Liara T'Sonni
"Too many events for one time."
That was all I could think about, leaning my back against the cold wall of the underground complex. Even if the cold isn't felt through the armor, it doesn't stop me from leaning back and imagining it. The silence and peace of the underground complex are quite conducive to relaxation. No hum of machinery, no wind, no movement. Even the light from the ceiling panels falls evenly, as if it were daylight, despite being deep underground. It's somewhat relaxing.
I can admit to myself: this week rightfully takes its place among the most dangerous. Right alongside the battle against Sovereign, the hunt for me by the Shadow Broker, and the Reaper Invasion.
Not on a global scale, of course; Sovereign could have affected the entire galaxy, as could the Reapers. But back then, I also had to actively dive into the thick of it, trying to do everything right. Risking myself, risking those around me. But back then, Shepard and the crew of the SSV Normandy were by my side—an insanely lucky team of masters at crawling out of any hole. This time, I have to manage on my own. And there's no time for a breather.
First, the kidnapping of Li, the running around trying to get her out and fend off the Salarian mercenaries and Aria T'Loak's people. Then that strange Batarian, the unknown ship with the strange engine, the massive ring—after seeing it, saying the Citadel is big feels somewhat awkward. And finally, the army of robots defending this Ringworld and the wound—and they aren't Geth. Now we're all trapped in this dungeon, robots outside, the ship is wrecked, and it's unclear where to go next. We can't stay; sooner or later the robots will get here, and we need to sleep.
The wound was unpleasant; a huge robot showered the elevator platform with red crystals, like a rain of bullets—very fast, sharp, and exploding upon impact.
With the predictable result: everyone who didn't have armor stayed there, torn to shreds. I was luckier; I was stunned, slightly wounded, and bruised. I had armor, so I was only concussed and the armor itself was dented. The Quarians had it worse; their suits were torn almost across the board. And now a much more unpleasant fate awaits them, even if they survived. Infections with nowhere to treat them. But it's still better than death.
I managed to come to my senses, patch the armor, and get some medical treatment once we were downstairs. Li, sitting nearby, injected some medication to boost regeneration and get me back on my feet. My head is throbbing, my ribs ache, but now I can move quite steadily. The younger girl looks tired but is holding up; she sits nearby, staring into space.
"Li, how are you?"
We hadn't actually talked yet; there just hadn't been time. Li sighed heavily.
"I suppose I should be happy," she explained at my questioning look, "well, we're in an underground complex of an unknown race. As an archaeologist, I should be ecstatic. But I'm tired, Liara. So many dead, so many problems. There, at the elevator, up top. The robots were killing everyone, you know? Well, yes, you saw. Sorry. How do you deal with this?"
I laughed sadly, causing Li some confusion.
"Did I ever tell you how I met Shepard?"
"No," she shook her head.
"We were exploring an ancient Prothean city when the Geth attacked. The buildings had sunk into the ground to their full height; miners found them, so we were in a mine with nowhere to run. The Geth killed almost everyone, and I ended up trapped in a Prothean security system, suspended in the air. Unable to move for over a day, maybe two or more, I don't know. Because of the heat and dehydration, I started hallucinating; I didn't understand where I was or what was happening. I panicked, got hysterical, tried to scream—all sorts of things happened during those days. I thought no one was coming; there were kilometers of tunnels and a bunch of killer robots, Geth in my case. When Shepard and the team arrived, I was half-dead, smeared in my own sweat and waste, delirious, having almost given up. So I thought that you, in a sense, got a similar adventure."
I didn't say "if we get out." We're being listened to anyway; I need to at least pretend to maintain optimism. We left half of our soldiers at the entrance in case the robots come, to fight them off. But they need morale too.
Li tried to smile and remarked:
"Yeah, it sounds similar," she looked at the other sentients in the hall, "You know, they all thought they were flying to an excavation of a Prothean archive. That's why there are so many Quarians here; they were promised some of the data for their Pilgrimage. A contract was signed on behalf of an institute in the Terminus Systems, with the Bank of the Vol Protectorate as the sponsor. And they brought us here. Try to stand up; the medicine should have kicked in by now."
