In Infinitum: First Contact
Chapter Twenty
February 5, 2581. Military Calendar.
UNSC Colony Eridanus II, Epsilon Eridani System. 1000 Hours.
BOOM!
The breaching charge kicked the high-class door in and knocked it clear five feet inwards and before the smoke could even clear five armored figures rushed inside, their blue colored armor glinting off the beams of light that made it through the haze of smoke. Their weapons, a combination of HBR60s Battle rifles and M100CAWS shotguns raised and swept the lavish room.
The couches were untouched, the TV was off and no a single thing stuck out to the five armored figures. MJOLNIR Armor Mark. VI [Gen 2]. Their weapons barrels moved slowly across the area before the one at the head of the group said. "Majestic four, two, sweep the rooms."
The two, Majestic's Four and Two broke off from their formation moved into the rear hallways of the large three room apartment. The disappeared from view shortly after entering. "Three, with me, secure upstairs. Five, guard this door."
The fifth man nodded his armored head and stepped back into the door, HBR60 Levelled down the hall they'd come to get into the building while the other two moved to the stairway leaving to the second floor. Why did an apartment have a second floor? It may as well have been a penthouse!
Majestic's one and three moved up the stairs, which groaned slightly under the weight of their MJOLNIR armor. But thankfully, it hadn't been the original model VI, since the Gen 2 models were made to be lighter for civilian friendly conditions, and cheaper overall. Once they reached the top, they didn't see any extra hallways, doors. Just two seats and a table.
"This is two," Majestic' two's voice came over the coms. "Rooms are clear. Not a single sign of use."
"Fuck," Majestic one cursed as he lowered his M100. "Alright, Majestic, form up at the entrance to the apartment, looks like we got the decoy." Demarko grunted, shaking his armored head and kicking himself internally for having a wasted a perfectly good C12 breach charge.
The rest of Majestic assembled in the hall and Demarko lifted his helmet and brought his wrist up, he tapped a key and a small circular holoprojector kicked in. And soon, appeared the Commander overseeing the operation. "Commander Frederick here, what is it, Demarko?" the grizzled veteran asked, arms crossed over his chest.
Commander Frederick, one of the last SPARTAN-IIs and one of the best tactical commanders in the UNSC, and currently overseer of the Spartan deployments for Operation: KING and QUEEN to apprehend ONI elements involved in the destruction of the Far Away. Needless to say the Commander demanded the utmost respect from the series IVs.
"Sir, our location was a bust, not a single shred of evidence they were here." Demarko reported gruffly, weapon across his back and helmet under his arm. "I'm thinking Intelligence dropped the ball on this one. Any reports from the other teams?" he asked. He'd been hoping he and Majestic would get the lucky shot but it now up to Crimson, Indigo and Cyan teams to hopefully catch their two chess pieces.
"Cyan and Indigo radioed in, their locations are clean." Demarko could hear the softest edge in the Commander's voice. "Majestic, move to extraction, once Crimson confirms their own findings we'll be pulling out off the planet and moving back to Reach."
"Sir." Demarko nodded, closing the communications line and sliding his helmet back on. "Alright, Majestic, let's form up and roll out. Naturally, drinks are on me."
"Damnit," Majestic five grunted. "Well, guess we can just hope wonder team Crimson gets them, right?"
"Pfft, I doubt it."
"Yeah."
"Stow it," Demarko barked, shaking his head. "God you're all still so bitter." though he secretly agreed, if three Spartan teams failed then it was doubtful Crimson would have much more success.
Crimson Team
Across the city inside some rundown warehouse in an scheduled to be repurposed drydock, several men wandered around the abandoned facility. Easily more than two dozen visibly just moving around, some sat on scaffoldings and others sat in clusters around looking more like a pack of gangsters hanging in some place they considered a good hangout.
And through the scope of the 12.52X42mm fin stabilized High Velocity-Armor Piercing loaded Sniper Rifle System model 96. Produced on Mars from Misriah Armories and outfitted to Spartan IV commando teams on 2578. They various people could be brushed off as ordinary street thugs.
