"We have another mission coming up. I'm so nervous, and Ree seems so distant now. She spends more time with Kantose now. I feel sick sometimes thinking about it. I just have this feeling sometimes like something is wrong.
It doesn't help that I found out about Jorvan having a child with that Asari. Mother and Father will disown him for sure now."
Hospital Ward Dhal's Folly Digeris, 5 May 2186
"I'm sorry sir, we cant remove it. The chances of causing another brain hemorrhage is too high. I can, however, utilize the nerve grafting techniques Dr. Bau used on the human and attempt to work around the object. My plan is to fix what I can and let the synthetic nerves form new pathways before cauterizing the tissue and shaving the shrapnel back so it does not protrude too much.
...No sir, I do not recommend attempting to wake her. She's in a coma regardless, we will see if we can elevate her level of consciousness after the grafting and letting some time pass to heal. Yes. Understood sir." The turian doctor nodded solemnly and ended the call before turning to his surgical team.
"Get the protein tanks prepped. Were doing it."
Somewhere in the Digerian wilderness 22 June 2186
A lone human figure leaned against a shabby looking log cabin. Its walls were constructed by felled trees from the surrounding area. Their stumps poked out of the nettle carpeted forest floor like a frozen crowd. He scratched at his beard, wondering if maybe he should cut them down further. They would serve as decent cover for an approaching enemy. They also blocked his fields of fire.
The distant whine of a eezo boosted turbine engine broke his train of thought and made him cast a wary eye skywards. He drained the last dregs of his coffee and carefully placed his mug on to a rough cut log table set just outside of his front door.
"C'mon Max, delivery is here." He said as he smiled ruefully.
It wasn't talking to yourself if your partner just so happened to also be named Max and was a disarmed exoskeleton.
The sound of whirring motors and servos echoed from inside the cabin as the battle frame unfolded and stepped gingerly outside into the brisk mountain air. One of its arms clumsily bumped into the door frame, which shook the entire roughshod structure.
"Calm down boy, none of it is for you. Although some lubricant and a good scrubbing wouldn't hurt. Perhaps next week?" The frame silently regarded him, its sensor cluster blinking slowly from where human head would usually be.
"How's about you open up so we can go get this thing?"
The frame obediently opened, its limbs and torso splaying wide to accept his body. He stepped up into the leg braces and turned around, cinching down the makeshift straps and padding that took the place of his heavy armor that would usually fill the frame and lock into place like a glove. The Tingle Sense as he began to call it registered as his neck grazed the contact points where his suit would usually interface with the frame. He grunted in annoyance before slowing his breathing and feeling out the machine. The itches and pokes turned into motors and control clusters. An abrasive feeling here meant that a servo was out of tune. A sharp cold spot there meant a sensor cluster was failing. He felt himself become an extension of the machine, and the machine an extension of him.
"Ok, lets go."
He started off at a slow walk, feeling more and more in tune with the frames circuits and controls. By the time he was jogging he had ceased using the manual control nubs built into the arms of the frame. By the time he was sprinting and jumping from ridge to ridge he didn't even register he was wearing an exoskeleton. He grew more bold, his frame boosted agility sending him sailing almost to the forest canopy with each leap.
He spotted a clearing and jumped up into a nearby tree, upsetting a family of avian analogs before jumping to another. Gone were his weapon blisters and mounts. What replaced them were crudely fashioned armatures for gripping, cutting and hauling. The hook of a cabled winch flopped around crazily from the small of his back as he used his "hands" to grip tree trunks and branches.
Another leap and he was sailing for the clearing, the whine overhead briefly surpassed by his whoop of exhilaration. The landing wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either. He and the frame tumbled after landing off balance and came to a tumultuous stop in the in the middle of the clearing. He chuckled as he stood and surveyed the deep furrow his tumbling frame had left in the tall wild grass.
"Ok buddy, we gotta take a look at that gyroscope when we get back. I think you're a little off." He said to the frame as he tested his range of motion for damage. Another cold spot emerged, this time on his shoulder. He looked over and sighed when he spotted a cracked sensor lens.
