Chapter Text

In the Shadow of Gods

Chapter I

Breathe

_.-~*~-._

Had the mercenary vessel dropped out of FTL forty minutes later, they would have survived. They would have been able to make a jump of their own. As it was, with the couplings between the drives and the Mass Reactor of the Athens still disabled, the deep-space exploratory science vessel was dead in the water, a wounded oceanic mammal of some distant planet, as the predator lowered its head over its barely living prey.

A GARDIAN laser began a relentless barrage into the reinforced plating, aiming directly for the aft power couplings that linked the Mass Reactor to the main drives. Such precision could only come from someone who had an understanding of the internal schematic of the human-designed, decommissioned carrier vessel.

The Athens had never been beautiful, but she had been a marker of human ingenuity, a testament to the achievements of a species in its space-faring infancy. Her Mass Reactor was clumsy by modern standards, but humanity – a species marked by inventing things, and then using those things to kill one another – had prepared for the eventuality of conflict in even the most juvenile of interstellar travels. But now, stripped of her teeth and claws, the Athens was helpless, dead in the water, as death loomed.

The artificial gravity, which had taken the occupants of the vessel two hours to repair, cut off once again. This time it wasn’t just a power overload and rerouting issue. Now it was a crippling fissure in the vessel’s flank that vented atmosphere like gouts of blood.

Scientists of all species cried with renewed alarm as they drifted helplessly through the halls. A moment later the back-up gravitational generators located in several hubs within the Athens kicked into gear, and everyone and everything came crashing back to the deck.

An explosion ripped through the port side of the vessel, blowing off a large section of plate. Those that were not fortunate enough to have been killed instantly in the detonation were pulled into space. Explosive decompression was a thing of ancient myth, but those caught within the vacuum would wish it was not. Blood bubbled in their veins as the boiling temperature of the fluids in their body dropped rapidly. Those who did not scream into the emptiness had a momentary flash of agony as their lungs exploded inside their rib cages. Those who did scream had about fifteen seconds before they passed out, depending on biological composition.

Death was quick, dying was agonising.

The mercenary vessel disgorged smaller transports, all of them finding fissures in the hull of the Athens. Stripped of her weapons and devoid of any sort of defensive force aside from a small, almost cursory security detachment more suited to killing varren than other armed forces, the end was inevitable. As the mercenaries trickled through the wounds like maggots into a corpse, everyone aboard knew it as well.

_.-~*~-._

I’m going to die.

Shaking fingers, stained with her own blood, tapped a hasty dance across the access panel. She got the code wrong twice before the iris finally opened into the circular sterilisation chamber that joined the Athens to its discovery.

I’m going to die.

Picking up her stolen weapon, xenoecologist Lauren Kincaid half stumbled, half fell through doorway, closing it behind her. She smeared blood along the dark metal of the floor. Blood from her own injuries, as well as the blood that had soaked into her uniform, splashes of lurid colour from every species. Once, keeping the environment beyond the chamber as clean and natural as possible had been paramount. Now, it was a laughable priority.

Unlike the ship she had come from, the once-glorious SSV Athens, this new vessel was dark, almost crude in its design. Absent were the sleek surfaces and the curved aesthetic that had been adopted from the Mass Relays, or the influences from races such as turian, asari, or salarian. Instead, it was almost Spartan in its design, bare of anything but the bare essentials. Even less than that, in some places. Panels were absent from walls, exposing the wiring within, and there was barely enough lighting to see the passage, necessitating the use of jury-rigged illumination that drew light from the Athens.

Lauren tripped over the cabling laid out along the floor for those very lights, falling to her hands and knees. Sobbing, she crawled a few feet to the gun that had fallen from her grasp, almost landing on her face in her haste to rise. Slinging the weapon over her shoulder, she darted to a ladder and began a slow climb, favouring her injured right arm, a hole bored through her bicep and the injury to her right ankle, twisted in her flight.

With a grunt she heaved up the hatch laid over the portal and climbed up. Rolling onto her back, she kicked the panel back into place, crab-walking backwards. Her injured arm gave and she fell onto her back, the wind rushing out of her chest.

I’m going to die.

For a moment, she indulged in her distress, hugging the gun to her chest and crying in the otherwise silent room. She was only thirty-two. She was a genius human who had been given the rare chance to accompany alien scientists to explore the uncharted regions of the Attican Traverse, between Council Space and the Terminus Systems. Places that held fountains of knowledge and endless potential for discovery.

Indeed, one such discovery had been made mere days before, the likes of which had blown the minds of everyone aboard, regardless of their species. Even Lauren had been gripped by the throes of excitement as each moment unveiled the enormity of their discovery.

A ship. Floating in space. Of unknown origin.

And then, on board.

A human life form.