I nodded and, with some effort and a hiss, stood up. My ribs hurt, still. Fine, I'm ready to continue. I nodded to Li, looking around. We had occupied a long room with...
"Is that a bridge made of light?"
A Quarian, examining a column with glowing schematics in a niche, replied:
"Some form of hard light. Excited photons have displaced the air around the light path, which means the light has become coherent and solid. Something like Omni-tool mechanisms, but we need mass fields for that, and here there are thirty meters of stable bridge, four meters wide, without anything similar. Amazing! This probably isn't even the limit!"
I nodded.
"Yes, a strange place. Where are the others? The robots haven't appeared?"
A massive hall of gray metal with walls narrowing toward the ceiling, the light bridge, and inscriptions in unknown symbols. If I had a bit more time, I'd live here, and so would Li—this is a complex of an unknown civilization! But right now, safety and survival are more important. On the platform were a couple of Turians, a couple of Quarians, a man and a woman, a couple of commandos, and Li and I. The others had gone somewhere while I was semi-delirious.
"They went deeper into the complex," the maiden replied, "scouting. This place is huge; further in, it's just endless identical halls in every direction. No sign of the robots yet, but we need to find another exit. We can't exactly go back out to the robots."
Indeed, remembering that giant with the crimson darts that it fired like a heavy machine gun, which punched through kinetic shields and chewed up the survivors in an instant... It's better we don't go there.
"What about food, supplies? I'm not sure there's anything edible here."
Li sighed.
"Not much medical supplies, especially for the Quarians. Just what we had on us—field medkits."
"The wounded need antibiotics; the Quarians' suits were torn, I saw. We have a problem—essentially a timer before they start getting very sick and dying."
Li shook her head.
"I have a little, and a few others who grabbed some. The rest fled empty-handed when the robots started killing. They aren't soldiers; they're civilians, spacers. We have nearly thirty survivors here and almost no food, few serious medical supplies, and even fewer for dextro-amino users. No water either. We have problems. So we find an exit; there's no other way."
I sighed with a hiss, agreeing with the assessment of our problems. I wished so much that all these robots weren't here, so I could give in to the archaeological urge and examine, record, and document everything. It turns out the Salarians had been hiding something like this from everyone all this time!! No, in theory, there are no grounds for complaint; the treaty on sharing technology only covers Prothean tech, and this place, let's be honest, doesn't look like Prothean architecture at all.
But who in the Citadel Council would care about such trifles? Even regarding the robot army, one could say that with the help of Citadel forces, the complex would have been captured and studied long ago. Yes, jointly.
But instead, the Salarians decided to hide everything, keeping the information only for themselves. And they will be reminded of this; it will be an information warhead that can be used to blackmail every single Dalatress or hit them over the head at will. Now, just one small thing left. Right. Getting out.
As if reminding us of their presence, the door at the far end of the hall hissed open, letting robots through. The squad immediately dove for cover, myself included, assisting myself with biotics.
"Fire!"
It wasn't particularly difficult. The robots can't dodge; in the narrow passage into our hall, they simply have nowhere to go. We could pelt them with biotics and Tech Powers without even aiming particularly well, which meant not exposing ourselves to fire. And the large robots simply couldn't fit through to us. As a result, our enemies were compact and not particularly durable small robots. On the level of Geth soldiers, but stupider.
"That's more like it," the Quarian noted with satisfaction, "in the tunnels, no robots can handle us."
The robots realized this too and retreated, leaving a pile of scrap metal in the passage. Suddenly, a cry came from behind:
"Run! Get out, we have to leave!"
I turned to see another pair of commandos and a group of civilians. They ran out of the door on our side of the complex. And they were terrified? It was clear they had run fast; the civilians were breathing heavily, clutching the walls—something back there had impressed them. Or scared them. The squad immediately turned, aiming at the door, expecting robots or some other horror. But no one came; the door closed quietly.
"What is it?" a Turian from our squad asked, "Is there an enemy there too?"
"Undead," the asari gasped.