"Oh gow-dammit." He said and looked up as the cargo transport emerged from over a ridge.
Its stubby wings and boxy body drifted aimlessly until he activated his beacon and waved a piston and alloy sheathed arm at the craft. The transport nimbly turned towards him and began to drop. He stopped waving and began to prepare.
"Ok, we can do this, lets catch it this time." he said as he amped himself up.
The Transport began to bank, its side door opening. He could see people standing in the doorway, holding on to overhead rails as they watched. Four this time. It seems like his supply drops were attracting spectating passengers. He felt it was time to change locations and carriers again.
A silver cube slipped over the side of the transport and began to tumble down towards him as the craft made a steep bank briefly.
"Jump early, catch it on the down turn, jump early, jump… Now"
His arms swung as he crouched low before driving his legs down as hard as he could. He doubted his human muscles could do to add much to the exos abilities, but it was the thought that counts right?
His aim was true, but his timing was off, the cube slipped passed him as he was still sailing up. He grimaced and flailed after it as he began to fall, but to no avail. He hit his thrusters and braked hard before leaving a bigger dent in the ground than the now mostly buried cube.
"Well, better luck next time." Her said glumly and crouched to haul the cargo cube out of the ground. The transport banked away slowly, the familiar flashes of omni cams peppering its flanks as the spectators took their parting shots.
The trip back to the cabin took a meandering route, up and down valleys and along streams as he and his cargo strolled along at a leisurely pace. When he reached his cabin he circled around it, checking for disturbances on the ground as he went. Satisfied that he was not followed the unhooked the cube from the back of his frame and had it carry it to the log table.
"Hey Max, go ahead and store your self inside. Do a self diagnostic and gyro calibration before powering off though." He said as he popped the seal to the cube and began rummaging around inside of it.
The frame gave a low beep and slowly walked inside.
"Amino ration, amino ration, amino ration… Oh!"
He excitedly pulled a small wooden box from the pile of plastic food packs and opened it to reveal a neat row of fat brown paper cylinders. He pulled one out and smelled along its length, its earthy aroma and floral notes making him smile in anticipation. He put the lid back on the cube and slid it closer to the table, its function now being that of a stool as he flicked on his Omni Tool and projected a small flame.
Biting the tip off a rounded end he puffed on the cigar until the other side glowed cherry red. The smell was sharp but carried a musty tinge of aged wood and bourbon. He took a long drag and proceeded to cough violently. His face turned green as he felt ill immediately. He began spitting as his mouth watered and tasted of dirt and leaves.
"Oh god, people some people think this is a way to relax?!" he gagged and rubbed his scarred throat.
"You're not supposed to inhale the smoke. You taste the flavor of the smoke and puff it back out."
Max was on his feet and diving over the log table in a split second, which seemed to drag out as he felt The Lead kick in. He managed to plot out which direction he was going to roll towards, how many steps it would take to reach the Avenger Assault rifle hidden in a nearby tree stump and how long it would take to turn and fire in the time it took him to clear the table and begin to land.
Judging by the location of the voice it had come from the doorway to his cabin. If he had a weapon already drawn then he would fire a shot about three steps into his six step dash for his rifle. He would have to change direction briefly to throw off his aim. He was know rolling and coming up on to his knees as he thought about something.
But if he had a weapon drawn, why wouldn't he have shot already? Is it another "Human watcher" tourist? There where no tracks though, they had to have snuck in.
Turn and look? Yea lets turn and look.
He halted his forward momentum by grabbing a nearby stump and swinging behind it for cover. He felt his sense return to normal as the rush ended and peeked around the side of the stump.
Juan Dominguez stood in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and amusement.
"I'm of Dominican descent. Cigars are kinda part of my heritage." He said as he took a step outside.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" Max growled.
"The JSC class graduated. Curriculum was cut short because three of its instructors are gone."
"You know what I mean." Max replied as he hefted himself up to his feet and dusted himself off.
His synthetic cloth brown work pants and dark blue fleece lined long sleeve shirt where already soiled and worn looking, making the effort futile.
