Menae - III

XxX----XxX----XxX

Official Supporters:

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus Militaris, Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Death Daddy, Le Spork

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : https://discord.gg/2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i)scord(.)gg(slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) :

XxX----XxX----XxX

Note-

I'm not gonna write the rasping into dialogue for the Volus. I am doing sentence breaks for it where it feels right, though. Feel free to read them in.

XxX----XxX----XxX

"Location designation - Alexandria, locale approximate. Status - pacified. Beginning processing."

"Location - Memphis, locale approximate. Status - pacified internally, not in proximity. City-external forces continue to resist. Estimated time to collapse - seventeen hours."

"Location - Kyoto, surrounding land four kilometres in diameter approximate. Status, resisting - heavily. No current evaluation on collapse time. Request reinforcements."

Harbinger sat, calm and cold, in the void as he received, responded to and catalogued reports from all across the system and those directly linked to it. There were several thousand lesser of his so-designated 'Reaper' warships - dumb and operating on programmed protocols, or slaved to a Reaper proper - scattered between the systems, combatting the organic forces present, which meant the reports were numerous. But dwindling every cycle.

Why was obvious - all space-borne forces had either been destroyed or driven off, and terrestrial forces fared little chance against the concentrated might of the Harvest come calling. Aside from their own purposefully expendable ground forces, which suffered only moderate losses in each encounter, they had only lost a handful of assets. And all of them lesser, 'dumb' Reapers.

More than acceptable.

Even so, the creatures fought on…

Illogical. Impractical. Useless. Expected…

"This cycle's organics are as tenacious as the last. But far more intelligent in the same vein." He rumbled to himself, allowing a part of his vast mind to break away from the incoming reports to consider it. When they had laid siege to the previous cycle's greatest empire's capital, they had sent the majority of their fleet to take it back.

He had seen it cut to pieces, and its survivors sent back, scattered through the Prothean military for decades while they finally came to understand what his kind were.

Why, he wondered?

"Perhaps forewarning is all." He rumbled. With preparation came understanding.

The organics here knew of his kind, their abilities - Sovereign was to thank for that - and even most of the intricacies and nuances of Indoctrination. There would be no Alabastine tactic. He could not send indoctrinated survivors back months after a fleet's loss and see them seated in high command. His kind had lost one of their greatest assets - guile.

And they had lost their other as well - surprise.

All for the same reason.

"Humans." No… "Commander Shepard."

As insufferably tenacious and irrational as the rest of its race… He turned, continuing to catalogue reports, as he made his way towards the little blueish ball that was Earth. Perhaps he would scorch a continent and seed vids of it burning onto the network. That was bound to break some spirit…

"Anomaly detected." A report registered, "Energy profile - unexpected. Source lost within point zero, zero, two micro-cycles. Location unknown. Cannot be designated within a fifty thousand kilometers of detection site."

"Display."

Coordinates were presented momentarily - and the only things within its radius were a handful of asteroids…

And planet S-15672 and its orbital - Earth and its moon.

He continued on his course, but with a new objective - identify the anomalous source. They could not risk the Humans, of all races, doing as the Protheans had done and passing their knowledge on.

XxX----XxX----XxX

"Ngh!" He groaned, laying on his back as the alien - Volus, he'd been told - peeled away layers of the dried, semi-sterile biofoam inside his wound. They were inside a small metal shelter like he'd seen in the other camps, but with walls on every side and cots scattered inside it.

"You are lucky, Earth-clan." The Volus said, rasping and clicking as he spoke and worked. "The shot passed right through. Milimeters away from your… Liver, I believe."

"You- Ack!" He grit his teeth and hissed through them, "You believe?"

"Contrary to appearance, I am-" The Volus cut off with a wheeze and a click, gesturing at his dirtied white armor and the medical patch on his shoulder. "I am not a doctor. I am a nurse."

"A nurse should know what a liver is…"

"Perhaps." He hissed a breath, reaching over for a nozzle and canister the size of his forearm. "I am trained. To operate on Palaven-clan and my own kind. Not yours, Earth-clan."

"Not Humans…" Which is what Earth-clan had to mean. Turians were 'Palaven-clan' after all, which was what Menae orbited. At least judging from what scattered chatter he'd caught from the other Turians around camp, whenever they weren't fending off the Reapers' assaults.

And when they were, too…

More than one had died praying to a 'Spirit of Palaven', whatever that was.

