The Marker
Two days prior to events on the USG Ishimura:
"This is quite remarkable, I mean, the discovery of a new race will surely have a great effect on Citadel Space, but I'm afraid I don't really understand...what this has to do with me?" the young asari spoke, her eyes filled with confusion.
It had been a typical day at the dig-site for Liara T'Soni. They had found what they thought were the ruins of prothean living quarters, and although they had only partially completed excavation, already their finds were amazing. They had found several intact examples of prothean writing and the enigmatic data discs that occasionally revealed so much about their history and culture.
Even though she was dirty and worn out, the scale of the ruins and the necessity of speed drove her on forward. Several mining companies had already received permits to conduct mineral surveys on the planet, and they were already stealing priceless prothean artifacts, destroying precious history as they plundered forgotten cities and ancient burial grounds. It made her blood boil. The protheans would be disgusted if they could see it, and it was eve more galling since it was only due the their greatest creations, the mass relays, that they were here at all.
The asari before her just smiled. She was in the matriarch stage, her ageless face giving her a look of bemusement. "I realize this is not strictly in your area of expertise, but we believe having someone with extensive knowledge of the protheans will be a great asset," she complimented her.
Liara blushed in embarrassment, knowing that she must look a silly child to this woman hundreds of years her senior. "Matriarch Alsita, I would hardly call my knowledge of the subject extensive. I know there must be researchers with more experience than I".
"You do yourself too little credit, doctor. You are one of Serrice University's rising stars. Why else would they be funding your expedition," she smiled. "Dr. Aenya Par has insisted that we enlist you in this little excursion".
"Dr. Parr, she knows about me?" Liara asked, perking up a little.
"Apparently she is extremely impressed with your research. She raved about your latest article to me".
"I'm flattered. To be recognized by one so distinguished..." she trailed off.
"Well, now that I've piqued your interest, I would like to show you something else," she said mysteriously, calling up something on her omnitool. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"
Liara looked at the holograph, a pointed helix colored a dull red slowly rotating. As she watched, it glowed a deep red before returning to its inert state. "We believe it is some type of beacon. Obviously it does not resemble any prothean artifact found before, but there are several indications that it might be prothean in origin".
"Yes, it does not seem to match typical prothean aesthetics," Liara examined the image further. "Is this what you want me to study?"
"In fact, we do not have this object in our possession. We intercepted a transmission from the new race I mentioned earlier in our conversation. Most of it was in their unintelligible language, but there was also several lines composed in prothean script and this image," the matriarch explained. "This is what we will be exploring".
She brought up another hologram, one of a ship of a type she had never seen before. "This derelict ship is in orbit around the planet where the transmission originated. STG prowlers have confirmed that there are living beings aboard, but it appears damaged. Since we began observing it, there have been no arrivals or departures and no messages sent out or received. Our mission is first contact".
"My shuttle leaves immediately for our research ship, the Explorer," the matriarch continued. "I need your answer".
Liara hesitated for a moment, but she already knew what she was going to do. She hoped she was not getting in over her head. "Yes".
Alsita's lips curled into a thin smile. "Welcome aboard, Dr. T'Soni".
The Derelict - In orbit above an unknown world:
Their small shuttle set down in the unknown ship's hangar bay, the lights on the transport the only thing illuminating the cavernous space. Without gravity flotsam from the damaged ship and any cargo that was not tied down floated around, casting eerie shadows as the transport landed.
"Scorch marks. Weapon scarring. Signs of battle," one of the STG operatives, Mordin, commented, his eyes scanning the hangar as the floodlights panned over the area.
"Small arms fire...think they were boarded? Pirates maybe?" the specter Saren growled.
"To early to conclude anything. More information needed. Suggest caution though," Mordin answered.
"We detected life signs on the ship, so someone must have survived. Maybe we can help them," Liara spoke softy.
"Or maybe the group that attacked this ship is hanging around," Saren said darkly. "The main hangar bay seemed to have suffered significant damage and was sealed. A ship could be concealed there".
"Unlikely. No ship detected in vicinity. Main hangar too damaged to hold intact ship," Mordin waved off his concern.
"Still, whoever owns this ship was recently attacked. They may shoot first and ask questions later," the team leader, Aenya, cautioned.
"If they prove hostile, we eliminate them," Saren said matter of factly.
Liara was incensed at his callous attitude. She glared at him and said, "Kill members of a new species in a first contact scenario? The Council would never approve something like that!"
