Post by docfronkensteen on Nov 14, 2012 3:00:01 GMT 1
Hey folks, long time no see (again). This is a fic I wrote around the launch of ME3 and never got around to posting on here. I'm trying to get back into writing, and am working on future chapters of this. If you are so inclined, let me know what you think via PM or in the review thread. Cheers.
When the Man Comes Around, Chapter 1
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts...
And I looked and beheld, a pale horse
And his name that sat on him was Death
And Hell followed with him
-Revelation 6:6, 8
Chaos. It’s an interesting sound. At times, it sounds like static. Just incomprehensible noise, drowning everything out; consuming all of the senses. Other times, you can feel everything. Hear every scream, feel the searing white-hot pain, experience the agony of millions of broken hearts. Then it becomes overwhelming, you become numb, and it just fades out to static again. It goes back and forth, endlessly. Sometimes you could even swear you hear your name being called out among the hoards of screaming masses...
“Castus? Sergeant!”
Vox snapped his head up, away from the singed wall he had been staring at. He looked at the young officer that stood before him, waiting.
“We’re going out again. Get your troops moving.”
“Yes, sir.” Vox’s voice was hollow. Grabbing his rifle, he struggled to his feet. Everything ached. He and his squad had been run ragged the past few days. They’d been targeted by orbital bombardment from the Reapers. The most frustrating thing about watching your friends and family die was not being able to shoot back.
He paused for a brief moment before entering the hall where his platoon was waiting. It was the only place most of the soldiers could stay. The hospital that they were staying in had been evacuated at the start of the invasion, but had already been refilled. There were rumors that the shuttles took all of the evacuated sick and hospital staff to a “safer” location... A location that was promptly attacked and destroyed by a Reaper. It was almost funny, in some kind of sick and twisted way.
“Alright...” Vox approached his platoon. “Orders are coming in soon. Get ready to move. Everyone check your gear, and check a squadmate’s gear.” His omni-tool gave an alert tone. Vox flicked it on and read the message that floated above his arm.
“You know where we’re going, Sarge?” A young private spoke up.
“Right down the road. It looks like Reaper ground forces are making a push, we’re going to head them off.” He turned off his omni-tool as a cold feeling swept over him.
“About time we get a real fight.” Another private, a particularly loud-mouthed one named Marcius, boasted. Vox shot him a glance. A large portion the platoon was young--no older than 17 for most of the low level ranks. None of them had really encountered anything up until this point.
“Take pride in the opportunity to defend Palaven, your family, and your fellow soldiers. Fighting is meaningless without those things.” There was a pause for a moment where everyone was quiet. “We move out in ten minutes, be ready.”
Vox turned to head back to the officer’s meeting room. The bustle had increased. Much like himself, many others were now on the move with their newfound orders. And it didn’t feel like a healthy kind of bustle, either. It was a mixture of nerves and restlessness. Everyone was eager to move, but everyone also knew that their chances of coming back were slim to none.
The officers room also buzzed with activity, but it was more hushed than that of hallways. The beeping of consoles and omni-tools almost drowned out the hushed conversations.
“Sir.” Vox snapped a salute in front of Lieutenant Kurlus, his platoon officer. “Second Platoon is ready. They’ll be assembling outside as we speak.”
The Lieutenant was silent, merely returning the salute and then returning to his omni-tool. “Form up with them, and get moving. I’ll be with Third Platoon. Keep an eye on your comms for any word from me. Dismissed.”
Vox saluted again quickly before moving towards the door. Just before leaving the room, he saw a video feed from one of the perimeter scouts go dark. There was a small flurry of activity around the console. He paused for a moment to watch some of the other feeds. A few seconds later, another went dark. Vox didn’t waste any time--one going down could have been a tech problem. Two within moments of each other could only mean the Reaper ground forces were much closer than they had thought.
