Sufficiently Advanced Percussive Maintenance

It was a quiet day on the Presidium, home of the beating heart of galactic politics.  Aircars hummed through the sky, carrying important people to their important jobs doing important things.  So important were these sentients that they didn’t even have time to leave a proper tip, although they did have time to make a complaint about the taste of the coffee, self important little -

“Elara, you’re scowling at the espresso machine again.”

Elara Sarsi, junior barista, looked up at her boss as she was startled from her thoughts.  Her blue crests flushed purple in embarrassment.  “Sorry Liz,” she said.  She refocused on her task, las-cleaning the bench.  The high end cafe she worked in was open air, by the lakes, and being on the Presidium just meant that health inspectors actually did their jobs.

“Still mad about that jumped up intern?” Liz asked, tucking a lock of greying hair behind one ear.  Despite being barely fifty, she often took a motherly approach with the girls who worked for her, but that was humans for you.

“Oooh, don’t get me started,” Elara said.  She pulled the trigger on the las-cleaner harder than necessary, wishing she was burning away at the face of the twit of an intern instead of scouring away bacteria.  “I’ve been brewing coffee and mixing drinks since before he was toilet trained, and he’s going to tell me there’s something wrong with his drink?”

“Don’t sweat it,” Liz said.  “The complaints box gets deleted automatically anyway.  I only put it there so the whiners don’t bother me directly.”

“I’d like to delete him automatically,” Elara muttered to herself.

“More importantly, what’s going on with that nice quarian girl you were telling me about?” Liz asked, placing some delicate human confectionary on display beneath their counter.

Elara smiled.  The best part of working at a ritzy Citadel cafe were the regular lulls where they could gossip.  “Weeellll, about that -”

A resounding crash cut them off.  Metal tables and chairs shattered and splintered as something heavy and asaroid landed in the seating area of the cafe.  Liz and Elara ducked for cover behind the counter, shielding their heads.  Something splashed down into the lake the cafe sat beside, throwing water into the air.

In the quiet that followed, a groan sounded from the crash zone, louder for the sudden stillness.  The human and the asari peered up over the counter cautiously.  None of the nearby buildings were on their lunch hour, so they were almost alone, only a few errand runners having seen whatever it was that just happened.  They rubber-necked from a safe distance, one salarian hiding behind a bush.

In what had been their neatly arranged and aesthetically pleasing seating area, an asaroid figure rolled onto their back, blowing face hair out of their mouth.  Human, then.

“Did that human just jump from an aircar?” Elara asked incredulously.

“We’re too close to the embassies, this is a no fly zone,” Liz said.  She looked upwards, confusion on her face.

Elara glanced at her omni-tool, considering a call to C-Sec, but there was no way they didn’t already know, with how surveilled the Presidium was.

“We should help him, right?” Elara said.

Liz nodded slowly, but before they could do anything, the human leapt to his feet, hair and face hair - beard, it was called a beard - flying wildly.  There was a danger and a power to his movements, as if one of his clumsy swings could do real damage to someone in the wrong place.

“Thanos, show yourself you miserable cur!” the man roared, looking around wildly.  Whatever he had expected to see, he didn’t find, and he slowed, frowning.  “Tony!  Steve?”  He turned to take in his surrounds, until his eyes settled on Elara.

“Meep.”

“You there, blue person, where am I?” the man asked.  He was tall and imposing as some humans were, twice as thick as Elara was at the shoulder.

“Me?” Elara asked, pointing at herself.

“Yes, you.”

“You’re on the Presidium.”

“Ah, of course,” the man said.  His hair was thick and blonde, falling past his shoulders, and he wore what was clearly armour, but it was unlike any human armour she had seen before.  He even wore a red cape.  “The Presidium.  Obviously.  Ah, where is that?”

“..the Citadel?”  Elara tried.  At his blank look, she continued, “in the Widow system.”

“In which Realm does that fall in?” he asked.

“...the Serpent Nebula?”

Several long seconds passed as they stared at each other.

The blond man clicked his fingers suddenly.  “Oh yes, of course, how foolish of me.  Yes, I know the Citadel of the Widow system, in the Serpent Nebula.  Ha.”

There was another long pause.

“Would you like a coffee?” Elara asked.

The man beamed.  “I would love one.”  He approached the counter, striding through the twisted wreckage his arrival had left, taking a seat at one of the stools before it.  It groaned ominously as he sat, but held steady.

Elara rose, inching towards the espresso machine.  When the man seemed content to wait patiently, she got to work, flicking several fragments of metal off her workspace.

Liz had been more cautious, or perhaps smarter, and had ducked out of sight the moment the stranger had started shouting.  She rose now, drawing the man’s attention to herself.

