The surface stretched before them in shades of gray and green—crumbling concrete overtaken by wild vegetation, skeletal buildings rising like broken teeth against an overcast sky. Arthur kept his rifle ready as they moved through what had once been a commercial district, his prosthetic hands steady on the weapon.
Ash led the formation with practiced confidence, moving from cover to cover with efficient grace. Lyra shadowed her, datapad in hand, cross-referencing their position against topographical maps and known Rapture patrol patterns. Behind them, Arthur maintained center position while Scarlet and Nyx covered the flanks.
"Contact," Lyra whispered over comms. "Ant-type patrol, thirty meters east. Eight units."
Ash raised her fist, and the squad froze. Through a gap in the rubble, Arthur could see the Raptures moving in their characteristic formation—mechanical bodies skittering across broken asphalt, sensor arrays sweeping methodically. They were following a patrol route, not hunting.
"We wait," Ash said quietly.
They held position for seven minutes while the patrol passed. Arthur's legs didn't ache—his prosthetics didn't fatigue the way flesh did—but he felt the tension in his jaw, the heightened awareness that came with being exposed. Above them, he caught movement against the clouds. Flying Raptures, circling in wide patterns.
"They're everywhere," Nyx muttered.
"They don't care about ground targets unless we give them reason to," Ash replied. "Keep noise discipline and we're invisible to them. It's the ones on the ground we need to avoid."
Once the patrol cleared, they continued northeast, following Ash through a route that wove between ruined buildings and overgrown streets. The Cerberus Nikke moved with the certainty of someone who'd walked this path before, choosing positions that offered maximum cover and avoiding areas where ambush would be likely.
Two hours into the journey, they paused in what had been a parking garage. The structure still stood, mostly intact, providing shelter from aerial observation. Arthur checked his squad—everyone operational, no signs of wear.
"How much further today?" he asked Ash.
"Another twelve kilometers before we reach a suitable camp position. Old residential area with good sight lines and multiple exit routes." She took a drink from her canteen, her green eyes scanning their surroundings constantly. "Shepard and I camped there twice. It's as safe as anywhere on the surface gets."
Arthur nodded. "Take five, then we continue."
As they rested, he found himself watching Ash. The way she held herself, the efficiency of her movements—it spoke of extensive combat experience and deep-rooted discipline. "You served with Commander Shepard for how long?"
"Two years," Ash said. "Since my conversion. Cerberus pulled strings to keep our squad together—unusual for Nikkes, but Shepard had proven herself valuable enough that they accommodated her requests."
"What was she like?" Lyra asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.
Ash's expression softened slightly. "Professional. Competent. She treated us like soldiers, not equipment. Listened when we had tactical input, trusted our capabilities." She paused. "A lot like you, Commander Cousland."
Scarlet glanced at Arthur, something unreadable in her crimson eyes.
"The rest of your squad," Arthur prompted. "You mentioned them in the briefing."
"Zero and Kasumi." Ash's voice carried fondness mixed with respect. "Zero's a combat specialist, custom conversion. Cerberus gave her experimental biotic field technology—she can generate force barriers and project them as attacks. Devastating in close quarters. She's also got the foulest mouth I've ever heard, human or Nikke. Covered in tattoos, beautiful face that she uses to lure people into underestimating her right before she tears them apart."
Nyx grinned. "Sounds like my kind of woman."
"You'd either love her or want to shoot her," Ash said with a slight smile. "Probably both. Kasumi's different—former thief before conversion. Got caught breaking into a Central Government facility and chose Nikke conversion over incarceration. She's incredibly agile, talented hacker, uses an SMG like it's part of her body. Can infiltrate anywhere, crack any system."
"How'd they handle Shepard's death?" Arthur asked carefully.
Ash's expression closed off. "About as well as any of us. Zero put three holes in the briefing room wall. Kasumi hasn't spoken since extraction. They're both being evaluated for psychological stability before reassignment."
The weight of that hung in the air. Arthur understood the implications—Nikkes who formed attachments to fallen commanders were considered compromised, potentially defective. The system would rather break those bonds than acknowledge grief as legitimate.
"If the conversion succeeds," Lyra said quietly, "will she remember them?"
"I don't know." Ash's voice was barely above a whisper. "Custom conversions have better memory retention than mass-produced units, but there's always fragmentation. She might remember everything. She might remember nothing. She might remember pieces that don't fit together anymore." She looked at Lyra directly. "Do you remember your conversion?"
"Fragments." Lyra's blue eyes showed distant calculation. "Faces without names. Emotions without context. I know I had a life before, but it feels like someone else's memories played back through broken equipment."
Ash nodded slowly. "Then you understand why this matters. Even if Shepard comes back different, even if she's fragmented—she deserves the chance. She wouldn't want her experience wasted."
They moved out after the break, continuing northeast through increasingly ruined territory. The buildings here had taken heavy damage during the war—massive holes blown through structures, entire blocks reduced to rubble. Nature had reclaimed much of it, vegetation growing thick through broken concrete.
