Chapter 5: Eden Prime
Jon sat on his couch with his feet up on the table in his Commonwealth home. He never moved from the Red Rocket since settling there long ago. In the time Concorde had denseified, and then expanded outward. However they left the station and Sanctuary their room, and only went in the directions they were not. It was a city in and of itself, The capital Lexington had become a bigger city, and Fort Starlight still stood, though not made of scrap. None rivaled Boston however, the largest city on the east coast. The second in the world after Beijing.
On the flatscreen the new Silver Shroud standalone was playing, the General always getting advance copies, in particular of Hubris properties. His friend Kent, one of the few he hadn't and may never outlive, owned the brand, claiming it basically by conquest. He did break his promise of no adventures when he marched down the street with the biggest gun he could buy from KL-E-O, and re cleared the building that Jon had that rainy night. He moved in and began fixing it up with ASAM’s and scrap nearby.
Bunker hill and the new Colonial District were more than happy to trade, and comic fans all around were more than happy with helping and repopulating the block once he put word on the broadcast. Word had also gotten out about the Shroud, and his kidnapping by Sinjin. The public kneecapping and refusal to submit gave him much more credibility than he had before in the still rough Goodneighbor. He was seen as more than just a happy little guy that you let be happy because a little cheer never hurt anyone, but also someone that you don’t want to mess with for multiple reasons, lest not the least the Silver Shroud.
With the HQ, the trade, the help, the rep, and an idea he built a media empire that even House said rivaled pre-war counterparts. After a long time of being the man behind the curtain, he wanted to be the front man in his own films. Jon could only laugh in tears at the result.
“I got you Shroud!” Kent playing himself said as he dragged the injured Silver Shroud though a hail of gunfire on the WWII streets of Berlin.
“Leave me my stalwart companion Kent Connolly!” The Shroud Cried as he returned fire with his tommy gun at the advancing Nazis.
“It’ll contaminate the Timeline! Just keep shooting Shroud!” Kent then took a bullet but still kept his movement.
“It is already contaminated, my friend.” The gunfire stopped and Kent finally noticed the long trail of blood. He stood there for a moment while the fire kept up, each round save the one missing him. He slowly picked up the Silver Tommy Gun, and gave a couple more bursts before running off. The film ended on a cliffhanger, panning over the planned Germania under construction after the German victory over the allies. The sequel, “Unstoppables: Resistance” was already in production, and the planned release date scrolled across before the credits began.
It was the exact opposite of how things happened, and no one but the bad guys died. He had no doubt it would be a sad scene when it hit the theaters, but only he knew the inspiration for it. Only he got the jokes littered throughout every scene that wrenched the heart.
He finally broke when he got back from his long term mission and got a mass effect derived omi-tool. It was of course custom made and programmed for operators, hardened to no end, wearable and removable rather than implanted like a lot of offerings on the market, up-gradable unlike a lot of standard options that needed replaced, and had a variety of functions useful to field operations. It also had all the basic functions one would expect however from a product with omi in the name.
He shot a message to Kent, “10/10, best comedy of the year.”
Kent replied, “HA!”
That was the extent of their conversation, and Jon was about to get up for some grub and a mid afternoon nap like the old man he was when his omi-tool pinged again. He had been waiting for this call for nearly five years now. He decided that after the first contact it would perhaps be best if he took a sideline, to foster potential warmer relations with the Citadel. It was a diplomatic show of good faith not letting the man that personally embarrassed them run around to wherever he wanted to go. HIGHCOM readily agreed with his proposal, and so did an informal poll of the Systems Alliance’s own council. The Normandy was formally leased to the Systems Alliance, and a new commander took over for it’s now military oriented missions.
When he bowed out from galactic affairs for a while, he told them they knew where to find him. He keyed the priority com, and the small holographic screen lit up with an image of Captain Anderson. He was in his NCR dress, more inline with pre-war America that they liked to emulate, and gave a firm nod as he began to speak.
“General Shepard. I have orders to pick you up. I figured I would do you the courtesy of a warning first.”
Jon smiled but was aggravated underneath that his nap was interrupted. Almost grumpy about it. He said, “Thanks Anderson. Just Sheppard is fine. General is only for people that need to say it.”
Anderson smirked, “10 mikes out Sheppard.”