But only if you were anyone other than Crimson Four, who watched as a pair walked along the perimeter fence, the way the two mens jackets swayed with their steps revealed the fabric holsters for M6H handguns. UNSC issued hardware in the hands of common street thugs?
Not likely.
"Yeah." Crimson Four said to her team as she eyed three around some large metal debris that had likely once been a ships hull armor. "They're definitely guard details. Two are keeping way too much to the perimeter."
"You willing to stake possible civilian lives on that?" Crimson's leader, Crimson One, asked through the team com.
"Yup," The sniper responded instantly with a sure-fire tone. "Definitely. I spot three on the upper catwalks, they keep pacing back and forth, but I can see some cover placements on the guard rails that sticks out from the aged appearance of the metal around the site." She paused, then added. "They're also paying attention, overwatch detail if ever I saw one."
"Sure you're not just itching to dome someone?" Came the deep voice of Crimson three. "You're awfully eager to engage in combat." her teammate further commented.
"Three, radio silence. Five, you in position?" One asked, tone stern but with an underlying tone of annoyance.
"Affirmative." Came Five's softer voice, a stark contrast to Three's. "Just say the word and I'll shake the hornet's nest."
There was a brief pause as Four tracked the targeting reticle over one of the overwatch detail's head. Her rifle was loaded with HV-AP ammunition, so the barrel had been replaced with a "Suppressor" barrel. Much more durable than the standard "screw on" ones used by most military outfits inside the UNSC. It cut down noise by a good sixty-four percent and eliminated the threat of muzzle flashes revealing her position. Only brief problem was the leftover gasses from the shot leaving the barrel in tiny puffs of smoke.
Drawbacks? It lowered the velocity of the rounds somewhat and since the internal barrel and the suppressor were one, accuracy was also hurt. A massive drawback for those hoping to hit targets outside of 1200 meters but for Fours purpose of hitting her current targets at 542 to 531 meters? She was granted pinpoint accuracy. So, she didn't bother to overly correct her aim and the flight time between such a distance would also her to not rely so heavily on "trailing" her targets should things get hectic.
She didn't train all those months under Master Chief Petty Officer Linda Walcott in Extreme Range and Target Elimination training or "ERTE camp" as some of the others called it to be hindered by such simple conditions at this distance. Why they couldn't just call it "be taught by the best Sniper in UNSC recorded history" school was always a question. Then again, it was longer to say and probably wouldn't catch on.
"Alright, Five. You're got the green," One finally said over the com. "Shake em up, Four. You're green light to eliminate if they post an actual threat outside of just screaming and pointing."
"Orders understood," Four replied, finger that had once been free and resting on he trigger guard of the rifle gingerly slid onto the trigger of the powerful rifle and applied a subtle pressure to test the strength of the weapons trigger resistance. "Awaiting." she mumbled.
And waited for the show to start.
From his position, Crimson Five counted to five. Then he stood straight and let the active camoflage field around his body drop and revealed himself standing at full height in the center of the entirety of the three dozen or so people that they suspected as being ONI watchdogs for a secret facility that may or may not have housed their chess pieces.
When a fully armored Spartan in blood red WETWORK variant armor appeared. M6H sidearm in one hand and the other clutching what appeared to be a M20 Flashbang. The men's reactions were mixed, but when the majority reached for their concealed military grade sidearms and the other half raised hands to shield their eyes their real purpose became quite clear to the armored Spartan and his team.
They were ONI watchdogs.
The men on overwatch were the first to fall, one's chest burst as a sniper round from Four tore through him. The other two, seeing their fellow die, barely had further warning before they too fell back against the railing, slumping in death. Five raising his suppressed M6H and fired one of the large handgun rounds, two in fact, into the center mass of the nearest man, who sputtered blood and fell back dead before even hitting the ground.
His other arm lazily tossed the grenade into the air where it detonated five feet up, the bright flash and boom blinded those within twenty-five feet, and added deafness to those within fifteen and for those within ten feet felt unsteady on their feet as disorientation washed over them. By the time flash cleared after 0.6 seconds the Spartan was gone.
