"Hurry it up, Whitefield", Kylon waved a lanky appendage at his sluggish crewmate. "I thought your species knew the true value of time".
Whitefield was grateful for the salarian's paranoia. Despite the fragrant, salty air of the planet, Kylon insisted on wearing his most expensive environmental suit. The salarian's hideously amphibious features were securely encased within the spacious confines of his bulbous opaque helmet. Unfortunately for Whitefield, the airtight suit did nothing to dampen the sound of the pilot's incessant slurs.
"Time is not against us, Kylon" Vorus observed, spiky head shaking freely in the afternoon sun. Whitefield found the planet's azure seas and golden beaches to be incredibly beautiful. Once word got out, this world was sure to become a hit with vacationing tourists. "And why are you wearing that ridiculous thing? The sunlight is only a mild nuisance. Any other turian would laugh you off-planet".
"I am aware of the atmospheric conditions, Captain", Kylon reminded the turian. "I was the one who reported them to you, as you'll no doubt recall. I am merely exercising reasonable precautions. I am not eager to set all my eggs in one side of the nest, so to speak".
"I wasn't aware that we were in a nest", the captain observed, coarse granules of sand crunching beneath the treads of his well-worn military boots.
"Oh, but there is always a nest, Vorus", Kylon answered. "Our only hope is that we do not incur the wrath of the mother".
Charles Whitefield suppressed a chuckle. He wondered if all salarians were content to lead such a dull and fearful existence.
Kylon halted.
"What is it?" Vorus asked, descending the beach slope with Whitefield at his side.
"Not sure".
"Did you see something?" Whitefield asked.
"Yes", the salarian answered curtly.
"What was it?" the captain pressed his pilot for information.
"I don't know", whimpered the once arrogant salarian. "Something out there. In the water".
Whitefield was not fearless, but he was curious. He trotted down the beach. The skies were empty and blue, save for wispy streaks of cloud formations. The water stretched out to the horizon without interruption. An endless sea.
The human glanced back at his silent crewmates, to be sure they were still with him.
"Get back here, Whitefield", Vorus commanded. "We're not equipped for marine exploration".
"So what?" Whitefield shrugged. "These suits can hold up to plenty of crap. I don't think a little salty water's going to make any difference. You said the water was fine, right? Kylon?"
The black bubble helmet nodded without words.
"There, see? If the water's fine, I say step on in" Whitefield took nine hesitant steps down the beach. When damp sand caked around his boots, the captain reprimanded him.
"There are regulations against this sort of behavior, Whitefield", Vorus warned the human, baritone cutting swiftly through the salty breeze. "I don't care how inquisitive you are. I am your captain. You will follow my lead."
Whitefield sighed.
"I thought you said the oceans were empty, Kylon", the turian whispered his accusations to keep the human from hearing.
"I said they probably wouldn't support much organic life, Vorus" the salarian snapped rudely at his captain. "That doesn't mean they're empty, and it certainly doesn't make them safe enough for a mid-day splash fest!"
The salarian craned his neck toward the water. It was a reflective veil that gave no indicator of what monstrosities lurked below.
"Just get back here, alright?" Kylon hollered at his crewmate, high voice now wavering with fear. "We can always study the water later".
"Fine", the human yielded to the pleas of his companions.
Before he could turn away from the endless sea, Whitefield heard a splash. It sounded close.
"Whitefield!" the captain barked, to no avail.
Silence.
The human stood alone at the water's edge, peering into the aquatic abyss. He held his breath, as if expecting the ocean to pull him underwater, yet the tide merely foamed harmlessly around his ankles.
A round object bobbed to the surface. It was a solid blue, and smoother than the surrounding choppy waters. Hot human blood ran cold when Whitefield saw the tapering tentacles gathered at the far side of the domed carapace.
It lifted from the waters, revealing a pair of white orbs.
Whitefield instantly recognized the creature as an asari. It was looking right at him.