange and blue. It’s online. The second I look at it, something flashes at the bottom of my HUD:
-Syncing to terminal network, unsecure connection-
a
a#
a#43 #a43FF(Override sub%1sid channel)
#a43FF titrating frequency to local parameters~~~~~
Successful.
65390777777^$#%*z(establish#ing up1link777a) #~ damaged[!] hard?ware, unmonitored WI@23777--= filt@ers FAILUREFAILUREFAIL##F.
2.13.77.1341 *recent update, [Typhus?- damag@d#42fh]P] This station shall burn.
1056. Offshore presence&%(detected[@*&d67q8Az]deploying R21 Drone set to scuttle0100000200
1121. Primary shielding fails123sdaSS011110000000000000010100011000000000000100000000000 -initiate backups, online. 1145 Backup $^s*&E@E fails, 1130. …
Compilations of useless data flood my screen for a moment, and then is mostly legible. I pass through the rest of the starlit hall and into a darker shaft.
1200. Unauthorized[?] door release- all levels]000000000100002032400000000000005600000008 From ^9SG!CA8(( inside -activity spike777 ^ SDJWEqW[STARBOARD^MAINFRAME]SWW c
1230. Sectors 67-69 flooded from compression pump KF2e~# 130DRT-33d000400000000050061010 -No reported survivors 00010000001000000011000202010000000000000000000101000000000000100
1238. Sectors 3-20, 36-41, 50-63, 70-75 loss of critical 777life-support 011001000000010
1239. Enemy presence% all levels01000000000000100020100010100000101100060777777777777777 {O!!!!DS – 3~Power fluctuati@n on$277
1240. Casualty est$*Hdw__3ate: 549
//And from as far as the Deloria, they will see its glory. 1301. __Hull damage assessed past emergency threshold12-e: ~EMER333ENCY LO3KDOWN 3INITIATED
-unstable
-unstable
-un#*AD
000000000014HOW000001010CAN00000000324010I0BE0210010100211040INSANE0350300006302005005
>
>
>
>
02000IF02344000000020130020111IM1124000000010NOT7790101000010000000000000501010ALIVE01
*$#~~~ data interrupted~
>Transmission Received<
Hello, Mr. Vash^&@~~e Chambers. I see you are well on your way, I wish I could personally wish you the best of luck- but, you know. A few words of warning though; watch for that asari down there, she might just be your first real challenge. Who knows, maybe she’ll even tell [unknown error] IIII#!sssaF~~[wh?]… maybe not. Either way, enjoy your trip to Callidora! I do hope you brought your sunscreen.
Always watching, Typhus
-End Transmission-**
I had been confused enough up until now; but that was a little fucked up.
Looks like Typhus went crazy after the station was attacked. Oh well, maybe that means I can kill it.
Another hallway, more windows, the interior gloomier than the possible future I face.
I look out through a spotty window I was passing by to realize that this station actually orbits a planet, my vision stimulated at the sight of a pleasant looking world coming into view replete with tropical oceans and stormy hurricanes, swirling with nature’s fury. Well look at that, I could go for a quick vacation anyway.
4:00 minutes remain on mission counter.
Since the comms. are still fried all I can do is listen closely on what is happening outside the quiet maintenance network and trust my nav’s directions. Yelling, clanging, screaming, intermittent explosions- this floor is really tearing itself apart with two minutes left until half of the people here die of exposure. I hoped at least Altruis and his team are doing okay… it was going to take a hell of a lot of perseverance to make it out of here on a dime like that.
Your fault.
Drowning it all out, I slowly make my way through two more lonely corridors and am finally able to stand up again. Getting back up, however, is an arduous task as I grow more and more lethargic, legs burning with lactic acid and fatigue. While halfway down a larger passageway I can barely see something, an anomaly in the dark, an arrow on my nav points straight at it. Swerving the shotgun from side to side, its light hits a doorway leading to something with a circular grated floor-
-the elevator.
The pain and aches vanish, replaced with the energizing presence of hope.
I step in, brightened by the overhead light, and place my gloved index finger on my forearm’s nav screen, the touch display lighting up in its electric blue while a complex list of options appear. I scroll through the ‘systems’ settings, toggle the ‘life-support’ features, and select the option to ‘auto-lock’. A red dot on the lower part of my HUD blinks as my suit makes a hissing sound and depressurizes, fully sealing itself from vacuum. My breathing starts to sound distorted just as the dot turns green. Let’s go.
I flip the switch on the side of the lift and set the number to Deck 19. The hardly functional elevator jerks in response and makes a mechanical whirring sound to mark my descent into the oxygen-deprived darkness of Qunsari Station, green-lit doors flashing by as it glides downward.
25…
* * * *
24…
It was rather fitting that I was alone by the end of it all, making me as distant from everyone else just as physically as mentally. Not to be mistaken- I was pleased that I had almost everyone’s respect; but still well aware that none of CTeam 7 actually knew me as a person. But what does it matter at a time like this?
23…
22…
3:00 minutes remain on mission counter.
Gut clenched the whole way down; I say a silent prayer for those I fought with, the ones who probably wouldn’t make it.
And then I hit the twentieth floor. Not aware that the gradual lack of gravity is stripping the weight from me, I begin to lift off the elevator and into the elevator shaft, the zero g tingles my stomach as I rise. My arms feel so airy even with armor covering every inch of my body, it brings me back to the surging of butterflies I felt while skydiving.
Realizing this could be a real problem; I frantically grab at the air with one hand and wrap my fingers around the side railing, held my shotgun with the other and tried not to fly up into the air. I eventually figure out how to stabilize myself, recapping over O’Halloran’s instructions and activate the gravity-replicator bearings on my boots that ground me to the floor at a standard 1.0 G’s.
I turn off the lights just as the elevator skids to a halt.
There is a strange presence in the room ahead and absolutely no time to waste, so I hurl myself around the corner with my shotgun aimed from the hip and pistol outstretched in the other hand, but the room I stumble upon is nothing like I had pictured it’d be…
Pods line the two intact walls in neat rows, and most seem like they’re online and operable, but what had happened to the room is just a little too difficult to get my head around. Some kind of high-velocity ship weaponry had blown away a huge hole in the right wall; you could see clear through to the other side of the station with jagged walls trailing as far as the eye can see. Debris drifts in zero gravity for miles, how many hundreds of them are corpses I can only speculate. I’d rather not. Over half of the floor is missing a few meters ahead of me. Dirty metal replaced by a gorgeous view of the same world, the far wall is gone in its entirety. Through the twisted remains, nebulae of frosty blue and milky white swirl into each other in a celestial dance- the entire scene from my own eyes was astonishing, bizarre, but had its own elegant beauty. It all threw me off for a second, but then I realized-
I’m not alone.