Everyone looked at her. Incredulously. Was she hallucinating? Though, right now, I was almost ready to believe that in a complex of an unknown race guarded by robots, there would be undead. Why not? Or Husks. Li knows about them from my descriptions, but it's one thing to know, another to see and fight them. These sentients might not even know that much.
"Undead?" Li asked doubtfully.
Immediately, those who had come from the depths of the complex began to clamor, confirming: yes, there are undead. They were exploring rooms that were all boring and identical when a side door was kicked in and creatures swarmed them—killing, infecting, and devouring. In the bloated bodies, they barely recognized those who had entered this dungeon but had gone the other way. Dumping this information on us, the squad began to twitch, wondering where to run. They were afraid.
"We need to leave," Li nodded, offering a hand, "we're between the robots and these Husks; we'll just be crushed if we stay. This way, maybe they'll delay each other."
Some sentients, seeing that we weren't rushing, bolted through random doors on the left and right of the platform. Finally, the military personnel came to their senses a bit, and it became clearer what had attacked them. It was terrifying and incomprehensible even to them.
"Inside the complex, in the halls, there are capsules with some kind of lifeforms. Either the robots attacked, or someone broke them by accident, I don't know, it doesn't matter," a commando said, "but these things started infecting the civilians. We shot them in the head, in the body, but it didn't help. They got back up! And then one of those things attacked with biotics..."
The commando spoke, and I remembered the Husks. First, there were the human ones, those created by the Geth using "Dragon's Teeth." Then Husks from other races appeared. "Cannibals" from Batarians—they were hit by the harvest first—then there were "Banshees" (asari Husks from Ardat-Yakshi), Collectors, Brutes (a Krogan and Turian fused together), "Marauders" from Turians, and many others. Filth created by the Reapers as a cheap and rapidly replenishable army...
My cheek stung, and I saw a displeased Li looking at me.
"Sorry, but we don't have that much time. If they aren't joking, we need to leave. Now."
Wincing again from the pain, I sighed and followed the squad.
"Yes, let's go."
We moved into a side corridor, and I was finally able to appreciate the local beauty—or rather, the lack thereof. Standard gray rooms of various sizes, in four standard configurations. A hall with light bridges and three types of halls for different numbers and sizes of capsules, connected by corridors.
This place certainly doesn't look abandoned. Empty, yes—among the gray halls, there is a lot of unoccupied space—but abandoned, not at all. Clean halls with fresh, non-stale air, lights burning on the ceiling, working machinery and terminals in an unfamiliar language with holograms glowing with unknown symbols. No alarm signals or anything of the sort; silence and order. As if there were no robot army and no undead.
"As an archaeologist, I can say the structures aren't Prothean," Li noted, turning her head in all directions.
I nodded.
"Agreed, not their architecture, not their language. This place, it's like new. Prothean ruins have been abandoned for a long time. This is as if it was built yesterday and the builders just left."
The only things that stand out are the capsules placed either in the center or against the walls containing this... this. I just don't know how to describe a lumpy sack of flesh with legs and antennae. And in each capsule, under the rhythmic clicks and quiet hum of equipment, these things are kept. It seems they are stored here in stasis. For some reason.
"These things are what turn people into zombies. Maybe they were being studied here," a Batarian civilian said, pointing at a capsule, "they attacked too, with the undead. Or maybe it's a lab where they were bred. You know, an army of undead, a biological weapon."
"Possibly," the Quarian, Rael'Zorah, agreed, "maybe this ring is a military base."
"And the robots are the guards? Well, then we have problems," the Turian woman concluded, "there could be other security systems here too. And enemy soldiers."
There were about fifteen of us gathered. Six asari commandos, Li and I, two Batarians, four Quarians, a Salarian, and two Turians. Where the others were, we didn't know. Where we were going... we didn't really know that either. Just away. Yes, it's stupid, but the alternative is to sit and wait until we're slaughtered.
"Where are we actually going?" I finally asked, looking at yet another standard hall that was no different from the previous ones at all. Maybe the others were scared, but for me... We, the crew of the SSV Normandy, had already fought Husks; I thought it would be sensible to give them a fight. I didn't think I'd see anything new. In a narrow passage, it wouldn't be hard to kill them. But the others decided otherwise: to run.
