Author's Note: I would like to thank BSN's hot_heart and IcyFlare and everyone who has reviewed here for your critical input and suggestions. I have not changed the events of the first chapter in any way, but based on the feedback I have cleaned up some grammatical errors and similar issues.
Mass Effect: Event Horizon
A Mass Effect Fanfiction
By Drussius
Chapter One: Beginnings
Approaching the Asgard System, Now…
Neela'Xara nar Ganaza shifted in the comfortable pilot's seat of the Sileya, a small asari cargo vessel, her hands hovering in anticipation over the holographic interface of the controls. A moment later, when the interface indicated that the ship had reached the edge of the system and their mass effect envelope dissipated, the quarian pilot quickly went to work. She swung the ship around and bringing up the local navigational charts, setting course toward their destination… an asteroid spaceport orbiting the planet Terra Nova.
It did not take long to reach sensor range of the planet, and once it was within sight, Neela's eyes widened behind the dark visor of her suit's helmet. A veritable cloud of starships was floating serenely around the spaceport. At the heart of the swarm of Alliance cruisers and frigates were two immense vessels – an Alliance dreadnought and carrier. Neela had not seen such a large concentration of ships since leaving the flotilla for her pilgrimage, and her heart sank at the sight. She had seen the footage that came in the day before. An armada of invaders had commenced an assault on the human home world. This fleet was undoubtedly present to defend Terra Nova against a similar assault.
"Incoming Vessel. This is the Alliance Sixth Fleet, SSV Thermopylae. State your destination and business."
"This is the Asari Cargo Vessel Sileya," Neela answered the incoming transmission in her high-pitched and almost childlike voice. "We are scheduled to receive a shipment held in cargo bay B-19 of the orbital station. I am requesting approach vectors and a berth."
The quarian pilot adjusted course and speed, slowing the ship so that she could await docking instructions and avoid any appearance of hostility. However, the only response from the Alliance ship following her transmission was a strange digital distortion. She brought up the communications information on the holographic interface in front of her, her brows coming together in confusion over the transmission analysis displayed there. There was some kind of interference in the signal. She wondered if perhaps the Alliance ships might be the source. Perhaps the Alliance was assuming hostility for some reason and was jamming the signal.
She activated the channel designated for contacting the Captain aboard the ship, and was just about to send a message asking her to come up to the bridge when a red beam lanced past the ship. The attack was a direct hit against one of the Alliance vessels, and after a few seconds the sustained fire pierced the ship's barriers, shattering the cruiser violently.
"Keelah!"
Acting on pure reflex, Neela frantically made corrections in their course, taking evasive action to get out of the path of any follow-up attacks that might be incoming. Even as she made the adjustments, however, she was worried. The Sileya was not a combat vessel. While it appeared to be a vastly scaled-down version of the famous Destiny Ascension, which had been lost in the Battle of the Citadel years before, it was not an especially maneuverable ship.
"Captain!" Neela screamed into the microphone built into her helmet, glad that she had opened a channel before the incoming fire started. "We have a serious problem up here!"
"On my way," came the immediate reply.
Another crimson beam passed within a few dozen meters of the bow of the ship, and Neela hastily made another course change, noting with alarm that the Alliance vessels had taken up defensive positions. Both the Alliance fleet and the station's automated defenses started returning fire. She was caught in crossfire between the defenders and whoever the attackers were. Adrenaline surged through her. She brought the ship around and plotted a quick course, preparing to make a run toward the far side of the station to get out of the firefight. As the ship banked and turned to align to the new heading, she caught sight of the attackers through the front viewport, and her breath caught in her throat.
There were about a half-dozen massive starships on route toward Terra Nova and its asteroid-based spaceport. She had seen these same vessels in the data feeds received from Earth before contact had been lost. Reapers. The Reaper vessels looked like some sort of strange disembodied mechanical hand and forearm, or perhaps some form of tentacled monster. The humans had blamed these Reapers for provoking the geth attack on the Citadel years before, and had used them as justification for the destruction of a Mass Relay six months ago. Neela had veered between believing the rumors and dismissing them as the delusion of conspiracy theorists ever since she'd first heard the stories. When the footage from Earth came in, however, any doubts had vanished. Terrified as she was at that moment, she was just thankful that the Reapers seemed to be concentrating their fire on the space station and the Alliance craft, not the Sileya.
Small red points of light swarmed out of the sides of the Reaper vessels and started drawing closer. Neela sat frozen in her seat, staring with a mixture of terror and wonder at the sight. Her hand hovered over the holographic interface, course corrections momentarily forgotten. She could not tear her gaze away from the red lights that were rapidly closing not only on the Alliance fleet, but on the Sileya as well… until one of them fired a crimson burst very similar to the ones with which the much larger Reaper vessels were bombarding Terra Nova's defenders.
"They're fighters of some kind," she spoke the sudden realization aloud, jarred back to reality by the impact of the first blast against the Sileya's barriers. The strike sent a tremor through the vessel despite the stabilizing effect of the inertial dampeners.
