Progress Reimagined pt 4

An enterprising quarian marine had taken some of the colony's grow lights and used them to turn the unheated storage space into a relatively warm and comfortable environment. Around ten or eleven cots and pallets were scattered about the building, and the room was divided by sheets that had been hung over electrical cables. Almost certainly one's gender determined on what side of the line a soldier slept. The makeshift drapes were not currently drawn. There were no sheets or blankets on the beds - Shepard supposed that quarians didn't have much need for them with their suits - and all were empty save for one in the far corner, somehow seeming to be isolated from the rest despite the close quarters. There was a quarian lying in the cot, resting with his back to them facing the wall. It was probably Giravi.

"Shepard, look," Tali said, pointing towards the opposite side of the room as they walked to Giravi's corner. He turned his head.

"Huh. Who would have thought."

Miranda was watching closely as a female quarian he hadn't seen before was drawing something on the back of some discarded packaging. Probably a map of the area. They were moving out soon and his entire team would be without their OTs, or shields, or weapons that were manufactured in the last few decades. With a paper map drawn on some unfortunate colonist's garbage. They were definitely going back to basics. The helmets at least had radios, but nothing that would reach Typhon's Pride in orbit. If they were to find a more powerful transmitter on the colony they could signal the ship. While it was probably too late to call for reinforcements with the speed that things were going, the Cerberus vessel could at least interdict the quarian shuttle if Prazza tried to leave the surface with Veetor. They could not afford to lose the only apparent survivor from Freedom's Progress, and he didn't like the idea of destroying a shuttle filled mostly with quarians Prazza had hoodwinked into following him, but Prazza wouldn't know that so the bluff might work. He wasn't sure how precise the gunners on the Cerberus vessel were so a surgical strike to disable the shuttle in orbit was probably out of the question. The chances of Shepard's team preventing him leaving from the ground were also minimal at best. It was absolutely critical that they reach Veetor first.

Tali leaned down by the cot and tapped lightly on Giravi's helmet. The marine's armor creaked as he turned his head to see his guests and sat up unsteadily on the edge of the bed. Tali wouldn't look directly at him. Shepard glanced around, then pulled an overturned carton being used as a table across the floor in front of Giravi and took a seat, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his hands clasped in front of him. Giravi looked at him from behind a deeply scarred visor with still, emotionless eyes. His suit seemed to be in terrible condition. Its digital urban camouflage pattern was rendered mostly useless, riddled with bumpy, glossy blue splotches that were a result of the suit's self-repair functions. Shepard recognized the green isolation patch on Giravi's left arm from prior missions with Tali. They were designed to temporarily seal seriously damaged parts of the suit until more permanent repairs could be made, but its faded color and lifting edges indicated it had been there for quite some time. He would have assumed that being part of a military unit would entail repairs to a suit damaged in the line of duty. Then again, there was probably a lot he didn't know about the implications of being a quarian with no permanent home or crew.

"You are indeed Commander Shepard?" Giravi asked him in the soft, neutral voice he remembered from before.

"Yes. I am Shepard."

He found that he was truly beginning to believe it himself. Could such strong feelings have been implanted?

Giravi nodded and bent down to reach underneath the cot, dragging something heavy out from beneath it. Before Shepard realized what the man was doing, he faced him with a battered assault rifle. For a moment his mind only registered the fact that he had not seen one quite like it before.

"Commander!" Miranda shouted from across the room. She had been watching them, and she lunged for the obsolete pistol next to her on the pallet. The quarian guard looked on in shock, frozen over the map, as Shepard quickly signaled Miranda to stand down. Giravi's fingers weren't near the trigger.

Giravi seemed to ignore the entire incident and calmly removed the carrier for the rifle's thermal clips. He pushed the top one out with his thumb and held the heat absorbing cylinder out in his fingers to Shepard as if for inspection.  Its reflection glittered crazily in his scratched and discolored visor.

"This one...was for you, before." He said it so softly that Shepard had to strain to hear him. Giravi pushed the clip back into the carrier, and seated it back into the rifle with a loud 'clack' that echoed in the tense silence. He held the weapon pointed towards the ceiling for a moment before presenting it to Shepard like an offering, palms open.

"Now...this is for you."

After a moment's hesitation Shepard took the rifle from Giravi and hefted it. Heavy, as if it were fashioned from lead. Every operative surface that Giravi had handled on the weapon was polished and worn from use. The bore was larger than on an Alliance rifle...looked like it had pieces of an Alliance rifle in it, in fact, along with other unidentifiable pieces. He tested the grip experimentally. Although designed for quarian hands, it felt relatively comfortable as his fingers slipped into the oversize channels. He looked back at the marine, who had extended the three fingers on his hand.

"Three shot bursts only. You will get five bursts, maybe six in the cold, before it overheats. Do not try to exceed six, or the clip ejection may bind or jam."

Shepard nodded. Six bursts. Giravi wasn't finished, though. He gestured with trembling arms as he went on.

"To kill, aim for the base of the neck from the back, or the visor in the front." He tapped his own visor, still speaking softly. "If you hit them in the back of the neck, you can sever the respirator, or if you're lucky, the spine."

Shepard swallowed. "What if I don't want to kill them?" Tali glanced at him with an unreadable look, but Giravi continued before he could understand it.

"Risky. They will stay in cover, quarian marines do not often attack head on. You won't get as many opportunities as you will with head shots - they have to see you to kill you." He paused, and pointed to a thin seam in Tali's suit that went around the shoulder. Her eyes went wide behind the visor. "Many nerve endings here, and a weak point on the suits. Can easily cause a rupture. If the pain doesn't drop them, the panic of getting an infection will make them less of a hazard. They will make patching any damage a high priority." He looked back at Shepard. "If you can get behind them, the armor is basically non-existent behind the knees. Difficult shot, but will prevent them from being a threat." He rocked his head from side to side before continuing. "They will need to be very lucky. Any direct hit from that rifle is likely to be fatal if unshielded. I have upgraded the damage output over the years."

Shepard looked to Tali. She stood rigidly, staring at a point just above Giravi's helmet. Was she ready to accept the possibility of inflicting losses among her people? He was beginning to consider returning the rifle and finding another way when Tali appeared to notice him out of the corner of her eye. He raised an eyebrow tentatively, and she gave a slight nod. It was a brave decision, but one he knew she would regret if any of the marines were killed. He addressed Giravi again.

"Thank you. We will try and avoid direct confrontation with Prazza's team. But this should definitely make short work of the mechs."

Giravi only stared mutely. Apparently he was finished talking. After a few seconds had gone by, Tali turned to leave and motioned for him to follow. Shepard inclined his head respectfully to Giravi and began to head after Tali to Miranda, but before he could leave there was a panicked rustle as Giravi grabbed onto his arm. He stopped and turned back to face him, eyebrows raised inquisitively. For the first time since their encounter in the pod, Shepard saw a fleeting spark of emotion flash in the man's eyes.

"You must bring the rifle back," Giravi whispered.

"I will." he assented.

Giravi held his arm a moment longer before looking at the scuffed composite floor and letting go.

"Please don't let them take my son - use him." He spoke in a soft voice gilded distantly with fatalistic resolve. "I owe him a life. More. I will pay it."

Shepard sensed that the marine had demons of his own. He reached out and clasped Giravi's shoulder. The quarian looked up at him, the wretched, empty stare making him flinch mentally. What had this man done in his past to drain him so completely? He had to force himself not to look away.

"Your boy needs you. Whatever happened in the past...pay him back by being there to support him."

It seemed trite. What else could he say? But the distant spark seemed to warm Giravi's chill gaze, if only again for a moment. "The gun kicks like a varren. Be ready." He nodded, then lay back down and turned to the wall. Tali was at his shoulder.

"That was very kind, Shepard."

She gazed at him warmly, but her concern about the possibilities threatened by the mission was clear to see as she shifted her posture nervously. He smiled grimly. It was a day of difficult questions which had their answers ranked in terms of which was the least worst choice. Whether to risk some quarian lives today, or to risk many more if Prazza's Machiavellian ambitions succeeded in lofting him into a position of power. His willingness to toss Tali aside now that her usefulness to him had ended, to use Veetor and the entire mission as pawns...these may only hint at the levels of his ruthlessness in the future. It was a courageous decision to face the challenge now with such long odds for success. But knowing Tali, it was the only decision that she could have made.

"It won't mean much if we don't get a move on. Let's see what Miranda has learned and settle on a plan of action."

He began to head to where Miranda and the guard were seated around the map again without waiting for an answer, securing the rifle behind him. Before he reached the pair, Tali was walking at his side again. Miranda noticed them as they approached and waved them over urgently. The guard at her side seemed distressed. Shepard picked up the pace.

"What is it?" he asked as he ran up to them, looking from Miranda to the guard hooded in pale yellow as Tali appeared behind him.

"They are on the move." Miranda indicated he should sit, and Shepard crouched down to join them next to the pallet. Miranda pointed to a large box on the map situated east of the one marked 'barracks' that they were probably in now. "Radio chatter relayed from our embedded friends indicates they are headed there. It's a warehouse about two klicks east, just on the edge of these residential pods."

"No!" Tali gasped. "That's where I think Veetor is hiding. Keelah..." She sank to the ground as the guard moved around the pallet to offer support. "I don't see how it's possible to avoid a confrontation with them now, unless we abandon this whole idea..."

It was difficult for him to resist taking the initiative and relieving her of the burden, but he felt what she really needed was a kick in the ass. Best not to dwell on that thought too long.

"What do you want to do, Tali? This is your show." Take command. Make the decision and reclaim what Prazza stole from you.

She looked at him with some surprise. But slowly, she returned to her feet and her eyes hardened. There. That's the strength he knew.

"We have to try. Since Veetor has taken control of the mechs, he is probably actually...here." She bent down and tapped the map with her gloved finger at a location adjacent to the warehouse. The guard quickly marked the spot with an 'X'. "There is a comm relay there that he is likely using as a hub for his control network. It's what I would do if I couldn't operate them remotely, and the shielding on these buildings makes that likely the case."  She shook her head. "It looks like Prazza is just latching onto the higher energy signature from the mechs that were activated in and around the warehouse facility." Her tone made her opinion of this deduction clear.

"What should we expect them to do?" Shepard asked thoughtfully. He had never faced quarian marines before, and had only Giravi's advice to guide him.

"They will stay in cover, as Giravi said, but will move less carefully if they do not encounter heavy resistance." Tali crossed her arms and began to pace near the pallet, staring at the ground as she thought through their likely tactics. "If they only encounter civilian mechs, even security droids, with their combined firepower they will clear the area rapidly and discover Veetor is not there. They will probably search the nearby buildings and discover him quickly enough."

The scar across Shepard's cheek itched, and he winced at the tenderness as he rubbed at it beneath the visor. It was where Tali had hit him and it was still sore, probably a little purple at this point. "What if they run into something heavier? The Alliance had been working on upgrading the defenses after all."

"In that case...assuming it is inside the facility itself, they will likely make a tactical retreat to entice the threat into an open area. That's if they aren't pinned down. If they are able to draw the threat outside we will probably run into them too. Most of them will be distracted but surely someone on the perimeter will see us and raise the alarm." She made a chopping motion with her arm. "That would be the worst outcome!" she hissed, "There could be serious casualties on both sides if they split their forces to deal with us."

A firefight was definitely to be avoided at all costs. The quarians were highly vulnerable to their envirosuits being damaged, and Shepard's team was in even more dire straits with their lightweight armor and lack of shields. Speed was key. They needed to secure Veetor before the marines realized he wasn't hiding in the warehouse.

"Ok. Here's what I think," he said, earnestly hoping he could convey the impression that he was merely making a suggestion to Tali to the silently watching guard. "What do you say to splitting our team up? We'll proceed together to about here," he indicated a crossroads on the map. "...and split up, quarians to the left, flanking to the comm relay, while we take the direct route and draw any fire if necessary."

Tali and Miranda both looked at the map, Tali unreadable behind the visor, Miranda clearly agitated by the way she glared at the neatly drawn lines and labels. Shepard counted down. 5...4...3...

"Shepard, our mission is to find out what happened to this colony. The quarians could just take Veetor before we have a chance to interrogate him." She tossed her head, her dark brunette locks somehow still perfect despite all that had happened.

Tali jabbed a finger at Miranda. "You don't care about Veetor! His behavior shows that he needs medical attention. He needs to go back to the fleet!"

"Well how about you draw their fire, you're the ones with shields and-"

"Enough." Shepard sighed. Both women turned to glare at him. He removed his helmet, tucking it under one arm, and self-consciously rubbed at the stubble on his head. "Tali's team doesn't need to be shooting at their own people. If we end up facing Prazza's marines, in the confusion they may be able to slip in and grab Veetor while we distract them."

Miranda wasn't convinced. She stood now, hand on her hip while she gestured with the other arm. "And what then? So they have Veetor. The marines will just lay down their arms and everything is fixed?"  She sneered.  "Not likely. Meanwhile," she said in exasperation, "we have one shotgun, these lousy, surplus reject pistols-"

At this Miranda tossed her weapon onto the table, and the carrier popped off scattering thermal clips onto the floor with a ringing clatter. Shepard knew it would be extremely unwise to laugh at this point - it probably saved him two more years in the tank.

"Bloody hell! And then there's this antique of yours!" She seemed to look down her nose at Giravi's assault rifle. "That is as likely to blow up in your face as it is to hit the backside of a volus at three meters."

"Miranda, it's not that ba-"

"It is!" she interrupted hotly. "And this armor - if you want to call it that. It's unpowered, unshielded," her voice rose until it was almost a shout, "and the radio doesn't even work in my left ear!" She pointed, in case Shepard was too dimwitted to remember which direction was 'left' as well.

"Don't forget outnumbered by a sizable margin."

"Shepard..." Miranda growled.

"Sorry. You do have a point, Miranda." He set the helmet with the cracked visor on the table and began to collect the loose thermal clips. "The problem is, there is no right answer - not that I see. Ideally I wouldn't have fallen on my ass when we found Tali's team, and we could have explained our presence, maybe worked together on this." He shrugged as he began pushing the clips back into the carrier. "It is what it is."

"The commander is right." a voice from behind the group called. They turned to see Jacob leaning in the doorway, a male quarian in black armor with green highlights in front of him seeming a little sullen. Shepard wondered if he was the one who had zapped Jacob with the stunner. Jacob went on, enumerating points on his fingers.

"First, we can't expect Tali's team to defend us with force against the other group of marines. We can't blame them for that, it's their own people. Second, there is no chance of contacting our ship without securing that comm relay. That means no reinforcements, no pickup. Prazza didn't leave the shuttle unguarded according to Feshul here," he inclined his head towards the guard, "so using their transmitter is out. So is retrieving our gear. Four good reasons to go ahead now."

"I still don't see why we have to risk direct confrontation." Miranda huffed as she sat back down. "Veetor can't be the only source of information. If we investigate further, on our own," she gave Tali a pointed look, "we may find the information we need without facing down a squad of better armed, better armored marines that have a penchant for staying concealed.  Leave the quarian to the quarians."

"That could be," Shepard agreed, meeting Miranda's frustrated gaze, "But nothing was ever found on the other colonies that were hit. Taking that into consideration, do you really think we have that much better of a chance? Veetor is a much more likely source of information."  He pushed the carrier back into the dilapidated pistol and held it out to Miranda.  She sighed and took it from him, holstering it at her waist.

"I don't know..."

"We do have one major advantage."  He grinned widely.  "They won't be expecting their prisoners to be at their heels.  With this old equipment, there's no energy signature to worry about unless we transmit too carelessly.  We have the element of surprise."

"And we don't see them coming, either." Miranda shot back.  "All we have is our eyes and ears."

"We'll try to keep you in our sensory umbrella," Tali volunteered, "it won't be possible to be too precise...but we should be able to alert you before you're in visual range."

"They'll detect that."

Tali's eyes glittered as she crossed her arms.  "They won't."

More than a small amount of pride in that statement.  Having faced down her damping field earlier, Shepard didn't doubt that she could back it up.

"Fine.  Unless there are any other suggestions...?"

He waited.  Miranda looked unhappy but said nothing.  Tali was wringing her hands nervously, but she nodded when their eyes met.  Jacob just looked like he was ready to go and shoot something.  Not a sentiment he disagreed with, really.  

Shepard stood and picked up his helmet from the table, inspecting its worn exterior as he turned it over in his hands.  It wouldn't stop a bullet.  It wouldn't do much to deflect the concussive blast of a nearby explosion, either.  It was designed for civil unrest, not for facing down a squad of marines.  It was difficult to put on a brave face.  Being unanticipated by the enemy would only go so far against superior firepower and they all knew it.  Distract and extract.  Their only hope was to avoid a real firefight and sneak Veetor out from under them.  What to do after that was a really good question.  He felt the weight of his unlikely team's gaze upon him.

The teary, bloodshot eyes of a young lieutenant looked hopelessly up at him in a sweat soaked garrison uniform, overpowered as the confusion of voices on the comms painted a horrible tableau.  The fear, the implicit passing of command settling like an overloaded ruck on his shoulders.  Responsibility for the dwindling numbers of young men and women shifting to a raw signals tech with a high ranking mother.

It was his to bear, the price of leadership - lives in his hands.  He looked at Tali, the young woman experiencing it fully for perhaps the first time.  But inside the immaculate suit she was not rejecting the burden.  She didn't wilt, this quarian flower of steel.

Hell, he had been in worse situations before.  He placed the helmet back on his head like it was the source of his resolve.  His team seemed to straighten as one as he faced them.

"It's difficult to understate the odds for success, and I think you are all aware of the risks involved.  We'll have to rely on the element of surprise, hopefully get lucky with Veetor's mechs keeping the other squad busy while we extract him."  He paused.  He couldn't think of a particularly heroic thing to say.  He smiled as he looked at the attentive quarian guards, Jacob and Miranda, Tali.

"Get it done.  Move out."