"The Alliance figured you'd be more receptive to a human face." Juan shrugged. "I told them they were stupid to think any face would be welcome, but orders are orders."
"Receptive to what?! They dismissed my contract and took all my entitlements save for basic living income."
"Yea, this is pretty basic." Juan said and nudged a log step with a booted foot. "Look. They want to make up to you after what happened. They said if you came back they would ship you off right away to a posting of your choice."
"I'm exactly where I want to be."
"Well. There's one more thing. They want the frame back. They have the rest of the weapons and kit inventoried and packed, ready to be shipped back, they just want the bit that everything attaches to back."
"They're not getting Max. Tell them to go fuck themselves."
Juans brow furrowed as he wondered if they were even talking about the same thing.
"Look. I know you disabled the remote functions, but they can still carpet scan from orbit, and if your frame is the only bit of technology amongst a vast wilderness, it makes spotting you pretty damn easy."
Max shook his head and went back to the silver cube stamping out the cigar before popping its lid off and rummaging for a ration pack.
"Come and get it. Fuck 'em. It would only be fitting for them to kill me trying to get the frame rather than letting some foreign power enact some sort of primitive killing ritual." He said as he sat with his back to Juan and tore into the packet.
"Yea… I did some research on that. That hasn't been done in nearly thirty years. I guess the majority of the time they just fess up or remove their tattoos and move to Omega."
It was out in the open, but still wasn't being talked about directly. Max tuned out Juan and he emptied a squeeze tube of mashed peas and sipped at a water packet. Juan watched in silence for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head.
"Why are you still here?" Max said around a mouth full of food.
"She's still here. Out in Trafalgar Inpatient care hospital. She still hasn't moved or talked to anyone si-"
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Max roared as he stood and turned, hurling the packet at the Alliance Corporal.
He raised a hand defensively but the packet still hit him in the stomach. Juan pursed his lips and looked down at his now soiled Systems Alliance tunic and clenched his fists. He took a deep breath before his temper got the better of him and stepped off the primitive staircase.
"You forgot to cover your own tracks while leaving." He said tersely as he marched off into the woods.
Max watched him go, tracking the soldiers movements until the dense vegetation swallowed him up. A few moments later the distinctive whine of a Kodiak shuttle could be heard as it lifted off and streaked into the greenish blue sky of Digeris.
Later that night Max sat on a tree stump and watched as his cabin burned to the ground. He had packed what he needed back into the cube and left the rest to burn. His power frame stood by him, mutely scanning the area as it awaited instructions. Thick plumes of black smoke roiled from the intense fire while long tongues of flame hungrily engulfed the hovel.
He sipped at a water packet, absently running his tongue along the rough edge of the packet while he did so. Max couldn't focus on any one thought. Instead a myriad of images, memories, and emotions roiled in tune with the flames. He smiled as a memory lingered; It was the last birthday he had shared with his deceased wife Aubry. She had died her hair a vibrant shade of green and had regretted it immediately.
"I just wanted to try something different!" She admonished when Max had seen it for the first time.
She had shyly slid into their living room, her hair hidden under a wool beany. When she had let it spill out as she pulled the hat away Max had been at a complete loss for words.
"Well!?" She said uncertainly as the silence grew unbearable. She was already flushing a deep shade of scarlet.
"Aww, babe, I didn't know you loved tomatoes that much." He teased.
"Ahmygodshaddumshaddup" She said as she grew flustered and pounced on him as he sat in an overstuffed chair. She had playfully pounded on his chest until he tickled back.
The sound of a snapping twig halted the memory and Max sat up, suddenly alert to his surroundings. He cast a sidelong glance at the frame and noted none of its indicators signaled any activity aside from wild life.
He brushed the memory aside and skimmed through a few others before he kept coming back to the feeling of warmth and hardness pressing against him in a small bunk bed on a solitary frigate on its way to Digeris.