She brought the ship around rapidly and made a run for the station, but laser-imaging scans showed that the fighters were giving chase, forcing her to alter course again in hopes of evading their attacks. The scanner images of the small fighter craft that were displayed on her screen resembled a mechanical eye. The craft were roughly ovoid in shape, save for a few protrusions in the plating of their exterior, and their weapon blasts were emitted from a glowing red aperture at the front. The projectiles they fired were quickly pulverizing the Sileya's barriers, despite Neela's frantic attempts to evade their attacks; there were simply too many to avoid.
She heard footsteps approaching the bridge at a run, and she hoped that the captain would have some ideas about how they could make an escape. She didn't dare try a jump to FTL speeds while under constant fire, especially with the increasing amount of debris polluting the surrounding space as more vessels were destroyed. The Sileya's barriers were almost down, and if the drive core were to be damaged while they were trying to make the jump, it could be catastrophic. However, if they didn't do something to escape, the results would be just as horrific.
Columbia System, Four weeks earlier…
Neela'Xara sat silently in the solitude of the Sileya's bridge, her eyes fixed upon the distant stars outside. The young quarian never tired of the serenity of space, and found the view at once relaxing and inspiring. Only occasionally did her eyes shift to the holographic interface in front of her, and she made minor course corrections to keep the vessel gliding along on its intended route through the system. She was almost exactly where she had always aspired to be… in the pilot's seat of a starship. The only difference between her longtime dream and the place in which she was now sitting was that she was not currently at the helm of a quarian vessel.
The Sileya was a small asari ship, little more than a cargo freighter, though it was quite a beautiful little vessel in the eyes of her pilot. Neela had always thought that aside from her own people's ships, asari ships were the most beautiful vessels in space. She liked the graceful curves and rounded edges common to the ships of both races. There was a much more artistic aesthetic to them than the angular, clunky-looking starships built by the turians or the humans.
Neela had been on her pilgrimage for a little over a year. Thus far, she hadn't found anything that she felt was even close to good enough to serve as a proper gift with which to return to the Migrant Fleet. She wanted her presentation to be something extraordinary, so that when she came back, she would have a better chance to earn a spot on the bridge of whatever vessel would become her new home. Sure, she was competent enough at the repair of various technologies to be useful on the crew of any ship in the flotilla, but that was the extent of her skill in that area… competent. She was every bit as competent at the helm, but her love of piloting starships gave her the determination to learn to become great at it. She would settle for more mundane work if her people really needed it, but she knew she would only be truly happy in the pilot's seat.
She felt, more than heard, another figure step onto the bridge, and she turned in her seat to see which of her crewmates had come to join her. The Sileya had only five crewmembers, and in the six months since she had signed on to the crew, Neela had become quite fond of all of them. They were like a surrogate family, and given how much she missed being among her people, she sorely needed that bond at times.
Her visitor was none other than the ship's captain, an asari who had seemed like such an intimidating figure to the young quarian when she'd first signed on. Captain Julisa Nisaria had the figure of a highly-trained athlete, the steely gaze of a veteran soldier, and the sharp intellect of an asari Matriarch, though Neela never had the nerve to ask how old she actually was. Her skin was a dark hue for an asari, and the natural markings around her eyes seemed only to accent the most unnerving aspects of her gaze. She had obviously seen days on the battlefield, as evidenced by the rather prominent scar that went from her right brow up to her scalp crests, and the fact that she carried an old shotgun with her everywhere she went. In truth, while Neela was more comfortable around the captain now than she had been for the first few months, she still found the woman a bit unnerving.
"Captain," Neela greeted her, and then returned her gaze to the interface in front of her.
"Neela," the captain returned her greeting.
In contrast to the high-pitched voice of the young quarian, the asari's voice was deeper in tone and quite lovely. It often sounded to Neela as if the woman was purring her words rather than speaking them.
"We are on course and speed to reach our destination in less than an hour," Neela reported. "Precisely the time you specified."
"Have there been any signs of other ships in the area?"
"None, Captain," Neela shook her head.
"Slow down. I want to arrive just a little late. An extra fifteen minutes would be excellent."
"Captain?" there was a slight hiss from the seat's swiveling mechanism as Neela turned to look back at her. When she saw the steely look in the asari's eyes, she nodded. "Understood, Captain. Slowing," she pivoted back into position and rapidly made the necessary adjustments, bleeding some of their velocity with a few quick maneuvers.
"Notify me when we are ten minutes out," the captain instructed. "I will have Prathus come up until then."
"Acknowledged."
Neela listened to the receding footfalls of her captain, and then closed her eyes for a moment, soaking up the silence in the wake of the asari's departure. Life with her people on the flotilla was crowded and noisy. There were so many individuals living together in the cramped quarters of their ships that it felt like there was no privacy. While Neela often missed the company of her people, she rarely missed the noise. She loved the silence of the Sileya.
