Drowning: A Mass Effect Story
By Who Is Caligula (2008)
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Vorus was not impressed by the planet's vast, tropical oceans. He did not care for open spaces devoid of boundaries or walls or people. He did not relish the thought of basking in the golden sunlight. The metallic surface of his skin was not quite as impenetrable as it looked, but it afforded him natural protection from the solar radiation that would no doubt plague any pale little human that dared to set foot here without a proper environmental suit. The humans were pretty quick to adapt to new technologies, but that speed was what bothered him. They were clumsy and recklessly impatient, like salarian juveniles on cheap stimulants.
Humans.
Not the worst species in the galaxy, but far from his favorite. It seemed they were always trying to set up shop on new worlds before conducting proper investigations of the planet's geological and atmospheric compatibility. He remembered seeing a newsvid about human agricultural traditions, once. Hundreds of lives lost because some colony's atmospheric processing contrivances couldn't hold up to the weather, and they dismissed the catastrophe as "a preventable tragedy caused by corporate carelessness".
Stupid.
Always trying to blame each other, never taking responsibility for their own actions.
"Hey, Vorus! I think we got something!" came the mindless chirp of his only human crewmember. Vorus could not question the peppy human's skill as a navigator, but he would want to get him replaced before the next harvest. Hopefully with a fellow turian.
"What is it now?" he grumbled, boots plodding through the soft soil toward his navigator.
"Just across from us. See that island, on the other side of the water?"
Vorus could easily see the tiny land mass that divided the endless sky from the endless ocean. He'd seen it several hours earlier, in fact. He remained unimpressed.
"What about it?" he demanded.
"There's a structure somewhere down there. Scanners picked it up easily enough. It's huge, like a fortress or something".
"Fortress", the turian repeated. He was not eager to invade someone else's territory, particularly if that someone had gone through the trouble of fortifying a defensive structure in the middle of an uncharted planet. This was not exactly a Citadel-friendly system, but it was still safer than the Terminus systems. Either the owners of this fortress had yet to introduce themselves to the galaxy, or they were hiding something.
"Can you swim?"
Vorus turned and stared at his human navigator for a full three seconds before responding.
"Can you?" Vorus asked, his tone dropping slightly.
"Yeah. My older brother was a pretty wild outdoorsman. One time-"
"I don't need to hear your family history, sir".
"Sir? Why do you even call me that, don't you know my name?"
"No. And I don't want to. Get back to the ship, and we'll have a look at this 'fortress' from a safe distance".
The human made a strange clicking noise with his tongue, and obeyed without further question. Vorus was glad. After the First Contact War, some humans thought themselves to be extremely powerful, and their egos swelled to absurdity. Human protestors back on Hegia had been a constant headache for Vorus. One pesky human was more than enough to keep him on edge.
The Tiber was technically a human vessel, but one would never know it once they set foot inside. The human engineers had been supposedly "inspired" by turian architects, so Vorus felt right at home. In fact, he wasn't ashamed to consider the Tiber his home away from home. Four days after debarking, one guest was already close to outstaying his welcome.
"Hey, there's an island off the peninsula up ahead, did you see it?"
"I know there is an island, Mister Whitefield", came the speedy retort of Vorus's favorite crewmate. "I have been the captain's pilot for over a year, and I've spent most of my life in space. I know how to read the displays and interpret all the pretty lights you see before you". Salarians were known for their intelligence more than their manners, and that was something Vorus could truly appreciate.
"Even you should have been capable of acquiring some vague concept of the planet's most basic geographic features in the moments it took us to land on this watery world. In fact, if you had bothered to perform your assigned duties with any measure of-"
"Hey, relax. I was just-"
"No, Mister Whitefield. Relaxing is something I do when I am not on duty. As I recall, your duty as the navigator of this vessel is to-"
"Fine, okay! I get it. Jeez".
The human stormed out of the cockpit like a temperamental child. The salarian pursed his lips and returned his attention to the orange lights that flickered under his swift hands. Vorus knew that his navigator was at least three decades old. This amount of time would have been more than sufficient, by salarian standards, for an individual to achieve some measure of wisdom and a well-developed sense of purpose. Then again, salarians were lucky to make it into their fourth decade.
Agitated salarians were often amusing, but seeing his pilot get flustered over the human was enough to bring a smirk even to Vorus's hardened features.
"Please, tell me you intend to find a decent navigator as soon as possible".
"You have my word", the turian captain gave his succinct promise. "You were saying?"
"Good. Well-" the salarian inhaled, a sharp sound that appropriately reminded Vorus of an unfurling pistol before an extensive firefight. "This peninsula is an extension of the planet's largest continent, and most of the surface is dotted with volcanic islands. Your 'fortress island' is relatively small, but there is plenty of room to land the Tiber along the beach if you want to take your chances. Personally, I would suggest sending an automated drone to investigate. If someone shoots it down, we'll have to assume the inhabitants desire privacy and just make a hasty retreat. That is, if they happen to spot our vessel from across the water".
"And if they do?"
"The Tiber is not within ideal firing range" Kylon shook his head, dismissively. "That's why I chose the peninsula as a safe landing zone. Even if they knew we were here and wanted to harm us, I can't think ofany reason they would have allowed us to sit here, untroubled, for the past few hours."
Vorus considered his pilot's crystalline logic as he stared out the port window. The great blue expanse appeared to be infinite, a fathomless abyss from every direction. Some species liked the bright, clear waters for vacationing and tourist resorts. Kylon had explained to him that prettier oceans were usually devoid of substantial biomass. Lush ecosystems tended thrive in darker, uglier bodies of water. Vorus was unsurprised, as the apparent vacancy of any uncharted world had always been disquieting for him.
