Mass Effect (Ellie&Optimum)

[P U R I T Y]

OMEGA

​

"I'm receiving quarantine warnings about the slums where Dr. Mordin Solus runs the clinic. Anticipate resistance at the transport station. I have also accessed messages between mercenary groups regarding plans to deal with Archangel. There's a recruiting station at Afterlife that may have information on him. The bounty hunter is also on Omega, location unknown."


"Thanks EDI," Shepard responded lightly to the AI, adjusting her visor to ensure accuracy, as well as her lungs to the repugnant smog of Omega.


Shepard had undergone this first mission alone, despite the AI insisting she be accompanied by the only two squad members available. As impressive as the Normandy was, and despite the relief that came with having Joker at the helm, Cerberus was a little suffocating. The brunette may have agreed that it was time to take the necessary steps the alliance refused to, but she'd prefer to do that with individuals she could trust. How things had changed the last two years was beyond her at the moment, and Lawson had enough of an attitude, while Jacob was too willing to not encourage skepticism. She couldn't risk any potential discord, though upon approaching the exit door of a lengthy corridor, she was reminded her control over that was minimal, even as a Commander.


"Please, tell him to let me go!"


"No one said you could talk, jackass."


Rae quirked a thin brow at the accented human who forced a batarian on his knees, resting her arms over her chest as she speculated the assumed arrest. The alien held his hands above his head as if to surrender, appeasing the man for a bit. When he turned around, she put the blatant facial scar and bounty proclamation together, this was one of the dossiers she was supposed to team up with.


"Zaeed Massani?"


"That's right. You must be commander Shepard, I hear we have a galaxy to save." He stated with little enthusiasm, prepping thermal clips with minimal interest.


They'd exchanged words on a relatively professional level, mirroring respected auras though their career choices were completely different. Midway, Rae had inquired about his current bounty, though she honestly didn't care what became of the alien, mostly interested in Zaeed's method of handling relevant circumstances. Cerberus had obviously paid him a great deal, though they'd neglected (not surprisingly) to let her in on the catch she'd been anticipating, a trip to Zorya to settle some of his unfinished business. He'd shot the alien's leg at an attempted run mid conversation with no objection from the commander, and then explained he'd board the Normandy after he claimed his reward so they could be 'big goddamn heroes'. She, however, requested he tag along, and after his business was finished the two stepped out into the city, with the recruitment of Archangel their first priority.


"Heard about this Archangel. He's been giving the other mercs a lot of trouble," Zaeed told the brunette casually as the pair strode past a line waiting to enter the Afterlife club.


"I was told those mercs are recruiting in Afterlife, pretty sure it's obvious what they're prepping for," She responded, mentally bracing herself for all the possible circumstances that could befall them when trekking on mercenary territory. Her skin instinctively shone a soft blue as if a guard had been provoked, but she exhaled to calm her biotics; no one even knew who she was, they'd be fine.


Or so she tried to convince herself. A dogmatic bataraian usher explained at the entrance of the club that Aria had been expecting the commander. Shepard wondered if this something else Cerberus had neglected to enlighten her with, or if she was really walking into something clueless. Conveniently enabling immediate entry and assertive guidance into the club was to their advantage, though Shepard wasn't fond of having her priorities shifted so suddenly. She found the air this individual had, seemingly having some grip on Omega to be questionable, if not comical. However, with all the trained gunsman and prying eyes, the brunette didn't even crack a smile, instead heading straight to the source of this request, ignoring the provocative dancers and wafting aroma of sweat and alcoholic beverages.


Halfway up the stairs several aliens had their pistols trained on the pair. Reflexively, Zaeed held up his own blaster, but Rae just remained still, if not glowing slightly with apprehension. He refused to relax even when they were no longer targeted, showing blatant disdain towards their sudden environment. A nod and lengthy scan later gave her a moment to assess the asari mere feet from her, scantily dressed, facing the opposite of the commander. Shepard spoke up after clearance, "You've been expecting me?"


"You're supposed to be dead, had to make sure you weren't a ghost." Aria turned around, an expression as smug as the brunette had expected.


Although her guard was up, Rae remained cordial. "So... You run Omega?"


The asari chuckled to herself, and gestured dramatically as if acknowledging the planet itself, "I am Omega."


