Sufficiently Advanced Percussive Maintenance 3

Wrapping her head around the whatever-the-fuck of the sight could wait until there was no longer a Reaper perched on the Citadel Tower.  “Advance to cover,” Jane ordered, and they moved as one, every one of them positioned to support two others should an attack come.

The blond oddity awaited them, unconcerned about standing in the open next to the remains of the bisected Colossus.  He continued to speak to them in exaggerated fashion, miming words in the vacuum.  Bits of burnt beard and hair drifted loose as he gestured, reenacting something with his axe and pointing at the geth corpses he had scattered about.  His face looked like someone who had stayed out in the sun for too long.

Shepard and her squad hustled past him and ducked into cover, taking up positions around what looked like a small comms tower.  For now, there were no geth in sight ahead, which meant they likely waited in ambush.  “Tali?”

“Pursuit has stopped their advance,” she said, not looking up from her omni-tool.  “They’ve cleared the defences we left, but that’s all.  They’re just waiting.”  She began to take control of the turrets and other defences in the area.

Jane pushed back the familiar recrimination at dragging someone as young as Tali into this mess, and nodded.  “Wrex, watch the front.  Ash, rear.  Garrus, up that tower.  Liara, with me.”  Her squad were quick to follow orders, Garrus scrambling up the tower for a sniper’s perch easily.

The blond had started not quite pouting when they had pushed past him to get into cover, but he brightened as Jane and Liara approached him.  He had apparently realised that he was getting nowhere with the attempted lipreading, and had resorted to charades, making large chopping gestures with his axe - that apparently had a wooden haft of all things - and pointing up at Sovereign.

“Do you think he means to attack the Reaper with his melee weapon?” Liara asked.

“He did it to the geth,” Jane said, stowing her rifle.  She took an emergency bag mask from a compartment on her hip and handed it to the man.  It wasn’t exactly combat rated, meant more for civilians or to evac someone when their helmet was compromised, but it would do.

The man took the mask and unfolded it, only taking a moment to understand how the soft device worked.  As soon as he had the clear mask tightened around his neck, he took a breath.  The whole thing gave his head an unfortunate bulbous look.

“Who are you?” Shepard asked.  They had already delayed too long, and the ceased pursuit was itching at her mind.

“I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard,” the man said, the mask comms automatically connecting to her suit’s.  He was standing proud, as if waiting for recognition.

Jane would unpack that later.  “Are you combat capable?”

“It will take more than a paltry beam of light to wound me,” Thor said.

“You don’t mean that your craft survived the Reaper’s energy weapon,” Liara said.

“I was in it for mere heartbeats,” Thor dismissed, as if he hadn’t survived even a glancing blow from a weapon that had taken down cruisers with ease.

“Was your craft of Prothean make?” Liara asked, trying to make sense of things.

“We don’t have time for this,” Jane said, giving Liara a quick apologetic look.  “If we don’t make it to the Council Chambers and stop Saren, everyone on this station will die, and the galaxy will follow.”

“Then I will fight with you,” Thor said.  The solemn declaration was slightly ruined by his red face and burnt beard.

“Stay behind us as we work through the geth,” Jane said, eager to be going.  “You can fight, but you don’t know how my squad fights.”

Thor was shaking his head.  “You strike this villain Saren, I will take the fight to the beast overhead.  They are clearly working together.”

An N7 wasn’t often surprised, but Jane’s thoughts stuttered for a moment.  “You’re a man with an axe.”

“No,” he said, “I am Thor.”  Sparks danced across his shoulders, and his axe hummed as he set it on his shoulder.

“It’s a living starship, here to wipe out sapient life,” Liara said.  “How do you intend to fight it?”

“I’ve killed bigger,” Thor said.

“Really?!”

“Well no, but the theory is the same,” Thor admitted.

Sovereign chose that moment to scream into the void, its bellow heard in their skulls.

Thor whirled to face the Reaper.  “I’ve got your inevitability right here you overgrown metal squid!” he roared back, grabbing at his crotch.  He turned back to them.  “Apologies, but sometimes you need to lower yourself to their level to make yourself understood.”

“Shepard, incoming!” Garrus called down, looking ‘up’ through his scope.

“Time’s up.  We need to move,” Jane said, putting what she had just seen out of her head.  “Follow us or don’t, but if you stay here you’re about to have geth crawling down your throat.”

Thor looked upwards, taking in the shining dots that the Reaper had cast off.  They were rapidly growing closer; geth curled up as they did for orbital insertion.  “Bring down your foe,” he said, raising his axe high.  “I will prevent any interference.”  He shot upwards, as fast as any shuttle, heading straight for the descending geth.

“I, what?” Liara said.

“Deal with flying Norse gods later,” Jane said.  Whatever he was, he was already out of range of their comms, and she could see lightning flashing hundreds of metres overhead.  She detached her rifle from her back and let it unfold, turning back to the path.  “We’ve almost reached Saren.”

X

Thor was reminded of the Battle of New York as he guided his power from geth to geth, turning their controlled descent into tumbling debris, Stormbreaker raised high.  Destroying the troops sent to intercept the Shepard woman was almost an afterthought, his eyes fixed on the ‘Reaper’ ahead.  An appendage was raised towards him, red light gathering at its tip, but this time it would be too slow.  The storm enveloped him as he drew forth every scrap of power he could, and then, impact.