Twice more they encountered patrols and waited them out. Once, a group of Soldier-class Raptures passed within ten meters of their position. Arthur could hear the mechanical whir of their joints, see the red glow of their sensor arrays sweeping the area. They held absolutely still until the patrol moved on.
The sun was setting when they reached the residential area Ash had mentioned. The neighborhood sat on elevated ground, offering clear sight lines in all directions. Houses stood in various states of decay, but several still had intact roofs and walls.
Ash led them to a two-story home with a reinforced basement. "Shepard and I secured this location. Basement has only one entrance, upper floors give us observation positions, and there are three viable exit routes if we need to evacuate quickly."
They conducted a thorough sweep before settling in. The basement was dry and relatively intact, with enough space for all five of them. Arthur approved the position—defensible, concealed, with good tactical options.
"We set up decoys," Nyx said, already unpacking specialized equipment. "Standard protocol for extended surface operations. Plant noise generators and movement sensors in a perimeter around our actual position. Any Rapture patrol gets diverted to investigate the decoys while we stay quiet."
Over the next hour, they established a defensive perimeter. Nyx and Scarlet placed six decoy units at two-hundred-meter intervals around the house, each one programmed to emit random sounds and heat signatures that would attract Rapture attention away from their camp. Lyra set up a monitoring station that would alert them if any Raptures breached the perimeter.
"Guard rotation," Arthur said once everything was secured. "Two-hour shifts. Ash, you take first watch since you know the area. Then Scarlet, then me, then Lyra, then Nyx. Any signs of significant Rapture activity, wake everyone immediately."
They ate field rations in relative silence, the weight of the first day settling over them. Arthur noted that everyone remained alert despite the physical exertion—Nikkes didn't fatigue the way humans did, but extended operations still took a psychological toll.
"Good work today," he said quietly. "We covered twenty-three kilometers through hostile territory without contact. That's solid performance."
"Tomorrow's going to be harder," Ash said. "We're moving into heavier contested zones. The Rapture concentration increases significantly as we get closer to Sector Eighteen."
"Then we rest tonight and stay sharp tomorrow." Arthur checked his rifle, then his sidearm. "Everyone get what sleep you can."
Ash climbed to the second floor to take first watch. Scarlet and Lyra settled into their sleeping rolls, though Arthur knew Nikkes didn't truly sleep—they entered a standby state that allowed rapid activation if needed. He sat against the wall, processing the day's events.
Nyx approached quietly, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim light filtering through the basement windows. She settled beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"You did good today," she said softly. "Kept us moving, kept us safe, didn't second-guess the calls."
"We had a good guide." Arthur glanced toward the stairs where Ash had gone. "She knows this terrain."
"She's competent." Nyx's hand found his thigh. "But she's following your leadership, not the other way around. You're holding this squad together."
Arthur felt her fingers trace higher, felt the familiar heat of desire cut through tactical focus. "Nyx—"
"I've got watch in a few hours." Her voice was low, intimate. "Want to make sure I'm... properly relaxed first."
She moved with fluid grace, positioning herself between his legs, her hands working his belt with practiced efficiency. Arthur's prosthetic fingers tangled in her short purple hair as she freed him from his pants, her bronze-toned skin warm against him.
When her mouth closed around him, hot and wet and perfect, Arthur had to bite back a groan. His goddesium fingers tightened in her hair as she worked him with deliberate slowness, her tongue doing things that made his remaining biological systems respond with pure need.
She took him deeper, her throat contracting around him, and Arthur's head fell back against the wall. His prosthetic hands held her steady as she established a rhythm that was both torture and release—enough to build the pressure but slow enough to make it last.
Across the basement, Scarlet's crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness. She didn't speak, didn't move from her sleeping roll, but Arthur caught the slight upturn of her lips. Acknowledging, accepting, perhaps even amused by the dynamic.
Nyx increased her pace, one hand wrapping around his base while her mouth worked him with increasing intensity. Arthur's breathing grew ragged, his fingers tightening in her hair, the pressure building toward inevitable release.
When he came, she swallowed everything, her golden eyes locked on his face, watching his expression with satisfaction. She released him slowly, carefully, then tucked him back into his pants with the same efficiency she'd used to free him.
"Sleep well, Commander," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw before moving to her sleeping roll.
Arthur sat in the darkness, heart rate gradually returning to normal, feeling the complex weight of command and intimacy and survival all tangled together in ways he still hadn't fully reconciled.
Above them, Ash's footsteps moved across the second floor in steady patrol patterns.
Outside, the decoys hummed and clicked, creating false signatures in the night.
And somewhere ahead, in Sector Eighteen, Commander Jane Shepard's body waited in a race against time and decay.
Arthur closed his eyes, knowing he needed rest but finding his mind too active for true sleep. Two more days of travel through increasingly hostile territory. Then the recovery operation itself, with all its unknown variables.
He thought about Andersen's words—about pushing hard, about making difficult calls, about balancing care with mission necessity.
Tomorrow would test all of that.
But tonight, surrounded by his squad in a dead world, Arthur felt something he hadn't expected.
Hope.