Jon huffed, now missing his nap, on the verge of acceptance of it, and meandered out to his garage where his armor was kept. Running the business out of it was Pipers thing. He didn’t miss the crowd in his home constantly, but he did miss her. He pulled the body suit from it’s locked chest and donned it after stripping his clothes and throwing them wherever. He activated it and it sucked it self up to his form and sealed around his neck where it connected to his neural lace interface. Then he stepped on the workbench and the actuator arm picked the outer shell pieces up and methodically attached them from the feet to his arms and chest.
He stepped off and picked the helmet up off the near ancient workshop and placed in over his head. Jon gathered his readied kit and heaved them out to the lot. In the crates were weapons of standard plasma, mass effect, and powder and shot. Ordinance of all kind with plenty of C4. There were also his armors, a Citadel standard hard suit, and basic fatigues and combat kit.
Just under ten mikes on the dot, the shuttle came in view and shot towards the old coolant station. It more gently sent down on the lot, near holy ground to anyone born in the old Commonwealth, and opened it’s side hatch to let Jon in. He threw the crates in, and hopped in after before taking his spot in the center of the shuttle. Joker was banging his head to the blaring Sabaton playing though the speakers. They had all immigrated from Europe and started a band together on the way over. When they got to the dock nearQuicny and walked the town, they knew what kind of music they would make. Their debut album, ‘The Last Minuteman’ featured hit songs like ‘March from Quincy’ ‘The Last Stand of Colonel Hollis’ ‘The Colonel’s Revenge’ and ‘General’s Wrath.’ His personal favorite was ‘Ironsides’ from their second album, ‘Manifest Destiny.’
Once they left Chicago, Ironsides backtracked and sailed down to scout the Panama Canal, or sail around the Cape Horn if it wasn't operable. Luckily, the Guatemalan government survived intact though the great war, and was holding much of Central America, using the isthmus as a defensive line against the continent of raiders in South America. Originally they were simply using the chaos to conquer, but then the Colonels on the front in Panama saw how far and fast the South American continent had fell to barbarism, and how they would quickly follow. They ousted the leadership that ordered their attacks, and ran a strict, but fair and meritocratic junta as a bulwark against the raiders, former drug gangs and cartels they were always the enemy of.
Ironsides though skillful diplomacy and a hefty bribe of ASAM’s secured passage for NATO though the still functioning canal. The the fact that their missions were practically the same, kill raiders and keep some stability was what really sealed the deal with the cautious junta. The sea component of Athena made it up to the coast of Washington and battled the rouge Brotherhood navy, the subject of the song. When that battle was over, and the task force mostly disbanded, every nation apart of then NATO sent aid to bolster the defenses of the Panama Line.
After that the junta leaders took to Jon’s example and gave up their power, as great men and women of history, lionized heroes, becoming Central America proper and transitioning into a democratic republic as their new allies were. It wasn't hard for them. They kept elections at the local level to foster the image of being protectors and peace keepers, rather than the conquerors they were under it all. As long as those officials did what the military said, the arrangement continued.
“Lost in thought boss?” Joker called though his armor com system.
Jon called back, “Yeah. We close?”
“Yup.”
Jon made a call. A warm face popped up on his visor near instantly. She took after her mother, with Jon’s darker complexion and now lost green eye. Jane said, “Father.”
“Daughter.”
“Haven't spoken for a while.”
“Sorry.”
“Me too.”
Jon smiled, “Underworld war?”
She grinned, “I’m empress of Brazil now. That’s where the drunk Yakuza mugging outside a sake den lead me.”
Jon laughed and she met it. He said, “Haven't been catching up on current events recently. So the cartels meet the wrath of Nooninen-Singh.”
“Why did you change your name?”
“Something a seer told me once. And there's a lot of bad history you didn’t need on you like it was on me. The name I gave you is yours. I needed my own.”
“I understand, dad. The name carries a lot of respect in Central America, so it helped me out big time, and now its royalty in Brazil. Its a fun place, you should visit when you get back from whatever you’re heading towards. Rio never actually fell to the gangs way back when. It became continental neutral turf thanks to the Redemer, so it kept most of it’s culture and history.”
Jon smiled, with a hint of sadness, “I’ll try. I don’t know what the hell they’re throwing me at this time. Just got picked up, and about to embark.”
She sighed, though not indignant at him in particular, “Heavy is the crown.”
“So you’re going to-”
She huffed, now indignant at him directly, “Of course dad, I’m joining the fucking Systems Alliance. I would be a blasted idiot not too past you founding the goddamned thing.”
