Arnout aka The Emperors Angel/Fanfiction/Mass Effect/N7 Special Ops

Arnout: Class: Soldier, with Concussive Shot, Incendiary rounds Weapons: Pheaston ,M-90 Indra, M-11 Wraith, M-6 Carnifex Rashid: Class: Adept, with Singularity, Throw, Pull Weapons: M-9 Tempest, Disciple, M-77 Paladin Lars: Class: Soldier, with Concussive Shot, Incendiary rounds Weapons: M-76 Revenant, AT-12 Raider, M-6 Carnifex Gerard: Class: Infiltrator, with Cryo Ammunition, Tactical Cloak, Sticky Grenade, Sabotage Weapons: N-7 Valiant, M-11 Wraith, M-6 Carnifex Michael (Mikey): Class: Infiltrator, with Disruptor Ammunition, Tactical Cloak, Incinerate, Sabotage Weapons: N-7 Valiant, M-11 Wraith, M-6 Carnifex

Chapter 1
Arnout gazed through his binoculars, and marked the cannibals looming around the target building, to make Gerard's job easier. "Arnout." The radio came to life. "We've got Harvesters incoming. Make it fast." Arnout gave Gerard his binoculars back. "Copy. Maintain radio silence as much as possible." He signalled with his hands to Gerard, who took up position by a window, while Arnout took up position by the exit downstairs. "Three, two, one, go!"

The team didn't bother with standard Alliance kit, and Arnout was no different. "Quality rules" Arnout thought to himself, and nothing said quality more than Turian made weapons. Arnout pulled out an assault rifle dubbed the Pheaston. "What is good enough for the Turian rank-and-file will certainly be good enough for me." Arnout permitted himself a second thought about something else than his objective.

Gerard banged of three headshots with his N7 Valiant sniper rifle. Arnout was standing at the ready with his rifle in his gloved hands, with its high calibre barrel and enlarged thermal clip in his hands. Before the corpses had even hit the dirt, Arnout stormed through the door of the building they were hiding in, across the street, into the building they had been observing, mere milliseconds before the front of their hideout disintegrated from hostile fire.

From the other team came another radio message: "Arnout, thirty seconds before six worm-necks are on us, and we've only got one Hydra left. Make it happen!" Arnout ignored the message, and ran into the hallway of his target building, where he spotted several Husks coming down the stairs, the same stairs he had to go up. Without even bothering to aim, Arnout pointed his Pheaston at the Husks, and pulled the trigger. With a five second burst, Arnout's explosive rounds made short work of the Husks.

Skipping over the smouldering remains of the Husks and running up the stairs, Arnout ejected his thermal clip. With his adrenaline painfully high, he burst into the room where the resistance HQ had been. Two Cannibals where waiting for him, but Arnout didn't stop to shoot. Racing past the first Cannibal, Arnout's rifle spit bullets, slicing the Cannibal in half. Feeling rounds hit his shields; Arnout slightly adjusted his course, now heading straight for the second Cannibal. It apparently realised what was coming as it tried to dodge, but Arnout let go of his rifle with his right hand, and raised it. On his mental command, a red hot ceramic blade formed from his omnitool, and Arnout smashed the blade through the creature's head.

Catching his breath, Arnout calmly looked around the room, and walked over to his objective; a resistance datacache. Next to the cache where the unarmoured and unshielded remains of three farmers, only equipped with cheap Volus guns. Arnout saluted the killed resistance fighters, his face grim, hidden behind his visor, and replenished his supplies.

After his omnitool finished downloading the data, Arnout picked up his rifle again, and exited the room. Taking a peek down the stairs, Arnout saw a couple of Cannibals standing by the door. Carefully taking aim, Arnout fired his concussive shot, knocking the Cannibals to the ground, and then sprayed them with bullets.

"Arnout, we took out two of the Harvesters before they could land, but now we've got a Banshee on our ass. We need to get to the damn shuttle!" Arnout could hear the wail of the Banshee in the background. "Acknowledged. Gerard, cover their retreat, I'll take up position near the extraction point. The shuttle should be enroute, E.T.A. ten minutes. RUN!"

As Arnout stepped out the door, a few rounds hit his shields. He quickly found cover behind a burned out car. "Shit." Arnout thought to himself. "I'll just have to run for it." Getting up, Arnout began sprinting down the street, keeping an eye on his shields, finding cover when they were low, killing Husk and Cannibals left and right as he ran by.

Arnout ran down the street, took a right and ran down another street, until he reached the town's main square, which was big enough for a shuttle to land. He was headed for a building with a good vantage point, which had been cleared just after they had landed. Heading up to the roof, Arnout pulled out his M-90 Indra, the only full automatic military sniper rifle in the galaxy.