"Council approval previously granted," Mordin corrected her. "Repeat of Yahg incident discouraged".
"Killing them could prove problematic in long run if their government uncovers our involvement," Mordin's fellow STG operative Virlen commented.
"Risk minimal. Will destroy evidence of presence if necessary," Mordin reassured him.
"Our primary objective is to recover samples of the alien's technology. First contact is a secondary objective," Saren said brusquely, finishing what the two salarians had been reluctant to say.
"I thought this was a peaceful, scientific mission, not to loot the ship like common brigands," Liara seethed. "What if they try to call for help while we're here playing the part of pirates?"
"We are monitoring outgoing communications. We will block any message intended for outside the system," Virlen explained. "Precautionary measure".
Liara looked incensed but she controlled herself, only letting a cold, "I see" escape her lips.
"The area looks clear," Saren's partner, Nihlus said as he checked the hangar with his flashlight equipped assault rifle. "The power may be down throughout the ship, so helmets on, lights out. Everyone got a weapon?"
There were murmurs of assent throughout the group. They were all itching to go exploring and see what this new species was like. Liara was feeling a little anxious and bewildered. She had never handled a weapon, and the pistol felt foreign in her hand. She had expected when she received her doctorate to be touring ruins of long dead civilizations, not one that was very much alive.
"Nervous?" Aenya questioned, giving Liara a reassuring smile.
"I admit that I am a little out of my element," she conceded, her gaze lowering to the ground.
"I think we all are. An impromptu first contact scenario is something no one can be prepared for," the older asari sighed. "We'll just have to muddle through".
"Goddess give me strength," Liara spoke under her breath.
"Pilots stay with the shuttle. Under no circumstances are you to leave the craft. We don't know what we're dealing with here, and we may need extraction at any time," Saren barked.
"Got it," the two asari responded in stereo.
"Move out. I'll take point. Nihlus, take the rear," Saren ordered. "Operative Solus, you and your partner protect the scientists".
Mordin's eyes narrowed at the presumptuousness of the specter, but he did not argue.
"What about me?" their last member spoke.
Saren turned to him having obviously forgotten about their engineer. "You, quarian, should be ready to evaluate any tech we come across. I am sure you realize, however, that if you attempt to record or misappropriate anything, it will be a direct violation of a Council directive. I will then be forced to take measures to rectify such a violation," he threatened.
His voice was filled with such contempt that Liara was shocked. She knew that quarians were widely disliked though there were few quarians on Thessia, but such overt racism made her uncomfortable.
"Tavil'Kala nar Qwib-Qwib," the quarian spoke quietly.
"What?" Saren sneered.
"My name, Tavil'Kala nar Qwib-Qwib," he spoke up, more defiantly this time.
"I don't recall asking for your name, quarian," he spat with emphasis on the last word. "Fall in line or we'll see how well you breathe in a vacuum without that mask".
"Threats against team members unhelpful. Focus on mission," Mordin stepped between the two. The smaller salarian operative seemed unintimidated by the turian's anger, his large, black eyes never leaving Saren's narrowed, blue ones.
"I remind you that this is a Council mission, operative. STG involvement was only agreed to in an advisory role, not command," Saren said slowly, his voice laced with poison.
"That is exactly what he is doing, advising," Virlen pointed out in a wry tone. "Listen and you might learn something, specter".
"Saren, there will be plenty of unknowns to fight. We don't need a fight amongst ourselves as well," Nihlus spoke up. "Come on, we have a job to do".
"I am aware, Nihlus," he snapped at his fellow turian before motioning to the group. "With me".
Liara fell in line with the others, shaking her head at the posturing of these soldier types. She turned to Tavil'Kala, hoping to make the engineer feel at least a little welcome. "Uh, hello," she said awkwardly, cringing at the way she sounded. "I'm Liara T'Soni. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance". She held out her hand for him to take, but he just looked at it with those glowing, silver eyes.
After a few painful moments, she lowered her hand, feeling completely embarrassed. The feeling was only made worse a second later when the quarian growled, "Okay, you've done your good deed for the day, T'Soni, so now you can go back to ignoring me".
She shrank back, muttering softly, "I just didn't want you to feel alone. I thought you could use a friend".
He let out a bark of laughter at that as Liara's face turned purple from embarrassment. "Look, T'Soni. I just hope to make enough on this mission to buy a ship, finish my pilgrimage, and get back to the fleet. I didn't tag along for the wealth of scientific knowledge the Citadel races stand to gain. You don't have to force yourself to talk to the vagrant. You leave me alone, I leave you alone, everyone is happy," he said brusquely.