“And-”
“Oh my god dad, of fucking course it’s a constitutional monarchy. I don’t want to do that work! I like being a cute unifying figurehead that eats fruit all day. Order a general to kill some dickwads every once in a while.”
Jon snickered, “Just checking. Mom would be proud.”
“With you too dad. Anyway, they’re in my other ear about Mexico going down right now, and that AI has some nukes still.”
Jon shook his head, “Good luck. You are superior, my daughter. I never told you that. In another time and place it would mean something grand.”
“Love you dad. Be safe.”
“You too, Jane.”
The call cut just as the shuttle touched down. The hatched opened and Jon hopped out with Joker not far behind. The bay crew followed in to grab and stow his luggage as the ship took off from lunar orbit. They both walked to the elevator and it whisked them up to the command deck.
“Captain would like you in the comm room, see you boss.” Joker said as he walked away to stow his Mk. 2 and man his post.
Jon took the turns back towards the stern and into the comm room. It a nearly empty space with some chairs around the perimeter and three holographic comm units at the back. In it was standing a Turian in red and black armor with complex but perfectly straight clan markings, in white. Jon had his helmet off, and there was no risk of contamination, as the Turian was already contaminated.
The Salarians had dicked around, had tried to blame the Systems Alliance, and rumors swirled that Tevos actually murdered the Salarian councilor when they disappeared, shortly after revelations that they authorized the program personally, even funded it themselves. Another name popped up in that scandal. Vakarian, the C-sec officer that investigated it, and leaked evidence to the press when he smelled a cover up.
The strain that had settled on Earth after centuries was thankfully mild. A virus’s main goal is propagation, and if the virus can evolve rapidly it will eventually evolve to be benign, simply spreading without interacting too much with their hosts. In fact in the search for a vaccine, they found the virus mutated the individual to be mostly immune to its side effects or symptoms. All it wanted after so long of its own war were carriers. With not many around it wouldn't be advantageous to kill or horribly mutate its hosts, that then eat other potential hosts and each other when those ran out. Natural selection determined it’s current form.
An exception there was here or there, some new bit of life evolving rapidly from mutations of another bit of life, but overall the consequences were not that harsh. Jon imagine the only thing keeping Tevos from breaking Sparatus until the Salarians were expelled entirely was that the rest of the union had no knowledge of the FEV program. The Salarian councilor when to great lengths to ensure they didn’t.
The Turian broke Jon’s still quick thoughts, “General Sheppard. Your record speaks for itself. Nihlus Kryik. Special Tactics and Reconnaissance”
Jon shifted his helmet to his off hand and took the one offered, “Specter. The name alone says something about you.”
The Turian flexed his mandibles in the equivalent of a smile, “Thank you. Do you know why we’re here? I was simply told to report to this ship in orbit of your moon. Frankly surprised to be send directly to the Alliance home world.”
Jon scoffed, “I was warned I was being picked up.”
The door opened and Anderson walked in, in full dress once again. Jon picked out several plates for anti-piracy campaigns he had picked up over the years of command. Some of those he knew, from taking a glace at the military networks every once in a while, were from joint Citadel-Systems Alliance operations. The Galactic Treaty Organization had a nice ring to it, he thought, and had no technicality to change the name with.
Anderson said, “Gentlemen, thank you for being here. It’s time to tell you what this is really about. First off, what do you know Sheppard?”
Jon said, “That the film industry is in a golden age, FEV got out, we completed the surveys and started actually colonizing, and you did some patrols with the Turians.”
He nodded, “That’s about the jist of it. One of those planets we colonized is named Eden Prime. The first one we colonized actually. On it a research team found Prothean ruins, including some kind of beacon we don’t understand. Now under Citadel treaty, all Prothean finds have to be handed over to the Council Immediately. We haven't signed that treaty, but in the interests of continued galactic peace and scientific advancement we’re bringing the Council in on this. Frankly, they have facilitates we don’t. That's why you’re here as well, Nihlus.”
“Are we expecting trouble? You’re bringing a heavy hitter out from semi-retirement for this.” Jon asked.
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“And why so much secrecy? I understand not wanting to let a Citadel escort fleet in the heart of your territory, but a Prothean find is usually big news.” Nihlus added.
Anderson confidently answered, “I always expect trouble, and the decision was from the top. We also don’t need every treasure hunter from here to the verge descending on a relatively new colony to rip it up for ancient parts. When its moved I’m sure they’ll set up some tourist attraction or something, but not until that beacon is secure.”
