Post by Maelstrom on Mar 20, 2015 14:47:39 GMT -6
She stumbled out of the air vent, knocking the grating aside with a loud clang. Her body was slick with sweat, and her fair skin and normally-auburn hair were black with particulate from Omega's life support systems. Coughing, she pulled the dirt-clogged rag from her over her mouth and nose, savoring her first cool breath of air in over a day. Gripped by a sudden wave of panic over being so exposed, she scurried to the nearest corner, backing into it as firmly as she could. She was grateful for the concealing shadows.
The ventilation system was safer for her by far than anywhere else on Omega, but she just could not take it any longer. There was always a danger there. Fans with the power to pull you in from dozens of meters away. Seemingly-random incineration of matter to reduce the likelihood of new pathogens being generated in the system. Packs of vorcha and varren that were even more feral than usual.
It was one of the fans that claimed the last of her sisters, as well as her sniper rifle. The fan turned on, and she was able to grab a hold of the corner of a bulkhead. Her sister was slipping, but they managed to both grab the rifle. The sweat, oil, and particulate they were both covered in was too slick, though. In the end, it pulled the weapon right out of her hands, and her sister with it. She could still remember the screams, as the other woman was dragged to her death. She did not want to contemplate whether it was the sniper rifle or her sister that caused the terrible grinding sound that began with the end of the screams.
A vorcha pack was what did in her personal cloak. Somehow, they apparently developed the ability to see through the cloak in concert with the ability to see in the darkened tunnels. They had the advantage, as her omni-tool was capable of providing only so much illumination without blinding her. They were all dead now, most due to her SMG, which was now out of ammo. The last vorcha standing was what destroyed her cloak as they fought on the ground. In the end, she only won by slamming its head against a metal corner with all her strength.
Looking down at her hands, she realized that some of the grime on her hands was actually gore remaining from that last kill.
Tears ran freely down her cheeks, as she thought about the little over a week since she and her sisters stole a shuttle and escaped the Cerberus facility. Her and each of her five sisters had their own special abilities. It was her engineer sister who convinced them all that they needed to flee. She had told the rest that she hacked the computer system and discovered that the terminal illness they were told they each shared was nothing more than a ruse, their treatments nothing more than show. Supposedly, the schematics for the cryo-tubes they were soon to be transferred to in order to halt the progress of the disease were also suspicious. She said that while she understood little of medical science, they seemed designed to influence the functioning of the brain as well.
They did not even wait the rest of the day to make their move. The first one to die was the sentinel of their group. She stayed behind at the landing pad to buy the rest of them time to hack the shuttle and get ready to go. Her biotics and tech armor held long enough for her to secure the rest of them their freedom. Only as she climbed into the shuttle did they fail her. She taken out by a single round to the head.
The flight to Omega was bittersweet. Though they grieved for the loss of their sister, they were free for the first time in their lives. The engineer sister had a plan. During one of her late-night hacking sessions, she had read of an asari who could help them, who would find a place for them in her organization. They were all curious, having never met an alien before. Together, they dreamed of a future where they were all working together, free of Cerberus, living in a metropolis filled with wondrous new people the likes of which they never met before.
The aliens seemed just as curious about the five that arrived, staring and whispering to each other as they passed. Her sisters thought it must have been the armor they wore and the Cerberus emblems they had yet to remove. Only she suspected it might be something more basic.
In the end, her engineer sister's plan did not work. T'Loak welcomed them with open arms, promised them jobs. She betrayed them on their first mission. They were supposed to go pick up a package. When they arrived, they discovered that the entire building was a trap. Their captors swarmed all around them. Her soldier sister leaped on a grenade that would have caught all of them in their cover. The vanguard charged right into a phantom's sword.
The remaining three the took to the air-ducts. For the first several hours, they were fine. Then they were hemmed in. The engineer found a panel and overrode the controls while the adept and herself covered her. The system went into lock-down, and the incineration began. More than a dozen Cerberus operatives and another of her sisters, gone in a second.
That left her and the adept sister. The one who hit the fan.
Was it worth it? she asked herself. We could have let them do it. We could have let them put us in cryo. Just because we didn't have the disease they said we did, that didn't mean that it would have been bad for us. We could have just woken up a few years down the line and all been together again.
"Filthy human," a gruff voice called from over her.
She looked up and saw two batarians with gang tatoos on their arms. One was aiming a pistol at her head. The other had his hand on a cruel looking knife, still on his belt.
