A Matter Of Race And Character
HUMAN INTEREST
Recreation Deck, Hierarchy Vessel 'Arcadias' – 18:20 Zulu – 26th January 2183 CE
Crewmen were bustling up and down the passageway; the recreation decks' corridor practically heaved with the dozens of Arcadias service personnel who'd recently finished their shifts. Liaison Officer Valni Severan and Artificer Djamil Leptis walked between them, chatting animatedly as they strode in the direction of the training area.
"You've had them a couple of days now, what do you honestly think of the humans?" she asked the artificer.
"Sir?" Leptis seemed confused. "I gave you my opinion of our guests."
"You gave me an evaluation based on merit. I'd like to know how you feel about the humans muscling in on your turf." She flashed him a brief grin.
"Oh, those pesky humans coming in and taking our jobs!" Djamil smiled back at her. "What on Palaven makes you think I didn't give an honest opinion before?"
"Because I've known you too long. You're not exactly forthcoming, Djamil. That time I was an envoy meeting the dalatrass on Sur'Kesh – I had to wear formal salarian robes. You said I looked striking."
"Yes, you did," Djamil insisted.
"I looked like I'd been shrink-wrapped in a frame tent!"
"A particularly striking frame tent!" Leptis smirked.
"Those suits are not flattering."
"Yeah, but you made it work."
"Thank you." Valni looked sideways at him. "But, forgive me for thinking you have a tendency to obfuscate."
"I prefer to think of it as constructive prevarication," Djamil replied.
"Uh-huh. So, what do you really think of the humans?"
Leptis came to a halt as he considered the question. "Donnelly is extremely conversant with star-ship design. He's remarkably diligent, quick-witted, calm-under-pressure, and articulate to the point of telling him to shut up! A valuable asset to have in a crisis… It's just…"
"Yes?"
"He has an odd sense of humour."
"In what way?"
"It's… peculiar. Kinda reminds me of yours."
"Again, thank you. Women appreciate being compared to strange, hairy aliens!" Valni grinned at the artificer. "And Daniels?" she asked.
"I meant what I said – I wish all our artificers were as knowledgeable. She's astonishing! On her first day she undertook a complete manual diagnostic of our port-side antiproton thruster and identified six separate faults that previous artificers had missed using, what is from her perspective, alien tech."
"You seem impressed."
"I'm stunned. Any chance we can keep her?"
"Alliance Command might complain."
"Offer them four of ours," he suggested. "She's worth that."
Valni folded her arms and regarded Leptis. "Bartering for her probably isn't the best idea. And if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were smitten."
"Good thing you do know me better."
"You joining Antoni and me for drinks tomorrow evening?"
"Sure," he agreed heartily. He turned to head off. "I'll see you later, Chief."
Djamil moved down the corridor as Valni made her way to the exercise room.
Valni loved the smell of a gym. She had done ever since she was young. Her father had encouraged her interest in martial arts, coaxing her, training with her, helping to improve her skills. She adored spending time with him and had fond memories of his kind voice and reassuring laugh. She always associated the smell of a gym with the warmness of his smile – with his memory. And memory was all she had now. It had been three years since his death. She imagined the pain would diminish after such a time, but every so often she would find herself unexpectedly filled with grief, the anguish hitting her like a blow to the lungs, leaving her breathless. It was disconcerting to say the least. She'd wondered if there was something wrong with her, but had been assured by the few professionals she'd visited that this was perfectly normal. She just had to live with it.
Walking into the changing area Valni quickly dressed into her training civvies and took up her favoured spot by the punching bag.
Arcadias' training facilities had only recently been improved. Latest additions included essential repairs to the full size sparring ring, which Valni had appealed to the Captain repeatedly about. It had become a firm favourite of hers, and one she used avidly, until certain recent events meant she had effectively been banned from the ring, and had to settle on training in the gym, except as part of her normal duties. She still felt bitter about that.
The punching bag was dancing on its rope under her blows; Valni enjoyed the way it swung around, allowing her to pivot and sway, constantly changing form. It kept her on her toes. Not as good as training with a real opponent, but she made do.
Out of the corner of her vision she could see a familiar figure moving towards her. Trajan. She groaned inwardly and tried to avoid eye-contact. Trajan and Valni were similar ranks, but where Valni was a seasoned specialist commanding her own detachment, Trajan, as Chief Petty Officer, oversaw the training of new recruits. She had never liked him. He was a bully and constantly harassed the female cadets. He passed it off as 'personal motivation', and although there were no official complaints, she always wondered about the other female officers under his command.
