//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Mass Effect: Salvage // by N00813 //------------------------------// Chapter 5 -- It's so easy to see the galaxy in black and white. Gray? I don't know what to do with gray. – Garrus Vakarian, 2185 CE -- Macedon, Solregit 25 years ago Levin pulled the trigger of the Phaeston, stitching a series of blue holes across the man's torso. Behind him, a turian woman screamed. His mate, probably. Even as he fell, the man's talons tightened around the grip of his own assault rifle; but the weapon was lying flat against the floor, and the shots went wide. Levin kicked the rifle over to the corner of the room, and promptly blew the man's head into bloody chunks. He looked over at the woman, and hesitated for a split-second before he heard Tavus's footsteps getting louder and louder. No time for indecision. He nudged the barrel of the gun up, and for that fraction of a second their eyes met. Her body slumped to the floor, a hole between the eyes leaking blue blood onto the prefab floor. Then it started to twitch, as two children crawled out from under their mother's body. They were young; about 5 years of age, he guessed, from the length of their head-combs. Still, orders were orders. The rifle buzzed, twice, and both of the children slumped to the ground. If it weren't for the holes in their heads, they might have looked like they were asleep. Four bodies on the floor. Blue blood in an ever growing pool. Levin stood over the corpses, watching the results of his handiwork. The male's assault rifle, a lightweight version of the popular Avenger, lay in the corner; ironically, the weapon was the only thing in the room not covered in turian blood. Tavus came up alongside him, and made a sign - religious, from his body posture. "Greater good, mate," he said to Levin, then turned and walked out of the prefab towards the transport. -&- Levin’s gaze met the pony’s. In that instant, he could see the turian woman’s fear and terror reflected in her eyes. He’d seen those eyes every time he’d closed his eyes, and here he was, rifle aimed at her, about to repeat what had happened 25 years ago. “No!” he yelled. Riana jumped about a foot in the air at the outburst, and even Sev, ever calm and unflappable, was surprised. Even the leader of the ponies had gazed over at him, a frown on her face. He’d forgotten to turn off the broadcast function. Some of the guards turned to face them, but the main group of guards was still focused on Sev. The group of 6 civilian ponies had shifted their gaze over to Riana. “Levin?” Riana asked, voice quiet but clear, and deadly serious. Sev, for his part, just stood there. He saw that he wasn’t in any particular danger yet, but the surrounding group of aliens was starting to encroach on his perceived personal space. Krogan territorial instincts screamed at him to lash out and teach them a lesson. His brain ordered a massive dose of adrenaline into his circulatory system in preparation for a fight. He’d learnt to fight it down over his 600 years of life, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Levin and Riana were surrounded again, but this time by a smaller group of guards, around 10 ponies strong. One of them was wearing a green plume on his helmet, whilst the others had blue; the squad commander, both of them concluded. All of them were pointing spears at Riana’s chest. It’s her biotics, Levin realized. They don’t recognize my rifle as anything more than a club. But they know about the mass effect – although how much, I cannot say. Sev’s frustration threatened to boil over. For every step they took, the world seemed to yank them back to where they were before. He let loose a guttural, primal roar. The translator broadcast the sound as spoken. The roar had the intended effect – all the ponies around him stepped back a few feet. Apparently, none of them wanted a fight. Sev felt a tad bit disappointed, before reason kicked in, and he stepped past the leader towards his employers. A group of guards stood between him and his goal. Sev barely gave them a glance as he knocked them and their spears aside with a gauntleted hand. In the corner of his eye, he could see the Celestia, her head twisted around to look at him. He paid her no mind. It was quite humorous to see the guards, probably the most elite of this country, be swatted aside like toys. From Sev’s perspective, they were. One of the guards directly in front of him, wearing a green-plumed helmet, jabbed at him with the spear. So this one wants to fight. He chuckled. The spear seemed to fly at him in slow motion, the metal glinting off a stray beam of sunlight. At this range, he could see all the imperfections in the spear – the finish was roughened by years of use, there were notches on the spearhead that spoke of former conflicts, and the spear shaft was pitted from years of impacts. A weapon worn down from battle. Sev turned his Striker to show its right side to his opponent. The spear point glanced off the durasteel body of the rifle and continued to travel towards the stock. The guard-pony’s face changed from determination, to shock, and then Sev bore down on him swinging the rifle in an upwards crescent. The guard’s face at the point of impact featured widened eyes and a hanging mouth; the very epitome of fear. Sev enjoyed the sight for about a tenth of a second before the guard’s head snapped backwards with a sickening crunch of metal against bone. His body followed not long after, and he tumbled through the air for about a meter before hitting the ground, unmoving. High on battle-song, Sev let out a roar, signifying his triumph over an opponent. The remainder of the guards stood in shock for a split second, before dropping to action and forming a battle-line against the trio that now stood together. Some of them went to help their fallen comrade, who had blood dripping from his mouth. The three had switched positions with the ponies – now, the ponies had the river to their backs. Sev ordered a retreat back to the ship. That was when the three noticed Celestia’s horn glowing. Levin recognized the sign as an impending biotic attack and slid to the nearest cover – the forest to their side. Riana hadn’t moved, and stood slack-jawed in front of the formation that was rapidly closing. Sev, seeing her split-second hesitation, grabbed her waist in his left hand and threw her to Levin, who was waiting by the tree-line. Now there was just the matter of the guards and the leader. Some of the guards saw his move and changed direction, but Sev’s roar made them reconsider, and in seconds Levin and Riana had melted into the forest. Sev heard a static-filled “Thanks” from his headset after he lost sight of them. Surrounded by ring of guards, all of whom kept 3 meters away, Sev saw Celestia’s horn light up. Biotic attack. That meant either a warp to rip him apart, a throw to off-balance him or a stasis to hold him in place. He wasn’t particularly interested in finding out which. Sev acted more on instinct and experience as he charged into the ring of guards, intending to head off into the forest. The guards in his path blanched but held firm, even as they quavered under the oncoming behemoth. Even as the guards got closer and closer, a white field started to envelope him. He hadn’t been fast enough to dodge the attack. The servos in his armor strained to push his limbs forwards, but the air started to feel denser and denser until he felt like he was wading through concrete. It was a stasis field. He’d experienced them before – the only way to escape would be to push through the field using raw power. He tried. The servos in his armor squealed as they strained to move his suit, fighting against the stasis field. It was for naught. He sighed and accepted his fate. He couldn’t do anything else. As he was carried out of the forest like some helpless youngling, he caught some sleep in his suit.