The squad passed through another hall, then stopped. It seemed they had calmed down a bit, and the sentients relaxed slightly.
"Maybe we're far enough, maybe we've hidden."
"Then, a break."
The squad sat down right on the floor—fortunately, it was clean—in yet another standard hall. I wondered if the Quarians could be here without their suits, or if it still wasn't clean enough. While the others sat, I approached a capsule, recording video on my Omni-tool. When asked, I explained easily:
"I need to film everything here. These recordings will be useful to us. I'll sell them later; I think the military will like it."
Everyone agreed with this, and Li and the others spread out, filming everything in sight on their Omni-tools. This was good not just for the recordings, but as a distraction. We don't know where to go, where safety is, what we're going to eat, or when. We can't do much for them; let them be distracted and busy.
"Has anyone seen Vorhess?"
The commandos looked at each other.
"No," the others confirmed, "he disappeared as soon as he entered. Maybe he's the reason the undead got out."
This idea easily found support.
"He definitely released the undead. He's a Batarian, after all. Maybe he's hiding, or he brought us here as a sacrifice to his masters!"
Um, what? What I don't like is that people are starting to get noisy. Not that I'm defending that jerk, but still.
"If I were you, I'd be quieter; the creatures might hear us."
But the people's indignation wouldn't end so easily. A protest organized, demanding to find and lynch Vorhess, even though almost no one besides the commandos had even seen him. This continued until the door shattered into pieces with a crash, revealing... this.
If I had expected to see a Husk before, this didn't even come close. Asari Husks, Banshees, are tall, thin, their emaciated bodies supported by tubes mixed with implants and machinery. Reapers rely on implants and nanites; in their puppets, it's easy to guess who the Husk was made from.
Here, however, flesh bulges out of the armor like cream from a cone. The head dangles uselessly, and it's unclear if it's even needed (Husks need them). The torso is bloated, with whips on the arms. Only the head and the glow of biotics say for certain: this was an asari. A Banshee's gaze was malicious, sentient. This creature, which had smashed the door, and those standing behind it, hadn't bothered with such trifles; they were indifferent. Their faces expressed nothing. Around the large creatures, under the quiet and rhythmic rustle of legs, small ones began to penetrate, like those in the capsules. And with a guttural:
"Uveuuuuuuuuuurrrr!" they lunged at the sentients.
The sentients, fortunately more than half of whom had military training, even tried to defend themselves. The shooters stepped back, peppering the monsters with rifles. Those who didn't have a rifle prepared to meet the enemy in close combat.
I immediately threw a Stasis at one creature; another monster was caught in one by another commando, slightly blocking the passage. Two zombies hit the wall with Throws, crushing the small fry and leaving behind a cloud of Nanospores, after which we all began to douse the remaining creatures with bullets. The small ones were rushing from the passage in a solid carpet. They are very fragile; a single bullet makes them pop like a balloon, filling the room with a greenish mist. A few more large ones tried to bypass their colleagues, but the Stasis worked very conveniently, turning the creature into a target.
"The little ones, hit the little ones."
"Aaaarrrrkhkha, kha," groaned a Batarian spacer as a couple of small ones jumped on him. The first began to strangle him, and the Batarian's skin around the tentacles began to turn yellow, while the second, burrowing into his chest, literally tore it open, exposing the rib cage and making the victim twitch in incredible pain. A commando standing nearby knocked the attackers away with a powerful kick and strike, but there were already a couple of dozen of them running around and more were seeping in. So the Batarian, wheezing on all fours, crawled to hide, followed by several more crawling sacks with tentacles.
Driving a couple more bullets into the head of a monster broken by a Throw, I made it scatter its brains and switched to the biotic. It had just thawed and lunged at us. Bullets tear the flesh, but the undead clearly feels no pain. Its head was torn off, its left arm gone, meat was tearing off in chunks, but it lit up yellow, striking a commando who was ready to take the hit on her kinetic shield.
The whip on the creature's arm immediately shredded to pieces; the asari also flew into the wall like a broken doll, where the small fry swarmed her. A cry of pain rang out, turning into a wheeze. The shield wailed from the strike of the whips, and I turned around.