"Hey, Severan. You're looking sharp," he commented as he walked around her. Valni concentrated on her form, trying to drown out the jarring sound of his voice. "A thought crossed my mind," he continued.
"That must have been a long and lonely journey," she muttered.
Trajan walked behind the punching-bag and braced himself against its weight, steadying it against Valni's fierce punches. "I think we should meet up sometime," he insisted, "get to know each other better. After all, we have so much in common. We're both ambitious. We both know what we want."
"I know we're equivalent ranking Officers, Trajan. But your rank… is just plain rank!" The Chief Petty Officer frowned, not fully comprehending the insult. Valni kicked the bag close to his head for emphasis. "I'm a little busy with my duties right now," she added, "got a bit too much on my plate for further distractions."
"I'd gladly help you lick the plate clean."
He grunted as Valni spun and delivered a powerful kick that vibrated through the bag, winding him.
"I have to congratulate you, Trajan. I'm impressed you haven't let your position get in the way of your ineptitude."
"Harsh words, Severan. You don't think I can rise through the Meritocracy?"
"No, I'd like to see you go far. There's a shuttle in Bay Two, you could use that."
She resumed her barrage on the punching-bag, taking great pleasure in imagining Trajan's face on it. He grinned as she pummelled the bag.
"How about we have dinner sometime?"
"I'd rather pass a gizzard stone!"
"Ha! Oh, I do like women with spirit."
"No doubt they prefer to be drunk when they meet you!"
"Alright, Severan," he said, releasing the bag and holding up his hands. "I surrender. I can take a hint. You are a fascinating woman." He dodged as Valni kicked the bag, sending it swinging towards him. "But, you obviously prefer more feminine company."
Valni glared at him as he slunk off, passing Antoni as he made his way out of the gym. "Speaking of which…" Trajan muttered, glancing sidelong at the Marine. Her friend approached, a frown creasing his forehead as he saw her expression.
"What are you looking at?" he asked.
"Just a minor nuisance." Valni nodded towards the Chief Petty Officer.
"Trajan? He causing trouble?"
Valni shook her head. He wasn't worth her time. "No. But he's probably the only man I know who if told to go screw himself, could actually do it!"
Antoni laughed as he took up his position behind the bag. Valni unleashed another series of blows that shook the punching-bag, staggering the Marine behind it. It wasn't fair on Antoni she realised, but somehow her friend had a habit of being on the receiving end of her displeasure.
"You want to tone it down a bit, maybe?"
"Sorry," Valni muttered, easing off slightly.
Valni shouldn't have let Trajan rattle her so much. He was just a pompous, self-satisfied ass. One of the reasons she came to the gym was to unwind from work, let the stresses out. She wanted to relax; forget the new arrivals she'd suddenly been lumbered with in Engineering.
All she needed was a good workout and a restful night's sleep.
The call to General Quarters came after 3am.
Valni was on her feet by the second alarm bell, grabbing the regulation jacket of her uniform and dashing out of her cabin. Emergency lighting lit up the halls, the eerie red glow casting dark shadows over the other crew members who ran hurriedly into the corridor, dressed in underwear and sleeping clothes.
"To your stations!" Valni bellowed.
"Yes, Chief," came the united reply.
Valni was already donning her jacket (trousers were too awkward to be clad during an emergency); the long leggings of her pyjama bottoms complimenting the colour of her top. She zipped up her jacket as she ran, the extra weight of the built-in kinetic shields not slowing her down. Valni made for the stairwell leading to the CIC; she had to find out what was happening.
Suddenly, the Captain's voice sounded over the speakers: "Condition Blue. All crew report to your stations. Condition Blue."
Valni's expression hardened. 'Condition Blue' was a sign of imminent attack. She quickened her pace.
"Grab masks and armour!" she yelled to a group of young recruits milling about in the corridor. The recruits immediately sprang into action, seemingly glad to be told what to do. Soldiers armed themselves, Technicians closed bulkheads and stowed gear in textbook precision. Valni couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at the professional and efficient manner in which the crew handled themselves. It was like a well-oiled machine; there was no sign of any panic and everyone knew where they should be.