One of those blue women, enigmatic with an ageless beauty, was leaning against an escape pod and looking right at me. Her skin is faded blue with much less pigment, showing more age than those I had fought at the airlock. She’s covered in a tight black outfit lightly plated in purple and points a pistol at me as I aim my weapons at her- but something keeps me from firing. Maybe I heed to the insane AI-turned-soothsayer’s crazed words, or maybe it’s something else telling me not to, instinct, intuition. She walks towards me.
"I sensed your presence on this station before you even destroyed your room, ‘Subject Kal’," she placed emphasis on that name, "And now I stand face to face with one of the greatest killers the galaxy has ever known." Her voice teems with wisdom and certainty.
I don’t move a muscle.
"Surrender or die, mercenary. This ship’s AI warned me about you, I’m not taking any chances with losing my freedom." I had the firepower and the biotic advantage.
She remains still, so I take a step towards her.
Tapping an ornate silver headdress that follows the crown of her head, my body is suddenly wracked with paralysis. I’m suspended inches off the floor with no hope of moving.
2:00 minutes remain on mission counter
"Oh I know you’ll kill me, that is why I have such strong bio-amp implants… as for your little friend Typhus- he’s gone Rampant, mindlessly killing both sides. Tell me, what is your real name?" I try to compose myself and am surprised when my mouth still moves, but a natural willfulness to reject authority overtakes me,
"Eat shit."
"Let’s make this easy. My name is Astraea Vaarlathia I’Shala, founder and leader of the Adonia Remnant. What is your name? I truly mean you no harm."
Grudgingly, I find reason in her calming words,
"My… my name is Vash Chambers," We are almost face to face now.
"Very good. And what is your middle name?" The words cut me like a deep personal attack. Play along, or kill her and die. What to choose?
"I don’t know."
"I see… excuse me one moment," the mysterious alien woman turns away from me and does something with her comlink, mumbling complete gibberish into her earpiece. My HUD flashes ‘Translation Filters Disabled’.
"Listen here alien-"
She turns back to face me, blazon yellow eyes piercing my pained face,
"No. You are the one who must listen, Vash. Do you realize that you are slaying former comrades, doing battle with old friends? You’re killing the ones you once killed for, how do you justify that?"
I’m swallowed in the sea of guilt that came from the question, and the others who died for me indirectly and otherwise. Reasoning turns into anger,
"Let me go, or I will kill you where you stand, asari-" I suddenly scream in agony as the paralysis revives itself, drilling into my brain with this horrible screeching sound, I feel like all of my bones are slowly being broken at once.
She takes two more steps forward,
"Not quite the answer I was looking for. You know, normally I would not agree to pursue the Alliance’s lost pets, but you are different. You’re an interest for the entire galaxy, and you will learn what’s truly at stake in due time. Now tell me, why are you on Qunsari Station?" It took restraint not to spit in her face.
"I quit the Alliance and joined up with Cerberus. Then I was in an accident, so I’m here now. That’s all you need to know." I covered up my uncertainty with sarcasm, "Why are you here?" Qunsari is now constantly rocking, unstable in its last minutes. The asari isn’t amused,
"I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. However, all you need to know is that I’m here for you and the girl-"
"Who the hell is this girl I keep hearing about?!" I raged with indignation.
"I speak of Arianna, your former squad mate…" She strained to hold me with her biotics and focus on speaking at the same time; I was finally beginning to find subtle gaps in her offense.
1:00 minute remains on mission counter
"And what aren’t you telling me?"
I was ready to break free at any moment.
"I see there is much to say on the matter, but that is not for me to decide. What I will tell you is there is another onboard as well, but he is on the right path in all this, where you two are not. You have been misguided, Chambers; do not let yourself be tricked by evil men and their schemes of power. Do not let yourself become a tool. You speak of freedom? Come with me, and I promise that you-"
I was done hearing it, the redundant information from everyone; the lack of answers. I was leaving. The answers could come after my survival was assured.
Fixating on the last visible lapse in her attack, I break free from the paralyzing grip she holds just enough to get off a quick blast of energy. Something made me hesitate though; it must’ve been the expression on her face when she realized her fate was confined to a floating piece of metal, enough to chill me. Raw fear that made her eyes grow wide. It was the first time I had seen one of her species show emotion aside from their blank war faces and it softened me enough to almost desist from killing her, but it was too late. I let out a shockwave that destroys nearly everything around me and hurls the merc leader into space. At least my chances are better than hers now.
The toll that the telekinetic “push” had on me was horrendous and left me depleted, but adrenaline kept me standing. Cylindrical lifeboats float around the room, free from earthly principles amidst corpses and wreckage. Oops.
I look around the room again as panic rises in my throat. I had destroyed the escape pods.
40 seconds remain on mission counter
Not knowing what else to do, I scan the bay with my nav for any electromagnetic spikes and see two pods tucked into the far end of the left wall, where the light barely reaches. One is dimly flickering, the other fully functional- I run over to them, all the while trying to keep my balance on the shaky floors of the loose cannon station.
Hope. Its inspiring presence drives me once again.
Each pod is designed for a single person: structures of vanilla white that stand twice as wide and much taller than a normal man are snugly anchored in the floor. Each are controlled by local terminals attached on pedestals in front of vertical glass paneling stained opaque green, that runs through the middle of each craft for observation and steering. The sides of the hull bulge out to a set of thrusters and neon green control displays blinks online within.
30 seconds remain on mission counter
I frantically tap into the terminal mounted beside it. My nav lights up and downloads a stream of data:
-Syncing to local terminal- 2.13.77.1150 <Processing...>
Initializing… **Open Lifeboat_S-337 Hatch**
_done.
The pod depressurizes with a hiss and the glass slides up, revealing a darkened interior suited for a high-risk survival situation. I step aboard and while I strap myself in, glass door coming back down into place. I examine the fuselage for an activation switch or something, anything that could get this thing going. Words read across the main screen,
Manual control disengaging… initiating auto-pilot program…
20 seconds remain on mission counter
More hissing sounds rattle beneath me from outside. The lifeboat’s anchors pull away and the tiny vessel lurches forward, then down, very, very slowly…
Another heave backwards and I break out into space.
My muscles melt away. The shadow that hunts me from just over my shoulder dissipates with it. In my stomach, the pleasant sensation of flight swirls about with the flourish of fluttering wings as I stare out through the window that gives me a clear view of the starry frontier. The floor is transparent as well, the entire bottom taken up by the verdant planet below.