He rounded a corner, avoiding patients and medical staff as they rushed towards the more protected parts of the building. The building gave a low groan and shuddered. The lights flickered once, came back, and then went dark. After a gap of a few seconds, the emergency lighting activated. It wasn’t much, but at least now it was possible to see. Vox was practically running now, dodging through the crowded hallways.
“Corporal! Can you hear me?” He yelled into his headset.
“Yes, Sarge, I got you.” A voice came through.
“Make sure you and the other squads are ready to go as soon as I get there. I’m two minute--” Another loud rumble interrupted. The floor actually shifted slightly. This broke Vox’s pace for a moment. He corrected. As soon as he did, the hallway in front of him disappeared into a fireball. There was a split-second sensation of weightlessness. Clamping his eyes shut and protecting his face, he braced for the inevitable impact with the ground.
His landing was much harder than he expected. It was enough to knock the the wind out of him, but the turian was able to recover quickly. Scrambling to his feet, he felt the floor tremble again. This time, it didn’t stop, dropping almost a meter before he could stand. It dropped once more. He could feel himself starting to slide down the hallway, toward a gaping hole where flames continued to shoot through. Unfortunately, there were no footholds to stop his slide. Vox realised this, and again braced himself for impact. He took a deep breath in and held it. After passing though a brief but very intense heat, he slipped off the edge. He hit the ground harder this time, but was able to roll away from the impact.
Immediately, he scrambled to his feet. His face stung, but was greeted by a breeze of cool air. Half of the building--the half that housed most of the hospital patients and staff--had been carved away. It was simply gone. All that remained were steep piles of flaming rubble.
“Sarge! Over here!”
“Marcius!” Vox spotted the young soldier crouched down behind a collapsed pillar. Vox crouched low and made his way over. “Where’s the rest of the platoon? Did they make it to the muster point?”
“No. We got separated on the way there.”
“Yeah. Same thing happened to me.” Vox peeked over the pillar into the debris strewn courtyard. There were no enemies in sight. That could change quickly, as the sounds of battle were still deafening.
“I was able to get new orders before our comms went down.” Marcius flashed his omni-tool. “Fall back to the secondary rally point.”
“Right. Then that’s what we do.” Vox checked his rifle one last time while taking another look over the pillar. “Alright, here's the plan. I’m going to run to that collapsed statue up there, and you’re going to cover me. As soon as I get there, I’ll cover you so you can get up to that car over there. We’ll do that until we’re clear of the courtyard.”
“Got it, Sergeant.”
“Keep low, and remember your training.” With that, Vox climbed over the pillar, landed on his feet, and raised his rifle. He started a moderately paced run towards his goal, still going slow enough that he could aim down his sights effectively. There were bodies strewn everywhere. Civilians, medical staff, soldiers. Even the occasional husk. It looked like there were different kinds, other than the familiar human type. He didn’t stop to get a closer look.
“Got you covered. Move up.” Vox spoke quietly into his headset. He kept his eyes forward, although the private’s footsteps could be heard running across the dirt. Only a moment later, Marcius passed him, diving to cover behind the wrecked skycar ahead.
Vox came out from around the statue, moving faster this time, but still scanning his surroundings. The sounds of battle had quieted. This wasn't calming in the least--the only thing it could mean was that the Reapers had overrun Hierarchy positions.
"See that alleyway? We're both going for it; don't stop unless someone starts shooting at us."
"Got it." Marcius whispered into his own headset. The two turian soldiers moved as quickly as possible, nearing a full sprint as they closed on the narrow alleyway. Vox swore he could feel something chasing them, more of an ominous feeling than anything else. Finallly, he slid to a stop behind one of the thick walls. Marcius was right behind, coming to a much less graceful stop.
"See if you can...link back up with anyone out there... We'll probably have new orders." Vox breathed heavily in between sentences. He scanned the skyline once more. Thick black smoke billowed from everywhere. The tops of the larger buildings couldn't be seen. The occasional flash through the smoke reminded him that combat was still going on at much higher altitudes. And this wasn't even one of the hardest hit areas. In most of the larger cities, the tallest things on the skyline were piles of dead bodies and rubble.