It was short-lived; the heavy and uneven footfalls of a new arrival soon filled the void. A mirthful smile graced Neela's lips beneath the dark visor of her helmet at the sound. While three of the five crew members aboard were asari and all three moved with surprising silence over the metal decks, the fifth member of their little family was far less stealthy when he approached. The fact that he walked with a severe limp might have had something to do with it.
"Hello, Prathus," she greeted the turian before he had even entered the room.
The turian collapsed unceremoniously into the co-pilot's chair to her right, groaning as he did so. At his direction, the chair glided up to the interface in front of him, which he activated, scanning the data displayed there.
"Xara," he finally acknowledged her. The turian always used her clan name rather than her given name. "I trust everything is going well up here?"
"The captain wants to be late. I get the feeling she's expecting trouble on this run."
"I think so," the turian nodded. "She wants me monitoring the system for transmissions or signs of signal interference. I'd guess that she wants to arrive late in the hope that if there are additional ships waiting to ambush us, they'll get impatient and start sending messages back and forth. It would be something that we might intercept... could give us some advance warning."
Prathus was something of a father figure aboard the ship, even though all of the asari aboard were chronologically older than him. The turian was almost sixty years old, and as far as Neela knew, that was about half of the average turian's lifespan. He'd told her a little about his life over the months that they'd served together aboard the Sileya.
A former soldier, he had served aboard a turian military vessel during the Relay 314 incident. When the humans launched a counteroffensive in the space over Shanxi, the ship he served on had been severely damaged. He was injured when some power relays overloaded, and was trapped in a damaged section of the ship by the resulting explosion. It had been over a day before his people managed to cut through collapsed bulkheads and other obstructions to get him medical attention. As a result he had both a permanent limp and an exceptional dislike for humans. However, Neela had developed a great respect for the turian's experience and instinct, and she frowned at his answer.
"Why did she take this job if she thought it was a trap?" Neela questioned.
"Sometimes a smuggler has to take risks to get paid," Prathus shrugged. "When you deal with criminals, you're bound to get conned now and again."
Neela sighed, unable to argue with the turian's logic. Were it not for the fact that she had been offered the chance to pilot the ship when she hired on to the crew, and the pressing need to leave Illium because of a… misunderstanding… with the local security forces, she never would have taken a job as a smuggler. They did honest work about half of the time, but it seemed like the other half was spent delivering unknown cargo to remote locations with strict instructions not to ask any questions about the groups or items involved.
"I wouldn't worry too much, Xara," Prathus said after a moment. "We have a fine pilot, a fast ship, and a captain who, I'd wager, has dealt with far worse than some thieves or mercenaries."
Neela shifted in her seat, embarrassed by the praise. She stole a glance at the old turian, studying the orange markings on his face. He'd told her once that they were representative of a colony, but he hadn't elaborated. Neela found the angular and symmetrical marks fascinating. Her people, confined to suits to isolate themselves from their environment, were sometimes difficult to distinguish from one another. Most quarian enviro-suits were more or less the same. Some of her people added a layer of padding or a few unique bits to provide some visual distinction – Neela herself had a padded vest of sorts in a lovely shade of turquoise and some matching trim along the hood that covered her helmet. But such individual touches usually weren't much.
Prathus broke in on her thoughts. "All of that aside, I may not be able to dance anymore, but I can still hold my own in a fight."
Neela giggled softly. She couldn't help herself.
"What?" the Turian turned to look at her. "You doubt that I can still fight?"
"No. I doubt that you could ever dance."
"Very funny."
"Whatever happens, I know that we'll manage to pull through," Neela voiced her confidence. "We always manage to avoid disaster."
"Speaking of disaster," Prathus changed the subject, "Aida tells me that her people are debating a measure that would pressure the Alliance to pay reparations to the batarians for the Alpha Relay explosion. If you ask me, the Alliance could use a good dose of humility. This might be the catalyst for it."
"Didn't they arrest the one responsible for it a few months back? Commander Shepard?"
"A perfect example of human arrogance," Prathus's tone was icy. "She slams an asteroid into a relay, destroying an entire star system, and then tries to justify it with stories of the imminent arrival of doomsday machines."
"You don't think the Reapers are real?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I think the Alliance is using these 'Reapers' as an excuse to shield themselves from responsibility for the destruction their actions caused. Just like they used ignorance of galactic law to justify tampering with Relay 314."
"I have a hard time believing Commander Shepard would do something like that without a very good reason."
"Why not? The Alliance just watched while the Destiny Ascension was destroyed with the council aboard during the Battle of the Citadel, and then later claimed they couldn't risk losing ships that might be needed to defeat the geth. But they didn't hesitate to seize control of the council afterward. As I recall, that human Shepard was involved in that too," he shook his head in disgust. "I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that the Alliance didn't fight to keep our new representatives from taking their places on the council."