Here we go, Shepard waited whilst the female gave her speech, and was enlightened on the number one rule of the planet which was a rather simple one to follow.


Don't fuck with Aria.

 

[Optimum]

"Can you handle it?" Anderson asked, the volume of the club called 'Flux' easily masking his words any distance beyond his conversation partner's ears. "You've got the record to fit the bill, but I'm asking as a courtesy, Lieutenant. Can you handle it?" Anderson offered the stern yet concerned look that he'd perfected with the famous Commander Shepard. Anderson cared about his soldiers more than most, but he also cared about the good of humanity --and about Shepard. It had been a tough choice, a gamble really, but Dorian Argent seemed to fit the bill for the 'unofficial' support type. Didn't give a damn about himself, which Anderson frowned upon, but wouldn't go so far as to let his team down. Hopefully that tug-o-war would keep him locked into a useful position for Shepard.


"Yes, sir. Of course, sir," he answered, the mechanical response of a career soldier. Dorian stared blankly, face expressionless.


"Cut the bull, lieutenant," Anderson barked. "This is a conversation that never happened, about an Op that won't happen, for a team that doesn't exist. Speak plainly." The Captain often reminded Dorian of a protective father figure, lecture and good intentions included.


Dorian's expression slackened into the near-dead half-lidded, semi-disinterested expression he so often sported these days.


"Deniable Ops, I've done them before Captain," he said, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward. "I'd do anything the Alliance asked of me, regardless of recognition or deniability. That includes this." Midnight blues rolled up to meet Anderson's hard gaze --he didn't yet appear convinced. Dorian heaved a sigh. "Sir, you tell me the Alliance is leaving people with their asses hanging out, I'll get'em covered. Better yet, you tell me Commander Shepard is in need of my assistance? Ops don't get any better than that, Captain. I'm in." They didn't get any more dangerous either, he thought to himself.