She bolted up the stairwell, the talons of her bare feet raking against the metal steps. Bursting into the main corridor to the CIC, Valni pulled up by the entrance and flipped open a section of the wall to reveal a code pad. The door of the CIC glowed red (all vital areas automatically sealed in an emergency); Valni punched in the code to manually open the lock. The doors slid open to reveal the Captain, fully clothed, bending over the main holo-display. Valni ran towards her.
"Orders Captain?" she asked, saluting smartly as she stood to attention.
"Five ships just dropped out from FTL. They're approaching at high speed and not responding to hails. We've identified them as batarian raiding vessels."
"Slavers?" Valni asked.
"Marauders, more likely. They'll try and outflank the ship, then attempt to disable our engines and board us. They won't destroy us. Nothing of value to be had in a crispy wreck!"
"The crew are already preparing to repel boarders, Captain."
"I'd expect nothing less. How are the humans preparing?"
"Haven't seen them, sir. I expect they're at their stations in Engineering."
"Go and check. Make sure their armed, or at the very least awake."
"Yes, sir!"
Valni turned and ran out of the CIC, the sirens still wailing incessantly. She made her way to the Engine Room, hoping that the humans had taken the initiative and got to their posts. She wasn't sure what Alliance protocol was in an emergency. You should know that, she chided herself.
Passing the armoury, Valni shouldered three assault rifles and continued down the stairwell towards the lower decks.
Leptis had already opened the door to Engineering. Valni found him at his station, running the eezo core numbers on the console. The place was a hive of activity; artificers busied themselves checking and rechecking vital systems.
"Status?" she said as she walked up to him.
"All systems nominal. Everyone accounted for and ready for action."
"Have the humans arrived at their posts?" Valni asked him.
"Yes, Chief," he replied. "They were already at the door before I unlocked it."
"We're expecting company. Arm yourselves and guard the main doors," she ordered.
"Yes, Chief." Djamil moved away; he opened the emergency gun cabinet in the corner of the room and began issuing rifles to the other artificers. Valni made her way down to the humans' stations in the Core Monitor.
Daniels and Donnelly were at their consoles. Daniels had managed to put on her uniform – She must have changed into it at record speed – while Donnelly wore a thin Alliance shirt and underwear; evidently he wasn't as quick at dressing as his partner.
"We're about to be attacked," Valni announced without ceremony, raising her voice to be heard above the sirens. "Grab a rifle and defend the Core if you have to."
"Yes sir," Donnelly replied, grabbing the offered weapon. Daniels took the second rifle.
"Who's attacking us?" she asked.
"Aye, it'd be nice to know who to shoot at," Donnelly added.
"Batarians as far as we know," Valni replied. "But if in doubt just shoot the people who are trying to kill you! Have you ever fired the Haliat Thunder before?"
"No ma'am. Just the Ariake Tsunami," Daniels stated.
"The Thunder is very similar. Safety's off. Just point and shoot. Watch the kick-back; it's a bit more aggressive than the Tsunami."
"Aye, aye sir," Donnelly added.
"If we need extra speed to outrun the bastards I think I can give the engines a bit more juice." Daniels shouldered her weapon and turned to her console. "I noticed it yesterday. The power transfer system is running below standard Alliance specifications."
"That's for safety reasons, Daniels," Valni replied.
"Yes ma'am. But in an emergency we could channel the core field bleed back into the eezo capacitors to create a feedback loop and increase the static charge."
"Gabby's right," Donnelly put in. "It would work with the kinetic barrier, too. All we'd need to do is recalibrate the attenuators to a one-hundred per cent duty cycle then bring the main core and kinetic modulators into congruence. It'd give us a few more minutes of protection in a fire-fight."
"You could do that?" Valni asked dubiously. "How long would it take?"
"Just a couple of minutes, ma'am."
It didn't take long for Valni to make a decision. She realised they needed every advantage they could get against an attacker. This was one of the reasons for the Engineering Programme after all: to provoke new ideas and learn from each other.
"Do it!" she ordered. "I'm authorising you. Give us any advantage you can."
"Yes ma'am!" Daniels yelled, turning back to her station with an excited expression on her face. She seemed to be actively enjoying this.
"Hey, Gabby, if the batarians invade do you want me to take your gun and defend the Core?"
"Not likely! If you had gun in both hands it'd be safer to stand right in front of you," Daniels replied.
"I think I'd look daring. Like a movie star – Only poorer."
"Kenneth, the only thing you'd have in common with a movie star is that both of you would be faking it!"
Their heads were bowed, their eyes concentrating on the data scrolling across their screens. The banter didn't seem to slow them down; if anything it improved their output. Valni smiled at the efficiency, and indeed, the eloquence of the pair.
The Liaison Officer was startled from her thoughts when the alarm stopped abruptly, the familiar hum of the eezo core suddenly thrown into sharp relief. After a few seconds the Captain's voice sounded over the speakers:
"All stations report condition of readiness." Valni made her way over to the communications station as the Captain listed the various departments.
"Gunnery."
"Ready, Captain," came the reply over the intercom.
"Magazine."
"Ready."
"Navigation."
"Ready."
"Communications."
"We're ready, Captain."
"Medical."
"Ready, sir."
"Engine Room."
"Ready, Captain," Valni replied through the comm.
Emergency lighting went out, to be replaced by the cooling blue-white illumination of standard operations.
"All stations stand down," the Captain intoned. "Condition normal, I repeat: Condition normal. Resume standard shifts. Senior officers log reports on service personnel. Full debrief for duty officers at zero-eight-hundred." Then, presumably feeling that some sort of recognition was in order, she added: "Good job, people."
"That was a drill?" Gabriella asked incredulously.
"The Captain knows how to get our attention," Kenneth added. "That was one hell of a wakeup call!"
Valni flicked the safety on her weapon and collapsed it, holstering it onto the back of her jacket. "To be an effective drill, the crew has to think it's real. That's the best way to assess how they'd handle a genuine emergency." She unzipped her jacket, grateful for the opportunity to ease the stifling material.
Kenneth collapsed his rifle and then glanced up at her, his eyes lowering to take in the distinctive illustration on Valni's undershirt. A mischievous grin spread across his face.
"Is that a baby krogan?" he asked, pointing at her shirt.
Valni looked down at her PJ's. The smiling, lively face of 'Krogi the Whelp'™, rolling happily on his back, grinned up at her.
She looked back at him. "They were a gift," she replied. Her mother had bought them for her. "They're very comfortable," she added, sounding more defensive than she'd meant.
"It's very nice," Gabriella assured her. "I like the pattern. Do they make them for humans?"
"I'm not sure mocking the ranking officer is a wise career move," Valni teased, folding her arms.
"I'm not, honestly – It's a cute picture. I'd like to get one."
Valni grudgingly relented. "The brand's called 'Hello Krogi'. You can get them from Chasm or TopQuad on the Citadel – So I've heard," she added hastily.
"I'm just glad someone has a sense of style," Gabriella stated before turning to her colleague. "And that Kenneth actually put some clothes on for once."
"Didn't think I should be scuddy running around the ship, Gabby," Kenneth said with a wide grin, "wouldn't want to make the new crew jealous." He noted their expressions, before clarifying: "I like to sleep in the nude."
"That's more than I needed to know!" Valni muttered.
"Well, that was all very exciting but frankly I'm famished," Kenneth stated firmly.
"It's three-thirty in the morning!" Gabriella protested.
"I've got a five-am shift. No point going to back to bed now, girl."
"Well, I'm going to get some shut-eye," Gabriella insisted.
Djamil wandered down the stairwell. "Permission to return to sleep, Chief?" he asked.
"Granted," Valni said wryly. "Daniels and Leptis head on back to your quarters. Donnelly, the messdeck will most likely be closed but I'll get one of the catering staff to serve us something."
"Us?" Kenneth asked.
"Yeah, I've got an evaluation to write and an 8am debrief. Might as well get a bite to eat. Leptis, stow the guns away. I'll return mine to the armoury later."
"Yes Chief." Djamil retrieved the two assault rifles from Donnelly and Daniels before placing them in the gun cabinet. Gabriella, Djamil and the rest of the staff wandered back to their own beds while Valni and Donnelly made their way to the Open Mess. Valni caught one of the catering staff as he was about to lock the doors, asking him to retrieve a levo-amino ration from supply.
Having been served by the slightly sullen staff, the pair sat opposite each other in the empty hall, eating quietly. Kenneth was the first to break the silence.
"So, I noticed Leptis calls you 'Chief'. But being an LNO I wouldn't expect you to have that title. Is that something unique to the Meritocracy?" he asked.
"Hierarchy ranks are fairly similar to the Alliance. But, my current title is more symbolic. My technical rank is Chief Warrant Officer."
Kenneth was impressed. "Well, you definitely out rank me and Gabby," he stated. "How'd you become 'Liaison Officer'?"
Valni glanced down at her tray, shifting uneasily in her seat. "I had a little disagreement with the Captain," she admitted.
"A row?"
"No, I knocked her on her ass!"
"I'm surprised you didn't get court-martialled."
"Well, she asked me to try and knock her on her ass. She just didn't expect that I could."
"Turians do things differently, don't they?" Kenneth noted, a little confused by it all.
The pair lapsed into silence while they chewed their breakfast until Valni finally voiced something that had been bothering her.
"So, what is it with the hair on your face?"
"My beard? Do you like it?"
"It's different. I can sort of understand the hair on your head, but why the face too?"
"Personal choice. It makes me look dashing." He flashed his most debonair smile, which was completely lost on the turian. "And the ladies love a goatee," he insisted.
Valni tilted her head, assessing his claim. "If you say so." A thought occurred to her. "Gabriella must not like a 'goatee'. I notice she doesn't have one."
Kenneth's furrowed his brow. "Human women don't grow beards," he replied steadily. "Well, most of them don't."
"Oh," Valni uttered quietly.
"I thought you'd know about this stuff, being Liaison Officer."
"It's the job I was allocated," she conceded, "I didn't say I was any good at it! Hand-to-hand fighting is more my thing."
"That's your expertise?"
"It's why I was promoted." And punished, she added silently. "I'm a combat specialist assigned to train detachments in six major forms of martial art."
Kenneth's eyes widened in surprise. "Remind me never to piss you off."
Valni grinned and took a bite of her food.
A short, low whistle escaped the human's lips. "Six different martial arts," he repeated. "So, you probably know at least fifty ways to kill me! How many of my bones could you break?"
Valni shrugged. "How many you got?" she asked with her mouth full.
"I must confess: I'm not that adept at combat. I've been in a few barnies, but my skills as a soldier are a wee bit lacking."
"Even with a rifle?" she asked incredulously.
"I've had training, certainly. But, the instructors confiscated my gun after I tried to make some adjustments to the rifle and the barrel flew off!"
Valni laughed, almost spitting her food over Kenneth. "I'm sorry." She swallowed carefully, suddenly feeling guilty. "But, I would've loved to have seen that."
Kenneth grinned. "It's on the extranet somewhere. You'll probably find it next to the training footage of me blowing up a drone Alliance Mako with a rocket launcher."
Valni was still smirking. "You hit something. Surely that's an improvement?"
"I was aiming at the dropship."
Valni covered her mouth as her laughter echoed around the mess. Kenneth gently chuckled along with her. Eventually, she recovered enough to talk normally again and they started gossiping about their ships.
She hadn't expected to get on so well with the human. He was easy-going; talked to her like an old friend; didn't judge her for her looks; and despite the fact he lacked the darker carapace she usually found attractive, she thought he looked kind-of-cute in an odd pinky-white sort of way. She also liked his accent. It was different from Gabriella's; somehow his voice was more… soothing.
They chatted for a further hour before Kenneth had to begin his shift. Valni walked him out of the Mess Hall and watched as he sauntered back to his own cabin. That was an eye-opening meal! She returned to the privacy of her quarters and immediately logged on to the extranet. Not to search for his infamous training footage, but to read up on human psychology. Something you should have done long ago, she reminded herself. Her search narrowed to male-centric behaviour and by zero-six-hundred she found herself scrutinizing the numerous romantic customs of Earth. Focusing on Kenneth's home country of Scotland, she typed in 'Culture', and was suddenly bombarded by myriad alien concepts: Kilts! Bagpipes! Scotch! Hogmanay! Ceilidhs! Shinty! Golf! Cabers! Haggis! What's haggis? – Oh, Spirits! That's what haggis is?!
Valni sat back and stared into space, trying to absorb this glut of new information. She felt somewhat overwhelmed by it all. But, also intrigued. And excited. She had never entertained the possibility of finding a non-turian attractive, but Kenneth was unlike anyone she had met. He was charming to be around, had nice eyes, a pleasant smell, and he was funny – In every sense of the word. She hadn't had such an enjoyable conversation in a long time. A smile graced her lips. The sound of his mellow voice was still playing in her mind.
Bottom line: She was interested.