Buried Secrets: Bygones - Chapter 14

Forgetting about Visal for now, Mylos ran back to Aertus, whom was about to be led away on a gurney.  “Lieutenant!” he cried.

“I know, Mylos,” Aertus coughed.  “Unfortunately, I cannot fight in my condition:  that run we did took its toll on me.”  With a bit of effort he reached into a pocket and pulled out a keycard.  “Here, this is access key to the armory, where the real stuff is.  The other staff and more experienced students are likely heading there now…and I have a feeling we will need all the help we can get.  Save as many as you can.”

Mylos nodded grimly as he accepted the card, realizing that a lot of lives now rested on his shoulders:  it was a stifling feeling.  Why me? he thought.  Doesn’t he have a second in command for this?  It took him only a moment to realize that like the Headmaster, there was no assistant Chief of Security here.  And I thought we always had clear lines of secession!  Well, it seems Aertus’ technically passed ‘leadership’ to him…so now it was time to own up to it.

“Faesus,” he said, tossing Aertus’ weapon to him.  “You’re with me:  we need to get that armory opened up so we can even the odds here.”  Mylos then turned and looked at the other students whom had ridden with them on the shuttle.  “Go back into the shuttle and lock it up tight.  It’s probably the safest place for you right now until we get an effective counter-attack going.”

“Mylos, do you think it’s the same guys as before?” Faesus asked as they started running for the armory.

“The exact same guys?  No.  Part of the same gangs?  Yes.”

“Why are they attacking us?  What have we done to them?”

“Ocri’s gang I don’t know: could be retaliation for foiling his plans before, if he is even still in charge.  As for the Tyranors, that’s easy:  this is a technically a Hierarchy controlled building and they are anti-Hierarchy.  It’s likely they want to wipe out possible future Hierarchy leadership and support.”

They stopped at a T-section, Mylos tapping his foot to activate his one ability to see if there was any movement close by.  There were two individuals close by: however, since he had no way of knowing who was friend of foe, he had to peek around the corner to verify afterward.  He was relieved to see two of the security team, though they only had their side arms and they were heading for the armory like they were.  He beckoned for Faesus to follow as he ran for them.  “Friendlies heading your way!” he announced.

Both security members whipped around and briefly started to aim their weapons toward them, but halted when they saw the uniforms.  “What are you two students doing here?  Get to the bunker!”  one of them chided.

“Unless you want the armory door unlocked, you best let us come with you,” Mylos countered, showing them the key.

“Mylos?  How the hell did you get the Lieutenant’s key?  Spirits, you are not even supposed to be at the campus right now!”

“We were attacked at the training field by both the Tyranors and Ocri’s gang,” Mylos said as he continued at a quick pace toward the armor, the two security members following.  “The Lieutenant was badly injured during that attack so he gave the key to me when the attack here started.”

“The Tyranors?”  the other security guard said.  “I thought they were all but wiped out:  if they are back in force we could be in trouble.”

“I know.  Do you know if the military was informed so they can reinforce us?  These guys have some heavy weaponry on hand.”

“I’m not sure.  I heard them making the call, but then our signal was suddenly cut off,” the first said.  “We fear they have already taken over comm control, but we don’t have the weaponry to try to take it back.”

“Well, we will have to change that.”

Fortunately the rest of the way to the armory was clear and there was few other turians gathered around next to it trying to get the door open, mostly senior students.   On the ground close by were a couple of turian bodies: looked like members of Ocri’s gang that tried to secure the armor for themselves.  Mylos pushed his way through and used the key card on the door.  When it opened it was a mad rush to get armed up.  Unfortunately it was clear that not everyone was going to be able to get a full set of armor.

“Alright,” one of the security team said as people armed up the best they could considering the limited supply.  “First order of business is to check on the comm control building: if they had taken it, we take it back.”

“There are also a lot of students out there that are unarmed and defenseless,” Mylos reminded him as put on a real piece of chest armor.   “Not to mention the heavy weapons in use against us.”

“I am aware of that,” the man countered.  “But without comms, we cannot coordinate our own forces.  We cannot help the others until we can organize properly.  Not to mention we will need that military back up for this, especially if you are right about the Tyranors being involved.”

“But can we really afford to ignore those that are defenseless?” Mylos growled.  “While we are busy trying to secure the comm center, they will be using the unarmed students as target practice and when they run out of helpless targets they will all focus on us next!  Besides, the Lieutenant specially told me to save as many as I can.”