Escape.
Fate would take me to the surface, but as I feel the smooth ride accelerate with afterburners, I get the feeling that things are just beginning.
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Post by Aldebaran on Sept 24, 2011 22:12:27 GMT 1
This perspective is written as a screenplay. If you find it disruptive, wait until it comes into play again and if it still doesn't work, I will do something else. Enjoy:)
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V: Thieves In The Night
Minutes previously…
Five floors above the carnage, deck 31 had been tarnished long before they had gotten back, stripped bare and scorched like a ransacked village. Shrugging off exploding debris and falling ceilings, a fledgling Alliance BlackOps team of four makes a beeline towards their ride out of here; a hangar bay on the other side of the station. Led by Captain Kane Corr and Alliance Corsair Jacobin Lewis, this ragtag group of marines must run an entire click in just three minutes back to Hangar 17. The primary objective is out of the question; survival is the next best thing.
[Corr]: “Shit let’s hurry up, 3 on the clock!”
[Lewis]: “Maybe we wouldn’t have bombed this thing so hard if we knew how bad it was built-”
[Liason]: “Enemy contacts!! Starboard ledge!”
[Lewis]: “Pin fire on the two biotics. Singe- suppress!!”
[Corr]: “Reloading..”
[Liason]: “I think one of them ran off!”
[Malchiorre]: “Aw yeah- it’s party time!” The man brandishes a gatling gun and whirls it up, veins in his arms throbbing from its weight.
The Cerberus soldiers above are slowly dispatched one by one
[Corr]: “And… AH!!!… That’s all of em.”
[Lewis]: “Regroup on me, anyone hit?” Silence follows. The golden answer. “Alright. Megs! How’s our escape route looking?”
[Laison- coolly]: “Decent all things considered. Some contacts point four ahead, too far to get a lock right now. Wait a second- I’m getting something. Oh my… I think they might’ve tracked Vash’s location? Sir, he’s on the 26th floor heading downwards. No report of Ari but Chambers is definitely down there. Astraea is going after him as well.”
Even though it was almost certainly too late to reclaim their objective, everyone was still shocked. Lewis’ face went from stained with somberness to alive with intrigue, and Kane was outwardly pleased his old buddy was at least alive, but the moment couldn’t last.
[Lewis- stopping]: “She won’t be able to do a thing, let alone stop him from escaping. We should be the ones-”
[Corr]: “-And have us all die instead? I know it’s hard to think of him on the other team, but come on-”
[Lewis- retaliatory]: “But what? They made their choice, they did their service? Something doesn’t add up and you know it. He and Ari resigned like it was nothing, over things we didn’t even know about…”
[Liason]: “2 on the clock.”
[Corr]: “With all due respect Jaco, you need to accept the reality. We can hunt a rumor and die trying, or live to fight another day. Another day is another chance to get them back to us… don’t you see? This is a realist’s hell. We can’t go chase dreams here.” An assuring support beam falls from the arched ceiling, wiping away an entire platform before scraping its way to the floor. “Two minutes.”
[Lewis –grudgingly]: “Fine. We need to be alive to find out the truth anyway, but under one condition-”
[Corr]: “Shoot.”
[Lewis]: “This one’s on you.”
[Corr]: “Fair enough. Don’t think I don’t know how close you two were..” They continue moving down the structurally unstable vestibule, dogged but still breathing.
[Lewis]: “I shouldn’t be close to anyone. The people around me always end up hurt or… heh, dead.”
[Corr]: “Jaco come on that was not your fault-”
[Lewis- pained]: “I saw it coming. I could’ve told her to move. But I was too scared to lose her, I fucked up and did anyway.” He chokes back a well of tears, holding in all the emotions tied to them.
[Corr]: “But I’m still here, we all are. That should count for something. You may not have the Four to be there for you, but you know there are a lot of people out there that still care, in the Fleet alone.”
[Lewis]: “It does and you’re right Kane, I just-”
[Corr]: “It’s okay. There’s no need to explain. Besides you said it yourself- there’s something strange going on here, right? Let’s find out. We got tricked this time… we’re not getting fucked over again.”
[Lewis- sighing]: “I’m game for that, Captain.”
[Corr]: “Then we’ll sort things out when we get back to Arcturus. You did good today, there’s no reason to be hard on yourself.”
Moments later, 0.2 clicks from Hangar 17…
[Lewis]: “Megan, status report.”
[Liason]: “Looks like I got red on those AP’s. They’re headed straight for us, sir.”
[Lewis]: “Numbers?”
[Liason]: “Um… Seven in all- wait never mind- two just branched off and took a lift up, five positive enemy ids.”
[Corr]: “If they’re trying to steal our ship…”
[Lewis]: We’ll kill them before they can even think of it.”
[Corr]: “Says the man who’s too tired to even throw a slam!”
[Lewis- lightening up]: “Says the guy who couldn’t even lift a pebble with his mind! Hah! Besides, I kicked your ass today.”
[Corr- smirking]: “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everyone’s a fucking critic, we’ll see about that during debrief if we even have one. Seriously, they steal our ship, what would we possibly do?”
[Lewis]: “Steal it back.”
[Corr]: “Touché. I guess that’s why you’re the Corsair.”
They reach the second to last hall
[Lewis]: “Form up, portside tactical, weapons free all the way.”
[Liason]: “Enemies just 3 halls down.”
[Corr]: “Okay, Singe, you’re up. Megan’s got rear flank.”
[Malchiorre]: “Taking Point.”
[Lewis]: “Kill anything that moves… clear!”
The BlackOps squad enters the last hallway only to find no one, except a flicker of movement going around the corner into another room marked bay 17. So quick if you blinked you’d miss it.
[Malchiorre]: “I think I saw.. I did- I saw orange! They’re jackin’ our shit let’s fuck em up!!”
[Liason]: “That’s them.”
[Corr]: “I knew this would happen…”
[Lewis]: “Wait, wait.” There is a pause while he thinks. “It’ll take them a minute to hack their way onto the ship." He studies his nav for a second. "Malchiorre, Liason, take that access shaft over there and flank them on my signal. Corr and I will hit the front.”
[Liason]: “Understood, sir.”
[Malchiorre]: “Righto.”
[Lewis]: “Now let’s pray none of them can fly…” Megan opens the side tunnel with a kick as Jaco and Kane glide towards the doors, pressing their backs up against the walls.
In position
[comm. Lewis]: “Okay, mark. Ready up.” Four green rectangles on his hud momentarily blink on.
[Corr]: “Well, this is going to be interesting.”
[Lewis]: “After you.”