And Crimson's One, Two and Three opened fire from across the street from atop a three storey storage building that belonged to some company or another. For now it was on loan to Crimson as their own private "high ground" to bring down the current enemy dogs in place.
Five rushed forward, armored boots barely thudding despite the heavy weight of the armor he was encased in. His team were all using Promethean vision so even cloaked he could move with in impunity without threat of friendly fi- A man's brain matter splattered across his visor as half his skull was reduced to pulp.
"Too slow." Four teased, tone flat yet somehow still managing to sound smug.
Five frowned behind his visor and promptly fell to a knee and spun around, eyes narrowing as he emptied the remainder of his six shots from his M6H, sweeping the area for the hostiles that hadn't been gunned down in the initial volley of gunfire. The few brave enough to go up against Spartans ducked into cover as those six "hasty" shots found rather close to their marks.
Five broke into a sprint and reached down onto his thigh and gripped the handle of his combat knife, he drew the matt black blade and the silver edge glinted with, in his opinion, thirst for blood. He concentrated and then the world blurred momentarily… and he reappeared behind one of the gunmens cover. Behind both of them. The first to go was the one standing.
The man was ejecting the magazine of his M6H when he noticed Five standing there, before he could utter a word Five reached forward and took the man's neck in a vice grip, silencing him while he stepped to the side and nearer to the crouching man who peered around their cover to check for targets.
He didn't even gasp when Five's knife was plunged into and through his neck. Jerked out so it severed the spine. He dropped both bodies, one have been half-way beheaded and the other asphyxiated while his teammate was killed.
Five felt his world blur again and he appeared both three of them, his knife formed silver lines across the air itself as his arm blurred, swiping the air before two of the gunmen. Their throats split and the third, in his panic, leapt from his cover to raise his weapon… only for Four to cut him down with a well placed round to his temple.
A ping on his motion sensor and Five turned and with a flick of his arm the blade flew in a twirling dance through the into the forehead of an overhead gunman, who fell back as the knife pierced his skull and brain. Before the body could hit the scaffolding rails Five caught the handle of the blade and the body slid off with a spurt of blood.
Everything was silent.
"Well," One said over the com as he, Two and Three hopped off the three storey building and landed on the street, leaving small cracks across the pavement as they landed and moved forward like that wasn't a thing humans shouldn't be able to do. "If you two are quite done showing off, lets go see if our chess pieces were actually here."
"Right." Four replied. "I can't see in there, so you're on your own. Course with Promethean vision, pfft, what's the point of walls?"
The others agreed. One activated his own, indicated by the way his visor "pulsed" as he gaze up the stairs into the facility. When he shook his head and sighed. Five and the others knew their prey wasn't here. "Place is empty, but maybe not clean. Two, Three, move up and secure what you can." he ordered, nodding the two upwards.
They gave brief nods and rushed up the stairs in strict order, their HBR60s raised towards the side and top of the stairway just to be safe.
One sighed when his wrist-projector pinged him. "Guess the Commander found us, huh?" he grunted in amusement. The leader of Crimson reached up with one hand and removed his RECON variant helmet, revealing a middle aged, slightly scarred visage of Crimson Team's leader Adrien Baralai. His short, crimson dyed hair was disheveled due to the helmet. But otherwise he appeared fully comfortable as he raised the com and accepted the connection.
"Crimson One, we're reading you half a klick away from your original theater of operations." Commander Frederick said, crossing his arms across his chest and stern frown on his aging face. "Explain."
Adrien replied crisply. "Sorry sir, our original location was clean. But we caught a local being very nosy and decided to ask him some questions… he pointed us to another location, the one we're at now. Sir." He relayed, glancing upwards at the large structure before looking back to Frederick. "We've just cleared thirty-eight armed men, military equipped and using military defensive positions. We investigated-"
"Without confirming orders with me first, Crimson," the Commander cut him off.
Adrien nodded. "Sorry, sir, but we felt the situation demanded quick response. I accept full responsibility, once we're finished checking over her-"
"Crimson One, Two's got something." Three reported over the com, catching both he and the Commander's attention.
