Zana Squad: Nos Morituri

Zana Squad: Nos Morituri is a Mass Effect fan-fiction story written by Gnostic. Taking place prior to the final battle in Mass Effect 3, it tells the story of Zana Squad's struggle to stay sane as they head towards Earth to join the battle for London.

Nos Morituri
Nadia was bleeding to death; a Brute had ripped off her arm.

Beth was impaled on the steering wheel of the Arine.

Patricia had been crushed alive inside her own SOMA.

Julia was bleeding from her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, the victim of a Banshee.

Justine had been torn apart by a Cannibal's bullets.

Katie and Paul were choking to death, cornered by a Smoker in the hold.

Siani was being torn limb from limb by Husks, their forms beefed up by the Marauder that now stood over her.

Emmanuelle ran towards her, trying to rescue her, not even caring that the Marauder was aiming its gun at her and opening fire...

"AUGH!" Captain Emmanuelle Sharon woke in a panic, her eyes frantically searching the darkness, sweat clinging to her skin, her breath coming in gulps. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was in bed.

She was jolted by a hand crawling up her waist. "Are you alright, love?" came a soft, sleepy voice. Siani T'Nair coiled herself around Sharon.

Sharon took another breath. Get a grip, idiot, she cursed herself. "I'm fine," she murmured, "It was just a bad-"

The comm unit pinged. "Captain?" This was Bethany Truman, the helmswoman. Sharon cursed herself again. Siani was a fiercely protective mate, and had thus installed vital-sign monitoring devices into their bed which fed data to the helm. If Sharon's vitals suddenly deviated from the norm, Beth was supposed to call in and check.

"Everything's fine, Beth," she said, through gritted teeth. "It was just a bad dream."

"Okay..."

Sharon picked up on the cue. "Was there something else?"

"Well, you know Justine's on prisoner detail tonight. Nadia was supposed to relieve her at 2300, but I think Nadia overslept again, so Justine's been down there... with Maria de Wilden... for hours..."

Oh, fuck. Sharon threw on some clothes and bolted down to the ship's makeshift brig.

-

"Just give in, little becky. Come on, just open the cell..." The voice purred incessantly.

"Shutupshutupshutupshutup..." Justine Marsters looked and felt like hell.