Kane procures a syringe from a pouch on his belt, a combat stimulant, and slips the thin needle through a crack in his blue armor plating. Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly exhales while withdrawing the instrument from his neck and discards it. Hefts his lancer and peeks around the corner, then back in. He says a silent prayer, for whom, for what god is uncertain, and hurls himself into the hangar with his finger on the trigger. Jaco shakes his head in disdain, calls for open engagement and runs right out behind him. At this point he’s trying to draw some enemy fire to save not only Kane, but himself. He knew him too well not to.
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Post by Aldebaran on Nov 6, 2011 23:06:12 GMT 1
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Chapter VI: Green Eyes
Crash.
The intensity of it had enough inertia to rip me out of my “seat” and smash my face into the stained glass, cracking the fuselage and knocking me out cold.. so much for asking for a helmet with good pads.
Seconds later…
Wake up, you are not safe here.
My head comes back up, bouncing off the control console while I snap to attention. First fear being that I’m a thousand feet below sea level, a flutter of relief graces my insides while the only blue I can see through my broken visor is the glare of the sky. Everything is still. It seems like I’d crashed through the tree-line of an overgrown jungle, actually fairly above sea level and on stable terrain.
Freedom.
I ignore the previous warning, not having any invoking gut feeling to do otherwise and rip my beaten helmet from my head. I’m not safe anywhere now. The feeling of sweat instantly evaporating off me relieves in itself, and for a stretch of moments I simply lay back and relax with an empty mind, the pod’s power supply going to standby. I don’t move a muscle, taking spiritually cleansing breaths of “fresh” air. Breathing real oxygen and not some stale crap from a recycled filter is enlightening in comparison. For a time I argue moving, tortured by the muse of having to eventually, outrunning an exploding space station tends to wear you down.
Then I realize how dehydrated I feel. My mouth sticky with thirst, I rife through the compartments and pouches on my gear and find my thermocanteen. I hope whatever’s in here hasn’t been in that heap of metal longer than I have. I open the circular container and put the lid to my lips, tasting the heavenly tastelessness of pure water. It’s still cold. Well played Cerberus… But the water leaves an emptiness only a good meal can cure.
Flipping through the rest of my kit’s containers, I come across a vacuum-sealed power bar in a plain white wrapper labeled ‘Breakfast’. I laugh to myself and check my nav’s clock: 1:25 pm.
Fuck it…
As I unwrap it I start to get down to the second order of business; where in god’s name am I? Navigating my way through the endless array of options on the screen on my forearm, I hit ‘Codex’, ‘Current Planet’. A loading screen pops up. As I chew I can only muse- we get this far in the galaxy, but there’s things we’ll always have to deal with I guess, like shitty military food, loading screens, and crazy aliens trying to kill you. I couldn't wait to find out the rest.
I chase the last bite with another swig of water and pour the rest over my head. The data downloads:
>Streaming data from online flash matrix…
_done.
Planet: Callidora
**Oxygen-based Life Inhabitable**
Orbital Distance: 2.7 AU Orbital Period: 3.4 Earth Years Keplerian Ratio: 1 Radius: 4,953 km Day Length: 19.8 Earth Hours Atm. Pressure: 0.8 atm Surface Temp: 30 Degrees Celsius Surface Gravity: 0.9 g Mass: 1.1 Earth Mass Satellites: 2
Travel advisory: Civilians are discouraged from landing on Callidora as lack of a proper magnetosphere prevents most forms of starside or interstellar communication. There are also very aggressive forms of local fauna that will kill over territory, and constant rainstorms due to its overactive hydrosphere can easily produce level 7 hurricanes, proving unprofitable for colonization and as a result many forms of wildlife remain undiscovered. If venturing onto the planet it is advised to stay to the shoreline during the drought season, and armed parties are strongly encouraged.
>More options >Exit Logging out…
This is turning into quite the vacation after all. Sure beats getting herded around through a slaughterhouse…
Next I check my weapons, clearing my pistol, but the shotgun wont budge when I try to prime the weapon systems. That settles it, I’m fucking cursed, I open up the firing mechanism only to notice that most parts had gone haywire- and don’t have a clue what to do about it, so I lock it back up across my back.
One thing I didn’t notice before was my nav pinging itself every so often. A different tab had opened up at the top called ‘E-52 MkIV Lifeboat’, proposing that my suit had synced to the pod’s network. Damn they don’t mess around do they? The first option depressurizes the pod, makes a bunch of sound, and shoots the hatch a hundred miles an hour at the palm tree in front of it.
Almost immediately a gentle breeze enters and wraps itself around me, kissing the sweat from my face. Drawing me out with invisible fingers of new things. Before leaving for good, I tear the internal interface from my helmet and slide out the viewfinder. Turning it in my hands a few times, I fit the mesh straps around my head as the visor plinks on. The orange tint of the screen covering my eye offers a clean HUD display with all the functionalities of my helmet, minus the protection of course, and my right eye is left exposed to the elements. Ready to conclude this high stakes cat and mouse, I climb out, dust settling as my boots firmly dig into a gouged out dirt abrasion trailing the lifepod.
It felt so… real. The sun on my face, real sunlight. Almost like my body was hungering for it for years.
Years.
I forced my eyes to stay open despite how much it hurt. To be honest, I did it for the view. But if I’ve learned one thing by now it’s that nothing, no matter how big or small, can last. As I looked out over the bluff and across the coast of white sand, soaking up information with my exhaustion stifled senses, I felt the exciting flare of danger darken my vision. Power.
And there is that same presence again, just like when the AI had me drugged. It throws my caution off guard and my mind continues to wander- the silent jungle with its strange plant life, the pinkish tint to the grass riding the same tropical wind as a predator’s cry in the distance. I smell the salt of the ocean, the sweet of the air, the innocence of nature.
So beauty does exist.
Before I can fully make sense of everything around me I’m smashed in the back of the head with a loud zzzZZZZZzz! The pressing of a blade glancing off the back of my headpiece sends me face first into the fine silted dirt. I knew whatever had hit me was anything but human.
Shield System One failed, charging emergency backup. Two charges left.
I pounce back up with ease, my surroundings snapping into an unreal focus. Energy flows through my fingers to face my attacker- though my muscles shudder at the sight of a hulking alien much larger than me, armored to the teeth, lizard-like with scaled skin and an ornately plated headdress that seemed to be part of its head. Beady black eyes imprint my mind with the face of a killer. In its hands an oversized lancer whirs with the indignation of an electric bayonet, increasing in pitch as a twisted grin appears on its face. Its voice is guttural and savage,
“You killed Astraea, now I no longer have to play by the rules. You die here, Vash.” He spat my name out like venom tainting his lips.