He flashed forward to the night out on The Citadel. How she had used her biotics against the C-Sec officer hassling them. The look and sound she had given when his father had left dinner table. How her eyes glittered with the intensity and focus of someone. A being. Alien but familiar, intelligent, emotive and right in front of him. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he watched himself take her hand in his for the first time. Max smiled distantly as he moved on to the next memory. The way Alarees slack features jostled with each step as he carried her in his arms back to their dorm rooms. He paused on the moment he looked down at her and watched the way mandibles twitched lazily as her mouth hung open.
The crackle of flames pulled him from his reverie and he sighed as the familiar ache of loss crept back into his heart.
"This is good. I need to be here." Max remarked to the frame as if talking to an old friend. "I should have learned my lesson the first time. But nope. Here we are. Just you, me, and a vast wilderness.
He nudged the frame with his elbow. "I tell you what, when we set up our next spot I'll take the time to clean all your servos." The frame teetered from the nudge and wobbled to correct. A warning chime sounded as it signaled its internal guidance had failed before toppling over and spasm neurotically.
"Or I could just go fuck myself." Max muttered despondently.
"To be honest, and I know this will be the source of no small amount of mirth on your part, we need you."
Vaul's pebbly lips curled in a smirk.
"You weren't kidding. I never thought I would live to see the day a turian asked for a krogans help. Is this gonna play out like the Rachni wars? When you've gotten what you needed you're just gonna neuter us further?"
Major Denioc shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"This isn't for me, or my kind. You will be the krogan representative for all future students. They will essentially come to you for all their issues as well as rely on you to coordinate their training with the other department heads."
Vaul grunted and shifted his considerable weight from one foot to the other.
"But why me? There were plenty of other krogan who graduated along side me."
Denioc leaned back in his chair and waved a hand at Vaul.
"Because you were the only one out of all of them who showed any aptitude to actually work with the other races. Sure, they passed tests and did what was asked of them, but no one tried to go beyond that. It shows a level of leadership and maturity far above what one might call your peers."
Vaul nodded and felt trepidation and excitement welling up inside him. It was an appealing prospect, and truth be told he did enjoy the change of life. Hell, he was long lived, and he didn't have anywhere else to be. They provided all sorts of fun toys and decent food for him and the others. He could go out in town and get into bar fights if he wasn't too rough. And he could explore some personal aspects as well.
"One condition. I want my own room. -Two actually, I still get to participate in the training."
Denioc smiled, his mandibles splaying briefly. "Done and done." He was going to say more, but the krogan had already began to turn around and lumber off. He knew enough about krogan to know it wouldn't be worth the effort to continue.
"Just let me know when the next groups coming and I'll be there to receive them." Vaul rumbled over his shoulder as he left the Prefects office.
Ruhe vas Konesh switched connections as she sat precariously on the hood of a old M88 ground transport. Her readout showed green and she gave a thumbs up to Reeve sitting in the cab. The vehicle clicked and shook as it tried to start but only succeeded and emitting a hiss as the still not firing engine ejected its hydrogen fuel charge.
"I don't get it. It has power. It has fuel. Why isn't this damn thing starting!" Reeve grumbled as he popped the hatch and stood up on the driver seat. "Ok, lets try the injectors again." He said to the quarian as she closed up on access port and carefully stood.
"Injectors have already been calibrated and are operating at 95% efficiency." Ruhe said in her whispery monotone voice.
"Well crap. I don't know what else to do." Reeve said as frustration edged into his voice.
Ruhe stared silently at the human, barely blinking as she replayed all they had done to try and fix the old APC. "We didn't reengage the safety lockouts of the ignition system after we reinstalled the injectors." She whispered.
Reeve dipped his chin as she talked, straining to hear her faint voice. He caught "Safety lockouts" and groaned.
"Oh my GOD I'm an idiot." He said and scrambled out of the hatch.
His lanky frame expertly navigated across the top of the carrier to its engine compartment. He opened an access panel and reached inside, feeling blindly until his hands touched the correct toggles. He hurriedly closed the panel and jumped back in the cockpit.