"From what I know, Commander Shepard seems to be a good person. I don't think she would have done any of those things maliciously."
Prathus glanced sidelong at her, and there was a hint of surprise reflected in his expression. "You know her?"
"No," Neela shook her head. "But I've heard about her. She came to the Migrant Fleet a while back to defend one of my people against charges of treason. She convinced the Admiralty Board of Tali'Zorah's innocence. And she eliminated a contingent of geth that had seized one of the fleet's ships. The general opinion among my people is that she is an ally."
"I see," Prathus fell silent.
Neela glanced at the old turian, wondering what he was thinking. Perhaps he had simply decided to drop the subject since she had defended Commander Shepard's actions. She supposed it was for the best. She knew that he was a bit prejudiced against humankind, and didn't really expect to be able to convince him of the Commander's innocence. She didn't even know for sure that Shepard was innocent. Perhaps the Alliance had decided to strike the batarians and claim they had no choice in the matter. Only Shepard herself would ever really know. There did seem to be an awful lot of circumstantial evidence that pointed to humanity being closer to ruthless rivals to the council races than allies.
Neela's gaze returned to the distant stars.
"I like the quiet up here," Prathus broke the silence after several minutes.
Neela smiled.
Over Terra Nova, Now…
The deck beneath Selura Leneur's feet shook violently, and she tried to keep calm as she scanned the data displayed on the holographic screen of the monitoring station she'd taken in an effort to help out. While she was not part of the Sileya's crew, she was aboard the ship with the rest of them, and if she could do something to help, she would.
The asari scientist frowned at the display, shaking her head as the tremors through the deck grew more violent. The kinetic barriers were taking a terrible beating and were close to failing. Worse, the punishment, combined with the rapid evasive maneuvers, were taking a toll on the power and propulsion systems. It was already becoming uncomfortably warm in the engineering area. The plasma conduits were approaching critical temperatures, and the power relays were displaying instability. She had no idea what was going on outside of the ship other than the obvious fact that they were under attack, but she was starting to worry that they would be destroyed. Already it seemed that the inertial dampeners were struggling to smooth out all of the punishment the ship was enduring.
"W-What do the readouts say?" the question came from the Sileya's engineer, a timid young asari maiden named Illitha, as she settled on her back, working her way beneath some of the machinery nearby.
"They indicate that everything is wonderful," Selura's voice was heavy with sarcasm. Sarcasm and jokes were her most common method of dealing with just about any situation, and under stress, she was far more likely to use the former. "And I agree. An undeniable sign of a good day is when you are on a ship that is about to be destroyed in space."
"What? Was that…? Are you really sure this is the time for jokes?"
"Virtually everything is in danger of failure," Selura informed the young engineer. "I need to shunt the plasma flow to the secondary conduits before the primaries overheat and explode. I do not understand why failsafe systems have not done so already."
"Not yet!" Illitha shouted. It was rare, at least in Selura's limited experience, for the engineer to raise her voice. In the time she had been aboard, the girl had barely spoken above a murmur. Illitha had all but disappeared beneath the machinery in an effort to reach something, but Selura had no idea what the girl was doing. She wondered if she had adequately communicated to the girl just how serious the temperature and power readouts really were.
"The conduits are at critical temperature!" Selura repeated the warning.
"Wait for my go-ahead," Illitha's muffled voice reached her.
Selura waited, noting with alarm that all of the warning indicators were passing the critical mark. She wanted to ignore the young engineer's instruction and divert the plasma flow to the alternate pathways, but she couldn't be sure what Illitha knew that she did not. Another violent tremor ran through the deck beneath her feet.
Illitha scrambled out from beneath the machinery, covered with a mixture of grease and moisture. As soon as she was clear, she made a vague motion with her hand and nodded. "Do it," she shouted.
Selura activated the emergency protocols. Almost immediately, there was a loud hiss, and traces of steam flowed out from beneath the machinery where the engineer had been working moments before. Illitha took a place beside her at the console, calling up a diagnostic routine and scanning through the results.
"If I had activated the backups while you were under there…" Selura trailed off.
"The sudden flow of plasma through the cooling units that regulate the temperature of the secondary conduits would have caused an immediate buildup of vaporized coolant in the cooling regulator, which releases the excess pressure into the heat sinks I was laying on," Illitha supplied. "I would have… uh… well… it would have been very uncomfortable. That is why I disabled the emergency transfer protocols before I climbed under there."
"And it was not possible to just say so?"
"Perhaps I should have. But I was trying to divert additional coolant from other systems into the power systems. I… I just did not want to distract myself."
Selura was about to say more, but there was a sudden, violent shift in the ship's stability, and a shower of sparks descended upon them from somewhere in the machinery overhead. Illitha reached over and grabbed Selura's wrist, dragging her toward a set of lockers on the far wall.
"There is environmental gear in the lockers over here," she said so softly that Selura almost didn't hear her. "Put it on quickly. The kinetic barriers are down."