Nihlus nodded, “Earth is still lacking in the respect department. Many see you as rowdy upstarts no matter your accomplishments so far in such short time. How quickly you clawed your way to space after your Great War. Handling this competently and discreetly will be a big propaganda win all around.”
“And who better to lead on that front than the General after things cooled down.” Jon finished.
“Again, those are Alliance Council decisions, but not bad assessments. We Should be nearing Eden Prime so-”
“Captain, we got a mayday from the Eden Prime. EDI’s sending it back now. It’s not good sir.” Joker nervously called back.
They all looked at the holo screen and each one had their own reaction of anger at the sight. Plasma shots were stitching back and forth, ordinance exploding, and Systems Alliance Troopers stumbling, retreating, and dying. One worked their way towards the source of the feed.
“Get down!” She yelled before shoving the camera away.
Another came up, a ghoul, and yelled again, “We are under attack, taking heavy casualties! Repeat heavy causalities! They came outta nowhere! We need Ev-”
Shot struck the man and he went down not a moment later. Ordinance and gunfire continued going off. Then it stopped for a moment, shock and awe clear on the faces of those still alive. The camera turned and a claw wreathed in red lighting dipped down from the battle smoke. It opened some as it was obviously preparing for a landing. The fire intensified once again and the squad ducked and began returning their desperate staccato. The cameraman began moving, the picture blurring as a result, and then it cut.
EDI said, “That is all that we got. The line is dead now.”
Anderson grimaced, “Reverse and hold at 38.5”
The video reversed and held at the image of the claw making it’s approach. Jon could just make out the form, that had of some kind of aquatic design philosophy. He could also peg a rough size, and he did not like the result that came from it. Nihlus flexed his mandibles and was thinking much the same as Jon did.
Anderson kept his scowl, “Status report!”
Joker called, “17 mikes out sir. No Alliance ships in the area.”
He more quietly said, “Take us in Joker. Fast and quiet.”
“Yes sir.” Joker acknowledged.
Anderson breathed deep and let it out, “This mission just got a lot more complicated.”
Nihlus said, “A small strike team can move quickly, not draw much attention.”
“I concur. We need recce more than anything right now before we bring in in the heat.” Jon said.
Nihlus continued, “And we have to secure that beacon. Almost every advancement the council made came from finds like it. Who knows what’s on it. I think it obvious that’s what they're after.”
Jon nodded, “Again, I concur.”
Anderson turned to Nihlus, “Ready your gear and meet us in the cargo hold.”
Nihlus nodded and marched off and out from the comm room. When he left Anderson said, “I didn’t want to say it in front of him, but I’m sending Jenkins with you. The man is a kill bot, literally. An old pre-war assultron that wanted to change his gender and become a courser. Its been a while since the Institute boogeyman days, so the request was approved. He’s been my personal fixer throughout my command of Normandy.”
Jon nodded slowly as he took a longer look at the image still on the screen. It was coming to pass, he thought. If Old Mamma Murphy said something, it happened.
“One last thing. Alliance command has made you an N7. The militaries of Earth have been getting a little more homogeneous over the years since first contact. Practically every nation gave up their special forces branches for the program. The Chinese came up with the designation and ratings. Basic training and infantry school certifies you up to N4. Five are elite shock troops, six are the real special forces, and N7 are the best of the best. You certainly fit that description.
Jon took the patch he was handed, N7 with red and white stripping beside it. He put it in a pouch, deciding to get it painted on when he could. The Normandy sped though the black and entered the atmosphere of Eden Prime just as Jon got to the cargo bay for touch down.
“Stealth systems engaged, Captain. They were doing some serous digging going by passive scans.”
Anderson and the strike team were in the bay. He called to the team, “Go in heavy and head straight to the dig sight.”
Jenkins was in his Mk. 2 power armor standing ramrod straight. He asked, “Captain, survivors?”
“Secondary objective! That beacon is the top priority!” Anderson yelled over the draft as the cargo bay opened.
“Approaching the L-zed.” the comm came over from Joker.
Nihlus said, “Captain, I move faster on my own!”
Anderson thought a moment, “Provide recon and status reports to the rest of the strike team! Otherwise I want radio silence!”
Nihlus nodded and hopped off as the ship was still moving. His hard suit had mass effect mechanisms to let him preform the jump. Jon asked, “We trust him!? I know Specters are good, but that doesn’t mean good!”
