We’ve Got Your Back

Posted: March 4, 2015 by writingsprint in Science fiction, We've Got Your Back
Tags: , , ,

Part 9 of “We’ve Got Your Back,” a Mass Effect fan fiction. This story has spoilers for the end of Mass Effect 3.
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“Admiral! We have a power buildup on the Crucible. According to Dr. Bryson’s calculations, if the buildup continues, it’ll reach firing threshold in five minutes.”

“HOT DAMN! All fleets! The Crucible is armed! Disengage and head to the rendezvous point. I repeat, disengage and get the hell out of here!”

* * *

Miranda’s heart leaped as she saw the power spike from the Crucible. Then her jaw fell open as Hackett’s order to withdraw came through. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when an ear-bleeding whistle pierced the com channel. A hologram of Shepard, flickering red, appeared on the bridge–and on the bridge of every ship in the fleet. Battered and bloody, barely standing, his arms trembled. He looked like death. His eyes stared in desperation. Miranda gasped.

“If anyone can hear my voice… the Crucible effect will destroy the geth… all… all synthetic life. Go…” Shepard’s knees buckled. The transmission flickered.

“John!” Miranda cried.

The transmission cut out.

Miranda jumped on the command frequency. “This is the Normandy. We’re going after Shepard.” She turned back to the CIC. “EDI, can you use that transmission to tell us where he is?”

“Shepard is located at the center of the ‘focus’ referenced by Dr. T’Soni.”

“Joker, get us down there. Garrus, I need you to punch a hole in the Citadel close to Shepard but not so close we kill him.”

“I thought you were going to give me something challenging, Miranda,” Garrus replied.

The Normandy took a barrel roll around a hellish crossfire. Miranda noticed geth ships in the fray. Joker leveled out. Miranda zoomed in on a schematic of the target area. If Garrus blew the shot, John was dead. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“I have always wanted to take a shot at the Citadel,” Garrus snickered.

Garrus barely touched the triggers. Twin cannons that had gutted the Collector cruiser fired a whisper, gold streaks of superheated metal that blew the surface hull off two compartments, and very little else.

Miranda was stunned. Later, she couldn’t believe she actually said, “Holy shit! What a shot!”

“And that, my friend, is why we do calibrations.”

* * *

Admiral Hackett sighed as he heard Lawson say she was going after Shepard. If he didn’t have an armada to save, he would have done the same thing. He was about to tell the Iowa’s pilot to jump away when hails came pouring into the command channel.

Normandy, this is Captain Fob, SSV Nuremberg. If you’re going after Shepard, we’ve got your back.”

“This is Matriarch Lidanya, Destiny Ascension. We owe Shepard.”

“This is Captain Holland, SSV Sarajevo. Count us in.”

“Commander Phillips, SSV Saratoga Fighter Wing. You think you’re going to have all the fun?”

“Admiral Meridus, Indomitable. We are with you.”

Ship after ship, fleet after fleet, the responses came in. Finally, the one that Hackett would remember on his dying day: “The geth fleet has achieved consensus. We will not leave until Commander Shepard is safe.”

“Dear God,” Hackett whispered.

The com officer said, “Sir, no one’s leaving.”

Hackett wiped a tear away from his eye. “Neither are we. All fleets. Stand your ground. Protect the Normandy and Commander Shepard. Let’s show these bastards what we’re made of.”

The bridge of the Iowa cheered.

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