"No. The Alliance handles that." The Volus hissed quietly, "As do Asari and Salarians, on the Citadel. The Colonies. Turians have… Too many differences for it to carry over well. And I'm not a doctor."

"I guess… But you're doing fine." He hadn't seen an Asari or Salarian, but he assumed they were more mammalian and similar to Humans than Turians and Volus apparently were. He grunted as the nozzle was pressed into his wound and something… Wet flowed out, stinging and chilling his gut. "What is that… Hng!"

"Disinfectant and wound sealant." The Volus rasped, rebreather hissing and whirring. "Semi-organic. Most of it will degrade into your- Hiss- Your waste system as you heal."

"Most?"

"Almost all." He corrected, retrieving some twine and starting the painful process of sewing his side up. "Small lumps will remain. Micrometers wide."

"I'll have to have them taken out?"

"If you wish." The Volus hissed, leaning back and gesturing for him to roll over so he could sew up his back. When he did, groaning as he went, the Volus went on, "The pellets will be few, far between, and harmless. Eventually, they'll be absorbed into your fat. Muscle. Harmless."

"I want them out."

"Then you'll spend a month in recovery."

"A month?!"

"They'll have to remove the flesh around the pellets. They'll be fused in. Thumbfuls of muscle and fat, gone." The Volus warned, rolling him back over and meeting his gaze. "So, a month. As opposed to a week. The Reapers are here, Earth-clan. So I didn't think you'd wait."

The Volus didn't wait for his response, he simply closed the big metal box he'd brought, hefted it, and turned to leave. John watched him go, waddling strangely down the ramp out onto the moon, and then forced himself to sit up. He'd had to remove most of his chest armor for the procedure, and got to work pulling it back on, grunting as his stitches and bruises pulled painfully.

Familiarly.

"Up and about already?" A familiar, twanging voice asked as he buckled his armor down. He turned and pulled his helmet on in one gesture, meeting Vakarian's gaze and nodding curtly. "Good. We're pulling back."

"Line breaking again?" He asked, "It doesn't sound bad yet."

"No." Vakarian shook his head, stooping down to pick up the Avenger leaned against the wall by the door and pitching it to John as he turned fully. "We're pulling back. You and I. The others are staying to hold."

"Why?"

"To which part?"

"Both."

"Ah. Fair enough…" He sighed, "Communications are down past the one-k markers. We need to get word to General Corinthus, maybe General Victus if we can. We need reinforcements, new orders, or evac. And a status on the orbital situation."

"Why am I with you?"

"I found you." Vakarian shrugged, "Corinthus has decided you're my responsibility, until we get the Alliance to answer for you."

"Answer for me?"

"Your pod landed on a moon more classified than…" Vakarian blinked, "Well, I probably shouldn't say any of that, actually. Anyway, with the Reapers here, we don't want to risk a diplomatic blah blah. Politics, basically."

"Understood." He nodded, pressing the release on his new rifle and letting it extend in his arms. His others were stowed in his pack, for now, but he'd replaced his sidearm for a Predator as well.

It'd do.

"Need anything before we go?"

"Explosives." He grunted, "Adhesives."

"Why?" Vakarian grunted, turning and waving for him to follow even before John made to answer.

"Old Innie trick." He grunted, falling in beside the alien. "Adhesive a grenade or two onto a knife, stick it in someone, run. Or don't. Same difference-"

"Close quarters explosive." Vakarian grunted around a snorting laugh, turning to gesture at the side of his face where evn John could see surgery had been done, surrounded by ugly scarring. "I have some experience. I'll get you a spare knife, too."

"Mhm."

"Not one for aliens, are you?"

"Not remotely."

"Interested in telling me why?"

"Not remotely." He grunted again. Whatever was going on, he wasn't going to give the alien anything he didn't need to give him.

Not until he knew what the hell was happening, at least…

"Hey," Vakarian grunted suddenly, "The hell is an 'Innie' anyway?"

John sighed, tiredly, and grunted, "Later."

XxX----XxX----XxX

Shepard slid into cover behind a rock as her arm curved up and over, hurling the grenade out, towards the drop off the ridge. She didn't see it go off, but she heard it, and the pained shirkes of the Husks she'd hit with it. Standing smoothly, she pivoted from one side to the other, rifle dipping and rising fluidly as twin bursts ripped through the air and into the surviving grey creature's chests. The rounds ripped through them and they collapsed.

Motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she ducked, throwing her shoulder towards it on instinct. The shrieking Husk collapsed over her shoulders and she stood, hurling it up and over her. It hit the ground and rolled over, scrambling up as she turned and put three rounds through its neck, nearly decapitating it.

"Commander!" Vega grunted from a few yards away where he was hoisting a Husk up by the neck and digging his knife in its chest. "This is the last of 'em on my end! How 'bout you?"

She raised her arm and watched the Overload send the Husks that had just come up the cliff spasming to the ground, and then followed it with an Incinerate that melted them. When no more came up, she sighed and nodded, "Same. Liara?"

"Finishing… Now."

"Got it." She raised her hand, pressing it against her head in the standard gesture to key her 'Tool into comms and broadcast. "General Corinthus, this is Commander Shepard. Do you copy?"

"-here, and we're receiving." Corinthus said, static fading out of the comm-line as he spoke. "Systems should be initialised now. Handshaking with other sectors… Twenty percent of our comm-lines are down, and half of those are inside our perimeter. Damn it all…"

"Not my concern right now, General." She grunted, ejecting the mostly-spent thermal clip and loading another in with her free hand. "Get me a line on the Primarch."

"Working now, Commander." He murmured, "Come to me. I'll have something then. First, I'm coordinating messenger runs to the black-out zones, along with a team to secure a hard line around the comm-tower. And prepping a pull-back, to harden the next battle line."

"Is that the priority?"

"For me, yes." Corinthus said, "For you? Sort of. The Primarch could be at any of these. And any of these could confirm he's… Well, this needs to happen. I'll hopefully have at least a direction for you before you reach me. Or transport, if the Spirits be pleased."

"Understood." She nodded and turned, disengaging active comms and hefting her rifle. "T'Soni, Vega, on me, we're returning to the camp. Vega, point. T'Soni, between us, keep your Biotics warm and a latent Barrier on us."

"Aye."

"Yes, Shepard."

XxX----XxX----XxX

"You stay here." Garrus grunted as they passed through the gate of one of the walls, sheltered by a ridge that had been blown through and filled in by the metal defences. The Human flicked him a look, face hidden behind his dark visor, and he sighed, waving a hand at the cots sheltered behind the wall. "You're wounded, Human. Steal a cot for a few while I get a new directive."

"Fine." He grunted, lowering his rifle. "Keep me in the loop, Vakarian."

"Yeah, sure, John Doe." He flicked his mandibles irritably and turned, marching off and turning an eye towards the stack of supply crates. Angling towards them, he called out, "Nutrient paste."

The Volus gave him one look, recognized him, and turned to retrieve a packet without comment. His rank may have been more ornamental and meant to shut him up than anything else before, but now…

'Reaper Special Advisor' carried weight, now.

He looked up and frowned, "Only took a continent on fire to earn it, too…"

With a huff, he turned and carried on, eyes scanning for the command post. A Turian resting on a crate saw him, read the look, and clicked loudly, pulling his eyes back to him as his gaze rolled by. When he turned back, the tired soldier pointed the way Garrus had been going and then held up two talons and jerked them to the right.

"Thanks."

The Turian was too tired to talk, but nodded as he stood, shouldering his rifle and turning for whatever his task was.

Garrus let him go with a grimace, and moved on.

The command post was right where his fellow had told him, two posts up and to the right. It was thronged by people, crowding around a holo-console. But… They weren't Turians. They were Human and Asari, and he recognized two of them.

"General Corinthus, Sir." He called out, partially as a warning before storming up the ramp on his six. When Corinthus turned, he eased onto a console to rest his leg and sighed. "Eastern outposts are hurting but holding. Requesting reinforcements and orders."

"Half of those are off-comms…"

"We passed through several." Garrus said, "Reapers are targeting our towers. Dividing us."

"I'm dispatching runners anyway." Corinthus nodded, "I can't spare much, but I can spare some auxiliary troopers to help take the load off of maintenance and medical."

"They'll appreciate it, Sir." Garrus sighed, turning and looking past him, at Commander Shepard, Liara and… "Who's the newbie, Commander?"

"Assistance." She answered, "To pull out the Primarch."

"About that…" Vakarian grunted, flicking Corinthus a look. "You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what?"