Liara did not answer, instead turning away and pretending the conversation never happened. It was easier that way, she concluded. When she was younger, she often found it difficult to relate to her peers. While acquaintances had gone off to have adventures with mercenary groups or spend a few centuries flitting from one bar to another in a haze of sex, drugs, and music, she had her heart set on studying ancient civilizations. That was her idea of a thrill, discovering something new about races long dead. They had so much to teach them. She supposed it made her strange in a way. "Like a 90 so year old matron," she smiled at the thought.
"Don't let him bother you," Aenya interrupted her daydreaming before whispering. "Quarians are always a little bitter".
"Perhaps with good reason," she thought aloud, blushing as she heard the words leave her mouth.
"Maybe," the older asari said, her eyes flicking to the shrouded quarian, "but it's a situation of their own making".
Liara just nodded, not willing to argue the point any further and risk alienating the person who recommended her for the mission. "It's impressive that one so young has already been published. Your work on prothean iconography has brought a new perspective to the field," Aenya shifted topics.
"Oh, uh...I'm happy you read it. I didn't think you would read such an obscure periodical," Liara responded modestly.
"I keep apprised into new developments in prothean research. It is not my field, but it is something I have an interest in," she said with a smile.
"That's surprising. Anthropologists are usually more interested in extant cultures rather than dead ones, especially one so distinguished as yourself, doctor," Liara complemented her.
"Flattery," Aenya chuckled.
"It's not flattery," Liara said anxiously. "I always admired your work. I took your class on multispecies societies at Serrice specifically because of that".
"Oh, you took that class? I apologize if I don't remember you. I've taught so many students over the years..."
"There were a few hundred students in the class. I could hardly expect you to remember everyone's name," Liara placated her.
"Well I hope to get to know you better this time, Liara. Please call me Aenya, there is no need for formalities among colleagues, right?"
"Of course," she nodded. Things were looking up already.
They reached the airlock, and Saren fiddled with the controls. Apparently it was not difficult to understand, as the outer door retracted into the wall with a hiss of hydraulics. They all stepped inside as the door closed behind them, the hiss of air filling the room soon followed by condensation forming on their visors. The ship's atmosphere seemed unusually humid. Maybe the owners were native to a tropical world and required a moister environment, Liara thought. The possibilities were endless.
"Keep the chatter to a minimum once we get inside," Saren ordered. "We don't want to give whatever's in there more warning than necessary".
The inner seal detached and the airlock groaned as it opened to the interior of the vessel. The corridor was gloomy, the only light coming from a series of flashing red emergency lights and dim fluorescent bulbs. It was very different from asari ships, Liara concluded, the dark hallway completely open to the guts of the ship, pipes and ductwork covered only by flimsy grates. It was quite unlike the sleek white, purple and blue designs she was used to.
"Stark, utilitarian. Mining ship most likely," Mordin concluded as his eyes flicked around.
"Would explain the huge hole in the planet," Nihlus spoke quietly. "Maybe that wasn't caused by a weapon".
"No obvious weapon emplacements. Design not conducive to combat. Not warship".
"Any ship that can rip a chunk out of a planet concerns me, warship or not," Saren growled.
"Quarian ships break up large asteroids for eezo on occasion," Tavil informed them. "The process probably isn't that different...just on a larger scale".
"I thought I said no unnecessary chatter!" Saren hissed under his breath.
Lira heard a sound of disgust filter through Tavil's mask, but he did not say any more. She felt it was extremely unfair, as Saren did not seem to have a problem with Mordin or Nihlus speaking.
"The flashing lights...an alarm, maybe?" Virlen murmured.
"Set off by some kind of emergency. Enemy attack most likely given the weapons scarring," the turian specter added.
Liara examined the occasional sign that displayed alien writing, wondering what being conveyed. Sometimes a simple stick figure accompanied the writing, performing some simplistic task that was most likely the subject matter of the message. She saw Aenya recording the signs with her omnitool for later study and attempts at deciphering the language. If they could make peaceful contact with this new race, they would not have to undergo the arduous task of translating with the option of a mind-meld far simpler.
Even after one thousand years of research, the secrets of the prothean language had not been fully unlocked. Trying to decipher meaning from unfamiliar symbols was difficult when there was hardly anything to go off of. Only by meeting this new people could they gain greater understanding, and judging by the scale of their engineering, they had much to teach them.