Selura felt her stomach tighten into a cold knot of fear. They should have suited up in environmental gear as soon as the ship came under attack. She only hoped they could get into the protective gear before the ship was damaged too badly for the emergency airtight barriers to hold.
Illium, Four weeks earlier…
Selura walked in a circle around the massive piece of technology that she'd spent the last year working as part of a team to develop. She inspected every inch of the surface visually while simultaneously scanning it with her omni-tool, searching for signs of stress or instability in the alloys of which the exterior shell was composed.
Selura had been hired following her completion of University on Lusia to take part in the design of a new prototype propulsion system meant to replace commercial fusion torch systems. While she had not been at the top of her class overall, Selura's scores in engineering, mass effect field application and propulsion theory and design had been impressive enough to attract the notice of some of the less-established firms in asari space. Asari businesses with greater resources tended to recruit students with much higher overall grades than hers.
This suited Selura just fine, however, as her primary interest was in the development of new technology. She liked to think that her father had something to do with her aptitude for science and engineering, since she was the product of a joining between her mother and a salarian. The past year had been filled with some of the happiest days in her life, spent debating the merits of different forms of coolants, the most efficient thruster design parameters, the most reliable upgrades to current propulsion design, the most promising alloys for the internal heat sinks, and myriad other details on the way to their final results… the prototype propulsion system that stood before her now. It had been a joy to see it slowly take shape during a process in which she had been so intimately involved.
Their new prototype would soon be shipped off to another division of the company for thorough testing, but Selura had no doubts that their design would satisfy all of the project's requirements. They had done their work well, and she had been working with some very talented engineers on the project.
After completing her scan and uploading the results to the laboratory's databanks, she sat down at one of the terminals, sifting through the results of the previous night's test startup. It wasn't long before she was lost in her data analysis, busily entering notes via the holographic keypad to accompany the data. All members of the team were expected to include notations wherever possible, so that there were multiple viewpoints expressed on every test and analysis.
The ping from her omni-tool that alerted her to an incoming message startled her out of her work. She activated the communications implant in her ear, using her omni to link it to the channel, and sat back in her chair.
"Selura here."
"Miss Leneur, would you please report to my office?" The voice was that of Director Nyrina, the department overseer.
"On my way," she was quick to assure the Director before deactivating the channel.
She headed for the offices on the floor above, trying to bury the sudden concern that filled her. The project for which she had been hired was more or less completed, and she was afraid that because he contract was about to expire, they were going to release her from their employ. She loved her work, and she didn't know what she would do if her employment was terminated. She'd always wanted to visit Sur'Kesh and see her father's home world, so she supposed she might be able to go there, but she had hoped to be transferred to one of the upcoming projects she'd heard whispers about.
I am letting my imagination get the better of me, she chided herself. She will probably ask for a routine report and nothing more.
She hurried up the stairs, smiling and nodding to those she passed, and upon arrival at her superior's office, was ushered directly inside by the lovely young asari who served as the director's assistant. The door closed behind her, and she stood before her superior, trying to dispel the uneasiness she felt. It was not easy, as the imposing figure in the finely-tailored silver attire seated on the opposite side of the desk had a presence that simply demanded respect. Selura swallowed.
"How can I assist you, Director?" she managed a smile.
"I would like to talk to you about your contract," the director began without preamble.
Selura's smile vanished. She fought desperately to keep from overreacting and assuming the worst, but her normal method of dealing with life… with jokes and sarcasm… was terribly inappropriate when dealing with the project overseer.
"I know that my contract is almost up," she spoke up before her superior could continue. "But I was hoping that… I mean, I heard rumors about other projects… Could I perhaps assist a new team?"
"No," the answer was succinct, and Selura's stomach twisted into a knot when she heard it. "You will not be joining another team here. But if you would allow me to get to the point of this meeting before you make any further assumptions?"
"Of course, Director. I apologize."
"Thank you," the elder asari sat back in her chair, studying Selura intently. "Your work on the prototype drive project has been impressive. The Council of Directors has asked me to pass along their complements to the entire team. They have also asked me to choose one of the team members to oversee the transfer of the prototype to the testing facility. And so, I wanted to discuss a three-month extension of your contract and a transfer to the testing facility on Thessia."
"An extension?" Selura repeated. It took a moment to get past her assumption that any contract discussion would be negative in nature. She was being asked to continue working for the company, and would be doing so on Thessia? She'd never been to her people's home world. She'd grown up in the city of Monoi on the planet Lusia, and had traveled directly to Illium after graduation.
"You would be the design team's liaison to the team responsible for testing," the Director explained. "You will be expected to explain any design choices on which the testing team wants clarification, and will be asked to make design modifications to correct any problems that come up during testing, as long as such problems are minor in scope. Should any major design flaws come to light, the entire prototype will be shipped back for a rebuild. If such steps must be taken, we can discuss another contract extension and transfer for the rework."