"You don't know, then…" Garrus sighed. The warning mustn't have reached him, somehow, then. "Primarch was on his ship when it made that run. Reapers overran it once it crashed down. If he survived the first-"

"The second killed him." Shepard cut in, shaking her head. "Damn it all… I needed him."

"No…" Corinthus murmured, holding up a finger and shaking it gently as he thought. "No, you need a Primarch."

"Oh, you better not be looking at me…" Garrus rumbled when the General's gaze snapped around to him.

"You know Victus' last position?"

"I do, yeah." He nodded, "Not far from here. A click or so. Why?"

"Primarch Fedorian pulled out of Palaven as soon as the capital was put under siege." Corinthus said, "Came here, hoping to avoid attention, refuel, and escape for… Well, he never said."

"War summit." Shepard offered, "He called it, passed it on through Councilor Sparatus."

"Ah, I see." Corinthus nodded, turning and leaning on the holo-displayer. He sighed tiredly and went on after a moment, "Regardless, whoever made it out went down with him when the Spirit of Acquisition went down. It's been overrun, so that means high-com is gone. Line of successions is muddled, now, but…"

"The Council of Generalship would have to select."

"Victus would win." He answered, "And I'm the only other general in-system for a decision we need now. Victus is my choice. Get her there, and get out of here."

"Yes, General." He nodded, standing, "I'll take our guest along, too."

"Guest?"

"A Human, long story." Corinthus sighed, "Commander, you offered an evac craft?"

"The Normandy is standing by, General." Shepard nodded, "She can stealth, land, and pull out a belly-full of whoever you want gone. We have ammo and plating we can spare, too. I'd offer medical supplies, food and water, but-"

"It'd poison us." Corinthus nodded, "It'll take you an hour to get to him… I'll pull wounded out as best I can."

"Understood."

"Good." Corinthus nodded, "Get moving, everyone. Avakus, get a hold on whatever air and ground transport we have left…"

Garrus didn't stay to listen, turning and jogging off towards the gate he'd come through and calling over a shoulder. "This way, we'll grab our John Doe and move out through the gate, back along the outer-ridge where the fighting's lightest. I know the way."

XxX----XxX----XxX

"Shepard!" John heard the Turian call out as he pressed the little syringe into his side, just above the wound. The morphine, the last of his stock, sent a cool rush through him as it went to work and he sighed and stood as Vakarian turned to him and said. "Here's the Human I mentioned."

There were three of them, but only two were Human - at least judging from the English lettering and typical numbers on their armor. The blue woman and the large man gave way to the lithe woman as she stalked forward, Avenger in her arms, and flicked a look up and down his form. A look that lingered on his bandaged side for longer than he'd have liked.

Finally, she stepped past them and grunted, "Keep up. If you fall behind I will leave you behind."

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded, "I won't."

"Good." She nodded, "Vakarian, take point. Vega, with him. T'Soni, middle, keep a latent Barrier on-"

"John Doe."

"Really?" She scoffed, "Vakarian-"

"That's what he told me, to."

"Alright, well…" She shrugged, "T'soni, prioritise John Doe, because of course, Vakarian and myself."

"Appreciate it, Commander." The large, more heavily armored man, grunted around a chuckle. "Always enjoy getting shot…"

"Not my fault you both don't know the way and have the heaviest armor." The woman answered, "Now fall in. We need to move."

XxX----XxX----XxX

Nadi Naps :

Hope you enjoy!

Enjoy Benjy :

Not on this ride, lol. Hope you enjoy it regardless, along with other items I have ideas on.

Cooldude :

It's… Complicated. In lore, some ME rifles can rip people apart, if they aren't wearing protection. In-game, you can pop heads like melons. Halo rifles, especially what Doe has, don't carry that impact. The SRS series does, but, like, that's a large bore thing. Common Avengers can, lore wise, rip people apart.

I'm aiming middle-ground, with ME weapons, more towards the games. But even so, ME weapons are just… More advanced.

There IS something to be said for comfort, though, and Doe isn't familiar with ME gear. So I'll probably have an interchange of them.

JEP :

If anything, I wanna do the Krogan stuff better. More gradual, more detailed, lol.

The Baz :

I kinda want that, lol. But dunno how it'd fit here.

CMDR Kovacs :

Mine's funnier tho. XD

Believer :

Alpha Nine won't be on the adventure with him, no. >.>

Old Fan (Guest) :

Parts felt rushed, and some decisions weren't revealed until way too late, like the Forerunner-Earth connection. I want to rectify much of that.