“She can’t stay here,” she said. “And we can’t send anyone with her. Mal’s going to need every possible body if we have any hope of holding this position.”
Hendel nodded, agreeing with her assessment of the grim situation, then ran off to find a cover spot behind one of the overflowing metal bins that gave him a clear shot at anyone coming in from the landing bay. Kahlee did the same, hunkering down behind a large steel crate filled with pots and pans.
Cerberus didn’t keep them waiting long.
The assault began with a handful of grenades lobbed through the door and into the trading deck. None of Mal’s team were positioned close enough to the entrance to be caught in the blast range, but when the grenades detonated they sent several of the crates, and their contents, flying through the air. No one was injured, but it served as a distraction as the first wave of two Cerberus soldiers pushed forward to the edge of the door.
Kahlee and the others opened fire, trying to drive them back. Trusting in their armor’s kinetic barriers, the enemy returned fire as they sprinted forward through the entrance toward one of the nearby crates that promised them cover.
The plan would have worked if not for Hendel. While Kahlee and the quarians were unloading round after ineffective round into the enemy shields, the biotic had been gathering his strength. Just as the Cerberus soldiers ducked behind the crate they assumed would give them shelter, Hendel lifted it high into the air, exposing them to another barrage of concentrated assault-rifle fire.
Their shields, still depleted from their initial charge through the door, couldn’t save them from a second hail of bullets. Both men were torn to shreds, and Kahlee felt a burst of triumphant exultation.
Her euphoria was short lived. The second wave of Cerberus soldiers—this time a group of three—followed only a few seconds after the first, using the same techniques. Hendel needed more time to recharge before he could unleash his powers again, so this time the trio made it safely to the cover of one of the bins. Protected from enemy fire, they were able to regroup and recharge their shields, then quickly strike out again.
They burst from their cover at the same time, all three moving in different directions as they scattered to and fro among the maze of crates and containers. Kahlee focused on the nearest enemy, losing track of the other two. She tried to take him down with well-aimed bursts as he moved from cover point to cover point, but he knew the limits of his shields, and he always managed to duck out of the line of fire just before they were completely drained.
She saw he was trying to work around to the far side of the room, attempting to get to a position where he could sneak up on the defenders from behind. From the corner of her eye Kahlee saw one of the quarians step out from the crate he was hiding behind to try and cut him off, only to get mowed down by the weapons of the third wave of four Cerberus troops charging through the door.
It was then that Kahlee realized how hopeless the situation was. Despite having a two-or three-to-one edge in numbers, the tactical and technological advantages of the Cerberus agents were too much to overcome. They had better weapons, better armor, and better training. Half of Mal’s team—including Lemm, the captain, Hendel, and Kahlee herself—weren’t even wearing body armor.
And Cerberus had grenades.
As if on cue, she heard a loud boom over on the far side of the deck. Whipping her head around she saw the smoke from the explosion clearing to reveal the burned and lifeless bodies of two quarians who had been caught in the deadly blast.
At least they had Hendel on their side. The big man poked his head out from behind his crate and unleashed another biotic attack, this one hurling two Cerberus soldiers backward from their hiding places, sending them both crashing against a nearby wall. One landed hard, quickly scrambling to her feet and making it safely back behind cover. Kahlee squeezed the trigger of her weapon and made sure the other one didn’t.
An instant later, however, Hendel was the one flying backward through the air—Cerberus apparently had a biotic on their team, too. He shouted out in surprise, then slammed hard against the wall behind the desk outside the stockroom where they had grabbed their guns. He crumpled to the ground and didn’t rise.
“Hendel!” she cried out, fighting against the suicidal urge to leap up and rush over to check on him.
Instead she turned her attention back on the enemy, drawing on her years of Alliance training to stay focused. Soldiers went down in combat, even friends. Usually there wasn’t anything you could do to help them until the enemy was neutralized.
She held her position, picking her targets carefully. She saw one more Cerberus soldier go down—by her count that left five, including the biotic. But all around her she could hear the screams of Mal’s people. When the Cerberus biotic launched another attack, batting aside the bin shielding a quarian armed with a sniper rifle so she could be gunned down, the captain finally gave the order Kahlee had known was coming.
“Fall back!” he shouted. “Fall back!”
She didn’t want to leave Hendel behind, but attempting to reach him now would almost guarantee her getting shot. Blinking away the harsh tears in her eyes, she lay down a line of cover fire as she began to make her retreat.
Gillian wandered back and forth along the grid of cubicles, silently counting until she reached the one blocked by the bright orange curtain. Far away she could hear the sharp retorts and ricochets of sounds she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—consciously identify.
She knew something was wrong, and she knew it was somehow her fault. But though she fought to piece together what was going on, the truth eluded her. Shocked into a trancelike state by the stress of the situation, all her fractured mind could latch on to were disconnected bits and pieces.
For example, she realized that there should have been more people around. She had hazy, incomplete memories of crowds moving in and among the cubicles. She could recall the buzz of chatter; it had circled around her head like a swarm of angry bees. Now, however, the cubicles were empty. Everything was still and silent.