"I would love to stay on the project during the testing phase," Selura's answer was immediate, since she'd had a few moments to adjust to the much more positive tone of the discussion. "Thank you for considering me for this privilege."
"You have earned the chance," a smile graced the elder asari's features. "You will be responsible for overseeing the delivery of the prototype, as well as the pickup and delivery of a few prototypes from other facilities, from the moment they are loaded to the moment they are unloaded. Our logistics department has arranged for inconspicuous transport aboard a privately-owned cargo vessel. It will be arriving here in approximately five days. The relevant data on the various projects and the cargo vessel will be forwarded to you later this evening, once the logistics division has been informed of your identity and can grant you the proper clearance."
"I understand. I will not disappoint you."
"I trust that you will not," the director nodded. "That will be all."
Selura bowed her head and withdrew from the room. Once she was outside of the office and the door closed behind her, it took every ounce of will she had not to start jumping up and down. As it was, she was grinning uncontrollably, and she practically bounced as she strode from the room, eliciting muffled laughter from the assistant seated at the desk behind her.
Several of her colleagues and friends from the project were present in the laboratory when she returned, and one of them, an asari near her own age named Lissiya, smiled at her when she entered.
"You look very pleased about something. I heard you were called to the Director's office. Good news, I take it?"
"My contract was terminated for gross insubordination. I am only smiling because I happen to be a naturally upbeat person," Selura grinned playfully, feeling much more like herself now that her future with the company was no longer an unknown.
"Of course. It was not my intent to suggest that your usual demeanor is unpleasant," her friend returned the grin. The two of them had been working together long enough for Lissiya to become accustomed to Selura's sense of humor and general demeanor.
"Are you sure? I thought that you had finally become overwhelmed by my obvious superiority and were going to start assassinating my character to mollify your feelings of inferiority. It is only a matter of time, after all."
"The only thing that overwhelms me is your false lack of humility," Lissiya laughed. "If someone who did not know you overheard you saying something like that, they would likely think you an insufferable braggart."
"False lack of humility? My lack of humility is entirely genuine."
"My mistake," Lissiya laughed. "Now if you could be serious for a moment, what did she say?"
"I have been chosen to oversee the transport of the prototype to the testing facility, and to serve as the consultant there," Selura was practically bouncing again. "The testing grounds are on Thessia! I've never been there."
"Congratulations!" Lissiya grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Rumor has it that the rest of us will be up for contract review by the end of the week. Those of us whose contracts are renewed will be starting a new project sometime next week."
Selura did her best to look grieved by this news, and she squeezed her friend's hand in return. "I am sorry to hear that. I had no idea your contract was up for review," she paused, and one corner of her lips curled upward in the crooked smile that always appeared when she was feeling mischievous. "Goddess knows why they would ever choose to keep you," she quipped, dropping her friend's hand and nimbly dancing out of the way of the playful strike Lissiya tried to deliver to her arm in retaliation. "Striking your coworkers is a serious breach of your contract," she said in mock-indignation. "You are lucky I am fast on my feet."
"No. You are lucky you are fast on your feet," her friend countered.
"Semantics."
"Perhaps getting rid of you is the best thing for me in the long run. Otherwise, sooner or later I am going to strike you in front of management, and then I really will be in breach of contract. None of them would ever understand how much you deserve it."
"So very true," Selura laughed.
"I am really going to miss having you here," Lissiya's expression sobered considerably. "I had hoped we would remain on the same project team."
Selura's smile fell as well, replaced by a look of genuine regret. "I will miss you too. Perhaps when my part in the testing phase is done, they will allow me to rejoin the team."
"I hope so," Lissiya's smile returned. "In any case, you had better get on the vidcomm once in a while and say hello. We should stay in touch. Perhaps I can even come and visit you on Thessia if there is a break in the project. It would be nice to return home for a while."
"What is it like?"
"Thessia is beautiful. You will be constantly surrounded by graceful architecture, with beautiful decorative arches and lovely inlays in the floors. The landscape is dominated by picturesque gardens and placid pools of water… the sunrises and sunsets are glorious. It is so very peaceful. You will love it."
"Just five more days," Selura sighed, trying to picture the home world of her people and what it would be like to actually be there, rather than just seeing it in pictures or vids.
"Since you have some time yet, how about assisting us in siphoning the hydrogen and helium-3 out of the prototype?" Lissiya gestured toward the others present in the room, all of them working to attach hoses to the prototype's fuel couplings.
"Why bother? It is not like the fuel is volatile," Selura's playful tone returned as they walked toward the rest of the team.
"Jokes aside, Goddess only knows what other materials might be stored on the transport vessel," one of the other scientists pointed out as they approached, "or how they might react with hydrogen or helium-3 if an accident occurred."
"I hope I will not be responsible for the handling of any explosives or weapons," Selura admitted, climbing up and opening the clamps, preparing to help maneuver a hose into place. "But I do see your point. I guess I can help out."
"So kind," Lissiya grinned up at her.