Marcius stomped a foot in frustration. "I can't seem to get a steady link. They're still broadcasting, but the signal keeps getting dropped."
"Then keep trying. If you don't get anything in five minutes, we'll go to the initial fallback position." Vox thought to himself intently. The link to HQ was there, they just couldn't keep a connection. That meant something was in between them causing interference. Vox turned his attention back towards the sky. There was a sound--very low and very fiant. He braced himself against the building nearby, trying to listen to the sound. The metal wall began to resonate along with the low sound. It quickly became louder, and at the same time changed pitch.
"You hear that?" Vox looked at Marcius, who was still struggling with his omni-tool.
"Yeah."
"We're moving now--" The sound jumped in volume, drowning out his voice. It stopped for a moment before continuing, so loud that everything seemed to shake. Movement above caught their attention. An enormous shape emerged from the smoke. It was unrecognizable at first simply due to its sheer size. Vox thought it was the top of a building or a military ship that had been brought down, at first. But then a red light lit up the smoke, illuminating the thing’s silhouette. It was a Reaper. Unmistakably. Images of Sovereign flashed through his mind. This one was smaller, but it was a Reaper. He watched as a leg emerged, trailing billows of smoke behind it as it disturbed the air. The ground shook as it walked past and a beam of fiery red energy erupted from the single red eye that had first illuminated it. Explosions rocked everything, sending loose debris tumbling down on top of them. It must have been shooting down ships and fighter wings.
“Spirits...” Marcius whispered. “How are we supposed to kill something like that?”
Vox glanced at him. He thought back to the Battle of the Citadel, about how much of the fleet it took to take Sovereign down. Turning his gaze back to the Reaper walking slowly by, he flicked his mandibles, adrenaline heating his blood.
“We don’t. Not not without a lot of help.”
It was amazing how such a thin layer of transparent material could insulate against so much. Although muffled, the raging winds outside sounded more like a calm river. It was a particularly bad storm this time. The usual landscape was completely obscured; it was as if someone had put a coat of white paint over the outside of the glass.
Nick put a hand against the cool surface. Goosebumps ran down his arm. He wiped his chilled fingers across his forehead, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The temperature inside was a mild twenty-one degrees centigrade, with varying amounts of humidity depending on which labs you visited. Even though traveling outside would mean freezing to death in minutes without a constant source of heat, it didn’t feel all that much different than staying inside.
Nick had been working in the labs on Noveria going on three months now, almost non-stop. Being trapped in that environment felt almost as cold as the frozen wasteland; the bright synthetic lights, the smooth steel walls, the eighteen hour work days. Apart from the occasional beautiful view of the landscape, if it wasn’t snowing, they were given a kind of “virtual interface” type programs to keep morale up. Usually things like sunny beaches and warm forests. They did little to stave off the feeling of cold isolation. Each time you woke from one of the simulations was like waking from a great dream, already knowing it was a dream. It left one... empty.
“Specialist O’Neil. Report to med bay two. We’ve got an incoming specimen.”
Nick took another deep breath, again wiping his forehead. He tapped the flashing key on his omni-tool.
“On my way.” He spoke softly into his hand. The omni-tool flashed again, then vanished from view. Nick began making his way down to the correct lab. His team was responsible for learning how the reaper ground forces killed- and then develop better defenses for personnel--things like improved armor and shielding. It felt like they weren’t making much progress. Every time they deployed an improved system, the casualties kept coming in as if they’d done nothing at all. Of course, there wasn’t any choice other than to follow orders.
The doors to the med bay swished open with a breeze of cooler and slightly drier air. The med labs were intentionally kept a few degrees lower, as their primary function at this point was for autopsies. Nick flung a thick apron on, and pulled on a set of rubber gloves.