“A human, how wonderful,” the man said.  He leaned in, speaking in what he seemed to think a whisper.  “Tell me, how far are we from Earth?”

“A bit over a week, if you fly commercial,” Liz answered automatically.

“Hmm,” the man said, brows drawing together in a thunderous frown.  One hand drummed a beat on the counter.

Elara suddenly hoped that he didn’t think poorly of her brewing skills. “All done,” she said.  “Your coffee, uh…”

“Thor,” he said, frown disappearing as he accepted the hot drink.  He sipped, letting out a happy sigh.

Elara looked him over, starting to actually see him now that she was calming.  He was singed and battered, cuts and bruises on his face and gouges in his armour, more than could be explained by his sudden intrusion into the cafe.

“Like the god,” Liz said.

“Yes, you’ve heard of me then?” Thor asked, expression brightening.

“Yeeesss,” Liz said, unwilling to argue the point, given the circumstances.

Thor leaned in further, a question forming on his lips.  Whatever it was, it was cut off by a sudden  klaxon, rising and falling in pitch.

“That’s the seek shelter alarm,” Elara said slowly.  She hadn’t heard it in decades, and never outside a safety video her father has insisted she take.

“For the district?” Liz asked, glancing at Thor.

“No,” Elara said.  “For the Presidium.”

In the distance, something exploded.

“We need - we need to get to an evac shelter,” Liz said, staring down the Presidium ring.  She could see smoke rising.  There was another explosion, closer this time.  The klaxons blared.

“I’ll lock up,” Elara said distantly.  It didn’t feel real.  This wasn’t just the Citadel, this was the Presidium.  Things like this didn’t happen here.

“Forget that, we need to go,” Liz said, tugging on her arm.

A loud slurp reminded them of their ‘customer’.  “A most excellent beverage,” Thor said.  He placed it delicately on the counter.  “I would ask for another, but you seem busy.”

Elara stared at the bizarre figure.  The Presidium was under attack, and he was smiling, humming to himself.  Jubilant, even.  “Are you part of this?”

“Not yet,” he said.  “You should probably take cover, you don’t have time to get to any shelter.”

“What?”

“Elara, come on -”

There was a thunk of metal on metal, and a grenade rolled across the floor.  It beeped rapidly, and the two baristas stared at it dumbly.

“No, none of that,” Thor said.  He stooped down to pick it up and clasped it tightly between his hands.  There was a final shrill beep, and Elara and Liz doved to the ground, hands over their heads.

The grenade exploded with a whump...but that was all.

Disbelievingly, the two slowly looked up.

“Ouch, ouch,” Thor said.  He was shaking his hands out, as if he’d picked up a too hot mug.  He blew on them, shrapnel falling to the floor.  “Don’t you just hate it when it gets you somewhere sensitive?  You can never pick things up, or sit down easily.”

The two baristas stared wordlessly.

“Now, who threw that I wonder…” Thor said, turning a stern gaze on his surroundings.

The clank of heavy metal boots warned of someone approaching down the walkway that ran past the cafe.  From behind a tasteful hedgerow, there emerged a biped of steel and cable, a single glowing light in place of its ‘face’.  It took in the three sentients in the cafe and gave out an incomprehensibly garbled noise.

“But geth don’t leave the Veil,” Elara said to herself, watching as the geth raised the bulky rifle it held.  Her father had insisted she pass a a stupid threat assessment test when she left Thessia, but the geth in it hadn’t seemed so large.  As the rifle began to glow, the test suddenly seemed less stupid.

Metal squealed as it was crumpled and crushed, Thor suddenly standing before the geth with one hand on its weapon.  Elara watched in disbelief as the geth dropped the sparking rifle, reaching out to grapple the human, but it was met in turn.  It was seized by the arm and leg, and Thor gave a contemptuous grunt as he tore it in half.

The geth screeched as it was dismembered, metallic voice fading as it died.

“You - what -” Liz said.

“This is a terror attack,” Thor said, turning back to them, cape billowing behind him.  “Civilians are being targeted, and you must take shelter.  Do you have somewhere to hide?”

“There’s the public bunker, but -” Elara said, looking down the Presidium ring.  Smoke was rising everywhere she could see, and an office building downspin was aflame.  She could make out geth drones pursuing aircars, shooting them from the sky.

“It will be safer to shelter in place,” Thor said.  “Stay hidden, and -”

Elara wasn’t listening, distracted by the second, larger geth that had just appeared behind their strange protector.  She screamed in wordless fright, reaching out with her biotics.  A corona of blue slammed the geth into the ground, bouncing it off the floor to float in place.

