Chapter 10: Eclipse's Poison - Part 1
POV: Marc Wayne
The lower levels of Omega reeked of recycled desperation. Here, below the entertainment districts and commercial zones, the station's environmental systems showed their age in the form of stale air that tasted of metal shavings and organic decay. Condensation dripped from rusted pipes, creating pools that reflected the sickly light of failing LED strips. Everything was cramped, dirty, and forgotten—the perfect place to hide things that shouldn't exist.
Marc descended into this urban underworld with Kreek as his guide, the Vorcha's intimate knowledge of "the deep places" proving invaluable. His pack had scattered throughout the lower levels over the past few days, cataloguing movements and gathering intelligence with the kind of efficiency that came from treating information warfare as a pack hunt.
"Bad-smell things here," Kreek reported in his characteristic mixture of broken English and native clicks. "Make pack-mates sick. Make all-things sick. Eclipse bring, Eclipse hide."
Marc's System corroborated the Vorcha's assessment, detecting atmospheric anomalies that suggested biological contamination. His enhanced senses picked up traces of something organic and wrong—not the familiar stenches of Omega's waste systems, but something actively hostile to life.
[ATMOSPHERIC ANALYSIS: ANOMALOUS BIOLOGICAL AGENTS DETECTED]
[CONTAMINATION LEVEL: MODERATE AND INCREASING]
[RECOMMEND ENVIRONMENTAL PROTECTION]
[WARNING: PATHOGEN CLASSIFICATION UNKNOWN]
They moved through maintenance corridors that had been designed for service drones rather than organic beings, spaces so cramped that Marc's enhanced reflexes were the only thing preventing him from becoming hopelessly wedged in the industrial maze. His Four-Eyed Vision gave him tactical advantages in the confined space, letting him track potential threats from impossible angles while Kreek navigated by scent and instinct.
"Eclipse nest there," Kreek said, pointing toward a section of the lower ward that had been sealed off with warning signs in multiple languages. "Pack watch three days. See many-guards. See fear-smell. See death-bringing containers."
Marc studied the target through a grimy observation port. The Eclipse had established a perimeter around what looked like a converted warehouse, their mercenaries wearing full environmental suits despite the fact that Omega's atmosphere was theoretically safe for most species. The kind of precautions that suggested they were dealing with something genuinely dangerous.
[TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: ECLIPSE SECURITY PERIMETER]
[GUARDS DETECTED: 8 VISIBLE, ESTIMATED 4-6 CONCEALED]
[EQUIPMENT: MILITARY-GRADE ENVIRONMENTAL SUITS]
[PATROL PATTERNS: PROFESSIONAL, ROTATING EVERY 90 MINUTES]
Marc began formulating an infiltration plan, but stopped when his enhanced vision caught movement that didn't fit the patterns. Through a partially obscured window, he glimpsed something that made his blood turn to ice.
Stasis pods. Dozens of them, arranged in neat rows like some kind of perverted garden. And floating within those pods, shapes that his game knowledge recognized with mounting horror.
Seekers. Collector scout drones, insect-like creatures designed for infiltration and intelligence gathering. They shouldn't exist yet—the Collectors weren't supposed to begin their harvest operations for years. But there they were, suspended in artificial sleep while Eclipse scientists studied their biology.
"This is wrong," Marc thought, his System flooding his vision with error messages as it tried to categorize organisms that existed outside its programmed database. "The timeline is completely fractured. Someone has brought Collector technology to Omega years too early."
[WARNING: UNRECOGNIZED SPECIES DETECTED]
[GENETIC MATERIAL: HEAVILY CORRUPTED]
[THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME]
[RECOMMENDATION: IMMEDIATE TACTICAL WITHDRAWAL]
But retreat wasn't an option. If Collector technology was being studied on Omega, it represented a threat that transcended anything Marc had prepared for. The Seekers were just scouts—if they were here, it meant the Collectors themselves might not be far behind.
Marc activated his omni-tool's recording function, capturing visual evidence of the stasis pods while his enhanced hearing picked up fragments of conversation from within the facility. A Salarian voice, clinical and excited, discussing "unprecedented adaptive biology" and "implications for biomechanical enhancement."
Dr. Ree. Marc recognized the scientist from Aria's intelligence files—a brilliant but ethically flexible researcher who'd been selling his expertise to the highest bidder for decades. If anyone on Omega was capable of studying Collector technology, it would be him.
"Kreek," Marc whispered, "we need to get closer. Can your pack create a distraction?"
The Vorcha's eyes brightened with predatory enthusiasm. "Pack very good at distractions! Make noise, make chase, make Eclipse look wrong-way?"
"Perfect. Give me ten minutes to position myself, then—"
The proximity alarm that shrieked through the facility cut off Marc's planning. Emergency lighting bathed the area in pulsing red as automated systems detected the presence of unauthorized personnel. Through the warehouse windows, Marc watched Eclipse mercenaries scrambling to defensive positions while Dr. Ree frantically initiated emergency protocols.
"We triggered something," Marc realized with growing dread. "A motion sensor, a bio-scanner, something that—"
The stasis pods began opening.
One by one, the containers that had held the Seeker drones began releasing their contents into the warehouse atmosphere. The creatures within writhed to consciousness with insectoid movements that spoke of alien intelligence and hostile purpose. Their compound eyes reflected the emergency lighting in fractal patterns that hurt to look at directly.
[CRITICAL ALERT: CONTAINMENT BREACH]
[COLLECTOR SCOUT DRONES: ACTIVE AND HOSTILE]
[ESTIMATED SURVIVAL TIME WITHOUT INTERVENTION: 4.7 MINUTES]
Marc found himself facing a choice that would define not just his mission, but potentially the entire timeline. He could flee, preserving the secret of his knowledge while leaving Omega to face a Collector infestation years ahead of schedule. He could attempt to warn the Eclipse mercs, though his speech curse would probably transform any coherent explanation into gibberish about alien hospitality services. Or he could take direct action, risking exposure and potentially making things worse.
The decision crystallized as he watched the first Seeker drone phase through the warehouse wall, its bio-mechanical form adapting to move through solid matter with impossible fluidity. In moments, those things would be loose in Omega's population centers, gathering intelligence for masters who wouldn't arrive for years but might accelerate their timeline based on the data collected.
Marc made his choice.
He grabbed Kreek and sprinted toward the warehouse's main entrance, activating every combat enhancement his System could provide. His Vorcha Regeneration prepared for inevitable injury while his Batarian Four-Eyed Vision tracked multiple threats simultaneously.
"What we do?" Kreek asked, his natural bloodlust obviously approving of whatever insane plan Marc was formulating.
"We're going to overload the power grid," Marc replied, his enhanced reflexes carrying him through Eclipse defensive positions with impossible precision. "Destroy the pods, kill the drones, and hope we don't trigger a station-wide emergency."
The plan was insane, suicidal, and exactly the kind of impossible heroics that would either save Omega or get everyone killed. But as Marc crashed through the warehouse entrance with Kreek at his side, guns blazing and Systems screaming warnings, he realized that this was what he'd been building toward since the moment he'd awakened in that Cerberus lab.
He wasn't just surviving anymore. He was fighting for the future, one impossible choice at a time.
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: TIMELINE DISRUPTION]
[EFFECTS: UNKNOWN]
[WARNING: MAJOR DECISION POINT REACHED]
The explosion that followed would echo through Omega's lower levels, announcing to anyone listening that something significant had just changed in the galaxy's carefully ordered progression toward extinction.
Whether that change was for the better remained to be seen.
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