“What do we have this time?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Banshee.” A voice answered simply from behind. Doctor Eben Reid was the project manager here.
“We have a banshee? I thought they collapsed in on themselves upon death.” Nick furrowed his brow. He clicked on his omni-tool as he approached the autopsy table.
“No. This soldier was killed by a banshee...” Dr. Reid corrected him.
A Cerberus Guardian lay on the table. Its armor was dark and scorched. Dried blood had creeped out of the many joints in its armor.
“He’s relatively intact. Usually all we get are a few pieces at most.” Nick commented, beginning a scan of the corpse.
“Take a look at his riot sheild.” The doctor pointed to the corner of the room. The Guardian's shield was propped up against the wall. It was scorched beyond recognition. In its center was a hole about twenty centimeters wide, with its edges bent inwards.
“God damn.. He’s still dead, but this is improvement.” Nick remarked at the shield. “We hardly have anything come back from a banshee intact.”
The doctor agreed silently. “Start the autopsy, please.” He spoke without looking up from a data display.
As Nick began by pulling the armor segments from the dead soldier, something nagged at him. “One question doc... Has this one been... Improved?”
“All front line soldiers get combat modifications.”
At the same moment, Nick removed the corpse’s helmet. A husk-like face greeted him--it was almost familiar at this point. Grey skin, tiny metallic circuits where veins used to be, its eyes still glowing faintly even after death.
“Damn... I know they’re combat improvements, but they still creep me the hell out.”
“Relax, O’Neil... Modifications only apply to front line troops... You’re working in a support capacity.” Reid glanced up at him briefly before going back to the data display.
“Yeah. But how long until this is the front line?”
“It won’t be,” Reid moved around to the opposite side of the autopsy table. “There’s plenty of them in between us and the front line.” He nodded to the Cerberus assault trooper standing guard in the corner of the room. “And as long as we continue to be useful, you can guarantee the Illusive Man has your back.”
“Hmm... Comforting.” Nick mouthed under his breath, tossing a glance back at the assault trooper. “Here’s to Cerberus, then.” He said louder, continuing to peel scorched armor from the corpse.
When the Man Comes Around, Chapter 1
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts...
And I looked and beheld, a pale horse
And his name that sat on him was Death
And Hell followed with him
-Revelation 6:6, 8
Chaos. It’s an interesting sound. At times, it sounds like static. Just incomprehensible noise, drowning everything out; consuming all of the senses. Other times, you can feel everything. Hear every scream, feel the searing white-hot pain, experience the agony of millions of broken hearts. Then it becomes overwhelming, you become numb, and it just fades out to static again. It goes back and forth, endlessly. Sometimes you could even swear you hear your name being called out among the hoards of screaming masses...
“Castus? Sergeant!”
Vox snapped his head up, away from the singed wall he had been staring at. He looked at the young officer that stood before him, waiting.
“We’re going out again. Get your troops moving.”
“Yes, sir.” Vox’s voice was hollow. Grabbing his rifle, he struggled to his feet. Everything ached. He and his squad had been run ragged the past few days. They’d been targeted by orbital bombardment from the Reapers. The most frustrating thing about watching your friends and family die was not being able to shoot back.
He paused for a brief moment before entering the hall where his platoon was waiting. It was the only place most of the soldiers could stay. The hospital that they were staying in had been evacuated at the start of the invasion, but had already been refilled. There were rumors that the shuttles took all of the evacuated sick and hospital staff to a “safer” location... A location that was promptly attacked and destroyed by a Reaper. It was almost funny, in some kind of sick and twisted way.
“Alright...” Vox approached his platoon. “Orders are coming in soon. Get ready to move. Everyone check your gear, and check a squadmate’s gear.” His omni-tool gave an alert tone. Vox flicked it on and read the message that floated above his arm.
“You know where we’re going, Sarge?” A young private spoke up.
