8/29/2211
Ria wandered aimlessly in a shapeless void.
Everything was silent.
Still.
Dark.
A breeze rushed through the black emptiness, its icy fingers chilling her to the bone. The scene shifted, becoming barren waste of cracked gray earth now. Fog hung like a shroud of over the landscape, obscuring everything in its ethereal haze.
In the distance she could see the silhouettes of a man against the mist. Dread seized her at the sight, yet, as if controlled by a will that was not her own she found herself drawn closer to the shape.
Feet away now, the mists shifted, revealing the pale dead face of a man in bone white armor. Letting out a cry of alarm, Ria staggered back, shaking when she recognized him as the first person she'd been forced to kill.
More figures materialized before her. The Cerberus troops she'd fought on Horizon. Each bore the fatal wounds she had dealt them, blood dripping in pools that watered the parched earth.
Panic took hold of her. She ran, fleeing from the dead's accusing gaze. With each step more figures rose up before her. At first they were all Cerberus, all men and women she'd fought during her mission to find the Darkforge. Soon, however, they were joined by others: the slavers she'd encountered during her Spectre training; the man she'd watched commit suicide; the security guards at the ExoGeni building; the assassins that had attacked Dad and her, and the Crimson Ghost merc she'd killed on Alkimos.Nearly a hundred faces stared at her with empty, dead eyes, accusing her with their gaze.
Tripping, she fell to the ground. Wracked by fear and painful guilt, she could only watch as they closed in around her. Whispering voices rose up, their voices echoing unnaturally from dead lips.
"You killed us."
"It was you."
"You murdered us"
"Gah!"
A choked cry escaped from Ria's throat as she sprang up, sheets flying in flurry of tangled linen. She flailed at the ghostly faces peering out of the darkness, desperate to escape their accusing gaze. In her panic she tumbled over the side of her bed, her shoulder and head hitting the floor with a dull thunk. Dazed, she scrambled to get her feet under her, clawing frantically at the air. Staggering back she she pressed her back against a bulkhead, preparing to defend herself against the advancing spirits of the dead.
Then, all at once, she remembered where she was. It was her room, on the Invisible. Safe. Far away from the terrors of battle and killing to preserve her own existence.
She sagged against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. At once she began to tremble, the aftershock of fear and adrenaline took its toll. Even now she still saw the faces of the men and women she'd killed as clear as life, a manifestation of guilt for each and every life she'd snuffed out.
Why won't they leave me alone?
During her fight against Cerberus, she hadn't had time to think about all the killing she'd done. There had been a hundred other things for her to worry about then. It wasn't until afterward, during her spectre training, that she'd had a chance to dwell on it.
That's when the dreams started ….
How many now? How many have I sent to their graves? A hundred? More? Her vision blurred, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
Staggering away from the bulkhead, Ria managed only a few steps before her legs buckled. Landing face first, tremors shook through her shoulders. Tears flowed freely now, running In rivulets down her face to stain the floor.
What did I do to deserve this? I did what I had too, and that's that. They were bad people, terrorists, criminals, mercenaries, they deserved to die! Ria told herself, fighting back sobs. A soldier doesn't feel like this, a Spectre doesn't cry, or tremble, or shy away from doing what had to has to be done. I'm not a hero, I'm weak. A child.
"It wasn't my fault. I did what I had to," she said out loud through broken sobs, speaking to the ghostly visages that refused to depart from her mind's eye. "You gave me no choice, I didn't want to kill you. It was that or let others die. I did what I had to do!"
No answer was forthcoming as she lay there, her sobs filling the room. At that moment she was glad the noise couldn't pierce the ship's walls; glad that no one would hear how weak she really was.
. . . . .
The 'morning' of the ship's sleep cycle dawned after a long, restless night plagued with the phantasmal visages that haunted Ria's sleep. Eager to distract herself from dwelling on the morbid turn her dreams had taken her, Ria joined Tarran and Laura for a sparring session down in the cargo bay. For hours they took it in turns to pair off in the ring of mats her friends had set up.