Anderson said, “Not much choice right now! The Council has as big a stake in this as we do, and Specters specialize in operating alone!”
“I’ll try to watch his back!”
The lights in the bay went green as the ship slowed to a stop. Anderson said, “The mission is yours now Sheppard! Go kill those bastards that thought they could mess with the Systems Alliance! Good Luck!”
Jon marched to the edge and dripped down without much fan fair. The Mk 3 Mjolnir easily took the impact of the hundred foot drop though its crystalline layer in the body suit. The advanced servos of the Mk. 2 Jenkins was wearing wasn't far behind he absorbing the force of their rapid deceleration into the ground. Their rifles were up in a snap scanning around, Jenkins turning to check the rear. There were so far no hostiles.
“Nihlus, you read?” There was no response.
“Boss to to any nearby friendly forces, how copy.” He only followed orders when he felt like it. There was still no response, not even static. Their jamming was certainly advanced, he decided.
“Communications are jammed, boss.” Jenkins flatly said as he kept a watch pattern.
“Lets move, cover my ass.” Jon said. Captain fucking obvious the courser was, he thought.
He began his walk forward with his AER-20 phased plasma weapons at the high ready and searching around. They continued down the path and when Jon rounded standing rock two droned came from the foliage and opened fire. Their shots bounced of his energy shielding and he returned fire almost as fast. The two drones were scraped just as Jenkins got his own shot off at the now destroyed enemies.
“Sorry boss.”
“For doing your job? What if I missed?”
Jenkins scoffed Jon continued forward up the hill. His shield recharged in a moment as he did. While the enemy plasma wasn’t quite as refined as Systems Alliance, it was still plasma weaponry. His shielding could take conventional, or even mass effect fire all day, but it still would fall to any kind of energy based weaponry.
Along the way of the so far empty path he passed one of the results of FEV in the local eco-system. It was a floating gas bag that been forced to evolved from some gas plant. It was harmless and the people obviously left them alone. The pair moved from cover to cover, taking no more chances of being caught in the open. As the did more drones appeared form blind spots, turns, and cover. Their shots cut across the moving front fast and deadly accurate. The drones got a few shots off between the Augment and Courser but only a few.
The radio cut though after another small engagement, “Nihlus to Sheppard. Do you read.”
“I read you, Nihlus.”
“They have jamming towers up, a lot of burned out buildings and bodies. I’m going to check it out and try to link up you at the dig sight.”
“Copy, boss out.”
Up head they heard shots and quickened their pace though the small forest it cleared up and plasma fire was being traded back and forth between drones, synthetics known as the Geth he spied, and a last trooper standing for their last. Jon and Jenkins immediately added their fire to the battle as soon as the had sight lines. The both took different covers, and between the three they now had a cross fire set up on the Geth. Jon and Jenkins first targeted the drones with their hyper accurate fire, and the lone trooper never stopped against the ground targets.
When the mechanical enemies were downed Jon waited a moment more for any other threats. Where there were none he jogged over to the trooper leading against her rock cover taking heavy breaths.
She glanced, “The General, thank fucking Atom. Gunny Sgt Ashley Williams. I-I-I’m whats left of dog squad. They hit us hard and fast sir. Only thing I could do is run…”
Jon said, “Hey, it wasn't your fault. I saw you on the feed. Don’t think for a second you’re some kind of coward. Are you wounded?”
She took a deep breath, “No, sir. Some scrapes and bruises but that's it.”
“What happened?”
She took another deep breath, “We were patrolling the perimeter when the attack hit. Geth sir. My squad died around me, and I’ve been fighting for my life since.”
Jenkins said, “They have not left the veil in since before the Great War. Over 300 years. The only thing we have left to see is them physically carrying the beacon away.”
Ashley nodded, “That’s the only thing they could have come for. That's all there is on this rock right now except some farms and equipment facilities. They were digging for a monorail to expand the colony when they found it. We were brought in to keep the site secure, but we couldn’t have expected an attack like this.”
Jon said, “No, you couldn’t have. You’re with us gunny. You know the local terrain, take us to the dig site.”
She stood up straight, “Yes sir.”
She put her file back up and took off down the trench with the rest of the team in tow. She called back, “The beacon is at the end of this trench, the camp a little further. The 232 was with them, but I don’t like their chances any better than we had.”