They made their way through a series of corridors, one hardly distinguishable from the next save for exposed circuitry hanging from the ceiling in some spots. Some vents had been forced open with blackened and melted steel surrounding the gaps in the ducts. Saren's frown grew deeper as he examined the damage while the salarian STG operatives spoke in hushed tones to each other.
"Something was moving through these vents," Nihlus spoke what was on everyone's mind. He reached down, running one talon on the grated floor. "Look, blood".
There was indeed a red stain on his claw, and Mordin ran an omnitool over the sample. "Iron-based, vertebrate confirmed, possibly mammalian," he concluded.
"Some of them must have been hiding in the air vents, maybe attempting to escape our presumed invaders," Virlen said. Liara noticed he had holstered his pistol and switched to an assault rifle.
"Clever...but futile it appears," Saren said in his usual dismissive way.
"Maybe not. No sign of bodies. Whoever was in those vents might be injured, but there's a chance they survived," Virlen countered.
"All the more reason to be cautious then. An cornered and injured animal is far more dangerous than usual," Nihlus said as he hoisted himself up to check the duct with a flashlight.
"We are not dealing with animals. These are sentient beings," Aenya corrected him, looking a little miffed at his description.
"Even more dangerous then," Saren said dryly, earning a withering look from the expedition's leader.
Liara looked around, reaching down for the grate that once covered the vent opening. The metal bars were twisted and melted, but some of them were snapped and bent outwards. "Virlen, is it common for weapons to cause this much damage?" she asked.
He looked at the grate and shrugged, saying "We don't know what kind of guns they're using and what projectile they fire. The metal's brittle though, so it must have been superheated. But even with high-temperature rounds, this damage is a little much. They must have really wanted to kill whoever was in that vent".
"Firing indiscriminately. Wildly. Lack of restraint perhaps. Fear also possible," Mordin spoke, one hand at his mouth as he examined the damage.
"Fear, Doctor Solus?" a confused Aenya questioned. "Why would the ship's attackers be afraid?"
"Bars broken and bent outwards. Metal too hot on grate to rip off. Therefore, pushed from inside," Mordin reasoned.
"An interesting theory, but speculating is a waste of time," Saren snapped. "Explorer, any activity to note?"
"Negative, specter. No incursions into the system. No indication the derelict ship has even noticed your presence. Minimal power fluctuations detected, but nothing that has not already been observed".
"And sensors show minimal movement of survivors and none in our vicinity," Saren finished for the communications officer. "I believe you can put aside your concerns for the moment. Whatever did this is long gone".
Liara was not so sure. It did not make any sense that pirates would attack this ship and leave without killing the crew and without even attempting to commandeer the vessel. Just one more mystery to solve, she supposed. She sighed and looked one more time into the darkness of the vent. Just as she looked away, she swore she saw eyes staring back at her. Doing a double take, she looked back, seeing nothing. She shivered, a wave of cold fear washing over her. It was only her eyes playing tricks on her.
They eventually reached a large room filled with crates and machinery. A few forklifts were scattered around in the midst of lifting cargo, almost like they had been abandoned in the middle of work. "See if you can find anything of interest," Aenya urged them, and they went about breaking open some of the crates.
It was mostly just parts and electrical wiring, but there were a few crates full of what seemed like food. They did not try any, not knowing whether this species was dextro of levo amino acid based. For a moment it did not seem as if they would find anything of interest save for the strange foodstuffs among the loads and loads of ore.
Liara was going through another box filled with circuit boards and parts for machines she could not even begin to fathom when she came across something interesting. It had a grip much like a pistol, but the front was flat with four orange prongs curving back along gray body. There was no obvious barrel, so it probably was not a firearm. "Maybe a power tool of some kind," she thought, testing the feel of it in her hand. It was quite heavy.
"What do you have there, Dr. T'Soni?" Virlen asked, having noticed her interest in the strange implement.
"I'm not sure exactly," she shook her head, handing it over for the STG operative to examine.
"Hmm, resembles a weapon of some kind. Where did you find it?"
"In this box of equipment," she answered.
"Tavil'Kala, any thoughts?" Virlen asked the engineer.
Tavil ran his omnitool over the object and played around with it, the front end sparking as he pushed a part of it further into the housing. "It's powered up. Reading similarly to a mining laser, I think. It reminds me of something similar we use back aboard the fleet. I can only speculate about what it..."