Gasping for air after a particularly heated bout against Laura, Ria leaned against one of the crates that had been placed around the arena to serve as a makeshift guardrail.
"You feeling alright? You seemed a bit sluggish during a few points back there," Laura asked between her own ragged breaths.
"Just been a bit distracted lately, nothing to talk about," Ria lied. She ignored the nagging voice in the back of her head that told her she should just tell them what was bothering her. That they'd understand. That they could help. I can't, she thought in argument to the voice, gritting her teeth. The last thing they need is to worry about me right now. I'm their captain …. I need to appear stronger than that, for their sakes.
Laura nodded in reply, not pressing the matter
Ria hopped over the encircling barrier, grabbing her water bottle from the top of a stack of boxes. Inserting its tip into a port in the bottom of her helmet, she gulped down several mouthfuls before setting it aside. "Right, Tarran, you're up," Ria said, plopping down on the crate next to him.
"Oh good, time to get my ass kicked by Laura. Huzzah." Tarran groaned. The dryness of his tone made it impossible for Ria to mistake her friend's opinion of how the next bout would turn out. The turian dropped down from his seat, moving to stand opposite of the human woman.
"You scared, Vakarian?" Laura teased, her lips twisting into a smirk.
"Only because someone keeps forgetting we're supposed to be practicing and should pull her punches." Tarran rubbed a spot on his abdomen, likely one of the punches that failed to be pulled.
"I am pulling my punches. Not my fault you're so delicate."
"You're just jealous I'm a better shot than you."
"Not if I break your arm."
Shaking her head, Ria leaned back, watching as their sparring match began in earnest.
Besides the three of them, the cargo bay was empty save for Daron, who lay with his back against a crate near the far end of the room. He'd watched their sparring for awhile after it had begun, though had at some point lost interest and was now absently levitating one of the smaller boxes a few feet into the air.
The hiss of elevator doors opening alerted Ria to a new arrival. Turning her head, she saw her father entering the bay. Waving to him, Ria shuffled over, clearing room for him to sit.
"Hows the sparring going?" He asked.
"As well as it could go. Mostly Tarran complaining about Laura's being better at hand-to-hand than him."
"So the usual?"
"The usual." Ria chuckled in agreement. "Some things never change."
"No doubt." A smile tugged at the corners of her father's lips as he spoke.
For a moment they sat in silence, watching Tarran and Laura's match until he spoke again.
"Any particular reason Daron hasn't joined you guys?" her father asked, motioning with his chin towards where the mercenary say away from the rest of the group.
"Daron is… not exactly the most sociable sort. He was a mercenary before he joined us, mostly worked on his own. Still don't think he's that used to being part of a team, not yet anyway." Ria shrugged, concluding her answer.
"So how'd he end up joining with you guys anyway?"
"Cerberus has our thanks for that. He had a bit of a history with them, he was only four or five during the Reaper War, ended up in Sanctuary. From what little he's told me, Cerberus experimented on him once they found out he was a biotic, until that place was shut down. Neither he nor us are sure why Cerberus wanted him specifically after all these years though. They tried to capture him back on Omega," Ria explained.
What she was careful not to mention was that a surviving group of Cerberus scientists had experimented on him and several others years following the war. That they'd implanted him with Reaper tech that granted him his unnaturally powerful biotic abilities. That it was the same type of enhancements that had given the Cerberus assassin Ghost his abilities.
Ria wasn't sure how her father would react if he found out, but she suspected it wouldn't be good. The Reapers, or anything to do with them, were among the few things that could get her father worked up. For good reason too. Besides, Daron had trusted her enough to reveal that part of his past, something she'd gathered that he hadn't done before or since.. Who was she to even consider breaching that trust.
"Still, even though he can be an ass at times, he's still one of us, you know?" Ria continued, shrugging again. Falling silent she picked up her water bottle, taking another drink.
"So, anything going between you two?"
Ria bolted upright, spraying a mouthful of water onto the inside of her mask. Coughing and spluttering, she struggled to form words. "What!? I … why are you even… what!?"