"Alright," Anderson said after a long pause. "These are the mission details. No notes, no repeating, so listen carefully..."


~~~


Dorian keyed the button on the portable quantum entangler --enough space for one recording back to Anderson to let him know the operation was a go.


"This is Kilo-One Heavy, in position and commencing with operations." Short, simple, deniable. That could have meant any number of things to any number of people in the Alliance, but Anderson would know.


The lieutenant's Collosus variant armor sat comfortably around him, top of the line protection and mobility at the cost of the taxpayer's credits. In this case, for those very same people, he figured the money was well spent. After all, Commander Shepard didn't really touch anything beneath the realm of preventing mass destruction. Now, by extension, that meant Argent didn't either.


The intel that came into his possession didn't offer much, it had been shoddy and hastily collected at best. But what he did know, was that Shepard intended to gun for Archangel. When the mercs found out she didn't want to play their game, all hell would break loose. That was his opportunity... perhaps his only opportunity. So from the dark, stingy apartment that had once been inhabited by a merc lieutenant --who so graciously allowed him access to his home after a little percussive persuasion-- Dorian plotted his route, and prepped his options. Hopefully the merc's buddies didn't come looking for him. When they got over the initial shock of finding his brains smeared across the steel floor, they'd certainly go on a hunt for the killer.

 

[P U R I T Y]

Archangel's Base

​

Aria had been, for the most part, relatively cordial; enough to encourage Rae to take an edgy seat, as well as enable her to ask essential questions. After a bit of schmoozing, she learned of both dossiers circumstances- at least more than she'd known beforehand. The doctor was holed up in the slums attempting to cure a plague, oddly enough he'd earned the asari's respect by gunning down some antagonistic blue suns. Archangel was the impressive target of three individual mercenary factions, described as a do gooder of some sort, supposedly trying to cleanse Omega. These renowned thugs were actually teaming up just to take him out, and that was enough to ensure Rae had been right making his recruitment her top priority.


They left the alleged queens' quarters, and wandered downstairs to acquire more information on the sign up. She greatly disliked the club atmosphere, her ivory nose scrunched a little at both the odors and indecency so warmly welcomed; never one for the party life herself, this was the last place she'd ever visit, even if she was relieved of her status. "Nightlife, Flux, Eternity- We've got so much hell on the way, and people would rather spend their time drinking?"


"They can't all be big goddamn heroes like you Shepard, some of them accept they've got the minor roles, like factory labor, cargo stocking, stripping!" Zaeed laughed dryly, and Shepard couldn't help but expose a dimple in response. He had a point, though if she was being honest she didn't ask for the role- when it came down to it, everyone else simply backed out. "You swallow apocalyptic threat fearlessly. Some wash it down with a bottle of Jim!"


Rae exhaled with relief when they approached the merc recruit room, and the batarian offering a little more elaboration failed to recognize her upon their arrival. Both she and Zaeed managed to portray an indifference and casual identity, whilst he explained rather bluntly that a shuttle would take them to their base of operations. They'd been told that they'd get paid once Archangel was taken out, but weren't officially a part of any faction and so on, which Rae found rather amusing. Once outside, she'd attempted to formulate a plan with the bounty hunter- but when it came down to it, they were kind of winging it no matter what. If they were lucky, they'd get to further analyze their opposition upon arrival, and as the shuttle landed and another alien by the name of Salkie guided them them to Archangel's base, he really let them know what they, and the rest of the recruits, were in for. This potential recruit lived up to the illusive man's offered profile, a keen sniper, relentless in his endeavours- and had been wiping the bridge clean of these foolish newbies for weeks.


The brunette composed herself despite her chagrin for the blatant disdain for life, it never ceased to bother her when lives were tossed away for a few credits; they could be aiding the military, colonies like Feros, or repopulating as the ignored collector thread decimated humanity. She wasn't about to go patriotic on anyone though, what they did was their business, she had an objective and couldn't let widespread empathy distract her right now. Rae went along with every bit of enlightenment, even seeking out merc leaders who were less than friendly for more information. Eclipse, run by a mouthy Salarian with an ego she'd devour red tape to burst, offered little other than this was personal, he'd lost a brother to Archangel. Blood Pack, with an indignant Krogan in the lead who dismissed the pair with malice, only mentioning he'd had a run in with the sniper himself and nearly had him. Finally, the Blue Suns; Tarak, the alien in charge, was familiar with Zaeed, and this enabled some more enlightenment, though it was quite obvious that the details were just intensifying the odds against Archangel, and what Shepard and her squadmate would face when they make their intentions known. Neither voiced the underlying concern until they were approaching Sergeant Cathka, and EDI intercepted abruptly.


"I can find no other way to Archangel than the one the mercs plan to take on their assault. The mercs are also using YMIR Mechs, LOKI Mechs and a gunship to pin him down. I recommend sabotaging them before leaving."