"You know me," Selura grinned back. "Generosity defines my existence."
Over Terra Nova, Now…
"What's the problem?" a gravelly voice inquired as the sound of its owner's heavy booted footfalls accompanied him into the room.
His eyes settled upon the spectacle outside, where Reaper ships were bombarding the asteroid spaceport over Terra Nova and the Alliance fleet. There were clouds of debris – the remains of a number of Alliance ships – floating around the spaceport. He also spotted a lone asari vessel that was desperately trying to shake Oculus fighter drones off of its tail while being pelted with incoming fire. The expression on the man's scarred face hardened with irritation and hatred. He was more familiar with both enemies than most others in the known universe, and he was well aware that the Reapers had started their assault on humanity the day before. A handful of images of the vessels descending upon Earth's cities had managed to get out of the system before the Reapers destroyed the FTL comm buoys to cut off communications. As a human, he wanted nothing more than to see the damned things reduced to clouds of shattered debris.
"Asari vessel is in imminent danger of destruction," a higher-pitched and more nasal voice answered him. "Reaper ships have initiated assault upon Terra Nova. Alliance craft are already maneuvering in preparation for retreat. Estimate three minutes until Alliance fleet jumps to FTL for escape. Estimate an additional six minutes before one or more Reapers land on asteroid formerly designated X-57. Surmise that it is likely only a few Reaper ships will remain in orbit. Others will descend to the planet's surface to begin harvesting population, as was witnessed in the footage of the assault on Earth prior to loss of contact."
The figure turned his gaze upon his salarian companion, regarding the green-skinned figure speculatively. Then his eyes turned toward the sight of the planet itself. "I hope you aren't about to suggest we try to save their arses. Cerberus has to have landed by now. We need to get to the surface."
"Cerberus agents landed days ago. However, urgency regarding the descent to the surface is shared. Asari vessel is a useful distraction. While fighter drones concentrate on destroying it, we can descend to the planet's surface."
"I'm glad we agree."
"Our mission takes precedence over the lives of strangers," the salarian assured him. "Besides, lack of armament on this vessel makes discussion of rescue attempts irrelevant." The salarian turned his attention to the young human in the pilot's seat. "Pilot, circle around and start descent to the planet's surface. Avoid enemy contact if at all possible."
The human turned away from the spectacle of the doomed asari ship and headed for the small cabin that had been assigned to him when he came aboard. He had joined up with the ragtag mercenary band when his contacts informed him that a salarian was hiring mercenaries to assist in dealing with a Cerberus threat on Terra Nova. It wasn't a group he was particularly fond of traveling with – a salarian, another human and two vorcha – but he had to take what he could get. He had a score to settle with Cerberus, and he was damned well going to get it done.
He entered his cabin and started collecting his gear. He was eager to give the Illusive Man the first black eye of many to come. No one was going to cross him without paying for it.
Omega, Four weeks earlier…
A lone figure strode along a dark corridor deep in the slums of Omega, his heavy boots ringing against the deck plating with every step. He moved with calm purpose, stepping over the occasional downtrodden soul that was curled up on the floor for lack of anywhere else to sleep. Occasionally the dim lighting glinted upon the edges of battle-scarred armor, or shone upon the surface of the old Mattock rifle that he carried openly in his hands. The few living souls that saw him made sure to keep out of his way, as he had the air of a man not to be trifled with.
The corridors and rooms through which he passed were tarnished and even rusted in spots, and though there were lights, most of the illumination came from the garish holographic advertisements that showed up on the walls here and there. The deep and scratchy voice of a batarian echoed down the lonely corridors, repeating prerecorded bits of what the figure supposed passed for news on this station. Most of them, he noticed, painted humanity in an unflattering light.
The only pause in the man's stride came when the recorded voice mentioned that Commander Shepard was responsible for the deaths of 300,000 batarians, and that the Alliance and the council were now shielding her from proper justice at the hands of the Hegemony. He shook his head, eyes narrowed briefly in anger, and his jaw clenched. One might have supposed he was angry that the batarian voice was suggesting Shepard deserved punishment. But the truth was something else entirely.
Eventually the figure's silent march brought him to a junction in the corridor, where a pile of old equipment was stacked off to one side, casting a shadow that almost, but not quite, hid the heavily cloaked figure that sat beside it. He stopped there, leaning up against the stack of tarnished machine parts and crates.
"There are easier ways to hire mercenaries," the man spoke in a harsh and gravelly voice, irritation showing plainly upon his scarred face. "So let's get on with this. What's the job?"
The figure in the shadows stirred and got to its feet, glancing around before speaking, as if to be sure no one was within earshot. "Follow me," the voice was that of a female.
"I'm getting tired of jumping through your goddamn hoops," the man warned, falling into step behind her. "You'd better not be wasting my time."
