Drew Karpyshyn - Ascension

"Probably, but they won't be expecting any trouble. Your squad should be able to take them down without too much difficulty."

Grayson felt his stomach clenching as they drifted into the docking bay. For the first time in several days he felt the sudden craving to dust up, but he pushed it aside by focusing on the mission.

The three men in the cockpit were silent until they heard the docking clamps secure the ship in place.

"Lock onto your target," Grayson instructed, and the pilot nodded. "But hold fire until my order."

Cerberus had made some additions to the Cyniad, including the addition of a small but powerful short-range laser. One well-placed shot could knock out the Idenna ys tight-beam transmitter, killing the ship's external communications and preventing them from alerting the rest of the Fleet.

The timing had to be perfect, though. The Idenna would still have internal communications, and as soon as the transmitter was knocked out the bridge would alert everyone on board. Grayson wanted to wait until the security team coming to meet them had been dealt with before that happened.

"Alpha team," Grayson said into his combat helmet's transmitter, "you're going to have company when the airlock opens. Report in as soon as you take them out."

A few seconds later they heard several sharp bursts of gunfire coming from just outside the ship.

"Enemy is down," the Alpha team leader replied. "No casualties on our end."

"Take out the transmitter," Grayson said, and the pilot fired the laser, shearing off the dish in a quick, clean cut. The shipboard alarms kicked in almost immediately.

"Now the fun begins," Golo said, and behind his mask Grayson knew he was grinning.

"What's happening?" Kahlee demanded, shouting over the distant alarms.

The captain listened intently to an incoming message, then relayed the news to the rest of them. "The Cyniady one of our scout ships, just docked with us. They knocked out our tight-beam transmitter."

"I was searching for the crew of the Cyniad when I found you in that warehouse," Lemm told them, speaking quickly. "I thought your captors had some connection to the scout ship."

"Cerberus," Hendel said. "They're coming for Gillian."

"What about the security team you sent to meet them?" Kahlee asked, remembering the captain's earlier instructions. "Isli and the others?"

"No response," Mai said, his voice grim. They all knew what that likely meant.

"If it's Cerberus, they'll be coming straight for this shuttle," Hendel warned them. "They'll want to grab Gillian and get out quick, before you can organize any resistance."

"Do you have any weapons on board?" Lemm asked.

Kahlee shook her head. "The rifle we took from the warehouse is nearly out of ammo. Hendel's biotic, but that's all we've got."

"Call for a security detail," the big man said.

"They won't get here in time," Mai replied. "The Cyniad's only two bays over."

We can't even seal the shuttle and make a run for it, Kahlee realized. We'd never disconnect the docking clamps in time.

"Come on," she said, jumping to her feet. "We can't hold them off in here."

The five of them — two quarians and three humans— raced from the shuttle through the airlock out into the landing bay of the Idenna. Hendel had to half-drag and half-carry Gillian to keep up; the alarms were disorienting her, and she was moving with slow, distracted steps.

"Trading deck!" Mai shouted. "We have weapons in the storeroom."

As they ran through the crowded halls and corridors of the ship, Kahlee couldn't help imagining what would happen when the Cerberus troops arrived to find Grayson's shuttle empty. The quarians had no reason to ever expect an attack inside the confines of their Fleet vessels, and ready access to firearms in such crowded living conditions was normally a recipe for disaster. As a result, no one except a handful of security details carried weapons. If armed Cerberus agents started searching for Gillian through the populated decks, it would turn into a massacre.

Mai was shouting instructions into his radio, trying to organize reinforcements to drive back the enemy.

"We need to make a stand!" Kahlee shouted. "Hold them on the trading deck. If we don't, hundreds will die."

He nodded, and relayed the instructions to the bridge.

How did they find us here? Kahlee wondered as she ran, followed quickly by, Is there nowhere in the galaxy Gillian can escape them?

The Cerberus team arrived at Grayson's old shuttle to find it abandoned.

"They must have gone into the ship to hide," Golo guessed.

"How many quarians on board?" Grayson demanded.

"Between six and seven hundred," Golo estimated. "But only a couple dozen will be armed. You stay here with a small team to secure the shuttle, and I'll take the rest with me. We'll find Gillian and bring her back here."

Grayson shook his head. "She's my daughter. I'm coming with you."

"Forget it," Golo replied. "We don't need you in there."

"I'm in charge of this mission," Grayson reminded him.

"And I'm the only one who knows his way around a quarian ship," Golo countered. "You can't do this without me, and I'm not going in there with you as part of my team.

"You're too emotionally involved," he continued, almost apologetic. "You're not thinking straight, and you're not ready for this."

Grayson didn't argue the point. He'd barely slept since escaping Pel's warehouse; he was just a duster running on adrenaline and desperation. Exhaustion and withdrawal would slow his reaction time and impair his judgment, putting the entire team in jeopardy.

"If you really want your daughter back," the quar-ian added in a sensitive whisper, "the best thing you can do is wait here and get the shuttle ready for our escape."

Golo was playing him; pushing his emotional buttons. The quarian didn't care what happened to Gillian. He was just a lying, manipulative, son-of-a-bitch who was only looking out for his own self-interest. But that didn't mean he was wrong.

They're better off without you. For the sake of the mission — for Gillian's sake — you have to sit this one out.

"You, you, and you," Grayson said, pointing to the pilot and two others. "Stay here with me. The rest of you go with Golo. Remember, we only have thirty minutes to get off this vessel."

"If the humans went into the ship they're probably wearing enviro-suits," Golo noted almost casually.

Grayson swore silently at the extra complication. "The Illusive Man wants Gillian alive and unharmed," he reminded the eight soldiers going with Golo, stressing the point to make sure they understood. "Don't shoot at anything smaller than a full-grown quarian."

"Not unless you're close enough to count the fingers," Golo added with a laugh.

"The bridge is sealing off sections of the ship," Mai told them as he passed out the guns stored in the stockroom with the food, medicine, and other carefully tracked supplies. "It won't stop them, but it might slow them down. The civilians are being evacuated to the upper decks, and I've ordered all security teams to meet us down here."

Kahlee took the assault rifle he handed her, hefting it to test the weight. It was a cheap volus knock-off of a turian design — a substandard weapon, but it was better than nothing.

Glancing around the room, she considered their chances. There was only one entrance onto the trading deck from the loading bays: Cerberus would have to come straight down a long, narrow hall right to them. But if they got past that first door, they would find plenty of cover among the oversized crates and bins used to store merchandise that were scattered all about the room. A well-organized strike team would have no problem spreading out and trying to flank Mai's people. And if they had to fall back there was only one place to go — up to the heavily populated living quarters of the deck above.