That thing’s long enough to cook you on, are you gonna let him take you down like that?
It was that girl’s voice again.
The encouragement is emboldening, or was it a hallucination? At least it gave me the will to fight.
I hurl a massive wave of harnessed biotics at it, but the energy dissipates into thin air. Another only stops him from moving towards me.
“You bring more shame to my clan than to your own name. HUMAN FILTH!”
Oh and it looks like he’s not dumb either, better think fast, Vash. He Bloodrage’s; you die.
With two motions I unsheathe my pistol and shotgun just in time to counter the second blow. A shower of sparks and the crisscross block bends the shotgun at a 45degree angle. I drop it and flip the safety on my pistol to unload a clip straight at his head- not the easiest target to miss, but it only dents his shields. I reload and hold down the trigger, breaking through the first layer. He grunts and lunges forward. Thrusts the loud blade just past my head as I weave my way around his attacks. My stomach rises with panic; I might really be fucked now. After all this meaningless killing, is that really all that’s left.. to be killed all the same?
There were no more grenades on my belt, no thermal clips to cushion my ego. No squadmates at my back or flashy guns. It was up to me to stay alive.
Don’t face that vibroblade head on. Be intuitive.
Concentrating on the tip of the bayonet, I dodge the next few swings without trouble, the beast’s eyes giving him away. Old training taught me fluidity in this kind of situation- anticipating one full step ahead of the enemy and size no longer matters. But his armor is too thick to break through with my hands, and eventually I catch a swipe to the ribs that cuts straight through my suit. I buckle for a second, just long enough for the alien to hook me in the side of the head with the hilt of his rifle. It put me on the ground again, wind leaving my lungs…
Auto-injecting thoracic 15791.b Omni-gel treatment. Powering up final charge.
Try not to move, will ya?
I look up at the clouds. The silhouette of the behemoth towering over with its raised weapon. For some reason I unwittingly trust her voice, l let myself be filled with that old feeling. None of this might exist, but I didn’t move a muscle.
The final blow comes down hard- but halfway it falters as the crack of a sniper thunders to my left,
Good boy.
Poooooooooosh! The first shot burns through the shields and he loses balance,
The second knocks out the bottom half of his face, spinning him around like a decorated fountain, shaking the ground beneath me with its gurgling collapse into the grass.
Getting back on my feet I scour the source of the shots, hud zoom on 200. Could that be Team Seven? Or is it- immediately I lock my sights on someone crouched down on the other side of the adjacent stream, completely unsure of who my guardian could possibly be. At 400% I could begin to focus on the person more clearly. Human. Was it a- she? The light of the powerful afternoon sun glints off her brown hair, far past any military standard, it flows down in front of one shoulder over a gray war suit. She lowers her weapon-
I froze. But something awoke deep inside of me. Something that was truly real.
I remember snow drifts and arctic winds, the flash of her smile, her eyes…
I’d recognize eyes like that anywhere…
I’ve seen them in my sleep for two years. After that, only one word comes to mind-
Arianna.
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Post by Aldebaran on Feb 13, 2012 1:21:37 GMT 1
Striking green eyes make my gaze pale in comparison as I gawk at my old companion, mouth agape. A myriad of emotions zigzag through me; I have a million questions, no answers. I can almost feel the cold of the dreamscape in which my mind has her locked, see the snowflakes that didn’t actually fall.
It looks like a smile of recognition flicks across her face until it vanishes into…
Fearfulness?
And why does she look scared? Like a frightened animal… it’s as if she saw a ghost.
But before I even have an afterthought on it she disappears into a static blur towards the coast. I survey the area around me only to realize the only way to go, is down.
Lose her now and you might never see her again. There is one thing on my mind, one choice I am left with, and it’s a rather childish one.
Chase her.
* * * *
The altimeter reads 64 ft. above sea level. Easy.
I take a few steps back towards the bizarrely exotic rainforest and stretch my legs in preparation to clear the bluff; a straight drop down to the white sand beach below, and would probably cushion my legs more than the suspension in my armor. Biotics guarantee my safety entirely. Inhaling deeply I dive off the flat, the vista casting a scene of mountainous islands, strange blue waters and sunbaked sands across my motion-blurred vision. The rush of a warm saltwater breeze rushes up past me with my stomach.
Curling up in a ball to spin back to where my feet would touch the ground, I let momentum carry me until about 10 feet, open up my hands on either side of me, and send a gust of wind downward to buffer my descent. I land a little too forward, but fine all the same. Now it’s time to be quick...
Studying the sands stretching in both directions was difficult and blinding, but within seconds I could make out a set of fresh footprints where the water hits. She’s obviously taking the north coast. Playing games, are we? I mean why make it obvious? I begin pursuit, wary of what this girl could possibly have up her sleeve.
The sand is deep and loose under my feet, virtually impossible to sprint, so I start towards the wet sand to get friction. At last my sore legs move as fast as they can. A hundred feet or so ahead of me and she finally materializes, running quick, yet I can see she’s gone through the same hell I have.
She’s probably biotic too. No telling how this’ll turn out…
With both hands I send a telekinetic burst at her, drawing on a strangely bolstered energy pool. It distorts the space around it as the force impacts her from the back, but then something I haven’t seen before happens - she catches it just as it hits her and shrugs it off with her own abilities. Through clouds of sand I can see her throw something similar back at me. Careful not to get hit, I leap into the air mid-sprint and aim once more at the sand, launching myself in the air high enough to clear five of them, drop to a tight landing, and it continues.
Waves lapped against our feet while the chase took us up the entire strand. Out of the gate I slowly started to gain on her, but it was when I used my biotics to push and pull her simultaneously that she stumbled and I gained an edge. The distance was closed by half.
I send another shot her way. Again, she readily deflects it, except this time it fans out towards the ocean, partially sweeps the tide back out to sea, and creates the makings of a tidal wave amidst the cyan colored waters. She outruns it. I, on the other hand, don’t look so lucky, the bulge turning into a towering wave as it gains an alarming amount of momentum.
Great.
Within a second it’s right over my head, casting a shadow under the energetic high-noon sun. Having no time for thought, I boost myself just enough to skim over the top of the four meter high crest and meet a grim fate- more water. Headed right at me from the girl’s direction, I can do nothing but meet it head on, falling backwards into the crashing wave below. Right before the wild forces of the current take me, I see two large ships directly above, lighting each other up with cannons, one is winning… I am consumed by a roaring splash.