The security guard looked at Faesus, whom nodded in confirmation.  “I don’t know why he put so much faith in you, Mylos, but if you really want to stick your neck out there without proper coordination, I won’t stop you,” he said with a faint snarl.

“He won’t be alone,” Faesus said.  “I have friends that may be getting killed out there.”  A few of other students chimed in their support as well.

“Alright then, I wish you guys luck.  Here” the security guard said, tossing Mylos a headset.  “For when we get comms back.”

“Good luck for your goal as well,” Mylos said he beckoned for his new squad follow.  “Alright, are primarily goal is to protect those that are defenseless, as well as rounding up any others that are fighting.  We will also need to check to see if the bunker is still intact and direct any non-combatants and wounded to it.  How many biotics are with me besides myself and Faesus?”  A couple of hands went up.  “OK, focus on defense, especially on those with limited or no armor.  However, if you have a clear shot at taking out an enemy with a heavy weapon, take it:  that goes for all of us, in fact.  The more heavy weapons taken out, the better chance we have.”

“What if the bunker is compromised?” one of the students asked.

Mylos clapped his mandibles against his lower jaw in mild distress at the possibility.  “Then we’ll have to direct survivors to either to medical, or the comm center…hopefully one or both will be secured by then.”

“And if not?”

“I’ll think of something….”

--

Meanwhile…

He loved this arm.  Made of the strongest available materials, adored with sharp four inch long claws on each finger and equipped with a small retractable shield on the forearm, this thing was made for close quarters combat.  As Jorox weaved through the compound, he slashed apart and crushed any Hierarchy loving turian he came across that was stupid enough to get too close.  Only sad part was that he couldn’t actually feel the effects through this arm.  Oh well, the sound was good enough.

~Boss, I have updates for you,~ one of his minions said over their comm line.  ~Besyr and his team have arrived and are reinforcing holding positions we have established.~

“About time he showed up, the slacker,” Jorox said.  “Anything else?”

There was a slight hesitation and Jorox frowned, suspecting what it meant. ~First, the small team we sent to secure their armory has apparently failed, as now there is a well armed group heading for their comm center, no doubt to try to retake it from us.~

“You sent Ocri’s men for that task didn’t you?” Jorox growled.

Another pause.  ~Yes, sir….~

“Idiot!  Don’t use that fool’s men for something so important!  Pull teams from other areas to reinforce the comm center:  they cannot be allowed to call in the military!  And if it looks like you will lose it, blow it up!”

~Yes, sir…there is one more thing.~

“And what is that?”

~There’s a second group that has started going through the compound, picking up targets we haven’t eliminated.  I haven’t confirmed this yet, but I think your target of interest is among them.~

Mylos, he thought with a smile.  “Where is he now?”

~Last seen heading south east, toward their main bunker.~

“Has their bunker been secured?”

~Not as of yet, sir, what armed personal they had when we first started has been fighting hard to keep it: same with their medical center, in fact.~

“I see…what is the status of our heavy hitters?”

~All are still up, sir.  Though our man with the Cobra is running low on ammo:  there’s been more biotics here than we thought.~

“Understood.  Tell our missile boys to save their ammo for any large groups they see from this point on.  Snipers are to prioritize targets.  We want a high kill count from this after all.”

~Yes, sir.  And Mylos?~

“He’s mine.”

--

Things were going well so far.  Mylos and his group had managed to pick up nine other turians, some of them already armed and suffered minimal casualties so far.  Faesus was having fun pulling or lifting targets so the other’s had clearer shots at them when he wasn’t busy protecting everyone with his barrier.  Also on the plus side, the bunker was now in sight and it looked like it was still secure, for now.

“Mylos, roof!” one of the students cried.

Mylos looked up and immediately recognized the weapon.  “That’s a Hydra!  Barriers, now!” he yelled.

He, Faesus and the other biotics put up their barriers just in time before the wave of mini missiles hit. From the screams he knew he lost at lost at least one student regardless of their protection.  When the smoke cleared, he saw with dismay that he lost three, including a biotic.

“Mylos…,” he heard Faesus groan.  “I don’t think we can take another barrage like that….”

“I agree,” Mylos said, feeling the strain himself.  He saw the man poke his head over the roof edge again:  he immediately started firing on that position.  “Go!  Run for the bunker!  I’ll keep that bastard busy!”

“But….”

“GO!”

While the others ran, Mylos tried to pace his shots so that he kept the man under cover long enough for the others to get to safety.  However, the man got bold and popped up to fire on the fleeing group regardless of his efforts.  In a last ditch effort, Mylos reached out with his biotics and somehow managed to snatch the weapon right from the man’s hands.