His thought was cut off as the front end glowed blue and fired a bolt of some kind of energy, which smashed into a pile of food and set it on fire. Tavil was so surprised that he dropped the object, whatever it was discharging again as it hit the floor and almost burning a hole through Aenya if she had been standing only a few inches to her right.
Saren snarled, stalking to where a dumbfounded Tavil was standing and pushing him violently away. "Idiot Quarian! Your incompetence will be the death of us all!"
Tavil shrank back, his head bowed. He murmured something that sounded like an apology.
As Saren chewed out the shocked quarian, Mordin picked up the, for the moment forgotten, object and examined it closely before checking the scar the second energy bolt had caused. "Hmm, explains superheated steel. Ionized plasma. Interesting," he thought aloud before continuing. "Most likely not weapon. Balance off. Tavil most likely correct...mining implement".
"Easily repurposed as a weapon though," Virlen pointed out.
"Like on a mining ship boarded by armed raiders," Nihlus finished the thought for him.
"We have more to fear from useless members of our own group than these mysterious pirates," Saren snorted, sending a venomous look at the chastened quarian.
Aenya still seemed a bit shaken up from almost taking a bolt of plasma to the chest, but she recovered quickly. "It was an accident. We have to remember that we are dealing with unfamiliar technology and act accordingly. Just be more careful in the future," she told Tavil.
He nodded, not meeting her gaze. Virlen took back the plasma emitter from Mordin and popped the magazine. "Huh, so that's how it works". He searched through the crate where it had been found and produced more magazines before handing them over to Liara. "Here, you found it. It's yours".
"Oh, I couldn't. I've never even fired a gun in my life," she put her hands in front of her in a gesture of denial.
"Think of it as a souvenir," he grinned. "This is how you load and unload it. Don't know how many shots are in a charge though. You fire by depressing the trigger here. Just try not to shoot any of us".
Liara blushed and offered a murmured word of thanks. She attached the plasma tool to the magnetic strip of her belt.
"Hopefully, that is the last of the excitement for the day," Aenya sighed. "Specter Arterius, would you help me with this door? I am not sure how to open it".
Most of the doors in the corridors had opened automatically once they had moved lose enough, but this one seemed sealed tight. It was a large blast door with several red spinning lights around it. Part of it was painted in diagonal stripes of yellow and black, and large red letters were printed on each side. Liara knew red was typically the color used to warn, and she wondered again what the words meant.
"I think this is the manual release," Saren spoke, as he wrenched the lever up from its locked position. Locks along the blast door's perimeter slid out of place and hydraulic fluid vented from several vents.
"This might be the entrance to the main part of the ship," Virlen pointed out as the door groaned and began to slowly ascend.
For a moment, white clouds of vaporized coolant obscured the entrance, but after a few moments, the haze began to clear. Liara heard screaming, not realizing it was her own piercing shrieks echoing throughout the warehouse.
"Goddess, I hate all this waiting. Worst part of the job," Carrere complained.
"Funny, I thought the worst part was hearing you bitch," her fellow pilot Anella said dryly.
"Oh, screw you," she glared back at her, giving her a playful punch on the arm.
"Hey, I'm open to the possibility," Anella gave her a suggestive look.
"Your mom would kill you if you introduced your asari girlfriend to her," Carrere smirked.
"Eh, she's a prejudiced, old witch anyway. Who cares what she thinks," she shrugged.
"I'm dating someone at the moment".
"What, that salarian you met at the bar in Nos Astra? How many weeks does he have left to live? Three? Four?" Anella smirked.
"Oh, so you're not prejudiced?" Carrere said indignantly.
"It's not prejudice if they really do have the lifespan of the Thessian fly".
"Do you know how amazingly offensive you sound?" Carrere gave her a sharp glare.
"Please, don't give me that superior look. You think it's funny," Anella shot back.
"Not when you're making fun of how long my boyfriend has got to live," she countered.
"Fine, whatever. You're right. I'm a terrible person," Anella remarked airily. "Well how about it then? Hate sex is the best sex, or so I've heard".
"Ugh, no thank you," Carrere's face scrunched up as if she had just smelled something horrible.
"Suit yourself," Anella shrugged. "So what do you think they're going to find out there?"
"Trouble. If you ask me this is stupid as all hell. We don't know anything about these aliens, but here we are on their ship, which may or may not have been attacked by someone else. If things start looking bad, I say we book it," Carrere answered with a frown.
"Even with two specters and two of those STG spooks? I think they know what they're doing".
"Please," Carrere scoffed. "Those fools cause more problems than they solve. Look at the krogan".
