Post by Rascarin on Jun 27, 2008 17:07:23 GMT 1
Authors Note: Okay, so I'll start us off with my own piece of ME fanfic. Hope you like it :) .
"I’m sorry, Ash. I had to make a choice.”
“I understand, Commander. I don’t regret a thing.” I shut off the comm before Shepard can say anything else. I don’t want to hear it. And, I suppose, I don’t want them to hear me dying either. I’ve heard it before; marines under fire begging for their lives. I don’t plan to start sobbing my ass off and crying like a little girl, but you never know. I draw my pistol.
The realisation of certain death in the very near future is a strange feeling. I mean, sure, I’ve been in life or death situations, fighting to survive. I’ve feared for my life more than once, even before I came under Shepard’s command. I’ve never had to sit it out and wait though. I look over my shoulder at the display on the warhead. Four minutes and seventeen seconds. That’s if the Geth don’t kill me first. I don’t know which will be better. Falling to those bastard robots or waiting for the explosion. Well, I’m not going to surrender, that’s for certain. Who knows, maybe my sacrifice will finally be enough to remove the stain on my family’s name? Proof enough to the Alliance that no William’s can ever be called a coward? I can only hope. My hardsuit beeps at me as Geth blaster fire impacts against the shields. I raise my gun and shoot.
The Geth spasms as my shot enters its neck. Grease spurts out like oily blue blood. I wonder if Geth feel pain? I hope so; they deserve to suffer as much as we have to. More, even. They deserve agony and despair for what they have done. For Eden Prime, for Feros, for every other damn colony affected by their damn crusade. For every organic life they have claimed, they deserve to die. Even over the roar of the water around me, I can hear gunshots and blaster fire in the distance. Shepard must be getting close to the L.T. and the Salarians by now. I glance back at the warhead. Three minutes forty-two. A feel a chill run down my spine as I watch the numbers, counting down, one by one. Forty-one, forty, thirty-nine… I grip my pistol tighter. Keep it together, Ash! I berate myself. I wonder what Dad would say, if he could give me any advice? He’d probably quote one of his silly poems and say something profound. Not that words are much good anymore…
I hear a mechanical hiss as one of the huge doors opens, and a dozen more Geth pour through. They begin firing immediately, and my hardsuit beeps out a cacophony of alarms as the shields begin failing. I reach for one of the grenades from my utility belt and throw it at the centre of the group, then activate the remote detonator. It explodes, and the blast sends me reeling. Stupid, I tell myself, who the hell sets off a grenade when they’re standing right next to it? A great plume of water jettisons into the air with the explosion, and a few Geth fly out of the epicentre, dead. Or deactivated. Whatever. I shoot into the cloud of smoke and steam, trying to spot the flashlight heads of the survivors through the fog. The mist clears, and I’ve taken down a few of them. There’s still too many left though. One of them makes a strange, angry whirring noise and opens fire, its ‘eye’ glaring straight at me. I shoot back, but I’m outmatched… dammit, my shields are failing, and my pistol is about to overheat. I feel a white hot roar of pain as a shot gets through the shields, hitting me in the stomach. I hear myself scream. There’s five of them left… shit, keep shooting, keep shooting… Another one goes down… I take another hit in the arm, then another in the torso. I’m on my knees in the water, and I’m bleeding… so much blood… three left…oh, God, it hurts… keep shooting…
I struggle to make my injured arm activate my omni-tool. If I can just get some medi-gel in me, I can make it… don’t look at the blood, keep shooting… two left… come on, soldier, you’re stronger than this, keep going… The omni-tool beeps as it administers the medi-gel into my bloodstream. I feel some of the pain fade, and my vision clears a little… but they keep firing… dammit… Shoot them, Ash, now! My arm is shaking so much, I can barely aim straight… I fire again and the pistol beeps at me. Shit, it’s overheated. And why the hell does everything just beep? Couldn’t the Alliance think of a different damn noise? I pull my shotgun from the holster on my back and shoot, twice. And the Geth are down.
The shotgun falls from my grasp into the water, and I collapse along side it. My body has never hurt this much before. I stay there for a few minutes, trying to get my breath back. I’m still bleeding, and I don’t have enough medi-gel to stop it. Crap. I haul myself up as best I can, and lean against the nuke. Hell, if I’ve gotta die, I might as well try and get comfortable, right? I use my uninjured arm to pull the helmet off my head, and I let my hair down. Lynne always used to tell me it would make more sense to get my hair cut short instead of tying it up all the time. I smile, despite the pain. I’m really gonna miss her, and the others. I almost re-open the comm channel to Shepard again, with a message to pass to my sisters, but I don’t. The commander has enough to worry about and… I’ll see them again, some day. It can wait until then. I undo the clasps on my exoskeleton. It feels good to be able to breathe again.
I look back at the timer on the warhead. Only twenty-eight seconds to go. Hell, those Geth must really suck. Twelve of them couldn’t kill me in three minutes? Losers. I try to laugh, but the wound in my chest stops me. I hear the sound of ship engines, and looking up, I see the Normandy taking off and leaving the atmosphere. I wonder what the others will have to say about me when I’m gone? I don’t suppose it’s important anymore. Not to me, anyway.
I rest my head back against the warhead and close my eyes. The sun is on my face, and the breeze feels good blowing through my hair. Despite what Saren did here, it’s a beautiful world. The nuke beeps as it begins counting down the final few seconds. I’m not… angry. Not anymore. Not angry or sad… just peaceful.