"Your kind pretend you're so high and mighty, that you're better than us," the one with the gun growled.
"Please, no," she whimpered.
"You're no better than vorcha, though." He kicked her. "Filthy." Again. "Disgusting." Again. "Worthless! How dare you detonate a mass relay? How dare you wipe out Bahak?"
She wanted to say she did not know what he was talking about, but it was clear he had made up his mind. Maybe she had made up hers. Maybe it was just time to lay down and die.
"Droan, ease up. We won't have as much fun with her first if she's all bloodied up."
That steeled her resolve, and she remembered that with a flick of her wrist, her omni-tool would turn into a blade. Death she could handle, but not more suffering. She tensed her muscles, readying herself to spring. I never wanted this. Never wanted to be a killer.
A gunshot. Perfectly placed between all four eyes of the batarian with the pistol. Blood and brains splattered against her, and the man's gun went off, the shot straying harmlessly to the side. His partner turned around, and a second shot blew out the back of that man's head.
She tried to get to her feet, to run, but she slipped on the gore. Sobs racked her body, and she curled up into a ball. There was nothing left in her to fight with. More than a day since she slept. Her body was bruised, both from her most recent beating and from the ordeal in the ventilation system. She was spent.
A man in armor walked up. His face was familiar. She could have sworn she saw it before, in her dreams or in memories from another life. Only, the blue eyes that felt as though they should have been familiar were a cold, electric blue that glowed faintly in their sockets, like the faint glow from beneath the scars on his face.
He knelt in front of her, just far enough away that she could not reach him in a single lunge. His weapon was trained on her. "It didn't have to be like this, Miss Moore. Cerberus isn't the enemy."
"You bastards killed my sisters," she sobbed.
"No. They killed themselves," the man said. "Cerberus is the only way forward for mankind. The only way to defeat what will come."
He put down his weapon and extended his hand. "Come back. They can help. Make you forget. Make it all just a bad dream."
Two other men in Cerberus armor walked up behind him.
She was still too far away. And she was too weak. Even if she got to him, between his size advantage and his reinforcements, she knew she would never stand a chance. Then they would have her again.
"Miss Moore... Emily, please."
Baring her teeth, she said, "I know how to forget."
With a flick of her wrist, she activated her omni-blade. Her muscles moved with lightning speed, as though they knew this was the last act they would ever have to perform. The underside of the chin. Her chin. In a moment, it would be over.
She thought she saw something in the man's hand. An orange glow, followed by a blue spark.
The ventilation system was safer for her by far than anywhere else on Omega, but she just could not take it any longer. There was always a danger there. Fans with the power to pull you in from dozens of meters away. Seemingly-random incineration of matter to reduce the likelihood of new pathogens being generated in the system. Packs of vorcha and varren that were even more feral than usual.
It was one of the fans that claimed the last of her sisters, as well as her sniper rifle. The fan turned on, and she was able to grab a hold of the corner of a bulkhead. Her sister was slipping, but they managed to both grab the rifle. The sweat, oil, and particulate they were both covered in was too slick, though. In the end, it pulled the weapon right out of her hands, and her sister with it. She could still remember the screams, as the other woman was dragged to her death. She did not want to contemplate whether it was the sniper rifle or her sister that caused the terrible grinding sound that began with the end of the screams.
A vorcha pack was what did in her personal cloak. Somehow, they apparently developed the ability to see through the cloak in concert with the ability to see in the darkened tunnels. They had the advantage, as her omni-tool was capable of providing only so much illumination without blinding her. They were all dead now, most due to her SMG, which was now out of ammo. The last vorcha standing was what destroyed her cloak as they fought on the ground. In the end, she only won by slamming its head against a metal corner with all her strength.
Looking down at her hands, she realized that some of the grime on her hands was actually gore remaining from that last kill.
Tears ran freely down her cheeks, as she thought about the little over a week since she and her sisters stole a shuttle and escaped the Cerberus facility. Her and each of her five sisters had their own special abilities. It was her engineer sister who convinced them all that they needed to flee. She had told the rest that she hacked the computer system and discovered that the terminal illness they were told they each shared was nothing more than a ruse, their treatments nothing more than show. Supposedly, the schematics for the cryo-tubes they were soon to be transferred to in order to halt the progress of the disease were also suspicious. She said that while she understood little of medical science, they seemed designed to influence the functioning of the brain as well.