Ruhe closed her eyes and sat down on the hood, feeling another headache coming. Too many repetitive tasks with similar over lapping memories could bring a skull crusher of a migraine. She blanked out her mind and thought of the blackness of space.
The M88 rumbled to life beneath her and she reached out to steady herself. She could hear Reeve give a small whoop of victory before he revved the engine a few times. He popped out of the hatch after letting the engine idle for a bit and then turned it off.
"Mano I tell you what; A Mako would freakin tell you something was wrong, but these old M88's sure do run strong. Alright, I think we're good for the day. You wanna help with that old Orbital Launch System tomorrow? I know the staff here said its pointless and old, but I think its neat people used to launch things into space that way."
Ruhe simply nodded.
"Ok, cool, I'll see you tomorrow." Reeve said with a grin before scrambling down from the APC and strolling into the back of the Mech bay. He slid out of the upper part of his dirty coveralls and tied the sleeves around his waist. Gone were his scars and bruises that lined his wrists and forearms. He walked with a measure of something resembling confidence. Out of habit moved to brush his mop of dirty blond hair away from his eyes and forgot that it was gone. Instead he rubbed his shaved scalp and set about tossing off his work boots before flopping on to a narrow cot padded with insulation foam for added comfort.
He slipped on a set of holographic goggles and booted up a game from an Omni Pad. A pop up in his goggles signaled he had a message. He paused the game and slipped his goggles on to his brow before grabbing the tablet and opening it.
I need your help with the frame. The internal guidance is shot and the gyroscope it out of whack. Could you head out to these coords and take a look at it. -MB
"Oh man." Reeve said to no one in particular as he sat bolt upright.
Initially, he had hated Max with every fiber of his being. He had practically killed his Master.
No. No more. Not anymore. I am Harrison Reeve and I am proud of who I am and what I can accomplish. He recited as he felt his mind teeter towards old thoughts.
After the Tribunal he had had a complete breakdown. Ruhe had found him in the Bay among a scattered pile of used medigel injectors and surgical tools. He vaguely remembered the attempted overdose as well as the quarian calling for help as she deftly set about staunching the flow of blood and applying pressure to his self inflicted wounds.
After that he had been made to see a counselor, and still did so regularly. In the roughly two months following "The Incident" as he and his counselor had taken to calling it, Reeve had seen a drastic transformation in both himself and how he viewed his life. He had seen Max only a few times after the Tribunal, each time in varying degrees of rehabilitation.
After only a week and a half the Gunnery Chief had left, taking the Exo with him.
He remembered how much relief he felt when they grafted new skin on to his arms and legs. The scars had served as a constant reminder of what he had been and who he had belonged to. He still couldn't bring himself to say her name or acknowledge what she had done, but he was working on it and getting better.
He remembered the day Max had left, his still bore bright pink scars from the initial graft and sealing of his horrible wounds. He had come to visit the lone survivor of Horizon as he lay in the recovery ward following his own first session of skin grafts. Seeing Max's scars were enough conviction of what the counselor had said during their first few sessions;
She had been pure evil.
Ruhe had proven to be the perfect companion through all of this. Her calm presence and precise articulation serving to ground Reeves occasional emotional swings. The quarian felt a little more at ease around the human, his voracious appetite to take things apart and fix them appealing to some of her base quarian instincts. His main appeal was that he kept his distance and hadn't tried to change the status quo between them. He didn't prod or dig or accuse or hassle the small quarian female. They worked, fixed things and went their separate ways when it was done.
"Hey!" Reeve exclaimed as he hastily slid back into his coveralls while he ran back into the Mech bay. Ruhe stopped and turned her foot practically out the door.
"I gotta a turbo secret mission if ya wanna hop in. The Gunnery Chief is stranded out in the woods with a busted Exo. C'mon, ill warm up the skimmer." He added as he jogged to a work bench and began piling tools into a rucksack.
"No. Unless I drive." Ruhe said a small smile in her voice.
"Ugh, you make it soo boring." Reeve moaned. "Ok, sure. But I get to drive back. And no I will not do the falling thing again."
"Ok."