The gunfire in the Acheron's bay was unending as a dozen Avenger unleashed a continuous hail of bullets at the attacking husks. The aim was amateurish, most shots going wide of their target, or striking entirely by luck.<br/><br/>Over the comms a Salarian voice tried to shout over the noise.<span style="color: yellowgreen">Get Falkris to the medbay immediately!</span><br/><br/>The Turian coughed as he shouted back,<span style="color: red">No!</span>and propped himself up against the cover, leaning over and firing at the husks as they charged up the ramp or crawled around the edges of the bay entrance.<br/><br/>In the medbay, the Salarian was scrambling to gather supplies for emergency med kits to be ready to administer medical aid the moment the gunfire died down. He glanced occasionally at the vital sign monitors, gravely concerned by the state that the Turian first officer was in.<br/><br/>On the bridge, Mickey hadn't even taken the time to close the remote piloting system for the shuttle which now showed only an error message. On his console was a series of scans of the lava plane they were on, density, material composition, integrity. He looked desperately for some place, some angle he could set the ship down at closer to the dig site, away from the horde of husks. But it was no use. All scans showed indeterminate or improbable integrity that wouldn't support the ship's weight. The freighter had landed on the edge of a solid plate of rock. It was as close as they could get. It was all up to the ground team now.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Firas held the trigger down, releasing in only in brief moments as he turned the weapon to the next nearest husk baring down on them. He maintained his slow pace up the ramp, moving with the group as best he could. It was an unending wall of husks, the whole fury and mass of everything that remained in the site was coming down on them, fighting madly to surround them. It was like a living mass of flesh and machine, reaching out, trying to close its fingers around them, to swallow them, and as hard as they fought, they were losing.<br/><br/>The Turian's eye's darted only in desperation to the ammo readout on his visor HUD, the rapidly dwindling number, the only number keeping him alive. He and Maethia were the only two with high powered weapons, the only two holding the line. He had one left, one more thermal clip and the predator at his hip before he was completely out.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Running low!</span>He yelled.<br/><br/>Keeping their formation clear was becoming more and more difficult, and Ashana was struggling to maintain the pace. She was already slower than usual after they had been caught by the large husk group, and even with as many guns firing in support, they were out of room. While Firas and Maethia held the line, husks clambered up the sides of the ramp, using its scaffolding to sweep in around them, to try and drag them off the edge into the seething mass of machine below, or tried to drop down behind them, to flank them. While Sorv tried to get their exit clear, it was left to Darion, Ashana, and Milenya to keep the jaws from closing on them. But the fangs of the beast were nearly on them.<br/><br/>Ashana ignored everything but the husks, ignored the warning on her HUD that noted trace elements of Sulfur Monoxide from the opening seals in the airlock. She ignored Milenya's words, throwing a husk off the side of the ramp as it reached for her out of the darkness. She ignored until she heard the scream, saw the husk break free of the group, saw it leap at Milenya.<br/><br/>It was pure reflex, nothing but reaction and muscle memory that pushed Milenya out of the way, put herself in the husk's way. It was a husk, but her mind saw a knife, single attacker, charging, stabbing. Her feet knew the steps, first forward inside the attacker's reach. Her hand's knew the feel of the wrist as she grabbed it with her left, knew the tension of the fist, of the tendons into the nerve cluster, the feeling of the biotic impulse as she balled her right. Second step, with strike, a single motion, fist with body, attack center mass.<br/><br/>She only just registered the motions in her mind as she hit the husk, the biotic burst hammering into its rib cage, propelling the husk back with the added force. She could only give Milenya a half nod before a husk had managed to get up the side of the ramp she had abandoned for the few moments to stop the other from driving its arm through Milenya's torso.<br/><br/>Ashana turned at hit it with her palm, ducking her head under a sweeping grab, catapulting it off the ramp, back down into the site. As they continued to retreat up the ramp, the ambient light around them grew as they neared the airlock.