The team had left a weapons cache on the roof, so Arnout had more than enough firepower at his disposal to cover the retreat of this team. "I'm there. Shuttle should be three minutes out." "That's good. We are getting closer!" Came the reply, as Arnout heard the gunfire coming closer.

Gerard was the first to round the corner to the square. He was holding his M-11 Wraith shotgun. Finding cover behind a garbage bin half a dozen Cannibals appeared in the street. Arnout emptied his Indra at them, killing four. "Two left. Make them shots count." Gerard cloaked, got up from behind the garbage bins and emptied his shotgun before his cloak deactivated.

Arnout radioed Gerard. "Nice way to break in some shiny, new, very pricy equipment, is it not?"  "O, shut up. A Marauder got through my shields, and now I've got a bullet in my arm. Even after the medigel, it hurts like hell every time I shoot." "Get up here. The others will need support very soon."

Barely a minute later, Arnout had exchanged his Pheaston for a Striker Assault Rifle, a fully automatic grenade launcher, made by and for the physically strongest and biggest race in the known galaxy. Gerard had taken up position on the roof's edge, carefully laying down his N7 Valiant, ready to provide cover fire. Arnout had barely joined him, not even bothering to carefully position his rifle, when Mikey came running onto the square. "They are on our heels. Get ready."

Behind him, Rashid and Lars were trying to slow the tide of reaper forces pouring onto the square. Rashid signalled Lars to buy him time to build up biotic power. Lars, in response, spun round, shouldered his M-76 Revenant, produced a deafening roar, and emptied his rifle into the oncoming tide of enemies. Husks, Cannibals, Marauders and a Brute where ripped apart by Lars's explosive rounds.

You could see the mass effect fields shimmering around Rashid as he build up his power. Calmly walking out of Lars's shadow, Rashid raised his hand, the palm outward to the reaper forces. As he closed his hand, a huge singularity appeared, effectively blocking access to the square.

Rashid collapsed from fatigue. Lars was prepared, and caught Rashid as he ran by, heading towards the rendezvous building. Surprisingly long lasting, the singularity sucked in several Husks and Cannibals, and allowed Rashid and Lars to safely get to cover.

When they got to the roof, Arnout was franticly trying to contact the shuttle. "Max! Max! Come in! Come in, goddammit! You're late, and we need extraction now!" Nothing but static came back to Arnout. "Shit. Rashid, find a way off this roof. We'll hold position." Rashid, lying on his back, panting for breath, trying to regain some strength, shook his head. "Dude, I just laid down the biggest singularity of my life, the third of today. I'm not some damn Asari. Give me a break, would you?" Arnout flipped Rashid the finger, picked up his Striker and joined the rest of his team.

Gerard looked up from his firing position. Arnout gave him a thumps up, so Gerard got up too secure their fallback route. "Erh, guys? I think we got lucky." Gerard pointed to a small dot high in the sky. "Yep. It's an Alliance Shuttle!" He said, looking through the scope of his weapon. At that moment, their radios came to life. "Alliance N7 Special Ops team Gamma Three Six, ETA one minute. Hang in there!"

Over the course of their last minute on the ground, Arnout and his comrades depleted their entire stack of heatsinks, killing dozens of Reaper troops. The shuttle pilot was obviously experienced, as he didn't try to land on the roof, but hovered at the back of the building, with just centimetres between the shuttle and the edge of the roof.

Lars Helped Rashid up, while the others covered the retreat. Mikey had picked up Arnout's Pheaston, so Arnout could still use the Striker. Arnout fired his last Striker grenades off the edge of the roof, and started running towards the shuttle. He leaped over the hole where the stairs were and dropped his last pineapple grenades down the stairs. Before Arnout reached the shuttle, a plume of dust and the howling of Husks was his reward.

With his team completely worn out, lying in the shuttles seats, Arnout realised the shuttle's pilot wasn't Max. With one big step, Arnout reached the pilot. Arnout's matt black Carnifex appeared in his hand. Arnout pressed the extended barrel of his Carnifex into the back of the pilots head. "Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is my pilot?" "If you don't mind, I'll just fly the shuttle, and not raise my hands, okay?" By now, the rest of the team had also drawn their weapons, more as an instinctive reaction, than to actually combat a threat. "Head to the Alliance ship in orbit. And don't try anything funny." Arnout pressed his gun into the pilots skin some more, to make his point. "Take it easy Arnout, I don't think he is Cerberus." Rashid, still being supported by Lars, placed his hand on Arnout's arm. "I'm Alliance Flight Lieutenant Dominic Zhang, and I used to be the Alliance contact for the Resistance here. Your pilot tried to save me and some resistance fighters. A Marauder got to him and the resistance guys before I could get the Marauder. I was the only one with shields and armour. I'm sorry."