They did not even wait the rest of the day to make their move. The first one to die was the sentinel of their group. She stayed behind at the landing pad to buy the rest of them time to hack the shuttle and get ready to go. Her biotics and tech armor held long enough for her to secure the rest of them their freedom. Only as she climbed into the shuttle did they fail her. She taken out by a single round to the head.
The flight to Omega was bittersweet. Though they grieved for the loss of their sister, they were free for the first time in their lives. The engineer sister had a plan. During one of her late-night hacking sessions, she had read of an asari who could help them, who would find a place for them in her organization. They were all curious, having never met an alien before. Together, they dreamed of a future where they were all working together, free of Cerberus, living in a metropolis filled with wondrous new people the likes of which they never met before.
The aliens seemed just as curious about the five that arrived, staring and whispering to each other as they passed. Her sisters thought it must have been the armor they wore and the Cerberus emblems they had yet to remove. Only she suspected it might be something more basic.
In the end, her engineer sister's plan did not work. T'Loak welcomed them with open arms, promised them jobs. She betrayed them on their first mission. They were supposed to go pick up a package. When they arrived, they discovered that the entire building was a trap. Their captors swarmed all around them. Her soldier sister leaped on a grenade that would have caught all of them in their cover. The vanguard charged right into a phantom's sword.
The remaining three the took to the air-ducts. For the first several hours, they were fine. Then they were hemmed in. The engineer found a panel and overrode the controls while the adept and herself covered her. The system went into lock-down, and the incineration began. More than a dozen Cerberus operatives and another of her sisters, gone in a second.
That left her and the adept sister. The one who hit the fan.
Was it worth it? she asked herself. We could have let them do it. We could have let them put us in cryo. Just because we didn't have the disease they said we did, that didn't mean that it would have been bad for us. We could have just woken up a few years down the line and all been together again.
"Filthy human," a gruff voice called from over her.
She looked up and saw two batarians with gang tatoos on their arms. One was aiming a pistol at her head. The other had his hand on a cruel looking knife, still on his belt.
"Your kind pretend you're so high and mighty, that you're better than us," the one with the gun growled.
"Please, no," she whimpered.
"You're no better than vorcha, though." He kicked her. "Filthy." Again. "Disgusting." Again. "Worthless! How dare you detonate a mass relay? How dare you wipe out Bahak?"
She wanted to say she did not know what he was talking about, but it was clear he had made up his mind. Maybe she had made up hers. Maybe it was just time to lay down and die.
"Droan, ease up. We won't have as much fun with her first if she's all bloodied up."
That steeled her resolve, and she remembered that with a flick of her wrist, her omni-tool would turn into a blade. Death she could handle, but not more suffering. She tensed her muscles, readying herself to spring. I never wanted this. Never wanted to be a killer.
A gunshot. Perfectly placed between all four eyes of the batarian with the pistol. Blood and brains splattered against her, and the man's gun went off, the shot straying harmlessly to the side. His partner turned around, and a second shot blew out the back of that man's head.
She tried to get to her feet, to run, but she slipped on the gore. Sobs racked her body, and she curled up into a ball. There was nothing left in her to fight with. More than a day since she slept. Her body was bruised, both from her most recent beating and from the ordeal in the ventilation system. She was spent.
A man in armor walked up. His face was familiar. She could have sworn she saw it before, in her dreams or in memories from another life. Only, the blue eyes that felt as though they should have been familiar were a cold, electric blue that glowed faintly in their sockets, like the faint glow from beneath the scars on his face.
He knelt in front of her, just far enough away that she could not reach him in a single lunge. His weapon was trained on her. "It didn't have to be like this, Miss Moore. Cerberus isn't the enemy."
"You bastards killed my sisters," she sobbed.
"No. They killed themselves," the man said. "Cerberus is the only way forward for mankind. The only way to defeat what will come."
He put down his weapon and extended his hand. "Come back. They can help. Make you forget. Make it all just a bad dream."
Two other men in Cerberus armor walked up behind him.
She was still too far away. And she was too weak. Even if she got to him, between his size advantage and his reinforcements, she knew she would never stand a chance. Then they would have her again.
"Miss Moore... Emily, please."
Baring her teeth, she said, "I know how to forget."
With a flick of her wrist, she activated her omni-blade. Her muscles moved with lightning speed, as though they knew this was the last act they would ever have to perform. The underside of the chin. Her chin. In a moment, it would be over.
She thought she saw something in the man's hand. An orange glow, followed by a blue spark.