Her father laughed. "I was just curious. Though, from your reaction I'd say that I wasn't too far—"
"Keelah, no. I was just… surprised, is all," Ria stammered. She was grateful she had her mask on then, knowing full well her burning cheeks were crimson red with embarrassment. Ria glanced over her shoulder, checking to make sure the mercenary hadn't overheard. Taking a breath, Ria spoke again, this time managing to form words without stuttering. "Honestly, we're just friends. I don't exactly think hes really 'my type'."
"Do you even know what your type is, Ria? I never saw you show any interest in that sort of thing growing up. Well, besides that time your mother found that folder on your omni-tool filled with—"
"Dad!" Ria exclaimed, swatting him hard on the arm. Her face flushed furiously behind her mask, for which see was glad. "Ancestors, its like you're going out of your way to embarrass me."
"Yeah, part of the contract I had to sign when I became a father. Right next to the clause requiring me to be "disapproving and overprotective" when it comes to whoever you date." He laughed again.
"Honestly, dad? I haven't really had much of a chance to … worry … about that sort of thing. I've been too busy trying to not screw up and keep everyone else alive to concern myself with … well, romance," she replied, again feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment.
"Well in that case, I can help you out. Like, why not you and Tarran, I think your mom and Garrus have been both secretly hoping you two would hook up."
"Dad..."
"Or why not Kel, he seems—"
"Dad!" Ria shouted, finally managing to interrupt him. "Can … can we please talk about something else?"
"Okay, okay. Was just giving you a hard time," her father conceded, holding out both hands in mock surrender.
Nodding, Ria turned back to the ongoing sparring match between Tarran and Laura. A minute ticked by in silence between them, her attention along with her dad's held for a moment by the combat unfolding before them.
"Heh," her father's voice cut in then, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Ria glanced in his direction quizzically. "Watching them spar brings me back. All those hours you insisted on training with me." He smiled wistfully before continuing. "Just to think, that little girl who was so eager to be just like her dad is sitting here now, all grown up. And a Spectre to boot."
"Yeah." Ria smiled behind her mask, her father's words bringing back memories of countless hours spent practicing back home. The laughter and voices echoing through her home. The warm desert breeze wafting through an open window on a summer evening eight years ago …..
. . . . .
Glittering light from the setting sun streamed in through the window, casting a shifting pattern of brilliance on the ceiling. The light danced in time with the ocean's gentle movement, lending the world a calming glow. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt mixed with the sweet fragrance of the house's garden.
Ria drew in a deep, long breath, savoring the smell with unmasked senses. The breeze cooled her skin, soothing the burning ache of exhaustion that clung to her every move.
"Come on Ria, focus!" her father said, snapping Ria's attention back to the present. Yelping in surprise, Ria barely had time to smack away the next attack as her father lunged in close, her hand stinging from the knives' impact.
"Hey, no fair! I wasn't ready!" Ria laughed. Letting her weight shift to her back foot, she slipped into a fighting stance, making sure this time we was ready for the next attack.
"Which is why I attacked then. Come on, Ria, get with the program." He chuckled, his mouth twisting into a overconfident smirk.
"Could at least give me a break. I'm not a robot like you."
"Ouch, that hurts," He gave an exaggerated gasp, clutching his heart melodramatically. Then without warning he struck again, forcing her to duck under an arcing slash.
"What? Nothing? Not even a little off guard?"
"Dad, if you're going to guilt trip me, at least make it convincing. You're really bad at it." Ria laughed, its sound joining the clatter of wooden blades as the fight resumed in earnest.
"It was worth a shot," her father replied. Without warning he stepped in again, launching another barrage of attacks.
Ria smiled too, bringing her weapon to intercept the attack. She knew, of course, that she could not match her father's cybernetically augmented abilities. He was simply too fast and strong for her to overpower head on, nor did she have the endurance to outlast him should the fight drag on.
No, instead Ria chose to rely on small, quick motion. The strategy was one of economy of motion, smaller movements fast enough to keep pace with her opponent, while still burning as little energy as possible. While little more than a delaying action, it would allow her to match her father's augmented abilities.
Shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, Ria worked her blade in front of her as he father launched a flurry of a strikes. Never did she attempt to halt or deflect an incoming attack, instead merely altering its course just enough so she needed to take no more than a half step to avoid it.
Stepping in close, he thrust his knife at her left in two lightning quick jabs. Intercepting both blows, Ria was caught of guard as on the second her arms was suddenly forced aside, her father altering the course of his lunging stab with a flick of a wrist. Darting to the right, he slashed at her exposed left, only to alter its course to whirl around in a blur of preternatural speed to hack at her left again.
Ria recognized this tactic as one he'd used in their previous sparing matches, utilizing his cybernetically augmented speed to compensate for unpredictable feints that would otherwise have left him wide open. She remembered all too well how this strategy had lead to a swift end to their last match, along with a stinging bruise on her left arm.
This time, though, she was ready for him. When his attack came in on her left, Ria only made a show of moving to block it, so that when he reversed back strike at her own blade was already there to intercept. As their blades connected, Ria felt a lack of force behind his arm, realizing with a start that he'd overextended himself too much during the feint. Then, with a flick of her blade tore the weapon from his grasp.
Ria laughed, unable to control her excitement. For the first time she'd done it! She'd outsmarted him, leaving him wide open for an attack. If she marked him now it'd mean she'd won! She lunged, training knife darting for the final attack.
In a blur of motion her father regained his balance, far quicker than he should have, even with his augmentations. His open palm struck the inside of her arm, forcing it out wide, her blow missing his shoulder by a hair's breath. Before she could react he shoved at her arm and shoulder, pushing her off balance so she staggered back.
Ria yelped, cursing inwardly. She'd overextend herself, if she'd been more careful she wouldn't have left been in a position to be thrown off balance like this. A sweeping kick knocked her legs out from under her, sending her falling back to the ground hard. Her vision flashed with stars, then the next thing she knew her father as kneeling over her, wooden training knife pressed against her neck.
She'd lost. Again.
"Alright, alright, you win," Ria said, gasping for air.. She coughed, finding it difficult to refill her lungs.
Lowering his wooden training knife, her father smiled. Extending a hand he helped her to her feet. "That was some clever thinking there, if a bit reckless. If you were a coupled seconds quicker, you would have had me there."
"But I wasn't 'a few seconds quicker', I still lose like I always do." Ria crossed her arms, slumping down against the railing surrounding the sparring arena.
"Come on Ria, you're fifteen years old," her father assured her gently. He kneeled down next to her. "I've been doing this sort of thing since long before you were born. You'll get there someday, and then it'll be you who's kicking my ass."
"Do you really mean that?" Ria asked, looking up at her father's warm smile.
"Why wouldn't I? You're a Shepard after all. Fighting things is generally one of the things we're really good at. That and causing property damage."
Ria laughed, expelling the last of the self-doubt she'd felt moments before. "That and getting ourselves into trouble. That we do better than anyone else."
. . . . .
A loud thud . Turning her attention back to the sparring arena, Ria saw that Laura had managed to flip Tarran, and was now crouched on the turian's back, pinning him to the group.
"You win, alright, just, ah, quit twisting my arm that much," Tarran said. Or atleast, thats what Ria thought he said. He'd sounded barely more coherent than if he'd been mumbling, his voice muffled as a result of his face being firmly pressed again mat.
Laura twisted his arm a bit more before releasing him. Standing, Laura wore a wide, smirking grin on her face. "Looks like I win again. Up for round two?"
"I'd rather not." Tarran groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "I mean, besides, I learned a lot just now. I never knew you wanted to be on top of me, Alenko."
"Not even in your messed up fantasies, Vakarian," Laura replied, sticking out her tongue in exaggerated disgust.
"I'd have to agree with Laura, here." Ria laughed, shaking her head with amusement. "That's one relationship that can only end in catastrophe. Someone will end up dead by the time the inevitable break up comes around."
"True enough. And since I am far too good looking to die, its probably best we avoid that, for Laura's sake," Tarran replied, his mandibles spreading in the turian equivalent of a smirk.