“Right down the road. It looks like Reaper ground forces are making a push, we’re going to head them off.” He turned off his omni-tool as a cold feeling swept over him.
“About time we get a real fight.” Another private, a particularly loud-mouthed one named Marcius, boasted. Vox shot him a glance. A large portion the platoon was young--no older than 17 for most of the low level ranks. None of them had really encountered anything up until this point.
“Take pride in the opportunity to defend Palaven, your family, and your fellow soldiers. Fighting is meaningless without those things.” There was a pause for a moment where everyone was quiet. “We move out in ten minutes, be ready.”
Vox turned to head back to the officer’s meeting room. The bustle had increased. Much like himself, many others were now on the move with their newfound orders. And it didn’t feel like a healthy kind of bustle, either. It was a mixture of nerves and restlessness. Everyone was eager to move, but everyone also knew that their chances of coming back were slim to none.
The officers room also buzzed with activity, but it was more hushed than that of hallways. The beeping of consoles and omni-tools almost drowned out the hushed conversations.
“Sir.” Vox snapped a salute in front of Lieutenant Kurlus, his platoon officer. “Second Platoon is ready. They’ll be assembling outside as we speak.”
The Lieutenant was silent, merely returning the salute and then returning to his omni-tool. “Form up with them, and get moving. I’ll be with Third Platoon. Keep an eye on your comms for any word from me. Dismissed.”
Vox saluted again quickly before moving towards the door. Just before leaving the room, he saw a video feed from one of the perimeter scouts go dark. There was a small flurry of activity around the console. He paused for a moment to watch some of the other feeds. A few seconds later, another went dark. Vox didn’t waste any time--one going down could have been a tech problem. Two within moments of each other could only mean the Reaper ground forces were much closer than they had thought.
He rounded a corner, avoiding patients and medical staff as they rushed towards the more protected parts of the building. The building gave a low groan and shuddered. The lights flickered once, came back, and then went dark. After a gap of a few seconds, the emergency lighting activated. It wasn’t much, but at least now it was possible to see. Vox was practically running now, dodging through the crowded hallways.
“Corporal! Can you hear me?” He yelled into his headset.
“Yes, Sarge, I got you.” A voice came through.
“Make sure you and the other squads are ready to go as soon as I get there. I’m two minute--” Another loud rumble interrupted. The floor actually shifted slightly. This broke Vox’s pace for a moment. He corrected. As soon as he did, the hallway in front of him disappeared into a fireball. There was a split-second sensation of weightlessness. Clamping his eyes shut and protecting his face, he braced for the inevitable impact with the ground.
His landing was much harder than he expected. It was enough to knock the the wind out of him, but the turian was able to recover quickly. Scrambling to his feet, he felt the floor tremble again. This time, it didn’t stop, dropping almost a meter before he could stand. It dropped once more. He could feel himself starting to slide down the hallway, toward a gaping hole where flames continued to shoot through. Unfortunately, there were no footholds to stop his slide. Vox realised this, and again braced himself for impact. He took a deep breath in and held it. After passing though a brief but very intense heat, he slipped off the edge. He hit the ground harder this time, but was able to roll away from the impact.
Immediately, he scrambled to his feet. His face stung, but was greeted by a breeze of cool air. Half of the building--the half that housed most of the hospital patients and staff--had been carved away. It was simply gone. All that remained were steep piles of flaming rubble.
“Sarge! Over here!”
“Marcius!” Vox spotted the young soldier crouched down behind a collapsed pillar. Vox crouched low and made his way over. “Where’s the rest of the platoon? Did they make it to the muster point?”
“No. We got separated on the way there.”
“Yeah. Same thing happened to me.” Vox peeked over the pillar into the debris strewn courtyard. There were no enemies in sight. That could change quickly, as the sounds of battle were still deafening.
“I was able to get new orders before our comms went down.” Marcius flashed his omni-tool. “Fall back to the secondary rally point.”