Dominic bent forward in his seat, revealing bullet holes in his armour, and blood on the seat. Arnout snapped his Carnifex back into its holster, on his hip. "I believe you. For now." Reaching past the pilot, Arnout activated the hailing systems. "Alliance Frigate SSV Gettysburg, this is Alliance N7 Special Ops team Gamma Three Six." "SSV Gettysburg here, come in." "Open the hatch, we are bringin' her in. We've got a pilot that doesn't know the ship." "Alrighty, I'll have the dock crew guide you in."

The docking bay doors closed, and atmosphere was restored in the docking bay, just as the shuttle powered down. Arnout grabbed Dominic by the rim of his armour, to which the helmet would normally be attached, and lifted him off his seat. "You're with me. We've got a date with the captain and the XO."

Gerard opened the hatch, and revealed a full security detail outside the shuttle, with readied weapons. Arnout, Dominic and the rest of the team stepped out of the shuttle. The sergeant in charge of the detail ordered the detail to lower their weapons, as she stepped forward. "You wanna-be N7's are always gettin' into trouble, aren't ya?" she said.

The sergeant was big, almost as big as Lars, and even through her size and shaven head, you could see she was kind of, well, cute, if you like that kind of cute, Arnout thought to himself. He had to bite his tongue to avoid making a sharp reply, but behind him, Rashid, now walking without support, burst into laughter, and Lars had to catch him again. "Hey, it's not my fault. My plans are good, he just always messes them up, and then calls it improvising." Rashid managed to utter, while pointing at Arnout.

Arnout had a sour look on his face, as he nodded his thanks to the sergeant. "Lars, get Rashid to the doc. He needs a banana bag. Gerard, you too. Mikey, armour. Help Lars with the weapons after you're done. Gerard, help out where you can after the doc patches you up. Rashid, you do the report. Debrief is in two hours. Try to get a shower before then." The team nodded, and took off.

Rashid pushed Lars away, rejecting his support, but nearly fell over in the process. Gerard turned on his heels, and as he walked backwards, mockingly saluted, while he shouted at Arnout. "We'll try to look our best for your girlfriend, Sir."

Arnout looked at the sergeant. "Sergeant, if you and your men would be so kind to escort us to the captain? I believe I'm a bit late for our meeting, though." The sergeant smiled. "Sure, LT. But isn't Captain Boularouzh in charge? Why are you giving the orders?" "Don't ask questions you do not want to know the answer too, a wise man once said. It's complicated." Arnout marched off, shoving Dominic out ahead of him.

Arnout knocked. After a good fifteen seconds the door swoofed open. "Don't try anything funny." Arnout whispered to Dominic, and placed a hand on his Carnifex, as they stepped inside the captain's cabin. Inside where the captain of the vessel, Roderic Von Buijs, and his XO, Martin Ust. The captain, with all due respect, looked like a pirate of the sixteenth or seventeenth century with his ragged beard, which covered the lower half of his face, and his eye patch.

Arnout knew the beard was to hide burn scars on the captain's neck, throat, and face, wounds suffered when Von Buijs was still a marine, in a fight against Batarian slavers. He didn't know where - or how – Von Buijs had come to need an eye patch. It was clear to Arnout that the crew knew, but didn't want to share.

"Lieutenant, relax. This man is not Cerberus. And he has nothing to do with your pilot's death." Von Buijs started off. Arnout saluted stiffly and formally, but kept his left hand on his Carnifex. The XO positioned himself between Arnout and the captain. "Son, we know you've hit a rough patch, been through hell and back, but that boy is not Cerberus. His sister was a lab-tech at Listening Post Theta." "I know. But he got Max killed." A tear rolled down Arnout's cheeck. "I promised that boy that he could fly me to Earth, climb in a Trident, and make the bitches pay. He didn't need to die!" Ust gently shoved Dominic, who was looking bleary eyed too, to the side, and placed his hand on Arnout's left hand. "Son, you want him to pay for the death of your protégé, Alliance Flight Lieutenant Maxim Hartman, that's completely normal. But it wasn't his fault." Arnout ignored the XO, and looked at Dominic. "He wasn't just my, our, protégé. He was like a pup, always looking up to us big, bad, marines with those..." Arnout shook his head. "Those, big, brown, puppy eyes. He was like our guardian angel, always there to get us out, when the shit got to deep."

Dominic collapsed onto the captain's cot. "I'm sorry. Okay? I wish it was different." Words flooded out of his mouth. "I swear that to every religion out there. But he came to rescue us, me and three of the resistance's best fighters. I provided cover, while they made for the shuttle. I was ready to die, when that Marauder appeared, right there, next to the shuttle. It cut them down, and nearly got me too!" Dominic's last words where nearly impossible to make out, his voice heavy with tears and regret.