"What about them? My dad's a krogan," Anella raised an eyebrow.
"I know that, idiot. I mean, it's not like I've been to your house and visited your parents about a hundred times," she said in an exasperated tone. "I'm saying that they uplifted them before they were ready. Salarians don't exactly have a good track record with new races. Krogan...Rachni..."
"Hey, what are you doing there?" Anella said sharply.
"Nothing..."
"Don't think you're going to smoke in here," she said forbiddingly, pointing to the pack she had just taken out of her flightsuit.
"Oh come on! Just one?"
"We both know it won't stop at one," Anella said, as she narrowed her eyes. "You aren't ruining my lungs with that poison. Take it outside!"
"How am I supposed to smoke in a vacuum, genius?" Carrere argued.
"Through the airlock," Anella said, pointing to the back of the hangar.
"I can't go over there!"
"Why not?"
Carrere looked away, her cheeks blushing purple. "I don't know...the specter said not to leave...and its dark," she mumbled.
Anella laughed. "You're so precious. Such a baby!"
"Shut your mouth!" Carrere snapped as she grabbed her helmet and put it on with an overdramatic flourish. "It'll be your fault if I get killed or kidnapped by aliens!"
"Can't promise that I'll attend your funeral," Anella smirked.
"Bitch," Carrere muttered as she opened the hatch. She made her way to the hangar's interior, still cursing her fellow pilot under her breath as she approached the airlock.
They had met soon after Carrere first earned her wings and became friends soon after. They always tried to get assigned to the same missions, as Carrere could not imagine working with anyone else. Most people they knew wondered how they were even friends given the amount of vitriol that passed between them, but she thought a relationship was not really strong if it was not tested by a few fights or many as it were.
Her advances had always confused Carrere though. Anella always passed it off as teasing, but Carrere knew that she was always more ill-tempered than usual when she was dating. Maybe if she would just be serious for once, and tell her how she really felt. She shook her head and dismissed the thought. It would never work anyway.
The hiss of breathable air woke her up from her daydreaming, and she stepped into the gloomy corridor. Florescent lights flickered and dimmed as spinning red lights caused shadows to dance along the walls. It was like something out of a low-budget horror movie, something she would see with Anella at cheap theaters late at night.
She removed her helmet, dropping it to the ground as she lit up. She sucked the herbal smoke into her lungs and blew out a funnel of vapor with a contented sigh. She needed this. It was always hard to concentrate on these missions, and the boring ones were far worse than the tense ones.
She closed her eyes, and that is when she heard it. A chittering sound, like the noise of insect legs. She heard it in the walls, but when she tried to listen closer, it would stop. She tried to ignore it, but it just seemed to get louder. Carrere began feeling a little nervous as the sound persisted, but she just shook her head and dismissed the feeling. She was not a little child who got scared at a strange noise.
Carrere continued to smoke, her paranoia increasing with every moment. She turned around to look behind her, certain something had been there a moment ago, but there was nothing. The feeling that something was watching her just kept building, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to return to the shuttle. She took a step to reach the airlock when the lights died.
The darkness was pressing in on her. It was claustrophobic; she could not see anything, and she vaguely acknowledged that she was starting to panic. She heard her breaths now leaving her lungs rapidly, almost to the point of hyperventilation. Something was wrong. Something did not feel right. There was something about this ship that sent a chill through her body.
She willed herself to calm down. Everything was fine. The specter had even confirmed that there were no life forms near to their position. She was completely alone. There had only been a power failure. It figured on a damaged ship after all.
Remembering her omnitool, she activated it and felt her anxiety dissipate at the sight of the soft, orange glow filling the corridor. She swiveled on her heel, checking the entire hallway and finding nothing that had not been there a few seconds ago.
Letting out a sigh of relief, she tried the airlock control panel to open the inner seal, but apparently the power outage affected the door controls as well. She slumped to the ground, swearing at her terrible luck and settling in for a long wait.
The chittering seemed to have stopped, only the soft whir of the life support system and her own soft breaths breaking the silence. "Anella, the power just went out. I'm stuck in the corridor leading to the airlock. What should I do?" she spoke into her communicator, but the only response she received was static. That was strange. Was something blocking the signal?
Time passed, and Carrere wondered why Anella had not come looking for her. She had received no messages either, and she was sure that it was past the point when her friend would get worried. She felt a bit of anger rise up in her chest, as she wondered why she had not come looking yet.