“Right. Then that’s what we do.” Vox checked his rifle one last time while taking another look over the pillar. “Alright, here's the plan. I’m going to run to that collapsed statue up there, and you’re going to cover me. As soon as I get there, I’ll cover you so you can get up to that car over there. We’ll do that until we’re clear of the courtyard.”
“Got it, Sergeant.”
“Keep low, and remember your training.” With that, Vox climbed over the pillar, landed on his feet, and raised his rifle. He started a moderately paced run towards his goal, still going slow enough that he could aim down his sights effectively. There were bodies strewn everywhere. Civilians, medical staff, soldiers. Even the occasional husk. It looked like there were different kinds, other than the familiar human type. He didn’t stop to get a closer look.
“Got you covered. Move up.” Vox spoke quietly into his headset. He kept his eyes forward, although the private’s footsteps could be heard running across the dirt. Only a moment later, Marcius passed him, diving to cover behind the wrecked skycar ahead.
Vox came out from around the statue, moving faster this time, but still scanning his surroundings. The sounds of battle had quieted. This wasn't calming in the least--the only thing it could mean was that the Reapers had overrun Hierarchy positions.
"See that alleyway? We're both going for it; don't stop unless someone starts shooting at us."
"Got it." Marcius whispered into his own headset. The two turian soldiers moved as quickly as possible, nearing a full sprint as they closed on the narrow alleyway. Vox swore he could feel something chasing them, more of an ominous feeling than anything else. Finallly, he slid to a stop behind one of the thick walls. Marcius was right behind, coming to a much less graceful stop.
"See if you can...link back up with anyone out there... We'll probably have new orders." Vox breathed heavily in between sentences. He scanned the skyline once more. Thick black smoke billowed from everywhere. The tops of the larger buildings couldn't be seen. The occasional flash through the smoke reminded him that combat was still going on at much higher altitudes. And this wasn't even one of the hardest hit areas. In most of the larger cities, the tallest things on the skyline were piles of dead bodies and rubble.
Marcius stomped a foot in frustration. "I can't seem to get a steady link. They're still broadcasting, but the signal keeps getting dropped."
"Then keep trying. If you don't get anything in five minutes, we'll go to the initial fallback position." Vox thought to himself intently. The link to HQ was there, they just couldn't keep a connection. That meant something was in between them causing interference. Vox turned his attention back towards the sky. There was a sound--very low and very fiant. He braced himself against the building nearby, trying to listen to the sound. The metal wall began to resonate along with the low sound. It quickly became louder, and at the same time changed pitch.
"You hear that?" Vox looked at Marcius, who was still struggling with his omni-tool.
"Yeah."
"We're moving now--" The sound jumped in volume, drowning out his voice. It stopped for a moment before continuing, so loud that everything seemed to shake. Movement above caught their attention. An enormous shape emerged from the smoke. It was unrecognizable at first simply due to its sheer size. Vox thought it was the top of a building or a military ship that had been brought down, at first. But then a red light lit up the smoke, illuminating the thing’s silhouette. It was a Reaper. Unmistakably. Images of Sovereign flashed through his mind. This one was smaller, but it was a Reaper. He watched as a leg emerged, trailing billows of smoke behind it as it disturbed the air. The ground shook as it walked past and a beam of fiery red energy erupted from the single red eye that had first illuminated it. Explosions rocked everything, sending loose debris tumbling down on top of them. It must have been shooting down ships and fighter wings.
“Spirits...” Marcius whispered. “How are we supposed to kill something like that?”
Vox glanced at him. He thought back to the Battle of the Citadel, about how much of the fleet it took to take Sovereign down. Turning his gaze back to the Reaper walking slowly by, he flicked his mandibles, adrenaline heating his blood.
“We don’t. Not not without a lot of help.”
It was amazing how such a thin layer of transparent material could insulate against so much. Although muffled, the raging winds outside sounded more like a calm river. It was a particularly bad storm this time. The usual landscape was completely obscured; it was as if someone had put a coat of white paint over the outside of the glass.