<br/><br/>Sorv sprinted back toward the empty crawler, and had just opened the door to climb in when Milenya suggested taking the loaded crawler. The Quarian paused, one foot on the step up into the cab, and looked at the crawler beside, loaded with equipment, all still locked down and ready to move. There wouldn't be nearly as much room for the others in the back, but there were enough nooks and handles on the cargo containers that they could hang on easily enough. The gunfire outside the airlock was growing louder, and Sorv hopped down off the empty crawler, running around the back of the loaded one, them climbing in it instead and starting the engine.<br/><br/>The moment Ashana was inside the first airlock door she turned and hurried inside, seeing the airlocks on the far end open, their way out clear. A loud blare from a crawler horn drew her attention to the crawler in front of her, the driver's seat as empty as the bed. She blinked momentarily confused until she looked right, and saw Sorv sitting in the loaded crawler, waving.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">Last call for the Quarian express!</span>He yelled.<br/><br/>Firas retreated from the threshold of the airlock, the inferno grenade Darion had thrown to cover them buying them precious moments. He turned to run to the crawler, but stopped as Darion called for them to cover him as he planted explosives.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">What?!</span>He yelled, but any protest or thought was immediately stopped as the husks began pouring through the the airlock, having taken to the walls to avoid the firestorm on the ramp. Firas opened up, his Revenant once again cutting into the husks's ranks as Darion worked. He watched the ammo counter on his HUD ticking down, then hit 0. It was empty and he was out of thermal clips. He did the only thing he could do and shouldered the rifle,<br/>drawing his Predator in its stead, firing the pistol which felt like he was throwing rocks at the husks by comparison. The task of defending the passage fell largely on Maethia.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">To hell with ten minutes!</span>Firas yelled, firing at the growing swell of husks clawing their ways across the airlock's threshold, onto its walls and ceiling.<span style="color: blue">You blow it the moment we're clear!</span>He fired the last of the predator's ammo and yelled angrily, hurling the pistol at the husks in frustration.<br/><br/>The moment Darion was finished, Firas yelled<span style="color: blue">Maethia, go!</span>and turned, running along side for the crawler while the husks poured in, hot on their heels. Firas jumped, catching his foot on the lip of the bed, and grabbed onto the cargo stack, tightly holding to two crate's handles.<span style="color: blue">Sorv, we're on! Go, go, go!</span><br/><br/>Sorv threw the crawler into reverse and shoved the accelerator to the floor of the cab just as the husks began gushing from the airlock in a torrent, leaping after the crawler as it put distance between them.<span style="color: DarkOrange">These things don't care about door!</span>Responded to Darion, keeping his eye on the tiny side view mirror to make sure he was on target for the outer airlock.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Sorv, faster, faster!</span>Ashana yelled, watching the husks hit the smooth floor of the airlock and begin sprinting after them at alarming speed, closing the gap.<br/><br/>The Quarian looked up for just a brief moment, saw the husks coming, and yelled,<span style="color: DarkOrange">Hang on!</span>then jerked the steering wheel sideways, throwing the crawler into a side long slide as it came out of the outer airlock into the open air of the planet. The slide was almost too much, the vehicle's wheels skidding as it came to the edge of the cliff face ramp that led out of the fissure. Ashana clung to the side of the cargo as she found herself suddenly hanging out over the edge, a hundred foot fall below her where a river of molten rock flowed. As the crawler came to a stop, it jerked, and Ashana's foot slipped, and she was suddenly dangling over the edge, kicking against the side of the crawler for a footing while trying desperately not to scream. She found a foothold just as Sorv hit the throttle, pulling it away from the edge and starting the cargo and crew laden crawler up the embankment.<br/><br/>Behind them, husks ran out the door after them, occasionally being felled by any shots being taken at them. Sorv pushed the crawler as fast as it would go up out of the fissure. He was about ready to breathe easier as the husks behind them were losing ground, but then husks began appearing ahead of them, in their path. Sorv muttered in surprise, then realized that the large vent that they had passed on their descent was now serving as a shortcut for the husks.<br/><br/>Firas saw the vent, and the husks emerging from it and yelled to Darion,<span style="color: blue">Blow it!