"Arnout." Von Buys was leaning on his desk. "Max did the right thing. The thing you would have wanted him to do, the thing you ordered him to do on multiple occasions, even though it is extremely dangerous, trying a pick up at a unsecured site, without an extraction team. And, unfortunately, Max paid the ultimate price. The price so many of us have paid, since the arrival of the Reapers. But you can't let this get to you, because the Alliance needs you."

Arnout finally let go of his sidearm, and for a moment looked like he was going to throw a punch at Ust. Instead, he turned around and banged his head, with helmet still on, against the door with such force the door dented. A bitter, hate filled roar of frustration and anger came out. After a few moments Arnout managed to restrain his rage, grief, hate and frustration, took off his helmet, and looked at the crack in the visor. "I need a fucking drink."

To Arnout, the situation in the captain's cabin seemed to have lasted hours, while it was only a few minutes. After downing his first straight bourbon, (it was all the Von Buijs could offer, on such short notice) Arnout offered his hand to Dominic. "I'm sorry. But you have to understand, I loved Max like a little brother. And the same goes for my team. They might not have shown it, yet, but they loved him like I did." "I accept your apology, Lieutenant." "Call me Arnout. And I am glad Max didn't just die for nothing. You seem to be cut out of the right stuff." Arnout held out his glass to the captain. "Hit me again, sir, if you don't mind." Von Buijs didn't.

Dominic nearly had to run to keep up with Arnout, as he headed to the room the team had been using as bunk, briefing and debriefing room and armoury. "We have a debrief in 30 minutes, and we need you to fill in your part of the story, so Max's family gets to hear what they need, or, rather, what they want." "That he died a hero, trying to save me." "Yes. You will also probably be reassigned as our pilot, and quartermaster." "What? Cleaning the dirt off your guns and the blood of your armour?" Dominic looked like he didn't quite like the idea. "No. I don't trust you further than I can throw you, still a good 5 metres though, but not nearly enough to let you that close to my guns and armour. You will be responsible for getting us what we want for a mission. That kind of a quartermaster. And we are quite demanding." Dominic looked at Arnout's custom Carnifex. "I can see that. Nice hardware. That, sure as sure, isn't standard issue." Arnout stopped abruptly, and Dominic nearly bumped into him. "You are absolutely right, mister. But you know what? We got all kinds of customised, rare, expensive weapons. But all our armour is standard marine issue. And you are going to change that."

Arnout, with Dominic still in tow, reached the storeroom and quickly tapped in the code needed to unlock the door, which swoofed open. "The code is 1337. I don't know why that is so special, but one of my more shady alien friends once told me that this particular combination of numbers held a special meaning on the pre-First Contact war extranet." Dominic looked at Arnout. "Shady alien friends? Do I want to know?" "Mpf. You'd better get used to it. You can't get what you want through regular channels anymore these days. Max had some very good connections. Some probably won't want to deal with you, but the others know our money is good, so they'll stick." Arnout stepped inside. Mikey just looked up from the Valiant he was putting back together, but Lars pointed his Carnifex at Dominic. "What took you so long, and why is he still here?" "Put it down, Lars. He's one of us now. We need a pilot, and a quartermaster. He won't be Max, but that isn't his fault." Lars mumbled something under his breath. "Rashid will tell you the same thing, Lars. There is nothing that can be done about it." Tears rolled down Lars's face. "That doesn't make it any less fucked up." Mikey joined in: "Lars, accept it. It will suck even more if one of us bites it." "No, it won't. We live the life. We chose to do shit so crazy, you couldn't make it up. Max didn't." Arnout looked like he was going to say something, but Dominic beat him to it. "Max died doing a courageous thing. He was a hero. I heard I wasn't the only unsecure extraction he'd done." "A hero you say?" Lars shook his head, closed his eyes, whiped them with an oil stained hand and sighed deeply. "Yeah. He was a fucking hero." Lars got up, and carefully placed the Striker he'd been cleaning in a huge black bag. "I need to get wasted. That'll help. I'll go and hit on the security sergeant. I know she has a secret stash of something hidden somewhere." With these words, he walked out. "Don't be late for ..." Arnout tried reminding Lars about their debriefing, but realised it was futile. He tossed his helmet to Mikey. "I cracked the visor." Mikey didn't ask, but just raised his eyebrow, creating a look that said: "Why are you always breaking stuff, mate? It's getting annoying." And said: "I'll fix it. Get a shower." He shot Dominic a look. "You too. Welcome to the team."