Warm water forces its way through every cavity on my face and every nook in my armor. My laceration burns with the sting of saltwater. I close my mouth and eyes. The unstoppable wave brings me inland, finally breaks, and sucks me straight into the ground further up the beach. The power of the riptide leaves me gasping for air as it recedes, violated and cold on the saturated beach I stagger to my feet again, focused on the bouncing hair of my former teammate. I’ve lost ground, but am far from losing.
She could be testing me, or leading me to my death. Either way this is kind of fun compared to getting my ass thrown around by a fucked up looking alien. No questions there. The real questions are with Arianna and she - or at least someone up the chain of command - will have answers.....
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Post by Aldebaran on Mar 6, 2012 1:26:01 GMT 1
The wind drying sand smeared across my face gets colder. I see storm clouds gather to the west.
Over a mile up the coast now and the air pressure drops, lowering the temperature by at least twenty degrees. The clouds grow tall and billow outward, fusillades of black; vibrant with ceaseless tendrils of electricity they darken the edges of the horizon. Just the thought of what would happen if the storm hit us spurs me enough to start catching up to her. Then a sight grabs me from the corner of my eye - erupting from the clouds comes a small starship, mostly on fire from atmosphere reentry. The blue-silver triangle in the distance streaks erratically across the sky, damaged far beyond rational repair, and disappears behind the adjacent island’s mountain range.
My foot catches something metallic and I almost trip over - a piece of kit? I look up at the girl again, who is stripping off the armor of her suit as she sprints adroitly through ankle deep water. Crafty, but not enough to win. She looks back at me, clad now in a matted skin-tight undermesh, and gives a look not of irritation as I had anticipated, but of uncertain inquiry.. like she’s trying to figure out who I am. Trudging me back into my unconscious reality. Ah, so it is a test. She’s trying to figure out who I am through action instead of words.. I like her already. I think to myself what our relationship would’ve been like amidst dodging shiny bits of plating tossed about.
The beach narrows as we round the northern part of the island and into a grandiose view - a massive crashed ship perpendicular to the shoreline, half buried and long since dead it juts out from the sand and into the jungle. The alien designed ship towers in dereliction over the shore like a beached sea creature, full of sadness and decay though spotless from Callidora’s unpredictable weather. The pre-millennium paintjob is pitted and scratched into an unrecognizable color beneath tangles of wires and internal components that hang out of every side, but exposed areas reveal a clean inside.
Less than a hundred meters away and Arianna hadn’t changed direction. In fact, she was headed straight towards it and was easily her intention, since I was closing on her to about throwing distance. Even smarter why not just lose me in an alien fucking spaceship. After being cloistered on Qunsari the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of space, the first thing being to avoid that ship.
But she goes straight in. The ephemeral glow of biotics helps her up to a blown out spot on the exterior.
Then it was my turn. In a series of smaller jumps, I dashed along an equivocal looking ledge, up onto the blackened opening and inside. The visuals on my visor started bugging, forcing me to discard it without hope of night vision. Tensing with what I thought was preparedness couldn’t get me ready for what this ancient relic looked like on the inside. Though entering was difficult due to the slant of the ship, I came into an abnormally wide hallway, stiflingly dark and arcane - a feeling that this vessel was older than the planet itself held me still for the slightest moment. Everything is warm to the touch. Polygonal inscriptions on the wall glowed alien neon above blue lines that served as the only guide of where I was going.
As the ambience of a planet alive and vibrant gave way to the dead creaks of a forgotten starship, my ears slowly honed in on other sounds piercing the black. With the gravity sims on my boots on, I kept chase to the sound of wet boots on metal as the world evened out again.
We clanged through the ship’s underbelly to the rhythm of dripping water and the repetitive lull of waves beating against the aft hull. A complete maze to begin with, Arianna had gotten more slippery this time by sealing doors behind her and leaving well placed stun grenades on timers. Yet still I got closer, blowing through her barricades and deflecting the ‘nades with ease. I thrived off the energy I had since crashing here. Could it be something in the water?
From what I could tell, there was no access to other floors, but the deeper we got the more it was crammed with lifeless tech- at least mostly lifeless- I wondered as I passed by a screen imbedded in the wall flicking on and off. Wires of different sizes and colors drooped from the bottom. There’s no way this ship still has any function by itself…
It turned on again, showing an emblem of fanned wings and an alien’s skull, all coalesced into a symbol of subjective importance. There were finer details and cryptic writing, but there was no time. The dusty monitor’s flicker led me down the rest of the walkway.
The weakening light briefly illuminated the inscrutible corridor, all a shade which looked just like dried blood. This isn’t right at all. Goose bumps rose with a shiver up my spine. I called out to her, running faster now, but the only response was a rusty groan from the ancient spacecraft…
And then, the lights turned on.
It was quick- blink of an eye quick - but the things I bore witness to would last longer than that. I had arrived at the foothold of a vast room, something like an alien engineered mausoleum, but covered with the same eerie red. The warm colored lights reveal a reprehensible discovery; it was blood, an indescribable stretched tapestry of dismembered bodies and limbs covered everything except the floor for hundreds of feet. Before the lights turned off again I could see the interior’s original color beneath the surface, what have you gotten us into girl?
The antiquated ship came to life at that moment, like our presence had usurped something dangerous- whatever sleeping giant had done this. It wasn’t because of us though; the lights must have had triggered through the whole ship, and when they turned off was when I felt a fear worse than outrunning a self-destruct sequence, a pathological AI, or even panicking when my memory was gone. It was worse than anything yet.
There is loud banging through the entire ship. Screeching. Hundreds of footsteps…
Oh no no no no, screw this shit! I gasp for air, now thin and sparse, desperately sucking it into my lungs.
Arianna’s footsteps now go unheard while the cacophony grows louder, closer; it sounded as if they have one thing in mind- us. I wanted to cry out. To make the stream of endless bullshit stop right there, but the sound drowns out everything including my thoughts. In a last ditch effort I start attempting to tear off pieces of armor. I can’t get past the first shoulder pauldron.
Don’t get lost Vash! Are you scared yet? Her endearing laugh echoes through my subconscious.
How the hell do you talk to me like that?! Of course there was no answer. I was talking to myself.
Further down I see hints of light. Sunlight. I brush around a corner to find tiny rays of orange pinhole through the ship’s beaten skeleton, and ahead it washes over desecrated walls to show signs of an exit. Don’t slow down now. I can hear the sentient beings grow dangerously close, hear them scrape and maw their way through the shadows that I passed just moments before. A push with my biotics seems to send them back enough to outrun them.