The possibility of life – any life – evolving mirrored on two planets was so astronomically miniscule it might as well be considered impossible. Especially within the same galaxy. It was a subject of lunchroom debates, along with alternate universes and time travel. For someone to discover parallel evolution would shatter their understanding of the galaxy as it stood, especially on the opposite side of the galaxy to Earth. It would be bigger than discovering the Mass Relay technology. Bigger than even if they found a living, breathing Prothean.

But now that they had found it, now that they stood on the cusp of undoing every concept of evolution, they were going to die for that discovery.

I don’t want to die.

Lauren slowly rolled over, struggling to breathe through the last throes of her panic attack. She clawed her way to her hands and knees, dragging her gun behind her. She had lifted it off a security staff member, pulling it from the dead turian’s hands in the chaos. She had a genius-level intellect and a weapon with nearly no kickback was easy for her to use, though aiming was difficult. Not that it mattered. She discovered body shots would do just fine.

Lauren limped to her goal, the massive cryostasis chamber, the only occupied one in the entire vessel.

Lauren beat on the glass with the butt of her stolen weapon, sobbing so hard that she struggled to breathe between the convulsive gasps. “Wake up.” Another blow. “Please wake up!” She rested her shoulder against the glass, her blood slicking the cold surface, and stared at the green armoured humanoid beyond. “They’re coming and we can’t stop them. They’re gonna take you and do who knows what with you. Please. Please wake up.” She flattened her free palm against the glass, nails scratching in vain. “I’m sorry we took that AI! I’m sorry we left you in here! But you have to wake up now.” She hefted the weapon again – lifted from the corpse of a dead security officer – and struck, punctuating each word with another blow. “You! Have! To! Wake! Up!”

_.-~*~-._

“Please. Please! I don’t know where they took it! I don’t know!”

The gun reported once and the human fell backwards with a sickening splat, his brain splashed across the corpses of his fellow scientists, similarly executed when they failed to provide the information requested.

The smoking gun lowered, the air disturbed with a sigh of annoyance. Then the weapon tracked across to the last remaining survivor, a woman. A bullet had destroyed her knee and her face was white with agony and lined with hate-filled defiance. Though tears were tracked on her cheeks, he already knew that this woman would not surrender the information he wanted, even if she did know it.

The gun pointed between her eyes.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

The woman’s head snapped back as the bullet shattered the bridge of her nose, sending blood, bone and brain matter spraying out over the wall behind her. Her neural pathways mistook her massacred brain as firing signals, like sparks thrown from an exploded light, sending her limbs into spasms and holding her sitting upright for a moment longer. Then she collapsed forward onto the man in her lap, his own life bled from the myriad of holes in his chest. Fabric uniforms were no armour against withering gunfire.

The mercenary lifted his hand to key the communicator on the side of his helmet. In recent times, all hardsuit HUDs came with a communication interface activated by tracking the neural interface and optical focus, but he preferred the manual interface. “This is Kubric in the labs. Negative on the location of the AI, sir.”

_.-~*~-._

At another section of the ship the commander of the detachment, former Systems Alliance Marine Corps Master Sergeant Thomas Helmsley, rested his rifle against his shoulder and scowled. “It’s not there?”

+If it was here, it’s been moved.+

“Moved where?”

+They didn’t leave a note.+

Helmsley bit the inside of his cheek against the smartass response. He was a goddamn Master Sergeant for a reason, and he expected some respect from this moronic group of gun-happy dickheads. Apparently, however, that was too much to ask for. The undisciplined lot couldn’t make a formation if he painted a marker on the floor for each of their feet, let alone understand how to use proper radio contact.

Helmsley jerked his hand at a nearby trooper, who dragged the bruised and bloody drell male toward them. His frills were puffed in fear, and his hardened carapace was cracked, the softer, fleshier parts darkening from the repeated blows.

“Where is the AI?”

The drell stared at it, his inner lids flicking rapidly. Then he closed his eyes.

“Arashu, goddess of protection, take m-”

The bullet cut off his inane prayer to his non-existent deity and Helmsley groaned in exasperation.

“This is a ship full of fucking scientists.” He spoke on the open comm channel. “Are you telling me that they are hiding a goddamn AI from you? It’s not like we’re looking for a credit chit. Someone show me some innovation and get me that goddamn AI.”

+Helmsley.+

His eye twitched. The voice belonged to one of the shadow operatives attached to Helmsley’s force and spoke on that very open channel, letting everyone hear him. Normally consisting only frontline troops, the addition of the two assassins had left Helmsley with a foul taste in his mouth. He was never one for covert ops, and Kardevich and Fielding epitomised the reasons behind it. Helmsley had some unstable, trigger-happy thugs in his group that barely had a sentient thought between them, but Kardevich and Fielding were pure, A-grade psychopaths.

“What is it, Fielding?”

+I found the first subject.+

“Good. I am glad that you were able to find the single living organism on a vessel that is a quarter of the size of this one. Can you ask your very happy guide to disclose a potential secondary location they might have taken the second subject extracted from the vessel?”