Adrien looked to the Commander who nodded. "What is it, Two?"
"Computer terminal, looks like it's locked down tight. I'm going to try and crack I-Oh shit! Failsafe, clear ou-" One turned in time to see Three blown clean down the stairway and slamming down onto the ground, his shields sputtering as they took the brunt of the blast wave and impact force
"Crimson Two!" Adrien shouted, cutting the communication off and sliding his helmet on and moving up the stairway until he reached the smoking entrance. He activated his Promethean vision and stepped into the black smoke filled room. He spotted the location against the wall where the terminal had once been. It was heated up like a Christmas tree.
And across the room was Crimson Two, clutching something to his chest with his right arm and the left had been burned off at mid-bicep, blood didn't drip and instead it had been cauterized. His own shields were sputtering and sparking, the right side of his armor was smoking and the black undersuit of his armor looked like it had bubbled then cooled to a more wavy mess.
Two groaned and rolled onto his back. One moved forward, kneeling and saying, "Oi! Charles, you alright?"
"Yeah…" Two groaned again and sat up with a shake of his head. "I managed to… get…" he lifted his left arm, or what was left of it. He stared at it for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep calming breath. "Am I missing half my arm?" he asked.
"Yeah," Adrien replied bluntly, glad to see his teammate was fine enough to joke about a burned off limb. "The hell happened?" he demanded, grabbing the Spartan by the stump and pulling him to his feet.
"Triggered a failsafe when I tried to crack the encryption, however, I did manage to pull this," Two lifted a single data-chip to show it to Adrien. "It was plugged into the console, thought if I was going to die, I may as well see if I could do something useful." Charles explained, then gave his left arm an experiment twist. "I'm gonna need a new arm, huh?"
"We'll have one vat grown for you by the end of the week." Adrien rolled his eyes. "What was the explosive?"
"From the burns?" both Spartans turned and saw Three stepping inside, he walked over to the charred wall, waving a hand in front of his face to push away some of the smoke. "Guessing Thermite. Nothing much left of the console sides ashes. Two did the right idea in pulling the chip and jumping."
"Did jump, tried to raise a Hardlight shield with a single arm, formed an small barrier and then, well, the blast and heat sent me back before I could proper pop one." Two explained with a shrug. "So, think this has anything useful? I did just lose an arm for it."
"It better be, Commander Frederick found out we ditched the operation zone." Adrien explained and his two teammates stilled in silent comprehension of the fact that one of their hardest COs was blatantly aware of the fact they'd left their designated area of operations. Even if it was to chase another possible lead.
"Oooh." Came Four's voice through the com. "Busted."
Adrien sighed and said, "Alright, Crimson, everyone outside and I'll call for extraction. Two, you sure you're okay?"
"Don't worry sir." Two saluted with his remaining arm. "Besides some missed happy time tonight, Nothing serious."
"Too much information, Two… too much information."
Crimson stepped down the ramp and gathered in the clearing in front of the abandoned facility. Adrien com'd for pickup and mentally prepared himself for the berating, and possible charges of insubordination, possibly going AWOL or desertion charges he and his team could be facing. But, well, they'd always told him to trust his gut feelings in training and even again in Spartan school so he did just that.
If he was lucky, he could put the entirety of the blame on himself and spare his team their positions at the very lest.
"Sir," Five drew One's attention as the man stepped up to him. "I searched the bodies, No identification. Not even a single spare credit." he explained, cocking his armored head to the side. "If you're not sure they're ONI, I think this seals it."
"You're right," Adrien sighed. Perfect, just what they needed to add to the UNSC-vs-ONI dramatic performances that were currently plaguing HIGHCOM. If ONI elements were acting on their own, or god forbid, on orders from ONI brass than there would a lot of flak about to slam into the shady intelligence organization. For now, Adrien would worry about just getting his team back onto the Last Sunday and back to Reach.
"Hey, Two…" Snickered Three. "Need a hand?"
"Oh fuck off."
Adrien sighed. Just another day for the mix and matched personality shit-storm that is Crimson Team. He thought and smiled wryly.