The next corridor is dark, but I hear wind, and then-
-Not knowing she’s in front of me, a blast knocks out the far wall. Her sunlit silhouette runs and jumps through. Seconds later I too hurl myself out of the gnarled opening and outside. I breathe the ecstasy of bountiful air as I fall down to a thruster extruding from the side of the ship. Keeping my arms out for balance I sprint across it and down to the silted beach. The oxygen flowing through me makes me feel like I can keep going forever… but something is amiss... and then I notice it-
The storm was nearly upon us, a scape of cloud shelves ebbed out once blinding daytime light.
With Arianna unfazed by the changing weather and still forced to squint as I run, I look up at the sky where the ships used to be to find only one cruiser slowly navigating through the other’s debris field. That better be us. I glance back behind me at the abandoned starship to the relief that no freakish creatures followed suit.
But then, just up the coast, she cuts chase all of a sudden. With her back to me she turns her head,
“Stop.”
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Post by Aldebaran on Mar 29, 2012 6:54:05 GMT 1
I come up on her faster than intended and screech to a halt. My feet grind through wet sand to stop,
“Hey… Arianna…!” I half yell through my fitful wheezing, leaned over, hands on knees for support, “I know we have to get off this planet but I wanted to at least thank you fo-”
“Who are you?” She cuts me off, her voice ringing as she spins to face me, ringing as true as the dream yet lacks the charm and passion. Her hair settles perfectly down her face save for the tugging wind,
“Wait.. you mean you don’t know? Weren’t you just talking to me somehow?” What the hell? I frantically thought, anxious and exasperated.
She unclips a sidearm at her waist and aims it at me before it even finishes charging up.
Fuck.
“No, I wasn’t. Who are you.”
An attempt at amiability is crushed by the chill of her voice. She is no longer asking. I take two steps back while reaching for my own guns…
Broken guns. What the hell… I find myself backed into a corner for the first time, on some island as spacious as any place and my hands are in the air like a prisoner in his final moments. She’s changed.
“Woah, easy! Easy! There’s no need for that…” I vainly try diffusing the situation.
She glares coldly at me. Piercing, vivacious, it brings goose bumps to the surface of my skin,
“Vash Chambers; Cerberus, ex-Alliance. Some people on the station called me ‘Subject Kal’. Ring a bell?”
Her body language shifts, her eyes flutter.
“You.. I thought you were dead…” Her voice gained warmth in its cool edge, then fades.
“Err, not exactly. Just indisposed for two years.”
Her hold on the pistol falters for a moment,
“No way. I watched you fall… the dreadnaught blew you both right off the arcology. There’s no way you survived that…” She appears deep in thought, only if you looked hard enough does it look like she’s trying to convince herself. She hides it perfectly.
I gather the right words before I speak,
“Look, I can’t make you believe me. Because I don’t remember what happened. Anything. That’s why I chased you; you’re the only person I’ve been able to recognize.”
“What were you doing on Qunsari?” Troubled, she dodges what I said, and I sigh under my breath. Sick and tired of answering questions I didn’t know real answers to,
“Fighting for my life since eleven-hundred, should I ask you the same d-”
“You were recovering then?”
“If you want to call it that, yes, until we got bent over backwards. An AI woke me up and let me go.”
Her eyes narrow a little, but ours do not leave each other’s during the entire conversation,
“I will. And as far as what transpired, Cerberus did not lose,” her hold on the pistol loosens as she speaks, “The Adonia Remnant took the most losses- the coalition failed at their main objective. Us.”
I grunt disapprovingly, lamenting on battles come and past. Massacres like that don’t have a winning side and a losing side. At some point, everyone loses.
“You call that a victory?” I challenge.
A crack of thunder booms from an unseen area of the heavens not far off,
“Yes.” Her dangerous appeal and chilly calenture reserves me from a wry comment, but at the same time I can see it- the truth in my words had found her.
She lowers the gun and holsters it,
“We need to leave.” A transparent yellow-orange device springs up to engulf her entire right forearm, using her other hand she manipulates streams of compiling holographic data.
“And how do we do that? I still have questions, you know..”
“I’m sure you do.”
This is fucking hopeless. I become more and more discouraged and look out to the sea and the darkening horizon, withdrawn from my previous intention of answers and reunion.
“I routed a signal to my warsuit after the distress beacon on the pods went dark,” she looks up at the sky, then back down at the brazen device, all business. “Someone or something bled out the shelled frequency, and was smart enough to cover their tracks.”
“Meaning…”
“Meaning this was an inside job.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I am.” She looks out to sea as well- a bathetic view serves her cold voice patronly, begging to be absolved in it.
“So… who is it?”
She looks up at me, the soft yellow glowing of her tech device casts shadows up her face,
“How do I know you aren’t the mole?”
“Because you didn’t shoot me.”
“But I will,” her eyes narrow again, “I saw you back there. You’re completely untrained. Talented, maybe, still I could’ve killed you any way I wanted…” with that same expression she sarcastically smiles.
Is that so? Charming,” man she’s a bitch, I wish I could tell it to her face without catching a bullet between the eyes. “We should test that theory later on.” I raise my eyebrow at her, another square punch to the pissing contest, but she isn’t even paying attention anymore. A silence scrapes by,
“I think I know who you’re looking for.”
“Oh?” She says, bemused. A mist starts to swirl in the humidifying air, covering armor in sheens of wet, dancing off our faces,
“That AI I mentioned earlier, he’s up to something.”
“You really are dumber than you look, agent Chambers.”
“He’s insane.”
She immediately darts a look at me,
“Typhus is rampant?”
“Sure,” I reply. I had no idea what the hell that meant, “Is there any way he got off the station?”
“If he’s gone rogue he’s easily on the other end of the spiral arm by now.”
“Isn’t that nice,” As I say it, I can barely spot two distant objects on the horizon. The heat bends and warps their winged frames. Black ships, small, likely dropped from the massive cruiser that faded into obscurity. “At least we won’t die swimming.”
“They got it,” her face finally lightens up.
*
The sand was still quite warm despite the hazed out sun. My muscles turn into liquid the moment my ass hit the beach, throbs of lactic acid wearing off as I’m overcome with the urge to just do nothing. I sprawl out in the white sand, let it cover my hands and boots.
Clouds layered into giant conglomerates of gray surround the large island, filled to burst.
Finally rain. It’s sweet on my tongue.
Eventually, though, the downtime allows emotion to get the better of me. I was expecting the encounter would give my life some substance, even shed some light on the past, if not comfort me in the slightest. It does the opposite. It’s as if I’m led from one trap to another, tested every footstep for the credibility I seemed to once have. And now someone I could fondly remember as a companion-in-arms is transcendentally someone different than my mind wanted them to be. I guess I bumped my head pretty fucking hard.