They walked a short distance down the corridor, and then the cloaked woman stopped at a door, activating her omni-tool. Her fingers danced across the holographic inputs for a few moments. There was an audible series of clicks, and the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. She stepped into the darkness beyond the threshold, and the man followed without hesitation. The door closed behind them.
Lights flickered and then turned on, bathing the room in the harsh white glare of their fluorescent glow. The room was barren of furniture and decoration. There were some crates stacked in a corner, but nothing else to draw the eye. The woman cast back the hood on the garment she wore, revealing a pretty face surrounded by dark, chin-length hair. The man was not impressed. He regarded her impatiently.
"We're alone now. Maybe you could get to the point behind all this bullshit?"
Wordlessly, the woman held out a small metallic orb, which floated forward. She activated her omni-tool and pressed a few holographic keys. There was a flash, a flicker, and then the holographic image of a middle-aged man dressed in an impeccable suit appeared around the orb. The holographic image and the man regarded each other for a moment, while the hologram took a long drag from the cigarette he was holding.
"Greetings, Mr. Massani," the hologram intoned. "I was pleased with your performance in helping to deal with the Collector threat, though the final results were less than ideal."
"The Illusive Man," Zaeed inclined his head slightly. "Why the face-to-face? An encrypted extranet transmission would've been simpler… worked last time."
"I wanted to extend this little olive branch, because I was hoping you would consider doing one more job for Cerberus. I am aware that our last deal didn't go quite the way I promised, and I hope that you realize that it was Shepard, not Cerberus, who denied you your revenge. Just as she destroyed the Collectors' base and denied me the resource I wanted. I'm hoping that the payment increase I authorized was enough to lessen the sting a bit."
"Shepard's selfless bullshit on Zorya gave Vido the time to escape. There aren't enough credits in the goddamn universe to make up for that. Go to hell," Zaeed turned on his heel and headed for the door.
"What if I told you that I've tracked down Vido Santiago again?"
Zaeed paused, and then turned slowly, regarding the holographic image with a penetrating gaze. "You know where that bastard is? I'm listening."
"There are a number of loose ends that Cerberus needs to tie up before we can focus on the task of dealing with the Reapers. My troops are busy with the major issues at hand, so I need individuals to clean up a few of the smaller pieces that have slipped through the cracks. I've hired a handful, but time is a factor here. If you can find and deal with some targets for me, I will not only pay you handsomely, but I'll give you what you really want: The location of your former partner."
"How'd you find him?" Zaeed regarded the hologram with suspicion. "He disappeared after we lost him at the refinery. I hear he's got Vosque runnin' the operation while he cowers in some dark hole somewhere."
"Does it matter? What matters is that I have his location, and I'm offering it to you in exchange for the easiest job you'll ever take. Eliminate a handful of targets, and then you can settle things with your old friend. Do we have a deal?"
"I'm a mercenary. Not an assassin. I won't turn down a second chance at dealing with Vido, but I have to ask why you'd choose me."
"You've proven that you get results. Your work against the Collectors was impressive. And since you did a job for Cerberus once and did it well, I am confident you can do it again. I would rather rely on your expertise and our past dealings than bring in an unknown or pull valuable operatives off of more important tasks."
"Fair enough. Deal. Who are the targets?"
"Doctor Eva will provide you with the details, and a scanner device with the location of your former partner's safe house encrypted on it. Once you've used the device to obtain retinal and DNA scans of all five of our targets, it will decrypt the location for you and upload confirmation of your success to me. Consider it a form of payment in advance, with a contingency to ensure that we both get what we want."
"Not much of a contingency. There are plenty of tech experts I could take it to for decryption."
"You have a well-deserved reputation. When you take a job, you get it done. I have every confidence that this situation will be no different. And of course, the device's encryption suite is programmed to purge the information if any attempts are made to access it prematurely."
"So all I have to do is avoid shooting any of them in the face. Simple enough. I'd better get what I want this time," Zaeed warned.
"I think this time, we'll both be satisfied," the Illusive Man predicted. "Eva, give him the device and the necessary information. Good luck, Mr. Massani."
"I don't need luck," Zaeed muttered as the holographic image collapsed in on itself and vanished. He turned his gaze upon the young woman expectantly.
The woman activated her omni-tool once more, uploading the locations of the targets to Zaeed's omni. He checked the information as it was uploaded, and was pleased to see that one target was in the same cluster as Omega, and the other four were all together in Bekenstein. The woman then handed him a small scanning device, which he slipped into a storage compartment in his armor.
"One of the targets is a day's cruise from here," he pointed out. "So why didn't you handle that one yourself?"
"I am a researcher, not an assassin," the young woman regarded him coolly. "And I have other tasks that require my immediate attention."
Zaeed turned without another word and strode to the door, pressing the holographic trigger to open it. As it slid open, he spoke again, his voice edged in steel. "If this device of yours doesn't tell me what I want to know when the job is done, there won't be a planet in the galaxy where the two of you can hide." With that final threat, he stepped out into the corridor, setting off on the quest to find his first target.