It didn’t take long for the thing to reassess its new position.  One arm was mangled, but the other could still aim its weapon, or at least it could until Thor backhanded it, crushing its torso and sending it flying off into the distance.

“Well struck!” Thor said, turning back.

Elara gave him a slightly manic grin in answer.

“We can’t stay here,” Liz said.  “We’ll be found and killed, like everyone on Eden Prime.  They can find you.”

Thor nodded.  “I will escort you to safety,” he said.  “Do you know the way?”

“Yes,” Elara said.  “It’s not far.”

“Then let us boogie,” Thor said gravely.

Boogie they did, Liz fighting slightly hysterical giggles as they guided their protector down the deserted walkways and thoroughfares.  A trio of drones swooped down on them, only to be zapped by some sort of lightning projector hidden in Thor’s armour.

Elara thought that the man had to be a Spectre, what with his strange power armour and unusual style.  But no, wasn’t the only human Spectre a woman?

“Where are all the people?” Thor asked as they walked.

“Underneath us,” Elara said.  “All the buildings have concealed paths to the evacuation bunkers in case of emergency.”  She stepped quickly, feeling like she had a target on her back.

As they neared the bunker, they began to hear gun and plasma fire, along with pained shouts and garbled synthetic screeching.  As Elara peered around the corner of the final turn, she could see the entrance to the bunker - as well as the vicious battle being fought in it.

For whatever reason, the heavy doors were only half closed, leaving an opening wide enough for two krogan to walk through shoulder to shoulder.  From within, half a C-Sec squad were fighting a desperate holding action against a slowly advancing swarm of geth, the other half dead on the ground before it.  She saw an enormous red geth crush the chest of a turian as it walked over their corpse.

A hand clasped Elara’s shoulder, and Thor stepped past her.  “What are you doing?” she hissed.  “There’s got to be thirty geth there!”

“Fear not,” Thor said, a cocky lilt to his head.  “The Mightiest Avenger is here.”

Elara hunkered down around the corner, Liz at her back, and they watched as Thor strolled down the path to the bunker.  The geth were quick to notice him, one of the platforms that was jumping around like a pyjak on speedstims warbling out a warning.  Two of the geth turned to face him, clearly expecting that was all they would need.

Thor reached for the geth, and lightning surged.  Both were caught within it, and pulled towards him.  Thunder boomed as they were met with crushing blows and reduced to sparking wrecks, Thor still strolling forwards.

Half of the geth turned as one and advanced, plasma rifles glowing before they spat in a blur.  Again lightning surged, this time arcing around Thor like a shield, and the projectiles fell apart or curved around him harmlessly.  Grenades followed, and these were kicked or backhanded off to the sides where they exploded.  Then Thor was amongst the synthetics, tearing off limbs and beating geth into the deck with them.

The officers defending the civilians saw their saviour, and wasted no time in pressing their advantage.  Assault rifles and pistols barked, taking down a few geth as yet more turned to face the newcomer.  The largest, the red one, charged forward to meet Thor’s stroll.  It was dealt a mighty blow that caved in its chest, staggering down to one knee.  It tried to raise its weapon, only for a second blow to crush its head, the red light of its face too tempting a target.

“Get help, your friend, he’s wounded!” Thor shouted, and Elara thought he had lost his mind as he started to support the red geth like he would an injured comrade.  “Get help!”

As more geth fell, their responses grew sluggish, slower to adapt to new circumstances.  They almost seemed to pause at this strange behaviour, their plasma fire faltering for a split second.

“Get help!” Thor cried one last time, laughing now, before throwing the geth with ease, knocking down a cluster of foes.  Lightning arced out, and they were still.

The last of the geth died quickly, not even attempting to turn back to the bunker as they were riddled with bullets, their shields shorted out by the lightning that killed their fellows.  The silence was sudden and loud, broken only by distant explosions.

Thor turned back to where Elara and Liz were hidden, beaming.  “It is all safe now, little ones!  The way is clear!”

“Little one?!” Elara shouted back.  “I am one hundred and seventy years old, don’t you ‘little one’ me!”

“Ah, how cute.  You must be looking forward to your third century!” Thor said.

Elara gaped at him.

Cautiously, one of the surviving C-Sec officers emerged from the bunker, a salarian.  Their pistol swept over the mangled geth, but they seemed at a loss.

“Hello there,” Thor said.  “Do you have room in there for two more?”

“He’s not human,” Liz muttered as they hurried to catch up.

As they threaded through the wreckage left in his wake, Elara couldn’t help but agree.  Reaching the safety of the bunker however, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.