A beat.

“What?”

+I already killed him.+

Hemlsey bored his fist into his forehead.

+Wait. We have a volunteer.+

_.-~*~-._

Lauren knelt at the base of the cyrostasis pod, panting, sobbing, and trying not to throw up. She couldn’t get it open. There was no release catch. There was no emergency open valve. Or, at least, if there was, she couldn’t locate it. She was dizzy, but she couldn’t be sure if it was from pain, or blood loss, or fear. When a shadow passed over her, she didn’t process the danger at first. Instead she lifted her head in an exhausted fugue and froze when she realised that she was no longer alone.

He was slender, lithe, and clad in a form-fitting combat suit that seemed halfway between a skinsuit, which was typically worn beneath an external armour set on soldiers, and technological augmentations. Indeed, the man could have been a cyborg if it wasn’t for the subtle bunching of microfabric around his joints. His head was wrapped entirely in a cowl, a single ocular lens located over his left eye, and connected to a visor that extended around the right side of his head.

In one hand he held a bladed weapon, slick with red blood.

The blood had Lauren moving, and she shoved backwards from the cyrochamber, her gun falling away, forgotten. Her injured arm took her weight for a second and then finally gave out. As she fell, a hand wrapped in her hair and jerked her up. She gasped – all she could manage, before she was swung sideways and thrown into the cryochamber she had been trying to open. The wind rushed out of her and she started to slide down. Her attacker grabbed her face, wrapping his gloved hand around her mouth, holding her still.

“Do not scream.”

Lauren trembled violently as she stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. She was going to die. She knew it. She knew she was going to die. The sword twirled and the bloody tip rested against Lauren’s cheek. “I will lift my hand, and when I do, I want one answer. Fail to give me the answer I want, and I will carve out your eye.” His hand lifted slowly. “Where is the AI?”

_.-~*~-._

Three thousand kilometres out a ship dropped out of FTL and began its silent cruise toward the conflict. Sleek and fast, the white vessel was designed for infiltration without detection. Seven hours prior they had picked up a strange distress signal that begged investigation. The only Council-sanctioned vessel in the vicinity, they had immediately plotted a course to the Athens, a private exploratory science vessel. Strategic pathway planning by the talented pilot and his genius on-board AI suite had plotted a course around an exploding star that had slingshot them into a nearby Mass Relay’s range, cutting their travel time down by two hours.

In the belly of the vessel, a three-man team – actually a one-male, two female team – was arming for the coming fight. Armour seals were checked and rechecked, ammunition stores were maxed out, and the debriefing was quick and curt. They knew their mission. A civilian scientific exploration vessel had released a distress call. Whilst the contents were confusing, the important message was not lost in translation – they needed help, and now.

+We’re on approach. Three minutes to contact. And we are not alone.”

_.-~*~-._

+Sir!+ As Helmsley contemplated randomly shooting someone in his frustration, he heard the communications officer and XO of his frigate, the Venom, burst into his ear with a gut-wrenching sense of urgency. +We are being hailed!+

Hailed? “Patch it through, Kreis.”

There was a burst of static as the XO did just that. +Unknown vessel. This is Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance Na-+

Helmsley didn’t even wait for her to finish. “Helmsley to Venom. Engage the Normandy!”

+Venom engaging. Opening fire. Pulling away from the Athens. We are in pursuit.+

“Radio me with a kill and no sooner.” He clenched his fist. Commander Abigail fucking Shepard. Of all the things that could be among the last things he wanted to encounter, she had to be right at the bottom of the list. “And tell the Deliverance that the Normandy is here.” As much as it galled him to admit it, they were going to need reinforcements. Shepard’s three-man teams were infamous in wrecking everything in their path, and his ragtag group of dumbasses with guns wasn’t going to be able to stop her any more than the Blue Suns or Blood Pack.

“This is Helmsley to all forces. Execute all prisoners. No survivors. Prepare to withdraw.” Helmsley began striding from the FOB, throwing up a hand signal to begin to disassemble and pack it away. “Get a team to Subject One and prepare for extraction. Fielding. Have you made progress on the AI?”

Oh come on. Helmsley came to a stop and pressed his finger to his ear comm, as if that would somehow conjure Fielding’s voice. “Fielding. Please respond. Have you made progress to the AI’s location?” As the silence stretched, Helmsley wondered what else could possibly be going wrong. “Kardevich.”

+He is not responding to my comms, either,+ hissed the accented voice in his ear. It sounded like Kardevich was running. No doubt already hurling himself to find Fielding.

Helmsley felt sick. Fielding was a psychopath, but he was also a professional. He would respond to comms. Especially if his ‘blood brother’ Kardevich was also trying to hail him. Something had gone wrong at the first subject, and the second subject was still MIA. Now Shepard had arrived with the cavalry.

This was going to shit, and fast.

_.-~*~-._