</span><br/><br/>But they were moments too late, even as the crawler rammed into the husks already on the road, knocking them to the ground and crushing them beneath its weight. The husks on the fissure wall leaped at the crawler to board it. Firas cursed, unarmed, as one of the husks dove directly for him, when suddenly the husk was repulsed back along with all the others leaping down, the crawler enveloped suddenly in the blue undulating aura of a biotic barrier. Ashana blinked in surprise, she had never used a projected barrier before. And as there was only one other Asari that she knew could use her biotics, the source was not difficult to discern. Milenya.<br/><br/>A moment later there was a rumbling as the explosive charges Darion had planted went off, the planet's atmosphere mixing with the oxygen being pumped out by the atmosphere processors to add fuel to the blast. There was a glow from the large vent in the fissure wall, then the aural dampeners in their helmets activated, shielding the team's ears from the concussion as the jet of fire erupted from the vent, blowing the fan and the crossbar supporting completely off, sending it screaming into the fissures opposite wall, then tumbling down into the molten abyss. What husks remained in the vent were incinerated and blown apart.<br/><br/>Firas watched and waited as the crawler put ground between them and the vent, but no more husks followed. Ashana set her face mask on the cargo crate in front of her and breathed a long sigh.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Acheron, this is the ground team - we've encountered heavy resistance but we're clear, in bou -</span><br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Well haul ass back here! We're are under attack and need to take off now!</span>Mickey cut in. Firas looked at the person clinging to the crates beside him.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Affirmative Acheron, we are in bound at full speed.</span>Firas answered, the moments respite already lost.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">This is going to be rough, so hold on.</span>Sorv said as he pushed down the accelerator again, the mercilessly rough terrain making the crawler bounce and jerk. In the distance the two monolithic ships were growing in size.<br/><br/>Firas switched over the Acheron's crew channel and listened to the chaos. Cantenelli was calling orders like he was directing fire teams over the shouts of the crew. He heard a Turian voice as well... Falkris? It was rough enough to be the first officer, but he was sputtering, coughing.<br/><br/>As they closed the distance to the ship, the single glowing light that they had thought to be the open bay separated into two, the second light flickering like a flame. A mile later they could discern the wreck of the shuttle, just off the approach to the ship.<br/><br/>As they got closer and closer, now able to make out the husks crossing the obsidian field to the ship, Sorv yelled into the comms to the Acheron,<span style="color: DarkOrange">Get clear! We're coming in hot!</span><br/><br/>The crawler bounced as they passed the crashed shuttle, the fuel still burning brightly. The crawler plowed down several husks as it entered the Acheron's shadow at full speed, headed straight for the bay, a dozen husks clamoring to gain ground of the defensive line. Sorv yelled,<span style="color: DarkOrange">Incoming!</span>as the crawler hit the ramp, jerked sharply as it changed direction, then half launched into the cargo bay, the crew scattering from its path as it barreled into the line of crates they had been using for cover, flinging them across the bay. Sorv hammered the brakes, the vehicle skidding sideways through the bay, before finally coming to a stop.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Mickey, they're clear! Go!</span>Cantenelli yelled the moment the crawler was inside.<br/><br/>Only seconds later, they were moving, the ship lifting off the surface, husks without a solid grip falling back to the volcanic surface below. The bay door was closing immediately after as they gained altitude.<span style="color: blue">Clear the stragglers!</span>Cantenelli yelled at the crew as they were moving, struggling to keep their balance in the shifting momentum and tug of war with the ship's artificial gravity as it took over.<br/><br/>The crews quickly redirected their fire at the last remaining husks in the bay, gunning hem down until they were on the ground twitching, and for good measure unloading even more rounds into them when they had mostly stopped.<br/><br/>The bay door sealed, the alarms going silent as the last of the gunfire quieted. Ashana dropped off the crawler, dropping into the Acheron's bay, and collapsing onto the ground, the exhaustion finally winning out. She slumped down against one of the vehicles wheels, spattered with blue husk blood. Her arms hung limply at her side as she just took a minute to breathe.<br/><br/>The elevator opened and Beruut ran in, carrying several emergency medkits. He spotted Milenya and tossed her one.<span style="color: yellowgreen">The wounded, quickly!</span>He said, then spotted Falkris and hurried to the Turian who was slumped against the crate he had been using as cover.