Just as her temper started to get the better of her, the lights flickered and she yelled out, "Finally!" The lights immediately shut off. "Shit!"
She punched the airlock door in a fit of rage, the sound echoing throughout the confined passage. As she tried to calm down, a bang seeming to come from all sides at once answered the echoing sound of her fist hitting the door. Carrere looked around, wondering where it came from when she heard the sound of movement. It was coming from the ceiling, the distinctive noise of thin metal depressing as something made its way through the air ducts.
Her pistol was immediately in her hand, and she aimed it at the ceiling. Whatever it was moved slowly, like it was stalking its prey. It moved closer to her, the noise of its approach getting nearer every second. She pressed herself against the airlock, crouching to keep distance between her and the ceiling. It seemed to pause when it reached her, and she heard sniffing, like an animal searching for a scent.
She did not hesitate, firing a few rounds into the air vent. Something screeched and scampered away. She was breathing heavily, fear having almost completely taken control of her. Carrere listened, but she did not hear it come back. Whatever it was, it sounded more like an animal than something sentient. Her pistol stayed aimed above her, as she silently prayed for the power to come back on, so she was not trapped in here.
"Come on, please," she pleaded, looking desperately at the door.
With the sound of a generator powering up, the lights turned back on, and Carrere was immediately through the airlock door, her helmet on as she waited for the room to depressurize.
As soon as the airlock hissed open, she made a beeline for the shuttle, jumping through the opened hatch and closing it behind her. She panted, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. "Goddess, you won't believe what happened out there," she spoke quickly as she headed to the cockpit.
The first thing she saw was the blood spatter on the console. Her mind went blank as she stepped into the cramped space. Anella's face was turned toward hers, her mouth slightly and glassy eyes wide open in look of frozen surprise. A bloody hole was punctured through the center of her forehead. Her chest had been ripped open, ribs splayed outward like something had wrenched them out of place. Carrere stepped back, her boot getting stuck to the ground as she pulled it from the sticky pools of blood.
"Oh, no, no, no...Goddess, Anella, no...," she whimpered. "Please no..."
Her eyes looked everywhere at once as she swept her weapon around the enclosed space of the shuttle, searching for whatever did this. The shuttle was empty. Her friend's killer had apparently fled, but it could still be lying in wait.
Shuddering, she reached for the communications panel, her hand shaking as she wiped away some of the blood. It was everywhere. "Calm down, Carrere. Deep breaths," she told herself, trying desperately to focus. It was tough when it felt like she would throw up. She was covered in her friend's blood, still warm to the touch. "Got to warn them".
Liara wretched, her throat burning from the noxious bile. Aenya was standing beside her, patting her back and trying not to look disgusted. It was difficult both with the horrible sounds coming from Liara and the scene beyond the blast door.
They were piled there, dozens of bodies lying in puddle of blood and gore. Their faces were twisted into masks of horror, their mouths open in silent screams. They had been ripped apart, their organs literally falling out of shredded body cavities, some of the aliens looking like they had died desperately trying to keep their intestines from falling out of their slashed abdomens.
The aliens looked as if they had been frantically trying to get through the door. They must have been gathered there, pounding on the unyielding steel, trapped with whatever had subjected them to such a grisly fate.
"Gutted and dismembered," Nihlus said in a disgusted tone. "Looks more like the work of animals than anything else.
Mordin was kneeling near the carnage, turning over some of the corpses to examine them. "Bodies lacking wounds consistent with projectile weaponry. Stabbed. Slashed. Unnecessary brutality. No justification," he sniffed.
Saren seemed unaffected by the scene of death surrounding them. He nudged the bodies with his boot and picked up another of those plasma emitters they had found earlier. "These aliens look remarkably like asari. Well, the few that are still mostly intact do," he observed. "A few were armed as well. I wonder how their attackers got so close to inflict these wounds".
"Their attackers could have been trained, or they had experience with this kind of slaughter," Virlen guessed. "Look at these aliens. None of them are wearing armor, and they only had a few weapons between them. They're miners most likely, not soldiers".
"They were trying to make it to the hangar. They must have been pursued here and trapped," Saren said.
"A few must have escaped. There were no spacecraft in the hangar," Aenya reasoned hopefully.
"Or they got destroyed by whoever attacked this ship," Nihlus shrugged.
"There's not a lot we know. It could be dangerous to move deeper into the ship especially with civilians tagging along," Virlen said, pointing to Liara and Aenya. "Might be a good idea to call for backup".