“No more Hydra for you,” he said, walking over to pick up the weapon.  Just then he heard the comm line crackle.  “Hello?” he asked, but he got no response.  Taking it off, he noticed that the device was damaged.  Damn.

Looking toward the bunker, he saw that Faesus and the others had made it.  Faesus hadn’t gone in yet he noticed and the younger turian was frantically waving at him.  What is he…, he thought when he realized that Faesus kept looking behind him.

Mylos turned around, but found himself flying before he get a look at what Faesus was trying to warn him about.  He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him and tumbled a few times before stopping.  Before he could get his breath back, someone picked him up by his chest armor and he found himself staring at a face that nearly froze his heart.

That face…, he thought, staring directly at the orangish tan face with yellow eyes.  Wh-why do I feel I’ve seen it before?

“Hello, Mylos,” the man said, his voice cold and also seemed to be trying to trigger something in his mind.  “We met at last.”  Mylos found himself flying again, his back slamming against the wall.

How does he know my name?  Mylos thought as he coughed, thinking he tasted a bit of blood in his mouth.  Now, at least, he could see the whole man.  He was wearing medium armor, colored brown with a familiar, bold, dark green colored cross shape on the chest plate and his left arm was a rather nasty looking cybernetic arm.  He’s a Tyranor, he realized, when he recognized the marking.  Behind him, members of this man’s gang were making a push on the bunker, completely ignoring the little drama between Mylos and this man.

“But why do you look familiar?” the man said, stalking toward him.  Mylos searched for his weapon, but noticed it was now behind this bastard.  “No matter…,” the man said raising a pistol and aiming at Mylos’ head.

For a fleeting second, Mylos felt like he was looking back in time, to a time when he was much younger, staring down a similar barrel and at the same face behind it.  Was this man the one that shot him all those years ago?  The one that tried to kill him and stole his memories?  Whether it was or not, it was enough to spur him into action.

“Not again!” Mylos screamed as he sent out a wave of biotic force, knocking the man off his feet as he fired, his shot only grazing his cheek.

For a moment, there was quiet stillness as the two looked at each other.  Mylos felt confusion at both what he just did and what he remembered, especially the latter, while the man was staring at him with a look of disbelief and shock on his face.  “It can’t be…,” the man snarled, getting to his feet.  “I killed you, years ago!”

At that moment, Mylos could only think about running, a primal fear taking over both mind and body.  He scrambled to his feet and bolted, the man screaming in rage behind him.  Mylos wasn’t sure what the man screamed, but he was pretty sure it was along the lines of ‘kill him’, as it seemed every Tyranor in shouting distance was now shooting at him.  The first few rounds grazed his arms and legs, nothing serious, but as just as he ran into a building, a sniper got him in the leg.

“Ugh!” Mylos screamed as he just managed to catch himself on the wall.  He forced himself to continue on deeper into the building, out of the snipers reach.  Outside he could hear the firefight suddenly intensify: did reinforcements finally arrive?  No guarantee though that one man wasn’t still after him himself.  

Looking around, he realized he somehow got into the mess hall and he was right by where he and Lusca usually sat for meals.  Lusca.  The thought of his love snapped him out of fear for his life to fear for another’s.  Please…please still be out on errands…, he thought as he spared a moment to check his leg.  As far as he could tell, the round didn’t break a bone, so bleeding should be all he had to worry about, hopefully.

A growl behind him was his only warning before someone grabbed him by the arm.  Once again he found himself face to face with a man whom he recognized, yet did not.  “I’ll make sure you stay dead this time by ripping your head off!” the man snarled as Mylos felt the cybernetic hand close around his neck.

Mylos gasped as he felt his windpipe start to get crushed and the blades on the hand’s fingers start to bite through the fabric of his clothing and into his flesh.  He tried desperately to think of something to break free, but the only thing he could think of was an intensified version of Lusca’s biotic trick, but he feared that would only result in that hand clenching even harder on his throat.  Time was running out, he was starting to see spots in front of his eyes….

Then suddenly, someone slammed a metal food tray on top of the bastards head.  Taken by surprise, the man let go and Mylos collapsed on the floor gasping for breath.  “Leave him alone, you bastard!” he heard a familiar voice say.

“Lusca?” Mylos coughed as he struggled to sit up, only for his eyes to go wide in fear when he saw that it was indeed Lusca squaring off against the man.  “Lusca!” he screamed.  “Get out of here!”