The continued on though a couple more turns and came to the clearing for the beacon. A couple more Geth were patrolling it but they proved no match for the trio. Ashley was a career soldier and Jon and Jenkins were superior. Plasma fire cut down their shields, and then cut though them as the tried to return their own fire. Jon took slow steps though the area, clearing it’s corners and then arising it more when he was done.
“The camp is up head sir. This is where they pulled the beacon from. They moved it obviously. I would bet to the train station to get it to the space port.” Ashley said after a moment of her own appraisal.
The center was dug in, the whole foundation made from alien alloy. There were pylons that rose up around it, flashing in a faint blue green light. They whisked up and down the inlays like a circuit carved into them. The walls around here not natural formations, and it seemed almost like a complex or facility in total size. The Protheans obviously wanted someone to find the beacon, and made it immediately noticeable to anyone that saw it, when it wasn’t buried under feet of dirt. The only question was what was on it. What did they want someone to see so bad they ensured it survived for 50 thousand years, perhaps the last act of a dying people using the very last of their dwindling resources.
He jarred himself out of his lost thoughts, “Lets go. Gunny you’re still up, Jenkins on the rear.”
The went up the hill and finally exited the trench and into the camp area. Ashley halted immediately with her fist. She motioned up and Jon crept to beside her just on the top of the dirt ramp up.
She said, “I fucking saw these things General. The put a person on them and it stabbed them though. What the hell did it do to them?”
Jon looked at them though his visor, and made an assessment, “Expect them to act like ferals if they trained you on that or you've seen one.”
She nodded, “That’s just what I was thinking, from the old manuals. It’s what they look like.”
Jon also noticed their two eyes were replaced with four. He quickly pulled up the colony population statistics on his built electronics suite and read various species called the colony home. Almost a third were former slaves that refused to repatriate to the Citadel as the Systems Alliance were the once to liberate them practically the moment they found out about it, not their own people as they suffered for sometimes decades. Batarians were included in the statistic, but the ones on the metal poles were most certainly human, and human alone. That meant something, Jon knew. What he didn’t know.
He also detected some kind of emission coming from it. His systems couldn’t make sense of it, and it was almost too low power to actually read. The readings he did get triggered the constructions, and the poles flung down, taking the bodies with them. It wasn't a moment before the bodies got back up. They were full of wires and tubes, more machines than what they were. Lights criss-crossed back and forth on their gray and sickly skin. They're eyes lit up in blue hate and they growled at the trespassers that disturbed their slumber.
The flung themselves towards the pair at near inhuman speed. Jon was always on the ball, and Ashley was no slouch either. Their plasma guns worked against the foes that had not kinetic barriers like the Geth did. Their change was mindless and face first into the automatic storm of the House Industries weapons. Out of the dozen that dropped none made it close to them before hitting the dirt as a charred mess.
Jon motioned the squad forward and Ashley took her point position again. He read survivors in one of the pods, but the area was clear and they were sheltered in place. The primary objective was still the beacon. They would be alright, he determined. They went back up the hill some, and turned the corner to the vantage on the train station. As they did they heard a gunshot off in the distance, but that was trivial compared to that they saw.
“My god, what is that thing.”
“It appears to be a ship.” Jenkins flatly replied.
Jon said nothing as he took a knee to watch. How they missed that thing, he had no idea, and it hit him deep to his core. It was indeed aquatic, some kind of cuttlefish, but made of black alloy highlighted red. It stood on four legs at his bottom, and had more yet further up it’s side. It was over two kilometers all to the top of its crown. How did they miss that thing? It shot inky black smoke as it rose upwards, sparks of fire red lighting accenting the cloud as it did.
There was a faint hum, and then a horn that blasted and vibrated anything around, in particular electronic equipment. His suits systems started going haywire, HUD flickering, shield shorting, the comm yelling in his ear, twitches uncontrolled from the piezoelectric layer in his body suit laminate. How in the goddamned fuck did they miss this thing!? He thought as he nearly ripped his helmet off to breath properly.
He took heavy and shuttered breaths as he eyed down the so called ship. Its glowing optical housing, with almost a dozen sensors, stared back at him. The ship entered the smokey clouds of battle and vanished into the black.
His respite wasn't long as the Geth fire began pouring in from the station. On shot clipped his armor, and it held but told him he needed to snap out of it. The squad took what cover they could and returned it back.