Widow System, The Citadel.
Docking Bay C-9, Garrus Vakarian.
To Garrus' surprise, the Albion had been waiting for him alright. He had thought he would take a shuttle to it while it stealthed out in space for him to board, but no. It was right there, attached magnetic clamps and its crew, of mixture of Turian, Salarian and Asari were loading contents into its cargo bay atop hover trays. And to add to his surprise a few of his team were already there.
The two Quarians, Dahl Kadam nar Volter and Lila "Sparky", were helping along, some of the Turians sent them dirty looks, watching them for theft, but the Asari were more open, smiling and accepting the help, a few even went as far as to chat with them.
He'd read their files. Dahl was a Quarian who had been on pilgrimage when he'd been arrested for Vagrancy on the Citadel, only recently released due to the political situation with the newly inducted Quarians. And Lila, or Sparky, as she preferred. Had been a hacker that been causing a bit of a ruckus by trying to hack into the security files of a night club called Chora's Den.
C-Sec had come down hard… and then laid off when they realized the security files Lila had been trying to get were of its corruption by selling redsand and several accounts of bribery and blackmail. A small ring of corruption had been found thanks to the efforts of a Quarian. Now? She was working for him aboard the Albion, along with Dahl they were his primary combat engineers.
Garrus was partially reassured, he knew all Quarians received combat and hand-to-hand training before leaving on Pilgrimage, but he was looking forward to making sure their training matched his own prowess as best to their abilities. He didn't need any weak links in his ranks during a mission that required a more subtle touch.
The next one to catch his eyes was the Turian, unlike the crew of the Albion who wore their crew uniforms, this one was wearing a Phantom Medium armor with his helmet resting on the crate next to him. He was adjusting the targeting computer on his Widow. An AM rifle meant to bring down vehicles. Not exactly something you'd use on infantry unless you liked the bloody results.
The Turian was also a bareface, no markings to signal his colony of birth and despite Garrus' open minded ways, he didn't like barefaced Turians. Anyone who didn't wear their home colony's marks proudly were not to be trusted. He tried not to frown, he figured he could at least attempt to give his fellow Turian the benefit of the doubt.
He turned and made his way over to him, when he approached the other Turian took notice and stood, shouting. "Officer on deck!"
The reaction was instant. The workers set their crates down, snapped off salutes, apparently none noted his arrival until then. And upon the other Turian's announcement, they all took notice and gave Garrus his due respect. The bareface saluted as well. The only ones who didn't snap to were Lila and Dahl, who continued to push their hover cart along to continue loading.
Garrus hated it when people saluted him. He told his team day one that if he entered the locker room he didn't want to hear "officer" or whatever, he just wanted to be known as Garrus or Vakarian. Still, he nodded and saluted back, saying. "At ease."
The loading bay got back to work, the bareface nodded. "Commander Vakarian," he greeted, setting the Widow down on the crate beside his helmet after the weapon collapsed. "Sergeant Saren Arterius." Saren offered his hand.
Garrus took it in his and they shook briefly, politely. "Commander Garrus Vakarian," Garrus returned introduction even though they both knew each other, Garrus through Saren's dossier and Saren, being an Arterius, likely had more than a few friends inside the Hierarchy due to his family name. "I trust you've been briefed?"
"Yes, sir." Saren drawled with a nod, glancing at the two Quarians as they passed them by, the look was a dirty one that neither of the pair noticed, or ignored, Garrus couldn't tell at his angle. When Saren turned his eyes back to Garrus he added, "I don't like their presence aboard a Hierarchy and Salarian union ship." he stated bluntly, avoiding protocol for "speaking freely".
Garrus wanted to say something along the lines of "says the bareface", but held his tongue lest he earn the ire of one of his new subordinates. "They're our allies as much as the Salarians and Asari now," he paused, then added. "Besides, they're both good, their dossiers have them as dependable individuals, Quarian or no."
Saren blinked, as if genuinely surprised to see one of his own defending what most Turians called "suit rats". There was a flash of annoyance in Saren's blue eyes before it passed and a certain amused glow entered them when the bareface said, "You sound like my brother." he shook his head.