Mulling over my canteen, I reason that things will smooth over once I’m off-world, just a few more minutes. Then a thought pops into my head.
I shift in my armor,
“Who died?”
“What?” She’s holding her lit arm up- an insanely bright light shines from her hand.
“On that mission; you said ‘both of us’ fell. They died, didn’t they?”
She says nothing.
“Who was it?”
She hesitates to give a reply, turning the light off.
“Madison Kaelmara,” she gazes out at the muddying water and into the past, “She fell in the same explosion you did. Lewis and I were next…” I can see her eyes sadden, the same endearing eyes I remember, “… We didn’t have a chance. Aroai arrived, storied rumors turned real right in front of us. Then it was over.”
“Aroai?”
She murmurs an “mmm” in affirmation.
“Who’s that?”
“I’m not getting into it. Ask-” Right then, with no prior warning, a man strapped in arms and armor comes bounding out of the jungle’s tree-line, backpedaling, just up the beachhead. Two uniquely different pistols are in his hands as he shouts and hoots at an unseen enemy; I should’ve known who he was-
-Balley O’Halloran.
“…your OA…” she trails off.
The fact that he’s still alive empowers me again, giving me confidence that this wasn’t all for nothing,
“Balley!” I yell to him and wave with greeting, on my feet.
He looks back for a second and sees us. Shouts something unintelligible and looks wearily to the jungle again, he’s squaring off an opponent. Who?
“He’s insane.”
I hear something- she does too and reaches for the sniper locked up on her back…
… Repeated dull thuds begin to shake the earth until it becomes loud and powerful. Thick branches snapping, leaves rustling. Heavy grunting. Whatever beast or machination that is charging through the jungle parts the last layer of brush and breaks out onto the beach.
I freeze partly out of awe, partly out of terror.
It’s fucking huge…. a scaled creature with thick pockmarked skin. Single menacing horn crowning the arch of its plated head, its once sumptuous armor plating is burned through and mangled, yet it rushes Balley as if it were fine.
He fires his pistols in flawless succession, balancing firepower and cooling time. The distance closes. One of his guns overheats. It’s just meters away now, and O’Halloran doesn’t give an inch, his offhand pistol burns hot with protest. Their forms collide as he sidesteps the fatal charge, catches part of the horn with his shoulder and meanwhile melts the thing’s face.
“But he’d give biotics like us one hell of a show,” I say to her previous comment, the beast crashing into the fine sand. Its head a smoking ruin of metal-seared flesh. He killed it before Arianna even had a clear shot.
Balley collapses.
We run further in, past the corpse and peer over him. His eyes are closed. My stomach knots up, I fear the worst.
He opens his eyes wide and bursts into energetic laughter.
“Did ye see that?!” he proudly exclaims, sitting back up, “an actual Great Sumatran! An honor…”
He stands to his feet, noticing the girl, and shifts tones to compose himself,
“Ah, Miss Romani, I had no doubt you would escape without even a scratch,” He awkwardly half-bows at her and smiles, maintaining his idea of perfect English.
“Nice to see you’re okay, agent O’Halloran.”
What, so she’ll be nice to him but treats me like shit? There had to be more to it.
“Ay’, got me a bit of jungle fever though. Glad ye made it Vash!!!” He raises his voice, facing me. He pats me on the shoulder, laughing some more like this was a vacation, “Quite the weather we’re having, ay’?” He’s much more worse for wear than he was thirty minutes ago, but still as crazy.
“You too, Balley. How’s the rest of Team Seven?”
“Lev was still crackin’ the whip when we parted ways, and everyone was still alive,” he bends down and picks up the pistol that overheated, “I went with Casz to secure the last known pod room incase hijacking the ship went fubar, but there were only three left. A bloody krogan took the last down, can you believe it?!”
Ari gives a trenchant chuckle at the comment.
“Anyway, the rest of ‘m headed towards 31, after that we lost comms for good.”
“Why there?”
“They had the bright idea of commandeering an Alliance starship with an FTL drive and leaving the system. Can’t be sure if that worked or not, eh?” O’Halloran takes a huge swill from his canteen.
“We can hope.”
The ships finally arrive, combat equipped troop transport. Soldiers stand in the open bays.
Yes. Descending down in a sandstorm, the three of us run for them as the warm rain beats down on us.
“Just got word, laddy! Team Seven has crashed planet-side about thirteen clicks south! Multiple vital signs,” a similar translucent device to Arianna’s wreathes his arm while he runs.
“Let’s take these shuttles and get them then-”
I grab a commando’s hand and hoist myself up onto the closest hovering drop-ship. Passing soldiers salute us, Arianna gets on next.
The agent doesn’t board,
“Negative, Vash. You need to get outta ‘ere! Illusive Man’s orders, not mine,”
It was the second time I wanted to help out the ones who gave it all for me, but know that I can’t.
Someday.
“Understood.”
“I know lad, it’s hard not to seek out the action. If it were up to me, we’d be knee deep in alien blood on their own ship, end it before this mess even started. Ay, later on,” he salutes me, “Ya did exceptional, kid. Almost made me jealous!! I’ll buy ye a drink when we’re on the Manhattan together.”
Other Cerberus operatives disembark onto the beach as I salute back.
O’Halloran draws his weapons and changes the fire settings with his thumbs, violently pounds his chest plate with their hilts, and takes off towards the other ship, leaving me with Arianna and another masked commando.
The engines of the Raven shift and whir louder, higher. With grace it lifts into the air but I still have to reach for the railing above. That storm is really picking up now. If they don’t get Seven quickly they won’t last long… How many of them are even alive?
And so the last escape concludes bittersweet- echoing through the massing hurricane, the distant tropical forests bending in its torrent, the ominous sky, and between the six seat gap between me and her. Those I fought with fates are no longer certain, and neither is my own future…
But I am alive, and at the end of it- that’s all I need. The bay’s hatches slide shut on both sides. We’re enveloped in darkness now, except for transparent screens in all shades of blue that faintly outline her.
I strap myself in, rest my head back in my seat near the window, and nod off.
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Post by Aldebaran on Apr 30, 2012 0:14:01 GMT 1
Hey everyone. I know my production rate for this fanfic is starting to really slow down, but I just wanted to make an announcement- that within the next two weeks I will be dedicating massive amounts of time and effort into this story to get it where it needs to be, including a final cut of the story thus far. Please stay tuned in, and as soon as early summer get ready for a steady stream of updates to sate your post-Mass Effect 3 appetites Also, a teaser for a future series will be posted soon as a separate entity. Cheers everyone, I'm promising big things for you all over the summer, so get ready for it ;D Alde
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