"And wait for the politicians to authorize a better armed expedition? Not happening," Nihlus snorted.
"Reinforcements unlikely. Counsel concerned about media scrutiny," Mordin adopted his classic thinking pose. "Doctors Parr, T'Soni. Safer for you to return".
"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of us that easily," Aenya gave the salarian doctor an impressive glare. "If we find any of these aliens...alive, you will need us to establish communication".
"Hey, I'm fine going back to the ship," Tavil said wryly.
"It really might not be that bad of an idea," Liara backed him up, her voice hoarse and shaking.
"I agree. We'll be better off without the dead weight," Saren sneered, his mouth opening to release another round of disparaging remarks when his communicator beeped. "What is it?" he barked.
There was only static for a moment, but then a panicked voice spoke, "Oh thank the Goddess! They haven't got you yet! They killed her! Please, you have to get back here!"
Saren seemed momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recovered. "Who is this? Stop whimpering and speak clearly!"
"Carrere," she managed to get out after struggling to stop sucking in air like a suffocating fish. It sounded like she was hyperventilating, and there were more than a few muffled sobs coming over the line as well.
"Who?" Saren snapped, growing more irritated by the second.
"Our shuttle pilot," Mordin stated, and for a second Liara thought she saw a look of distaste as his black eyes passed over Saren. He activated his own communicator and spoke, "Lieutenant Seris, Operative Mordin Solus speaking. Please tell me everything".
"Oh, Dr. Solus. Anella, she...she's dead! Killed!" the pilot spoke shakily. "I don't know what happened. I came back to the ship, and there was blood. Goddess, so much blood!"
" First Lieutenant Anella Tao is dead?" Mordin asked. "How?"
"She...she was stabbed. Her chest ri...ripped open and her head impaled...there's blood all over the console, on my hands..."
"You witnessed this?"
"N...no. I left the shuttle to...have a smoke. The power went out. There are...things in the walls. I could hear them!" she spoke hysterically. "Something in the vent was stalking me. I shot at it, and it fled. Anella...when I got back..."
"You were not to leave the shuttle!" Saren growled, his eyes darting immediately to the air vents around them.
"Moving through air ducts..." Mordin said gravely. They all knew what he was thinking about. "Shuttle secure, yes?"
"Y...yes. Whatever was here...was gone by the time I made it back. I checked the interior of the craft, and the sensors show no life signs in the hangar".
"We would have picked up life signs if they were moving toward the hangar. Something's not right," Virlen muttered.
"They could be shielded, or our sensors might just not pick them up," Tavil suggested as everyone looked at him, not realizing that such a thing was possible.
"How so?" Nihlus asked.
"The sensors detect body heat and indicators of the respiratory and circulatory system. Maybe these aliens don't have those biological functions," he shrugged, like it was obvious or something.
"A disturbing thought," Virlen said. But from what we know about their anatomy, they seem fairly similar to any of us".
"Maybe we're not alone," Saren spoke darkly. "Pilot, secure the ship for our immediate extraction. The mission has been compromised".
"I...I will, sir," the pilot spoke meekly.
"Any objections?" Saren snapped, looking mostly at Nihlus.
"There are too many unknowns. Continuing the mission presents too high a risk to the civilians," his partner said.
"Agreed. Objectives impossible to achieve without unacceptable risk," Mordin nodded.
"I'll prep the shuttle and..." Carrere said over the communicator before the line went silent.
They waited a few seconds before Mordin spoke questioningly, "Lieutenant Seris?"
"No..." the single word sounded over the comm. line, "no, this can't be happening...Goddess help me!"
"Lieutenant, What's wrong?" Saren yelled over the line, even his voice starting to sound a bit concerned.
"It's...it's inside her...Goddess no...oh no, please...there's something under her skin! It's eating her from the inside!" her voice grew steadily more panicked as words devolved into screams. As they listened in growing horror, the sound of something roaring joined her screeching cries followed closely by several gunshots and then just static.
Liara just stood there with wide eyes, wondering what kind of monstrous thing could make that sound. She jumped as she felt something on her shoulder, turning to see Virlen looking at her with a grim expression. "Dr. T'Soni, we need to leave, now.
She could only nod dumbly, as he led her away, her eyes straying to a grated vent. Malevolent eyes stared back...
AN: Dead Space 3 has me interested in the series again, and since I always enjoy crossovers, I decided to write one. This is set at least ten years before Mass Effect, so some of the characters are younger as you probably noticed. Hope you enjoy.