Garrus chose not to pry into that subject since family was a very important subject for Turians, so he changed topics. "You've been briefed?"
"I caught snippets here and there from gossip." Saren replied honestly. "Nothing solid, all I know for certain is we're going into the Terminus systems and the Council have given you tactical command." he tilted his head. "Mind clearing up?"
"We're being tasked with covertly retrieving, or failing that, killing a…" Garrus paused to think his next words over. Was the human in the Terminus rogue? Or working for the UNSC? It could be taken lightly either way and it would still be their mission. But Garrus hated giving the wrong assumptions. "Rogue human agent who's been operating out in Omega." he finished.
That caught the bare face's attention. "Human, you say?" Saren actually sounded a bit more eager, his posture grew more attentive. "On Omega? Sounds like a good time."
"Yeah," Garrus said in agreement. A rock with more criminality on it? Hardly a place Garrus wanted to spend his shore leave, but if a firefight broke out then he'd hardly have to worry about "civilian" casualties when everyone on Omega likely had a hand in one crime or another. "A freefire zone if ever there was one."
"Mhm," Saren nodded, then grabbed his helmet and Widow. Attached the former to his back, his helmet slid on, and then slid back to reveal most of his face. "Well, I'm going to get settled in, if we're done here, Commander?"
"We are," Garrus nodded.
Saren nodded, turned and proceeded towards the central elevator, where he disappeared once the doors closed.
Saren gone, Garrus turned to see if anymore of his team would be arriving. Chosen or not they didn't get here by the time the Albion was done loading all their gear up then they were being left behind. That was when he spotted two larger figures stepping out of the main elevator into the loading bay. It was the Elcor and Valieri.
He took them in, the Elcor's name was "Kredak", Primarily a Krogan name. Part of the Elcor military bombing core, covering his body were Kinetic barrier "bands" across his arms and legs. Providing barrier protection. He was also wearing a simple civilian harness with a pack, a large pack. What is he carrying in that thing? A second Elcor? Garrus thought in wonder.
And then, the Valieri.
Sure, Garrus had seen pictures and videos, read up on the reclusive species and even tried to get some combat footage, but the results were so small and vague that he only expected a few things. He hadn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.
Feran stood taller than Garrus, topping him at eight and nine inches. Her torso was covered in a black metal armor with silver trimming, a slight figure, her waist was thin, but he could see the muscles, which he knew were dense enough to make most other species jealous of their surprising strength. Glowing golden "lights" along the armor told him her barriers were up. Her thighs and groin were covered by the same black with silver trimmed armor, but her knees down were open.
She was covered in pale blue scales that seemed to have a glow to them. Garrus noted. Her feet were double jointed, like one of those Sangheili the Human's had as allies. But where they had hooves, she had three toes, and each was tipped with a slightly curved talon, and the heel of her foot also had one.
She walked on the toes of her feet, leaving the rear talon up. Nothing covered her feet. Eyes moving up, her hands were much the same. Three fingers, ending in smaller claws, a thumb. Slender build up to the armored shoulders. A slightly elongated neck leading up to her head. Which was covered by a black mask with two glowing red "eyes" and a pair of horns that curved from the forehead of the mask back around and over her hair, which was silver in color and tied back in three tails.
Her face obscured, he couldn't make out her expression, her mouth was covered, the entire front of her face was, so Garrus was almost not missing Saren's barefaced mug. In her left hand was a spear, of all things! Garrus had heard Valieri used odd weaponry, but to see her holding a silver, golden and red two pronged spear in hand, which clanged softly every time she took a step since she was using it as a bit of a weapon stick.
And then came the real eye catcher, on her back were two large wings, folded so she didn't take much room. He'd heard they could fly, he'd seen the pictures, but he hadn't prepared himself for that. They seemed big, and since she was taller, he could imagine the span of them would be impressive. They were black, covered in scales, obviously, but each had a tuft of black fur at the main joint of the wing, where a single curved talon rested, polished and sharp. With five "fingers" spread out and between them was light, leather like skin to catch the air for flying.