"Why won't you die!"
The creature, missing half its skull, with its body twisted to one side and missing half its rib cage, in the remnants of a Quarian suit, with a hole where its stomach should be, simply swung, attacking with whips. And again. The second strike made the armor creak, and I hit it with a Throw again, knocking it back. Then I added more bullets, retreating.
Li, the Turian, and the Quarian held close, backing toward the door behind us, which was still intact. The others... things weren't going well for them. When the Stasis ended, the door was unblocked; the creatures took the bullets and rushed in a solid carpet.
"Hello everyone! Today, in the role of the savior of beautiful ladies, it's me, Captain Vorhess!"
And another voice, clearly belonging to a Turian woman:
"Get in here, fast, don't sleep! In the open, they'll just overwhelm you with numbers!"
It's foolish to refuse rescue, even from such a jerk. Especially since they had taken positions at the life-saving door, their fire creating a corridor for us, free of the small fry.
" I'm almost glad to see you," Li hissed; a piece of a whip and a bone spike were stuck in her suit, having pierced the metal of the armor.
Vorhess glanced at her and remarked:
"Well, where would you be without me? Food! So I'm ready to perform this heroic deed for a kiss from a beautiful lady!"
Having already entered the corridor, I looked back. The previously clean and quiet room was filled with the rustle of small legs, the wheezes and groans of those being killed and torn apart, and the snarling of the infected. The Batarian, previously saved, lay with his chest torn open, rapidly bloating and becoming covered with yellow streaks of blood vessels, twitching slightly as bones began to emerge from his arms, forming a bone whip. I shuddered, suppressing nausea. And I wasn't the only one.
Li pulled my arm, and we ran further.
"You said no one survived," the asari snapped at Vorhess.
The pirate looked the same as he had a few hours ago, hardly even dirty, except without the Pyjak. Though if you looked closely, traces of the dirty-yellow guts of the undead were visible on his clothes.
"I said they'd be eaten," Vorhess corrected, "and so it turned out. The creatures aren't too smart, but they're persistent. You're lucky you didn't run into the shooters."
The Quarian said to this:
"Biotics are worse, I think."
But the Turian woman who had come with Vorhess disagreed.
"A biotic is a close-combat fighter. They shoot accurately too. Where to next, Captain?"
Only then did I realize that it was the Captain leading us along a complex route, somewhere. I must have been too deep in thought, trying to connect these creatures and Husks. Husks aren't this resilient and don't refuse to die so stubbornly. My ribs don't hurt, but there are only seven of us left, including the two of them and the Captain. Not the best situation, not at all.
"Vorhess, where did you get the map?"
He smirked.
"I'm a pirate; where would I be without a trusty treasure map? Found it on a terminal at the complex entrance. No, the robots aren't my doing. Neither are the creatures. I was in the treasury, actually."
I snorted; the others didn't really believe him.
"What proof do you have that you didn't release the creatures?" the surviving asari asked sharply.
Vorhess looked at her as if she were an idiot.
"An original way to suggest sleeping together," and at her fierce look, he added, "well, what do you suggest? I'm not suicidal. Without a ship, we won't last long here, and the defense won't let us fly away. It needs to be disabled, and I have no idea how."
We ran into another familiar room. An elevator shaft, but judging by the intact ceiling, it leads not up, but down.
"We aren't leaving?"
Vorhess sighed.
"You're grown up, yet so foolish. On the surface, robots are fighting monsters that eat meat. Do we really want to be there, huh? I'm going into the technical tunnels; there should be a reactor and a transport system. This ring is huge; we have to move around it somehow."
"We have little food," the Quarian objected, "we are tired. How much further can we run?"
But here I intervened, acknowledging the Captain's point.
"We'll rest below, as far as possible from the fight. We need to try to hack the system; maybe there really is transport."
Vorhess waved invitingly toward the elevator. It wasn't over yet, but at least we'd live a bit longer. Likely, there were no survivors left behind us. I carefully looked at Li, who was clearly feverish after her wound. Not good. There are medications, but will they help... Not good at all.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan