What Friends Are For
The space elevator was fun, but it lacked windows for a view so it got old pretty quick once the momentum died. A swift march through the air-lock and suddenly we were aboard the SSV Strata without realizing it. After finding our seats and strapping in, I take a moment to study the relatively new ship in the First Fleet. It had all the modern creature-comforts: hard metal seats with no support, abrasive nylon harnesses that were too tight around the crotch, that dull gun-metal gray interior that everyone loved. The only thing I really noticed that wasn't standard was the glass flooring that allowed the viewing of some damn pipes and wires below the surface. It was a nice change from the metal grating I had seen in training ships.
The ship personnel were all busy making sure we were restrained and our gear was secured and ready for launch. A few warrant officers were walking around checking us and giving orders to the ensigns. It was slightly unnerving to see them suited up in full armor and life support. I suppose it would be like seeing a select few on a submarine wearing full diving gear while everyone else is in their navy whites. The thought of drowning was scary enough, but getting spaced absolutely freaked me out. Ever since the training sims, I had been having nightmares about it. Falling, floating, unable to breathe or swim to safety, totally fucked…. My mouth starts to get a little dry and I lick my chops.
"You all right, JJ?" Riley asks from my right.
"Yeah," I say and swallow hard. "I was just wondering why we're not all in life support for this."
"Heh…you look like you're gonna toss it," Cesar remarks at my left. "Don't worry about it, though. This is a cruiser. Not even Sovereign could take it down in one hit."
"Yeah, it'd take two," says Riley, smiling. I shake my head and brush it off. At the same time the ship shudders to life as the mass effect core powers up. The intercom whistle sounds and a VI lets everyone know we're away. Five hours. I check my watch and set it to elapsed time.
Time. Everyone thought space travel, particularly FTL travel would screw around with us. We'd travel into the future, they said. Well, they were only partially correct it turns out. It ended up not really making a difference planet-to-planet, because as soon as we'd travel forward in time, we'd travel back in time when the FTL kicked in. Still, it sometimes made for a social faux pas back home.
Sensing the long haul, I reach down into my pack and pull out some of my favorite reading material and flip to where I left off last.
"Oh, look at that. Already has the pad out. We that boring, JJ?" Riley teases. I look up and sigh. They always gave me shit about it.
"Whatcha got there, Corporal?" Cesar asks with a smirk while reaching up to grab the PDA. I try to swipe it back, but he pulls it away into the guy next to him, who says nothing but gives a dirty look. Cesar clears his throat and begins to read aloud so everyone can hear him. "Khelish: A Guide to Quarian Language and Modern History, with Analysis of the Geth. Well, well, well." He hands it back, grinning ear to ear.
"Thanks, Ceeze," I say, drolly.
"What the fuck?" Riley asks, rhetorically. I answer anyway.
"It's just something I've found interesting."
"You like the buckets or something?" Riley interrogates me.
"They're not buckets, jackass" I say, losing my cool. "They've just been dealt a bad hand." I should admit my defense of the quarians was a mistake around these guys, because it only gave them something to chase. Riley reels back like I've just struck him in the chest with a ferrous slug.
"Ow. Looks like we may have hit a nerve, Ceeze," he says.
"Whatever," I say, trying to dismiss them.
"I thought you were into Hanar," Cesar asks almost honestly.
"Just shut the fuck up, both of you," I command.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Riley says then looks at Cesar. "I think we need to have an intervention." Shit. Cesar sits up and puts a concerned look on his face.
"JJ, you know you can't screw a quarian chick. You don't even know if they have pussies." By the end of his sentence he was slapping his knee, laughing while a few other marines were looking on, confused.
"Yeah," I agree angrily. "On top of that, they'd die if they got out of their suits. Jesus, guys, just lay off."
"That's right, they live in bubbles," Riley realizes, faking disappointment. "I think I get it, Ceeze. The Corporal wants what he can't have."
"Nah, I think he just wants something that's pure and untouched," Cesar disagrees, happily, and then looks at me mischievously. "You know, JJ, it could get messy. Taking the virginity of an alien? You got cajones, man." I nearly stand up, but quickly feel the pressure of my harness.
"Okay, enough. Keep it up and I'll throw both of you dipshits out the airlock."
"All right, all right. Just let me get my coat," Cesar says and leans back against his seat. Riley has his head in his hand, laughing so hard he can't make a sound. I decide to flip back to my PDA and begin to read. It doesn't take long before I realize the whole bench across the isle is staring at me. I look up, checking rank first.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" I ask, menacingly. The row of eyes divert.
Quarians were the Gypsy analogue of the galaxy, basically. The creation of the Geth had ruined their reputation and the galaxy continued to shovel shit their way for the last 300 years. Personally I felt this was an injustice, though I could understand the reasons. The Geth had killed millions. But punishing the decedents of those who created them was both morally and ethically wrong, not to mention illogical and redundant. Whatever their ancestors had done, there was no point in taking it out on the living. After all, the Geth have been fighting the quarians longer than any other race. You would think that would be punishment enough. But no, they were still second-class citizens these days. Not even the knowledge that a quarian had been in Shepard's team that defeated Saren was enough to sway public opinion.
What was her name? Tolly…Talc? Something-Zorah. Just like the fish people in Zelda. I flip to the index of my "book". Tali! That was it. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Child of the Rayya. Thumbing over the pages, I find the article concerning her involvement in the Geth attack. Apparently she was critical in the defeat of Saren, and was among those that had fought him alongside Shepard. Reading the article, I realize there isn't much there. It basically just stated she was on her Pilgrimage when Shepard had recruited her for her tech skills. I found it somewhat odd that Shepard would do that, given the nature of his mission as a Spectre.
Quarians were delicate. A single rupture to their environmental suits could kill them in a matter of minutes. It made me glad to be human, honestly. Even so, I couldn't deny there was a lure, a twisted infatuation that everyone seemed to have about quarians. Well, every guy, anyway. Physically they were outwardly very similar to humans, and their females did exhibit traits desired by human males of human females. Despite the three fingered hands and odd bird-like feet, quarian females were h-a-w-t- hot, even when their faces were a mystery.
No human had ever seen a quarian's face. No one knew if they had hair, scales, feathers, or some crossover on their heads. It was reasonable to assume that their bodies were bare, given the snugness of their suits. But the quarians kept all that information to themselves for security reasons. I had heard a rumor going around that Commander Shepard and this Tali chick were an item, but no one knew if anything had happened between them. I seriously doubted it. It was simply too risky. So it was probably still true that no humans had seen a quarian face. It was kind of sad.
Shrugging and getting my mind back on topic, I tab back over to my vocabulary section. Vocab was the hardest part of learning a language. Grammar came easy for me, as it all was a set pattern that repeated. But every word was a different ensemble of sounds, and every one required memorization. There was no one to grade me, but I strongly considered myself a novice at this point.
Foreign language requirements were practically nonexistent these days, what with our translators. However, we all knew the devices could fail, so it was strongly encouraged by our platoon sergeants to pick up a different, non-Earth language. Most of the guys chose Asari for obvious reasons. There were a few assholes who thought they'd learn Krogan, but it turned out they didn't have the vocal cords for that. Same went for the Drell language. And Hanar, well…they didn't really make sounds amongst themselves, nor did the Elcor. So we were left with Asari, Turian, Volus, and Quarian languages to choose from. I was the only one to choose Khellish in our company, as far as I knew.
I tap a word to listen to its pronunciation in my earpiece. Vro-mal-ghin. To dance. I say it out loud a few times to get the annunciation right. Vromalghin. Khan-ishvu vromalghin? I practice the phrase a few times before the inevitable happens.
"Did you just ask me to help you rub one out?" Cesar exclaims over the entire platoon. I sigh. This was going to be a long trip.