Drift Effect

Chapter 14: Frame by Frame

In the dimly lit room, Elsie Richardson steadied her breath as she rose from her seated position, lifting herself with her thumbs. Bathed in amber light, her face glistened with a subtle sheen, her eyes closed in concentration. After holding the pose for a few seconds, she gradually eased her arms, maintaining a partial stance.

Inhaling deeply, she then exhaled slowly.

A soft beep reverberated through the room, prompting Elsie to open her eyes and glance at her now brightly lit terminal. "Lights," she commanded, flooding the space with warm illumination. Unfurling her legs, she rose from her seated stance, her feet finding purchase on the carpeted floor as she made her way to the terminal. With a wave of her hand, she accessed the message she had just received and smiled.

"Dawn," she called to her AI. "Summon the others for a briefing. Let them know it's time.”

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As the sun of this alien world began its descent, the air vibrated with the fading echoes of battle—a symphony of gunfire's final gasps, explosions' last reverberations, the strained groans of armor plates, and the desperate gasps of wounded turian soldiers retreating from the alien city. Behind them lay a desolate tableau of smoldering ruins and smoking craters, stained with the blue and red ichor of fallen comrades.

Though the alien casualties stood as a somber testament to their mortality, it provided little comfort. Instead, a deep ache settled in the chests of each turian, a bitter residue of defeat clinging to their throats like ash. The swift and merciless rout had hollowed them out, mirroring the smoldering wasteland they now left behind.

The weight of defeat pressed doubly hard on Lieutenant Caius Scipio, commanding officer of a century within the Fourth Legion. He and his comrades had spearheaded the expedition, striving to secure a foothold on this alien world.

Their journey had been fraught with chaos, which upon reflection, accurately represented the formidable adversary they faced. Lieutenant Scipio grappled with the enigma of the Carolinians—were they an advanced civilization or a primitive one? They wielded slug throwers reminiscent of ancient turian weaponry, yet their firearms were refined enough to overwhelm kinetic barriers with a mere burst of fire. And then there were the plasma small-arms, honest-to-goodness weapons that bypassed turian shields entirely, delivering swift death with each crimson bolt.

Fortunately, the turians adapted quickly. Soldiers swiftly learned that seeking cover held far more value in their battle, as well as the transient nature of their refuge. Despite the carolinians' tactics, resembling the fluidity of Asari combat with their adeptness at ambushing isolated turian units, the absence of biotics failed to give the legion pause. Instead, the aliens compensated with sheer numbers and unyielding resolve.

As turians pressed deeper into enemy territory, they encountered increasingly fierce resistance. The relentless onslaught forced them into a deadlock, stalling their initial momentum.

Despite the stalemate, Scipio remained confident in their eventual breakthrough. The lack of discipline and unity among the carolinians, evident in their absence of standardized weapons and uniforms, as well as their disjointed combat tactics, contrasted sharply with the cohesion of Hierarchy soldiers. While the aliens possessed formidable weaponry, Turian history taught that equipment alone did not ensure victory. To Scipio, it was evident that the deadlock would prove temporary.

Or so he believed.

Everything changed in an instant when, from the skies, carolinians clad in complete metal armor descended upon them like vengeful spirits. Armed with formidable long-arms, only a dozen or so of these behemoths were needed to tip the scales, gradually pushing the Turian legion back.