Nick put a hand against the cool surface. Goosebumps ran down his arm. He wiped his chilled fingers across his forehead, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The temperature inside was a mild twenty-one degrees centigrade, with varying amounts of humidity depending on which labs you visited. Even though traveling outside would mean freezing to death in minutes without a constant source of heat, it didn’t feel all that much different than staying inside.
Nick had been working in the labs on Noveria going on three months now, almost non-stop. Being trapped in that environment felt almost as cold as the frozen wasteland; the bright synthetic lights, the smooth steel walls, the eighteen hour work days. Apart from the occasional beautiful view of the landscape, if it wasn’t snowing, they were given a kind of “virtual interface” type programs to keep morale up. Usually things like sunny beaches and warm forests. They did little to stave off the feeling of cold isolation. Each time you woke from one of the simulations was like waking from a great dream, already knowing it was a dream. It left one... empty.
“Specialist O’Neil. Report to med bay two. We’ve got an incoming specimen.”
Nick took another deep breath, again wiping his forehead. He tapped the flashing key on his omni-tool.
“On my way.” He spoke softly into his hand. The omni-tool flashed again, then vanished from view. Nick began making his way down to the correct lab. His team was responsible for learning how the reaper ground forces killed- and then develop better defenses for personnel--things like improved armor and shielding. It felt like they weren’t making much progress. Every time they deployed an improved system, the casualties kept coming in as if they’d done nothing at all. Of course, there wasn’t any choice other than to follow orders.
The doors to the med bay swished open with a breeze of cooler and slightly drier air. The med labs were intentionally kept a few degrees lower, as their primary function at this point was for autopsies. Nick flung a thick apron on, and pulled on a set of rubber gloves.
“What do we have this time?” He asked over his shoulder.
“Banshee.” A voice answered simply from behind. Doctor Eben Reid was the project manager here.
“We have a banshee? I thought they collapsed in on themselves upon death.” Nick furrowed his brow. He clicked on his omni-tool as he approached the autopsy table.
“No. This soldier was killed by a banshee...” Dr. Reid corrected him.
A Cerberus Guardian lay on the table. Its armor was dark and scorched. Dried blood had creeped out of the many joints in its armor.
“He’s relatively intact. Usually all we get are a few pieces at most.” Nick commented, beginning a scan of the corpse.
“Take a look at his riot sheild.” The doctor pointed to the corner of the room. The Guardian's shield was propped up against the wall. It was scorched beyond recognition. In its center was a hole about twenty centimeters wide, with its edges bent inwards.
“God damn.. He’s still dead, but this is improvement.” Nick remarked at the shield. “We hardly have anything come back from a banshee intact.”
The doctor agreed silently. “Start the autopsy, please.” He spoke without looking up from a data display.
As Nick began by pulling the armor segments from the dead soldier, something nagged at him. “One question doc... Has this one been... Improved?”
“All front line soldiers get combat modifications.”
At the same moment, Nick removed the corpse’s helmet. A husk-like face greeted him--it was almost familiar at this point. Grey skin, tiny metallic circuits where veins used to be, its eyes still glowing faintly even after death.
“Damn... I know they’re combat improvements, but they still creep me the hell out.”
“Relax, O’Neil... Modifications only apply to front line troops... You’re working in a support capacity.” Reid glanced up at him briefly before going back to the data display.
“Yeah. But how long until this is the front line?”
“It won’t be,” Reid moved around to the opposite side of the autopsy table. “There’s plenty of them in between us and the front line.” He nodded to the Cerberus assault trooper standing guard in the corner of the room. “And as long as we continue to be useful, you can guarantee the Illusive Man has your back.”
“Hmm... Comforting.” Nick mouthed under his breath, tossing a glance back at the assault trooper. “Here’s to Cerberus, then.” He said louder, continuing to peel scorched armor from the corpse.