Sneaking into the back rooms, hacking the mechs and salvaging some valuable equipment were quick and easy endeavours. It was the gunship, towering over them upon approaching the batarian mechanic that really made Shepard rack her brain for a solution. Cathka was cordial enough, and explained in detail why the bridge was their only path at the moment. "Archangel has been getting sloppy with his work, missed a few shots today. If we just keep sending the recruits out, he'll lose his fire, and then we'll kill him."


"Sounds plausible," Shepard commented casually. "But why not just send the gunship up, finish the job?"


"Hah, you think we haven't tried that? He pierced the armor, nearly took it down. I've been working on it for three days straight, should be up and running tonight though."


"If that thing flies up there Shepard, we're screwed," Zaeed commented discreetly, and the female nodded with a deeply contemplative look. The answer was obvious though; don't let the repairs commence. The batarian's sudden immersion in both sending out the latest squad (bait) and leaning down to adjust the ship gave her a moment to exploit his vulnerability; Zaeed gestured to an electrical device, and she felt for her pistol, but a stealth kill would be the easiest way to avoid defection.


A soft indigo enveloped her balletic figure as she executed a swift notion and ripped through his chest with her biotics, crushing the heart with a delicate hand and silencing him at once. She wiped off her ebony armoured sleeve with a greasy rag, the crimson stain glinting underneath florescent lights, even in contrast to the oil. While Zaeed swiped a few thermal clips, Rae took to casually dislodging an assumedly essential piece from the gunship, and then gestured for an impressed Zaeed to follow. Paragon or not, something's were necessary; more like, she'd sleep with a guilty conscious later, it's for the good of humanity, and all that jargon. The two humans blended with the assigned squad until they approached the center of the bridge, where archangel had a perfect shot at every bobbing head. He appeared in a blur of blue behind the second story window for the duration of a blink, and took out the leading men with clean shots. He managed to sloppily hit Shepard's shields once, and in response she managed a bit of a childish face in his direction.


As four recruits followed behind herself and Zaeed, the pair exchanged glances. Changing the atmosphere as abruptly as they intended always seemed like a major calm before a torrent, regardless they whipped around and gunned the recruits down with the element of surprise. One managed to alert the coming reinforcements of the betrayal, and when the sniper fire ceased Shepard and Zaeed bolted for the entryway. They darted up the staircase and rounded the corner with caution, though their approach was greeted by an unveiled turian that left Rae absolutely beaming.


"Garrus?" She was greeted by a wry smile, and weary eyes.


"I thought you were dead."


"Yeah, I get that a lot," Rae admittedly, momentarily letting down her guard. Zaeed stayed by the stairway with a cocked firearm, uninterested in the reunion though he made sure to express his admiration for the turian's accuracy. "What are you doing on Omega?"


"Wasn't sure what to do with myself after the Normandy went down- with you in it. Thought I could do some good here, Omega's crawling with scum."


"You sure pissed off the mercs," She offered lightly, though it didn't seem to really phase him. He was exhausted, his eyes, the dented armour and dwindling ammunition gave it away; he'd truly been here all this time, she wondered how long he'd been stuck in this building. She managed a half smile, "...So, it's Archangel now?"


"Something the locals call me for all my good deeds. But uh," He laughed a little, which relieved her to a minimal degree. "It's just Garrus to you, Shepard."


"How'd you managed to piss off every merc on Omega?" She inquired with amusement, though there was that hinted worry saved for those closer to her.


It was then that a missile was projected, colliding with the buildings rooftop and decimating the structure. The three peered out from the window and noted several mercs closing in, two with missile launchers, and a handful of LOKI mechs trudging behind them. "Look, I'll make you a deal-" gunfire pelted the infrastructure, and for a moment the three dropped to the ground to evade potential fire. "-You help me off this planet, and I'll tell you the whole damn story."


"It's a deal," She popped up and sent a shocking wave down alongside the bridge, sending mechs flying to which Zaeed conclusive shot on point.


The bridge turned into an absolute battlefield, layered with bodies, old and fresh, blood splattered, glinting with dropped clips and broken robotic plates. The Eclipse and Blue Suns had made unsuccessful attempts to overrun them, eventually sending out the heavy mech from before that comically turned on its instructors. Gunfire sounded till the first two merc groups were destroyed, much to Garrus' delight, and then the three took out what was left of the heavy mech, hearts pounding as they awaited the coming group. The Blood Pack wandered out, the Krogan bulldozing through every kind of shot they sent his way, and infiltrated the base, encouraging the three to line up along the staircase and use everything they had to get rid of him and the Vorcha. They came at all angles, two with flamethrowers, but of course the triumphant trio managed to eradicate the pack, albeit showing signs of exhaustion as they retreated back onto the second level.


"Should we make a run for it?" Rae asked, fingers quavering from the anticipation. Her body felt a little drained considering all the biotic energy she'd spared to keep the bastards at bay; she sympathized greatly with the turians exhaustion with the knowledge he'd been here for days.


"I think that'd be best, doubtful there's anyone left on the bridge-"


"IT'S NOT OVER YET, ARCHANGEL!" Barked a boisterous voice from outside the building. It happened so quickly; the shattering of many windows, discharged turrets vibrating through the chest at such proximity, and in her lunge for cover alongside Zaeed, Rae watched with devastation as Garrus attempted to snipe the gunship from such little distance, and was the receiving end of intense gunfire. His body hit the ground despite how hard he struggled, and he just barely rolled behind a sofa whilst the gunshio tore through the infrastructure.

 