Tarran winced as Laura punched him in the arm again. "Careful Vakarian, don't make me put that theory to the test. Otherwise we might end up with a very dead turian stinking up the ship."
"You're no fun," Tarran said. Groaning his rubbed his battered arm. "So, I guess its our turn again, Ria. Despite my better judgment, I'm up for another round if you are."
"Sure, bring it on Vakarian." Ria grinned, hopping down from the crate. "Just don't think I'll go easy on you because you're still sore from Laura kicking your ass."
. . . . .
Following another short bout between herself and, along with more bellyaching on the turian's part, the practice session came to a close. After cleaning up the makeshift ring, they began filing out, heading off to begin their individual duties on the ship.
Lagging behind, Ria was alone when a voice called out to her.
"Ria, you have a minute?"
With a jolt she spun around, her yelp of surprise fading into a sigh of relief as her eyes fell on the source of the voice.
"Keelah, Daron, I forgot you were still here." Ria breathed. The frantic beat of her heart slowed to normal its normal rhythm, shaking of the last aftershocks of surprise. "What's up?"
Coming to a stop before her, Daron crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded her. Gazing into his face, Ria thought she saw a flicker of indecision in his eyes, though she could not be sure, so impassive was his expression. For a moment he stood there silently. Then, sighing, he spoke.
"We're wasting our time."
The bluntness of his statement struck Ria like a physical force. Her mind reeled from the impact, sluggishly respond.
"What do you mean? With what?" Ria at last managed, the words rolling clumsily from her tongue.
"The mission. We're going about this the wrong way," Daron explained. He sighed in another exhale of breath, the sound managing to sound at once both annoyed and indecisive. "The way I see it the only way we'll solve this quickly is go to the Council and get answers. No matter what reason, they're keeping the answers we need. We have no idea what Project Winter is, which leaves us not even knowing what our enemies are after. We're chasing ghosts, wasting time stumbling in the dark."
"So what exactly am I supposed to do, go to the Citadel and ask them if they'll 'pretty please' tell me whats going on?" Ria asked, a spark of anger flicking in her chest. "News flash, Daron, I've already tried getting answers from them. It didn't work."
"I never said ask. So far all we've accomplished is scrounging up scraps of anything related to the project. The council certainly have records that have the answers we need. If they won't give us answers, we might as well take them."
"Oh sure, that's such a perfect plan. I'm not exactly in the position to get on the Council's bad side. Don't you recall the conditions of my Spectre status, that it can be revoked in an instant!?"
The spark ignited into a full flame now, a burning heat rushing to her face. Didn't he realize she'd already thought of this? During her fight against Cerberus the year before, she and the others had taken the Invisible without Council sanction, followed by months of vigilantism in matters of galactic security. Those were capital offenses, ones that the Council had given pardon contingent on her serving them as a Spectre. With that they held a threat over her, one that meant that open defiance could lead to the return of the charges against her and her friends.
"So what, you're going to let that stop you? The council's up to no good, Ria. You know it. I know it," Daron replied, his words coming as a hiss through clenched teeth. "Even if they weren't, the longer we wait the more people are in danger."
"I've made up my mind Daron, its not worth the risk," Ria said. Her gaze locked with his, anger meeting anger.
"You're being stupid, Ria. We can't keep wasting time like this."
"If you don't like it, you can leave," Ria shouted. Her hands clenched into fists. "Why have you even stuck around anyways? Its not like you have anything at stake in this."
The room plunged into sudden silence. For a split second Daron's eyes widened, his expression returning to its former impassive wall. A minute ticked by in silence before Daron at last answered. "Suddenly, I'm not so sure."
With that he turned and left, the hiss of automatic doors marking his departure.
Now alone, Ria stood rooted on the spot, her breathing heavy. The mercenary's words had burned, and not just because of they'd carried with them the implication that she was wrong. No, what hurt the most was that a part of her knew he was right.
Author's Note: Sorry for getting this chapter up 4 days later than I said I would, real life got in the way and all that. I will be posting next chapter in a week and a half though, as if I'd gotten this one out on saturday like I'd intended.