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Mass Effect/AEC: Chapter 8 (c.3)-Gehenna


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Tweet of the Day: American Horror Story

Gehenna Desert,  Libertas, Sphinx System, Argos Rho Cluster, Attican Traverse September 10, 2197

Miranda, Nyte and myself laid on our bellies atop an outcrop that overlooked the vast chalky expanse of the Gehenna Desert. It took seventy millions years to turn the caldera of a volcano the size of the western Mediterranean into a vast salty dead zone with temperatures at around sixty degrees Celsius. Luckily our hardsuits kept the heat and the salt at bay.

“So…married,” said Nyte over the comm.

“Yes, married,” deadpanned Miranda.

“I never expected The Viper to settle down,” said Nyte

“The Viper?” I asked

“That was her nickname when we worked for Cerberus.”

“Let me guess. It was because of her sharp and venomous tongue,” I said.

“Yes and yes, commander.”

Miranda jumped in, “Excuse me?”

“Well she has mellowed out a bit. She will only snap your head off you really earned it,” I said.

“I’ll have you know that-”

The Black Widow scope cut through the heat haze that shrouded the flat desert valley. “Inbound convoy from the north east at five clicks and closing.”

Nyte voice turned cold, “That must be our targets.”

The convoy kicked up clouds of white chalky salt.

“Fifteen vehicle convoy. Total of five technicals, one in the lead, second in the middle, third in the rear, with the last two riding the flanks. No air cover or additional vehicles.”

“As expected. Team One, stand by,” said Nyte.

I swung the scope over to a cluster of prefabs two kilometers away. Figures moved into position for the ambush.

“So what is the cargo?” I asked.

“Political prisoners enslaved via implanted control chips to be sold off world,” said Nyte matter-of-factly.

“Ten two-tons trucks as people carriers that makes for about one-hundred and eighty total,” I said.

“And that is just the first load, they will keep them on location until they have enough to ship off-world,” said Nyte.

“How many?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Two to three more shipments,” Nyte said. The convoy pulled up to the cluster of of prefabs. “Team One, engage.” Missiles streaked down on to the lead, rear and flanking technicals. The explosions tore them apart. The drivers of the other vehicles panicked and tried to flee, some of foot others by ramming the burning wreckage. A hail of gunfire cut them down. “I want a casualty report,” ordered Nyte over the comm.

“All guards eliminated, a few wounded among the prisoners, no deaths. Applying medigel now,” came the response from Team One.

A sonic boom cracked above our heads. The Kowloon class freighter came in at a steep angle, circled low over the area and landed near the buildings. The loading ramp lowered and Team One drove the surviving trucks into the freighter. The freighter took off the moment the last truck cleared the ramp.

Nyte got up, “Time to go. There is someone I want you to meet, Commander.” She led the way back to the aircar.

Miranda and I looked at each other, shrugged, and followed her lead.

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