Again, she knew this was wrong. She just couldn’t quite figure out why.
Kahlee said hide in Seeto’s room, she thought, as she reached out and pulled the curtain aside. The room didn’t look as she remembered it. The sleeping mat had been moved half a foot to the side of where it had originally been placed, and someone had turned the cooking stove ninety degrees since the last time she was here.
Gillian knew that people moved things around sometimes. But she didn’t like it. Things should always be put back in the same place.
I don’t like it here. I want to go back to the shuttle.
She let the curtain fall from her hand and turned away from the cubicle. Walking with slow, uncertain steps she began to make her way back through the crisscrossing aisles toward the stairs leading to the deck below, taking a long, meandering route far different from the one that had brought her here originally.
Kahlee fell back up the stairs, knowing all hell would break loose when Cerberus followed them and the fight spilled over into the cubicle grids. Even with all the civilians cleared out, the battle would become a run-and-gun skirmish up and down the crisscrossing aisles, giving Cerberus and their superior weaponry an even greater advantage.
While several of Mal’s people took up positions around the corners of cubicles near the staircase, aiming their weapons at the door Cerberus would have to come through, Kahlee made her way straight to Seeto’s room to grab Gillian.
By the time she got there, she could already hear steady bursts of gunfire being thrown back and forth. She knew she didn’t have long; as easy as it had been for Cerberus to break through the quarian defenses on the lower deck, it would be even harder to hold position up here. There were simply too many options; the quarians would have no hope of pinning an enemy down when they could simply double back to one of the other aisles and come at them from the opposite side.
She pulled the orange curtain back, only to discover an empt
y room staring back at her.
Gillian was still wandering up and down the halls when the loud noises her mind had refused to identify earlier began to ring out even louder. She saw a quarian run across the far end of the aisle she was standing in, and the gun in his hand forced her to recognize the sounds as gunfire.
I don’t want to be here, her mind screamed at her. Go back to the ship.
Gillian intended to do just that. She could hear the gunfire all around her now, sporadic bursts coming from in front, behind, and off to either side. But her overwrought mind simply blocked it out and she continued to make her way toward the stairs.
She took a left turn and came face-to-face with a man and a woman. She could tell right away they weren’t quarian—they had no environmental suits. They were wearing helmets, but the visors only covered the first three quarters of their faces, and they had big, bulky vests that hid their chests, shoulders, and arms. Each was carrying a gun, and when they saw her they raised their weapons up and pointed them in her direction.
Gillian simply continued to walk toward them, as if oblivious of their presence.
“Hold fire!” the woman shouted, lowering her gun as the girl approached. “It’s her! Grayson’s daughter!”
The man lowered his weapon and rushed forward, reaching out to grab her. Without even thinking about it, Gillian made a fist and snapped her hand out, just like Hendel had taught her. The man hurtled away from her, slamming his back against the edge of one of the cubicle walls. There was a sharp crack and he bent in a funny way.
“Holy mother—” the woman gasped, but Gillian cut her words off. Moving on pure instinct, she reached out with an open hand, palm upward, and flicked her wrist. The woman launched up to the ceiling, smashing against it so hard her helmet cracked. She dropped down at Gillian’s feet, her eyes rolling back into her head and blood trickling from her nose, mouth, and ears. Her leg twitched once, her boot kicking against the side of a nearby cubicle, then went still.
The girl simply stepped over her and continued on her way. She reached the staircase without running into anyone else, then went down to the lower deck.
She could still hear the gunfire from up above, but it was quieter down here. Feeling a little better, she began to hum a tuneless song as she headed toward the shuttle.
Kahlee was in a near panic as she raced up and down the aisles, desperately searching for Gillian. Fortunately, her training allowed her to keep her wits together just enough not to do anything stupid, and instead of dashing blindly around corners, she would poke her head out at each intersection, taking a quick peek for enemy combatants.
All around her she could hear the sounds of fighting, but she didn’t encounter any Cerberus troops until she came across two dead soldiers lying in the middle of one of the aisles. For an instant she thought she’d found proof that Hendel had survived being thrown twenty feet through the air: it was obvious the soldiers had been killed by a biotic attack. Then another thought occurred to her.
Gillian.
Since coming to the Idenna Hendel had worked closely with the girl, teaching her to develop and control her biotic abilities. But despite the remarkable improvement in her condition over the past few weeks, she was still an emotionally fragile, easily disturbed little girl. Something had set her off in the cafeteria back at the Academy, unleashing a storm of biotic powers. Now Kahlee had clear evidence that the storm had been unleashed yet again.
She’s scared, Kahlee thought to herself. Confused. She’s going to want to go somewhere she feels safe. An instant later she had it.
She’s heading back to the shuttle.
Leaving the two dead soldiers where they lay, Kahlee continued to work her way carefully through the aisles back toward the stairs.
Golo was thoroughly enjoying the battle against his former people. While he hadn’t been a crew member of the Idenna, he had no trouble imagining the quarians he gunned down as being the ones who had banished him from the Usela, his old ship.
Heavily armed and armored, he had already notched six kills during the battle—two on the trading deck and four more hunting through the cubicles up above. Given the superior weaponry Cerberus had provided him, it wasn’t even a fair fight…which was exactly how Golo liked it. In fact, he was enjoying himself so much that he nearly lost track of the time.
It was only when the timer in his helmet began beeping softly that he realized they had only ten minutes left. They hadn’t found the girl yet, but that didn’t really matter to him. It was time to head back to Grayson’s shuttle and get off the Idenna.
He knew the rest of the team would keep fighting and searching for Gillian for another five minutes before pulling back, but he didn’t like cutting it that close.
With a sigh of regret he abandoned his hunt among the cubicle maze, and made his way quickly and cautiously back toward the stairs leading to the deck below.
Inside the passenger cabin of the nameless shuttle that had been stolen from him on Omega, Grayson paced anxiously. Checking his watch, he realized they were down to just under ten minutes.
“You and you,” he said, pointing at two of the three soldiers left behind to help him secure the shuttle. “Get out there and find the controls to release the docking clamps.”
He intended to wait to the last possible second before leaving, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have everything ready beforehand.
The two soldiers rushed out to the airlock, while Grayson and the other man—the pilot who had flown the quarian vessel in—waited in silence.
He heard a loud, heavy thump coming from outside the ship. Curious, he made his way cautiously toward the airlock and saw a small, female figure covered head to toe in an enviro-suit standing in the center of the landing bay.
“Daddy?” the figure said. Though the voice was partially obscured by the mask and breathing apparatus, he recognized it instantly.
“Gigi,” he said, dropping to one knee and holding out his hand to her.
She approached him in her familiar, stiff-legged walk until she was close enough for him to touch. Knowing her condition well, he dropped his hand without making contact. And then, to his great surprise, she lurched forward another step and hugged him.
Only when he was clasping his daughter to his chest did he notice the two soldiers he’d sent out only moments before—they were pinned beneath an overturned forklift the quarians would have used to load and unload cargo vessels. It looked as if the six-ton vehicle had somehow been picked up and dropped on them, crushing them like ants and killing them instantly.
Their private reunion was broken an instant later when he heard the copilot speaking behind him.
“S-s-sir,” he said in a stuttering, trembling voice, staring at the mangled bodies of the two dead soldiers peeking out from beneath the forklift. “What happened to them?”
“Never mind,” Grayson said sharply, releasing his hold on his daughter and standing up. “Just get on board and fire up the engines. It’s time to go.”
“We can’t go yet,” Gillian said. Grayson was surprised to hear real emotion in her voice, rather than the flat monotone he was used to. “We have to wait for my friends.”
“Your friends?” he asked, humoring her.
“Hendel and Kahlee and Lemm,” she answered. “Lemm’s a quarian.”
“We can’t wait for them, honey,” he told her gently.
She crossed her arms and stepped away from him—a gesture he’d never seen her use before.
“I’m not going without them,” she said defiantly.
Grayson blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Okay, honey, we’ll go find them.”
As she turned away to head back toward the Idenna’s interior, he stepped up behind her and drew a small stunner from his belt. One quick shot between the shoulder blades and she slouched over into her father’s waiting arms.
Feeling guilty over using the weapon on her, but knowing they had precious little time to spare, he scooped her up and carried her
aboard the shuttle. Once inside, he took her to the bedroom, setting her gently down on the bed. He removed the enviro-suit helmet, and for a long moment he just stared at her face, only glancing up when he heard the pilot addressing him again.
“Sir?” he said, standing at the door. “The docking clamps are still attached.”
“Go release them,” Grayson ordered. “I’m not leaving my daughter’s side.”
The man nodded, then turned and left them alone.
“Don’t worry, Gigi,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure they take good care of you from now on.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Kahlee ran through the deserted trading deck, heading for the shuttle Gillian now thought of as her home. She was so focused on finding the girl before something happened to her that she didn’t even think to check on Hendel behind the desk.
She slowed down as she moved through the hall separating the trading deck and the landing bays, moving quietly in case any of the Cerberus troops were waiting for her. Her caution proved well founded; there was a single guard just outside the shuttle. He was standing with his back to her, one hand punching at a control panel to disengage the docking clamps on the vessel while his other hung at his side, casually gripping his assault rifle.
Gunfire might alert anyone else nearby, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use her assault rifle as a weapon. She knew his armor was equipped with kinetic barriers, but they were programmed to respond specifically to speed. If you sat down or slapped someone on the back they didn’t activate; it took a high-velocity round to trigger them. A sharp incoming blow to the head wouldn’t be fast enough to set them off.
Moving quickly, Kahlee crept up behind him, wrapping her arms around the end of the barrel and holding the gun like a baseball bat. As soon as she got within range she took three quick running steps to build up momentum, then swung her makeshift club as hard as she could.
Mass Effect™: Ascension Page 25