It was strong, stronger than Thanos’ troop transports, and his mighty blow was resisted.  His vision spun, and he found himself in a man shaped crater he had formed in the beast’s metal flesh.  His axe was still in his hand, and he shook his head, casting off the dizziness that came with headbutting the damned thing.

It would take more than that to stop him.  He floated to his feet and Stormbreaker fell, again and again as Thor carved his way deeper into the skin of the living ship, and the beast roared its displeasure.  Sharp phantasmal fingers seemed to drive into his very mind, but he only increased his furious assault, a storm growing around him.  Deeper he cut into the Reaper’s armoured skin, and the bolts that surrounded him left the crater he was digging glowing cherry red.  He began to laugh, his tempo increasing.  He cast off his despair with every strike, shedding years of depressed miasma.  Here was a foe he could unleash himself upon, here was a beast to slay that sagas could be sung about.

His axe smote another mighty blow, but this time the armour yielded, giving way to softer innards rather than deflecting it.  Thor wrenched his weapon free, already pressing forward to wreak havoc on the Reaper’s insides, but it was not to be.  Something hissed and spat, and then an explosion erupted from within.  He was thrown back, away from the beast and into the void.  He would have taken a breath as he tumbled end over end, but the mask he had been given was long reduced to slag.  Red light gathered at the edge of his vision, and he prepared to endure another scorching blow - but the attack was not aimed at him.

The station had begun to open, petal-like, revealing stars and nebula clouds beyond the harsh lights and metal shell.  Through the gaps streamed ships, arcing about to surround the Reaper, glowing projectiles and missiles slicing through space to collide uselessly with their target.  In return, they were swatted contemptuously from the sky with a single stream of red light.  More ships came, filling the sky, but the Reaper was undeterred, each limb it could spare rising to point at a target.  Red light lanced out, and ships burned, no hope of survival for their crews.

Thor gathered himself, preparing to rejoin the battle, but a ship caught his eye as it buzzed past him, slowly only briefly.  It was sleek, black and white, and reminded him of a Midgardian orca on the prowl.  NORMANDY ran down its side, and it dipped its wing as it passed, before shooting towards the Reaper, already loosing missiles of its own.

With such courage on display from those who would surely perish at the slightest of blows, Thor could not shame himself by doing anything less.  Lightning surged, and he shot towards his foe, Stormbreaker raised overhead in both hands.  He gave a soundless roar.

For Asgard.

X

On the bridge of the flagship of the Alliance’s Fifth Fleet, Admiral Steven Hackett leaned forward in his chair, eyes fixed on a display before him.  “Helmsman, am I seeing this correctly?”

“...cyberwarfare suits report no malicious code, sir,” the helmsman answered after a moment.

Hackett took a moment to absorb the answer.  “All ships, concentrate fire away from the anomaly if possible.”  His orders were heard and relayed, fire easing from the side where the blond human was flying towards.  He watched as the man collided with a flash of light, the force of the blow staggering Sovereign.

“Designation, sir?” the targeting officer asked.

“Codename-” he hesitated, but only for a moment, the image of a man covered in lightning and bearing an axe in the void of space seared into his mind.  “-Thor.”

X

When Sovereign finally fell, it was only after it had reaped a bloody harvest from the ships that dared to confront it.  Thousands were dead, and billions of credits were ash, but the Destiny Ascension had survived.  There was some contention as to who deserved credit for the killing blow - was it the Fifth Fleet, who had poured enough munitions into the dreadnought to kill a fleet?  The Normandy, for coring the ship?  Some with the clearance to know argued that it was Shepard, who had caused some sort of blowback when she killed the Saren creature, taking down its shields.

Amongst the Alliance, there was a popular rumour going around, little believed but happily told, that said one of their gods was responsible for the kill.  A poor resolution omni-tool grab, barely 4k, showed a man hurtling through space with an axe, screaming his defiance.  Though popular, and shared amongst many as a meme, there was little doubt that that was all it was.

The AIS worked hard to ensure it.

X

A full cycle after she had been forced to flee her workplace under fire from the geth, Elara Sarsi, junior barista, found herself back at work, scrubbing at scorch marks.  C-Sec had been quick to scour the Presidium of wreckage and tech, quickly restoring the heart of the government to working order.  Elara just wished they’d done a little bit of normal scouring too, as she worked at what she was pretty sure was all that was left of the first geth to try to kill her.  The batteries of her sonic tool were almost dry, again, but at least she didn’t have to resort to soap and sponge.

Her omni-tool chimed lowly, alerting her to a customer entering the open air premise.  She swore internally as she got to her feet; if this was another aide or intern demanding quick service, she was going to bounce them like she’d bounced that geth she swore on the Godd–

It was not another aide or intern.  Whether it was better or worse she wasn’t sure, because even with his long hair cut and his beard trimmed, she couldn’t fail to recognise the one who had saved her life.

“Greetings Elara!” Thor said, stopping before her.  “I have come for coffee, as I promised.”  He almost bounced on his feet, beaming at her.

Elara found herself returning the infectious smile.  “Same as last time?”  He nodded, and she made her way behind the counter to get started on making the best damn cup of coffee the Citadel had ever seen.