Jon noticed how much more effective they were when in greater numbers. The isolated groups didn’t even try to use cover, and the Geth he was shooting down now were just shy of full fire and maneuver tactics. There was one bigger than the rest, and an obvious target for all three members of the strike team. It was cut down first by concentrated fire, and after the Geth’s tactics dived steeply almost as if a switch was being flipped.
They cleared the area and advanced into the station proper. There was another survivor, but again they were sheltered and the area was being made safe as they went. A quick note of Nihlus’s body was also made, shot execution style in the back of the head, probably only missed because of the ship distracting them. The beacon was still the priority.
They walked onto the station catwalks and fired at any Geth in the way. The plasma bolts worked against the Geth’s better kinetic barriers, and then melted their armor. Likewise they too could damage the fire team with the plasma weapons they had, a solely Geth design, and not reverse engineered from Alliance tech Jon determined.
There was plenty of cover to use, the station basically designed to be defended in the event of attack. Jon would take a position, lay down over fire, Ashley would move up, do the same, Jenkins would go even further before the process completed. Everyone once in a while ordinance would go out. They leapfrogged though down the final stretch to the head of the train. Over two dozen Geth fell this way before they did. Sometimes a hit would get though to them, but the kinetic barriers were sturdy Alliance spec and could take a hit just as the Geth’s could.
They got to the train, a simple platform at the stage of construction the line as at, and Ashley hit the button to send it forward. It carried them away down the line to the space port. Jon was angry with what he saw on the way, now having a full view of the destruction. The buildings of the forming settlement were smoking and ruined. The spaceport sat in the same state. The sky was tinged red with the fires and late afternoon. How did they miss that fucking thing, was his only thought as the platform came to a stop.
“Shit, demo charges, I bet they have them everywhere.” Ashley said as she took point.
“I am an expert in all forms of weaponry. Including ordinance.” Jenkins said.
Jon said, “You two, disarm any bombs they left laying around. I’m going to make a mess and get to the beacon.”
“Yes sir.” they both said at roughly the same time.
He advanced off the platform like he owned the place. Geth of course attempted to dispute that fact, and that only made him angry and revealed their positions to him. He aimed at took fire as the first Geth he saw standing on the platforms and catwalks of the port. One burst was all he needed for each target. His rifle snapped back and forth as he marched though the port. When the return fire became to heavy he finally found some cover and poked when it lessened some. A couple of the Geth were the big guys, and also easier targets. When they were taken out he started his march again as the Geth started to flounder. All the while the rest of the team picked at the sides of the enemy force while they moved to disarm all the bombs.
Jon got thought the port, and the fire team was handling the final Geth and final bomb. He rounded down into the loading docks and locked onto the target he saw there. A Turian that looked much like the husks he saw, with tubes and cybernetics all though, was just being put down to the ground by what he could only describe as the beacon. More Geth were however around him and reacted at a mechanical pace to his presence.
The fire was concentrated, and he had to take cover again before his shields and armor got flooded with plasma. A quick peak and the Turian was gone but the Geth remained. Jon gave some suppressive bursts while the rest of his team caught up. When they did he waved them forward will still giving his covering fire. Jenkins and Ashley moved up, and the small personal guard for whoever the Turian was got shot down by the three of them.
They were inspecting the damage, and the beacon. Jon eye the way he thought the Turian went. Ships were beginning to leave the field of battle, Geth ships. They lost the beacon itself, but whatever he wanted from it, he got.
Ashley said, “We’ll would you look at that?”
She inched closer to it, almost automatically, and Jon glanced over to see what was happening. He saw her get picked up by the device, and he rushed over in a flash to wrestle her away from it. He flung her back, but then the beacon called to him, finding a new champion to receive it’s message.
“General!” Ashley cried as she tried to get up and do the same.
Jenkins grabbed her, “You can not.”
Jon was wrapped in blue green energy, and spamming from a seizure. Once again his suit went haywire, his alarms blaring, but this time he had no control over himself. The sounds not only punched though his ear, but into his very mind. A flash, then black, a flash again, then black again. He could barely make out the flashes. Almost like the ship. Almost like a burning city. The beacon burrowed deeper into is head, more flashes, more black. Wires being formed from flesh, eyes and voices all around clawing at his sanity.
A drum beat into him, REVENGE! REVENGE! REVENGE!
REVENGE!
REVENGE!
REVENGE!
REVENGE! REVENGE! REVENGE
REVENGE!
REVENGE!
REVENGE!
A final flash, then Jon slipped back into the black.