Still, this fortress-like structure did pique his interest.
"Radio silence?"
"Quieter than my first night of mating, Captain. Small energy readings, but nothing big enough to be analyzed. Not at this range, anyway".
Kylon rarely bothered to intentionally deceive his captain. The turian was highly intelligent, but his mind could never hope to match the speed of a salarian's. That is why Kylon was perfectly comfortable activating the drone, and proceeding to bombard it with an extensive list of coordinates that covered what he suspected would be the biggest points of interest on the mysterious island. All the necessary calculations had been performed at a relaxed pace, during the bland insults he spat at the Tiber's incompetent navigator.
"Can the drone be controlled manually, from the Tiber?"
"Afraid not", the pilot replied. He was already capable of anticipating his captain's official orders; he only allowed the fully-loaded drone to idle quietly, however. It was not until Captain Vorus gave the official dispatch order that Kylon sent the floating bugger on its way. He could have given the drone a head start while the captain stared ponderously out into the oceans, but the salarian's respect for his captain was great enough to stop him from indulging the impulse to initiate a premature launch.
"Do it", the captain ordered. Kylon waited a full four seconds before speaking for dramatic effect.
"Drone is away. Top speed, and it should be hitting the first waypoint in just a few minutes", the salarian tried to keep his sentences as concise as he could manage, knowing that his captain preferred efficiency over meticulous details. He stood from his seat, and stretched the aching muscles of his arched back. Dramatic displays of exhaustion were crucial, in his experience, in order to appease stern taskmasters. Kylon estimated that he had enough energy to run several laps around the exterior of the Tiber before feeling even slightly winded. He was not in the mood for a jog, however.
"Hopefully these things will be worth the price we paid for them".
"They wereinexpensive models, Vorus. You told me to purchase the best I could find within the limitations of the budget, and that's exactly what I did".
The turian sighed, smoothing the creases in his antiquated uniform as he passed through the hall leading to the Tiber's plush operational center. The hall was only a few meters long, and although its concave walls offered plenty of elbow room, Kylon elected to follow his captain at a sluggish pace like some deformed subordinate.
"I assume they have some form of kinetic barriers?"
Kylon suppressed a chuckle in response to his captain's blatant ignorance of his own vessel's technological array.
"Yes, Captain. Financial resources restricted us from acquiring military-grade drones, of course. Larger battery packs allow the shields to maintain steady strength under substantial atmospheric stresses. Blizzards, electrical storms, that sort of thing. If someone really wanted to shoot it down with a micro-mass accelerator firearm of some kind, I doubt the probe could withstand more than a few rounds, or in the case of-"
"Alright, Kylon. A simple 'yes' will do", his captain's interruption had taken him by surprise. The captain was normally very curt. Kylon decided that the planet's relentless sunlight, coupled with the irritating behavior of the new navigator, befouled his captain's mood. The salarian was untroubled, though. He dwelled on potential meal options as he trotted after Vorus, muting his internal monologue only once the impressive central display flickered to life in response to the captain's deliberate keystrokes.
"Signal delay is negligible. Input channel two", the hungry salarian offered his assistance with forced brevity. The turian fumbled at the control panel for several long seconds before speaking.
"Two. Got it. Controls won't disrupt the recording sequence, right?"
"Nope. I'm going to grab a snack, Vorus. Want anything?"
"I'm fine, thanks", Vorus waved a clawed hand at his pilot, his attention firmly planted within the view screen's control settings and display menus. Kylon expected the captain would be perfectly capable of managing the software on his own, but he left his personal comm active in the event that his expertise should be required.
Not that he needed to, really. Such a compact ship kept a majority of the crewmembers within earshot of each other. The Tiber was a much smaller vessel than any Kylon had piloted in previous years. He was hopeful the sudden shift in vehicular design would provide adequate challenge or at least maintain his interest for the duration of his service under Captain Vorus. Instead, he'd been extremely disappointed by the simplicity of the Tiber's architecture. In virtually every function, Kylon could not escape the feeling of having his hand held by some unseen entity that sought to mock his tremendous talents. The disgruntled salarian had mastered virtually every facet of the ship within the first few days of his service.
Lavish furnishing and pristine surfaces adorned the Tiber's interior, a laughable surprise for those who dared to climb the foreboding entry ramp. Despite being in fairly good condition, the streamlined patterns running across the outer hull lent the Tiber a strange, exotic appearance. When Kylon had first laid eyes upon it, he thought he was looking upon some ancient Prothean artifact. The Protheans were known for their mysterious technologies, and even a single tiny relic was capable of revolutionizing the standard of living for all creatures living both within and beyond Citadel space.
Technological features of the Tiber were not quite so revolutionary. The kitchen pantry, however, was phenomenal.
The scent of fermented egg paste struck the salarian's olfactory receptors like a gong on a dinner bell. Although tempting for any salarian, Kylon savored the aroma of a freshly torn packet like some snobbish diner for nearly five whole seconds. It was too pungent to be eaten alone, but Kylon enjoyed its traditional function as a salty condiment to set upon plainer foods. He rummaged through the cabinets, looking for something chewy and rich for the sharp paste to cut through. Contrast was a beautiful thing.
Benefits of a small vessel, Kylon noted to himself as he ripped open a carton of round, semisoft pastry rings. He never had an opportunity to experiment with exotic human cuisine during the course of his previous employment. Luxurious budgetary surplus on the Tiber was enough to satisfy even his discriminating palette.
Kylon's brain never rested, but he enjoyed his lunch at a leisurely pace.