I smile.
"I’m sorry, Ash. I had to make a choice.”
“I understand, Commander. I don’t regret a thing.” I shut off the comm before Shepard can say anything else. I don’t want to hear it. And, I suppose, I don’t want them to hear me dying either. I’ve heard it before; marines under fire begging for their lives. I don’t plan to start sobbing my ass off and crying like a little girl, but you never know. I draw my pistol.
The realisation of certain death in the very near future is a strange feeling. I mean, sure, I’ve been in life or death situations, fighting to survive. I’ve feared for my life more than once, even before I came under Shepard’s command. I’ve never had to sit it out and wait though. I look over my shoulder at the display on the warhead. Four minutes and seventeen seconds. That’s if the Geth don’t kill me first. I don’t know which will be better. Falling to those bastard robots or waiting for the explosion. Well, I’m not going to surrender, that’s for certain. Who knows, maybe my sacrifice will finally be enough to remove the stain on my family’s name? Proof enough to the Alliance that no William’s can ever be called a coward? I can only hope. My hardsuit beeps at me as Geth blaster fire impacts against the shields. I raise my gun and shoot.
The Geth spasms as my shot enters its neck. Grease spurts out like oily blue blood. I wonder if Geth feel pain? I hope so; they deserve to suffer as much as we have to. More, even. They deserve agony and despair for what they have done. For Eden Prime, for Feros, for every other damn colony affected by their damn crusade. For every organic life they have claimed, they deserve to die. Even over the roar of the water around me, I can hear gunshots and blaster fire in the distance. Shepard must be getting close to the L.T. and the Salarians by now. I glance back at the warhead. Three minutes forty-two. A feel a chill run down my spine as I watch the numbers, counting down, one by one. Forty-one, forty, thirty-nine… I grip my pistol tighter. Keep it together, Ash! I berate myself. I wonder what Dad would say, if he could give me any advice? He’d probably quote one of his silly poems and say something profound. Not that words are much good anymore…
I hear a mechanical hiss as one of the huge doors opens, and a dozen more Geth pour through. They begin firing immediately, and my hardsuit beeps out a cacophony of alarms as the shields begin failing. I reach for one of the grenades from my utility belt and throw it at the centre of the group, then activate the remote detonator. It explodes, and the blast sends me reeling. Stupid, I tell myself, who the hell sets off a grenade when they’re standing right next to it? A great plume of water jettisons into the air with the explosion, and a few Geth fly out of the epicentre, dead. Or deactivated. Whatever. I shoot into the cloud of smoke and steam, trying to spot the flashlight heads of the survivors through the fog. The mist clears, and I’ve taken down a few of them. There’s still too many left though. One of them makes a strange, angry whirring noise and opens fire, its ‘eye’ glaring straight at me. I shoot back, but I’m outmatched… dammit, my shields are failing, and my pistol is about to overheat. I feel a white hot roar of pain as a shot gets through the shields, hitting me in the stomach. I hear myself scream. There’s five of them left… shit, keep shooting, keep shooting… Another one goes down… I take another hit in the arm, then another in the torso. I’m on my knees in the water, and I’m bleeding… so much blood… three left…oh, God, it hurts… keep shooting…
I struggle to make my injured arm activate my omni-tool. If I can just get some medi-gel in me, I can make it… don’t look at the blood, keep shooting… two left… come on, soldier, you’re stronger than this, keep going… The omni-tool beeps as it administers the medi-gel into my bloodstream. I feel some of the pain fade, and my vision clears a little… but they keep firing… dammit… Shoot them, Ash, now! My arm is shaking so much, I can barely aim straight… I fire again and the pistol beeps at me. Shit, it’s overheated. And why the hell does everything just beep? Couldn’t the Alliance think of a different damn noise? I pull my shotgun from the holster on my back and shoot, twice. And the Geth are down.
The shotgun falls from my grasp into the water, and I collapse along side it. My body has never hurt this much before. I stay there for a few minutes, trying to get my breath back. I’m still bleeding, and I don’t have enough medi-gel to stop it. Crap. I haul myself up as best I can, and lean against the nuke. Hell, if I’ve gotta die, I might as well try and get comfortable, right? I use my uninjured arm to pull the helmet off my head, and I let my hair down. Lynne always used to tell me it would make more sense to get my hair cut short instead of tying it up all the time. I smile, despite the pain. I’m really gonna miss her, and the others. I almost re-open the comm channel to Shepard again, with a message to pass to my sisters, but I don’t. The commander has enough to worry about and… I’ll see them again, some day. It can wait until then. I undo the clasps on my exoskeleton. It feels good to be able to breathe again.
I look back at the timer on the warhead. Only twenty-eight seconds to go. Hell, those Geth must really suck. Twelve of them couldn’t kill me in three minutes? Losers. I try to laugh, but the wound in my chest stops me. I hear the sound of ship engines, and looking up, I see the Normandy taking off and leaving the atmosphere. I wonder what the others will have to say about me when I’m gone? I don’t suppose it’s important anymore. Not to me, anyway.
I rest my head back against the warhead and close my eyes. The sun is on my face, and the breeze feels good blowing through my hair. Despite what Saren did here, it’s a beautiful world. The nuke beeps as it begins counting down the final few seconds. I’m not… angry. Not anymore. Not angry or sad… just peaceful.
I smile.