[Optimum]

Dorian watched the fighting for some time, long before Commander Shepard even managed to find her way to the Merc forward operating base. Wave after wave of mercenary and mech dropped to the deck, heads missing or sporting a smoldering hole in front and back. Their corpses littered the bridge, brains and blood leaking onto the grimy metal to form a sort of disgusting crimson-gray sludge. Every so often an explosion would knock some of the corpses out of the way or off the edge to fall down into the heart of Omega --likely becoming somebody else's cleanup problem. Sometimes, freelancers were sent to drag the corpses back. Archangel hadn't shot those troopers, which clued Lieutenant Argent into the suspected honor of the shooter. He couldn't say the same for the mercs, they likely only cleared the corpses to make room, not to recover the fallen.


The commando made sure to keep his head down, being spotted by the sniper did not make for the best tactical move --nor did being spotted by the mercenary companies. Get shot by the good guys or get shot by the bad guys, not a good way to start the mission.


Sure enough, Shepard and one of her team showed up incognito with the freelancers being tossed haphazardly at the entrenched sniper. In all the time he watched, Archangel didn't let any of the expendable soldiers across the bridge, only the ones lucky enough to have not taken a bullet in the horde. This new wave though, all of them were dead within moments before Shepard even made it half way across the span... yet Archangel didn't put her or her companion down. Dorian narrowed his eyes, a curious development.


A lesser soldier might have taken that opportunity to move, but Dorian stayed and waited for the events to play out a little further. Three waves of attack broke against Shepard and Archangel's defense before a gunship took to the skies; the pilot screamed over the loudspeaker like a madman and strafed the building with the nose turret. The rocket pods on the stubby little wings snapped open and thick, smog-like contrails of exhaust trailed behind the high explosive rockets as they streaked from their housings into the structure's windows.


Whilst Shepard and her company dealt with things inside --namely the gunship and the dropped in reinforcements-- more troops started across the bridge. More than a few Blue Suns took advantage of the suddenly lacking sniper fire to make a run for the building. No sniper fire meant an easy in to the building, and a significant chance of overrunning the position.


That seemed like as good a time as any to act.


The lieutenant lunged from his cover and slid down the inclined roof looming above the bridge. Dropping into free-fall from the slope, he landed squarely atop one of the mid-formation Blue Suns with an audible crunch of breaking bones and squishing organs. The kinetic actuators in his armor joints absorbed the shock --the Blue Sun, not so much.


"Oh shit!"


"What the fuck!?"


"Where the hell..?!"


The confusion spread through the shocked mercs, and it was all the opportunity Dorian needed to act. Snapping his omniblade open, Dorian rammed the tip of the blade into the sternum of the trooper standing closest to him. She groaned, her voice dying quickly as the air escaped her from the force of impact and blood replaced the open space. Turning with her body in front of him, Dorian one-armed the assault rifle and squeezed the trigger. The high-powered slugs ripped into the helmet of the rightmost merc, taking half the man's helmet, face, and skull with it. His comrade opened fire and Dorian used the now-corpse of the impaled merc to absorb the gunfire.


The commando shifted and returned fire; one of the bursts splashed across the merc's torso from left hip up to right shoulder. Their shield ate the first two rounds, but the heavy ammo punched clean through the armor once the shield failed. Glittering sprays of blood and ghastly white bone exited the gaping exit wounds in his back.


Dorian dropped the impaled corpse and charged at the next attacker. The merc --just finishing his reload-- could not raise her weapon in time. Using the omniblade, Argent knocked the weapon aside. It fired and sent a spray of bullets off into to the distance to ricochet harmlessly off of some bulkhead. With his other arm, Dorian brought up his elbow and struck the merc straight in her helmet. The inferior armor buckled and her head jerked back. His armored boot came up and the actuators whirred with anticipation. Dorian struck her knee with a fearsome blow and the joint snapped backwards in spite of the armor. The merc shirked in agony, her body pitching forward until a solid uppercut from Argent planted her firmly on her back.


She writhed and screamed until the N7 stomped her head, at which point her corpse went limp. Dorian pivoted and took aim at the last two mercs, their backs turned to him as they fled the bridge. He spared a burst for each of them, the high-caliber rounds knocking them off their feet and sending them sprawling across the deck. One died instantly, the other whimpered and started to crawl, dragging their useless left arm while the other clawed at whatever fingerholds it could manage.


Calmly, the commando advanced on the fallen mercenary. Placing his rifle back where it belonged on the weapon rig attached to his back, Dorian drew the pistol from his hip. In one swift motion he primed it, aimed it, and shot the wounded Blue Sun in the back of the head. He stopped crawling immediately.


Somewhere --about when he'd been falling toward the bridge-- Dorian heard the gunship go down and figured the Commander might be about ready to hightail it out of Dodge. Hopefully, his little stunt had garnered attention. If not, he'd have to talk her down before getting a bullet in the head like some common freelancer...