Drew Karpyshyn - Retribution

He didn’t necessarily agree with the turian, but he knew that nothing was more disruptive to a fighting unit than individuals questioning orders.

“Can you at least spare some weapons just in case?” he asked.

The turian handed Anderson his assault rifle and pistol, then disappeared out the door. Anderson handed the pistol to Kahlee, hit the wall panel, and punched in the code to seal them inside.

He took a second to familiarize himself with the weapon: standard turian military issue. It was a good weapon, efficient and reliable … though if it got to the point where he had to use it, he suspected it would mean the battle had already been lost.

“Now what?” Kahlee asked him.

“Wait and hope that the next time someone comes through that door, they’re on our side.”

Except for the whooping of the alarms, everything was silent for the next few minutes. Then the sound of gunfire erupted from the hall, deafening even through the closed door. It continued without pause for several minutes, punctuated by the faint shouts of soldiers barking out orders and the periodic explosion of a grenade.

When it finally ended, it didn’t taper off. Rather, it came to an abrupt and sudden halt. A few seconds later the alarms stopped, too — either shut off at the control room or disabled by someone hacking into the system remotely.

“Take cover,” Anderson whispered.

He crouched behind one corner of the massive computer console in the middle of the room, resting his assault rifle on the edge and training it on the door. Kahlee took up a similar position with her pistol on the other side of the console.

They heard heavy footsteps in the hall beyond, then the unmistakable sound of someone hacking the door’s access panel from the other side. When it slid open to reveal a krogan in heavy armor, both

Anderson and Kahlee opened fire.

Instead of falling back, the beast charged their position. He managed to take three loping strides toward them before their combined fire penetrated his kinetic barriers. His momentum carried him two more steps forward, then they finally brought him down less than a meter away from the console.

Anderson vented the heat clip to keep his weapon from overheating, waiting for the next attack. A pair of batarians, one on either side of the door frame, peeked around the corner and lay down suppressing fire, keeping the two humans pinned behind their cover long enough for an asari to step into the room and unleash a biotic wave.

The console rocked backward from the impact, and Anderson and Kahlee were spent sprawling toward the rear of the lab. Anderson managed to scramble back to one knee to take aim again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kahlee roll over onto her stomach and wrap both hands around the butt of the pistol so she could fire from a prone position.

Neither of them managed to get off a single shot before they were enveloped in a biotic stasis field launched by a second asari waiting in the wings. The powerful opposing gravitational and magnetic forces inside the stasis field held them completely immobilized for several seconds, allowing plenty of time for the batarians to rush in and disarm them.

One charged up to Anderson and slammed him in the face with the butt of his shotgun just as the stasis field dissipated, sending the admiral toppling backward to the floor, barely conscious. Beside him he heard Kahlee scream as the other batarian brought his foot slamming down on the pistol clasped in her hands, crushing her fingers beneath his heavy combat boot.

Anderson, his head spinning from the blow, tried to get up to fight. But before he could, the batarian landed on top of him, his knee driving into Anderson’s chest and pinning him in place. Turning his head, Anderson saw Kahlee in a fetal position, writhing in pain, her mangled fingers clutched tight against her abdomen.

To his surprise, the attackers didn’t kill them. Instead, they hauled them to their feet, forced their hands behind their backs, and slapped cuffs on their wrists.

“Sanak’s waiting by the ship,” one of the asari said.

Anderson could feel blood pouring down his face; the rifle butt had broken his nose and split his top lip. But he was more worried about Kahlee — her skin was pale and her eyes were glazed. The trauma of having all ten fingers simultaneously broken in multiple places had combined with her physical and mental exhaustion to send her into shock. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could to do help her.

Their captors dragged them out into the hall. Bodies were strewn along the entire length of the corridor; most were turians, but there were several batarians, a few krogan, and even the odd asari among the dead.

They were hustled through the station until they reached a large breach in the hull. A wide, fully enclosed gangway extended out from the breach, no doubt leading to the assault vessel the attackers had used to board the station.

Several enemy troops of various species were milling about the area, all following the shouted orders of a batarian who seemed to be in charge.

He was standing with his back to them, but turned as they approached. Seeing the prisoners, he blinked all four eyes in surprise.

“What are you doing with him?” he said, pointing his weapon in Anderson’s direction.

“You said take the humans alive,” one of the asari replied.

“I meant her, not him!” the batarian exclaimed.

“Are you sure that’s what Aria wanted?” the asari asked, looking for clarification.

At least Anderson knew now who they were working for, though he had no idea why the legendary

Pirate Queen of Omega had launched an attack on the station.

“Fine. Put them both on the ship.”

Anderson decided to take a chance and speak up.

“She’s going into shock,” he said, nodding in Kahlee’s direction.

His voice sounded strange to his own ears, distorted by the damage to his face.

“If Aria wants us alive, you better see to her injuries.”

“Get them on board and give them each a shot of medi-gel,” the batarian ordered. “Then load up those data banks from the lab and set the explosives. I want to be out of here before reinforcements arrive.”

The batarians dragged them up the gangway and into the hold of what appeared to be some type of frigate. They were forced roughly down into two of the seats lining the wall. Anderson winced as his weight fell on the hands cuffed behind his back, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his shoulders.

Kahlee cried out in agony, and he could only imagine what it felt like to have her broken fingers pinned between the seat and the weight of her body.

“You better get those cuffs off her,” he said.

“You should worry about yourself,” one of the asari suggested as she jabbed a long needle into his shoulder.

A few seconds later, everything went dark.

When Anderson came to, he was surprised to find himself lying on a large, comfortable couch in what appeared to be a well-furnished living room.

Shaking off the lingering effects of the medi-gel, he rolled over to put his feet on the floor and stood up. He realized he was naked, and then he noticed his undershirt and boxers folded and sitting on a chair nearby. They had obviously been laundered; there were no traces of the bloodstains from his broken nose. Next to his underclothes were pants, a shirt, socks, and even a pair of shoes.

Puzzled, he slowly got dressed as he took a quick survey of his surroundings. There was an archaic set of hinged double doors at one end of the room, open just a crack. Through it he could see a large, luxurious bed. At the other end of the room was a more contemporary sliding door, closed and — judging by the red light on the wall panel — locked.