“Not while this bastard is trying to kill you!” Lusca retorted, barely evading a swipe from that man’s cybernetic hand.

Get up, get up! he told himself, fighting against his body’s desire to just lie down and rest.  All the running and biotic usage had taken their toll on him and he was certain he was starting to feel the effects of blood loss on top of that.  However, if he didn’t get up, both he and Lusca will likely be dead in the next few minutes.  With that in mind, he finally managed to get to his feet, only to witness the most horrible thing in his life.

The man had managed to catch her and before Mylos could react, the man plunged the blades of his cybernetic hand into her abdomen.  “No!”  Mylos screamed, as he helplessly watched Lusca then get tossed away as if she was a piece of trash.

“Your turn,” the man growled, turning toward him.

“No….” Mylos was still focused on Lusca’s prone form not so far away.  She was still breathing, which meant there was a chance to save her.  But first…he had to get rid of this guy.  “You…,” he growled, raging filling his head.  “Bastard! ”

His biotic field flared to life, powered by his rage.  The first thing he threw was a knife that had been left on the floor:  the bastard managed to twist away in time, the projectile only splitting one of his cheek fringe near the tip.  Mylos kept throwing things, anything that was within his reach.  The man managed to dodge most of the things, or blocked it with some kind of shield he had on his cybernetic arm, and the few hits he did get didn’t seem to do much to him.

Then just as quickly as it started, his biotics stopped responding and he felt his nose start to bleed.  Exhausted, Mylos nearly collapsed, but forced himself to stay on his feet.  The man, seeing his chance, charged at him, but Mylos had one more weapon at his disposal.  At the last moment, he activated the omni-blade and swung, catching the man in the face, cutting off a piece of the man’s left mandible.  

He started to swing the blade again, but the man caught his arm with his cybernetic hand and squeezed.  Mylos screamed in pain as the bones in his forearm snapped.  “All out of tricks now are you?” the man said with a malicious grin.  “Time to die.”

Just then a frying pan hit him squarely in the head.  Stunned, the man started to stagger away, only then to be blasted right out of the mess hall by a strong, targeted biotic blast.  Mylos looked at the source to see an unhappy Oneus Tismar….

--

Jorox shook the stars out of his head, a part of him wondering just what hit him.  From the pain in his side, he believed he broke a rib or two at some point, not to mention all the cuts and bruises he got from flying furniture.  Little shit, he thought as he finally got his wits about him.  Jorox was about to run right back into the mess hall when Besyr ran up to him.

“Boss!  The military is here!  We need to go!” he said.

“No!” Jorox growled.  “I had him!  I just need more….”

“Jorox, if we do not leave now we will be overrun!”  Besyr insisted.  “That man’s life is not worth our whole operation being wiped out!”

Jorox growled, having half a mind to continue on anyway, despite it all.  Then the logical, saner part of him took over and he realized that Besyr was right.  “Order the retreat,” he snarled unhappily.  “We are done here…for now.”

“Yes, sir,” Besyr said before giving the order.

Jorox took one last look at the mess hall before turning and running himself.  This is not over, Mylos, he thought bitterly.  I killed you once…I will do so again.  I will do everything in my power to end you!

--

“Sounds like they are starting to retreat,” Oneus said, apparently listening to comm chatter in his headset.  “Are you alright?”

Mylos shook his head, but pointed at Lusca as he started to limp toward her still form.  Every muscle in his body ached and his body was screaming for him to just lie down and sleep.  He refused to obey it though and stubbornly kept going, desperate to get to Lusca.

Oneus caught on quickly and rushed to Lusca’s side.  “It doesn’t look good for her, Mylos,” he said grimly as he checked her over.  “I have some medi-gel in my omni-tool…but….”

“My…los…,” Lusca said weakly.

“Lusca…,” Mylos said as he finally reached her and knelt beside her.  “Hang on…please….”

“It…it looks like we…won’t get…to settle down…,” she said softly, with a sad smile.

“Don’t talk like that…, Mylos pleaded.  “We…we just need to get the medical team here….”

“Mylos,” Oneus said.  “Her vitals are dropping…fast.”

“No…no…you must hang on, Lusca!”  He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers.  “I-I can’t lose you…please….”

“I’m…sorry…Mylos,” Lusca whispered, putting a hand on his cheek.  “I…lov….”  Her hand slipped away from her face and she fell still.

“No…no….Lusca!”  Mylos started shaking her.  “Come back…please!”

“Mylos.”  Oneus put a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry…but she is gone.”

“No….”  Overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion, he finally collapsed.