<br/><br/><span style="color: yellowgreen">Oh dear...</span>The Salarian said, surveying the damage to the Turian. Shira'Va having dropped her shotgun on the ground and fallen to her knees in equal parts relief and exhaustion, put a great deal of effort into standing back up to walk over and kneel beside the Turian. In the freighter she hadn't had time to thoroughly survey the damage he ahd taken, but here in the bright lights of the hold it was clear.<br/><br/>The fleet command armor had been buckled inward in several places from blunt force strikes, one depression on the right side of the Turian chest was likely responsible for his coughing. His left arm, which had been twisted before was now clearly broken, possibly even shattered where. A slow trickle of blood was running down from his left knee, and his ankle was clearly broken. His visor was cracked, and his helmet showed numerous lines of stress fatigue to the material, and what looked like claw marks gouged into the paint.<br/><br/>The Salarian doctor carefully reached out and pulled off his helmet. The Turian had blood running down his nose and chin, where he had been coughing it up. He blinked hazily, looking at the doctor.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Had worse.</span>He muttered as best he could.<br/><br/><span style="color: indigo">"You stupid Bosh'Tet... What were you thinking?"</span>Shira scorned.<span style="color: indigo">"You could have grabbed Kala and run."</span><br/><br/>The Turian flashed a weak glare at her.<span style="color: red">Needed cover... Dead otherwise.</span>He suppressed a wince as the doctor pressed an injector against his neck and dosed him.<br/><br/><span style="color: yellowgreen">We need to get him to the med bay immediately. His lung is punctured.</span>He said, giving Shira a serious look.<br/><br/><br/>She nodded and pointed to a pair of the least tired looking crewmen.<span style="color: indigo">"You, you, take the first officer to the med bay!"</span>They quickly did as ordered, setting their rifles down and lifting the Turian with the doctor's instructions to be very careful as he followed them to the elevator, scanning the patient. Several of the other crew had sustained minor injuries as well, though not bad enough to need immediate attention.<br/><br/>Ashana, with great effort had managed to take off her helmet and drop it on the floor of the bay, letting it roll away from her. Firas had jumped down off the crawler and approached the rest of the crew, both of the men removing their helmets. Cantenelli regarded the Turian and the rest of the ground team for a moment before surveying the carnage of the husk remains at the mouth of the bay. The body parts were still twitching.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Mickey, scan the entire god damn ship for any more of these things. I want every scrap and spec of these... <i>freaks</i> incinerated and blown out into fucking space.</span>He ordered, as angry as he was confused and frightened.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>The two crewmen carrying Falkris could be seen coming out of the med-bay window, lead by Beruut who walked backwards, keeping his eyes on the patient. The doors to the bay opened and the two men brought the Turian inside, setting him down on a medical bed with no small amount of effort given the Turian's size. Falkris' mandibles flexed and he gave guttural growl as he tried to suppress a cough that carried a spatter of blood with it. Beruut went about dismantling the Turian's torso armor while the first officer stared at the ceiling. He never made a sound as Beruut carefully pulled the impacted breastplate free, but in the Turian's eyes was a burning agony that he fought wildly to control with anger, never moving his eyes from the point on the ceiling.<br/><br/>The weave under the armor was intact, requiring the doctor to then strip it away at its seams, pulling it off the Turian with a wet slurp where it was congealed with his blood. Then he lifted a scalpel and cut away the once clean uniform beneath, pulling it away. He paused briefly as the chest wound was uncovered. He examined it without concern, only cool calculation. The entire left side of the Turian's chest was collapsed nearly an inch, the semi rigid carapace had a split running across it that oozed blue blood, the skin around it had turned a sick bluish purple.<span style="color: yellowgreen">Minor laceration, no bone ruptures. Damage mostly internal.</span><br/><br/>The doctor set about treating the wound, making an effort to stabilize the Turian and stop the blood flow, foregoing treatment of his other many wounds until the primary damage was dealt with. All the while Falkris stared at the ceiling, never making a sound. He buried the agonizing pain, its only outward sign in the look in his eyes. Beyond the recent wounds made visible by the removed armor, though, many other far older scars were visible. Some minor, others more substantial.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>