Combine super dense muscles with a Valieri's naturally lightweight bone structure and Garrus was now very convinced she could fly.
"Kredak, Feran." Garrus spoke finally when he was done with his observations. He approached the pair, "Glad you two could make it."
The pair stopped, the Elcor nodded slightly. "Genuine: It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Commander. Curious. Were you going to disembark soon?" the Elcor asked with a tilt of his head.
"As soon as we're done with loading the cargo," Garrus nodded, gesturing the last three crates being loaded onto the Albion. "Soon, I suggest you two get settled in." he advised them, looking to Feran. "I admit… it is an, ah, honor, to work with a Valieri." he said, trying not to sound sheepish, even as he had to look up to both of them.
The Valieri turned her head down to him and even through the red lenses of her mask he could feel her gaze. It was almost heavy… like an physical weight was pressing down on him. He shifted, remembering she was also an Archon, meaning she was the biotic equivalent of a Vanguard. Finally, she spoke, tone a smooth hiss, muffled only slightly by the mask. "Commander Vakarian. I am Feran."
"Garrus Vakarian," Garrus would have offered his hand, but he felt that handshakes weren't a thing in their society, with the claws. "Have either of you been briefed?"
"We are to hunt a human who operates out of Omega in the Terminus systems," Feran replied as if it were common knowledge, to Garrus' shock. She continued with a tilt of her head. "Our last team mate… he isn't on the Citadel?"
"…Uh," Garrus cleared his throat, confused but not willing to question just how she knew that part. "Yes, we have to go pick him up on a prison ship, the Purgatory. Operated by Blue Suns on the edge of the Terminus systems." he explained, gesturing the two on board. "Now, lets go, the sooner we all get settled in, the sooner we can begin our mission."
"Affirmative," Kredak spoke with another nod. "Of course, Commander." he lumbered on past Garrus, moving into the cargo hold of the Albion, politely excusing himself past a few of the crew to get to the elevator to get to the crew quarters.
"As you wish." Feran rolled her neck, and Garrus could hear the pops that travelled along it, before she too stepped past him, one of her wings almost brushing against his arm as she did so. Catching up to the Elcor when he stepped into the Elevator.
When Feran was far enough, the weight that had been pressing down on Garrus' shoulders subsided and he breathed out in relief. "Well…" he said to himself as he turned and rolled his neck. "This is going to be one interesting mission."
He only hoped it didn't end with him in a box and the brand spanking new ship in pieces. Or worse, in the hands of pirates under Aria's employ. The thought of what she could do with a stealth frigate honestly made Garrus' mandibles itch in a bad way. That said, he was going to do everything in his power to stop that from happening.
Moving into the Albion, he called the elevator… and stood there, for awhile.
How slow was this thing?
Another three seconds passed before the doors opened and he stepped inside. He tapped the key leading to the CIC and the doors closed, then he began his ride up. And up and up aaaaand up. Four seconds passed and he was just almost there.
He raised his Omni tool. "Commander Vakarian to Engineering," he said, waiting before a Turian's voice came through.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Who's in charge of Elevator maintenance?" Garrus asked, patient as ever.
"That would be Private Senius, sir."
"Have him reassigned to latrine detail, and get one of the Quarians to make this spirits forsaken thing go faster." Garrus closed the com and sighed. Then! The doors parted and he was greeted to the sight of the CIC. He stepped onto the deck, someone spotted him and was about to shout when Garrus raised a hand, shaking his head. "Just give me a status report, we ready to leave?"
"Sir," the tech, an Asari, rather attractive if Garrus did think so, nodded, "Closing bay doors and Citadel control has cleared us for take-off," she informed him. "Bridge just needs your go ahead."
"Alright, I'll make my way up there," Garrus stepped past her and proceeded along the long walkway, the galaxy map, podium for over viewing it, various tech personnel, mostly Asari, it seemed, a few specialist Turians and a Salarian. When he reached the bridge, he checked out his flight team.
He was surprised who was sitting in the pilot's seat. Surprised, and a little frightened. "…Solana?" Garrus hesitated, he didn't believe it. He hadn't really checked the crew dossiers to see who was manning what stations aboard the ship, but seeing who would be flying him and his team around, he now wished he did.
The female Turian turned her head and her blue eye twinkled with what Garrus could only call "Oh yeah, its me"ness. "Welcome abord the Citadel Special Forces Frigate Albion, Commander." she winked. "And might I just say, the new title works well with you, brother."
Garrus couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it, females generally didn't serve any frontline rolls in the Turian Military, most were engineers and tech support specialists for maintenance on ships and ground vehicles. Solana herself was, last time Garrus heard from her and their father, part of the engineering corps on Palavan.
So why was she here as the Helmsman to a new stealth frigate?
"If we could make slugs fly as fast as your thoughts right now," Solana's voice drew Garrus from his thoughts. She was smirking, "We could sink whole ships in one shot. To answer the question you're probably wondering, I was picked out after my CO found me messing around with a flight simulator, my scores were high enough that he wanted to see me run the op again. Scored ever higher."
"That doesn't explain why you're aboard this ship," Garrus crossed his arms and frowned. He didn't mean to sound cold, but they were going into dangerous territory and he didn't want to have to worry about his little sister out there in the unforgiving Terminus systems.
"Well, Commander," her tone became frigid. "I was picked for this mission because not only can I fly circles in a fighter, I can pilot the big tubs too. And since I graduated with top honors from the Palavan Aerial Recon corps with a Red Star and five Blue Meteors, you should have a little faith in me." she turned away and sunk into her seat, looking a little more cross now. "So we clear to take off, Commander?"
Garrus frowned further, mandibles twitching in ire before he reigned himself in and nodded. "Yes, we're clear. Take us out."
Solana didn't verbally acknowledge the order as she gripped the controls and, in true Vakarian fashion, rolled her neck. "Taking us out." the ship around them thrummed, and the magnetic clamps holding them in place released. A shudder, then, Solana said. "And we're off."
The ship pushed out of the bay, and once it was in the open void, the four engines glowed brighter and the propulsion kicked them forward. Garrus barely caught himself as the acceleration staggered him. Somehow, he knew that was Solana getting her revenge on him and he glared at the back of her head.
She didn't even glance back at him.
"Easy there, Lieutenant," her co-pilot, a Salarian, warned her. "We're not trying to set any records here."
"No one likes a backseat flyer, Kulle," Solana replied, but eased on the speed anyways. "We are away, Commander, making for the Mass Relay." A pause, "Where we headed?"
"Purgatory," Garrus replied, he'd chat with his sister later. "A prison ship, We have to pick up our next crew member there."
"Oh~" Purred Solana. "Sounds exciting."
Garrus rolled his eyes. "If we're lucky, it will just be a simple job of get there, pay and leave with our Krogan."
Solana groaned and hung her head, turning to glare at him. "Spirits, brother! Why not just declare our universal invincibility while you're in the middle of jinxing us?"
"…Excuse me?" Garrus blinked, unsure what to make of that.
"She means you," The Salarian, Kulle, air quoted. "Jinxed us. When you said your statement in a way that makes it sound fool proof. She's insinuating that now, the mission will become far more complicated." a roll of his large eyes. "Superstition, I say."
"Pfft," Garrus shook his head. "Right, next you'll tell me Shatha can fly."
"…We're doomed." Solana stated flatly with a shake of her head.
End of Chapter Twenty
Well there it is, Chapter Twenty. Leonardo still trying to catch TIM, and Garrus' own little mission is getting underway. And I altered some stuff, so, now we have Garrus' sis (Who's name I could not, for the life of me, find on the wiki, so per my pals suggestion Garrus' sis is named...Solana Vakarian!) I also lacked the patience to go through all those dialogue options with him in game to see if he says her name.
Also, had to do a bit of exposition there for the Valieri, which I felt I did horribly and was so forced, but, y'know, just getting that out of the way… might need to do some of those fun fangled Codex entries at the end of each chapter, or have chapters dedicated to them at intervals. Ah well.
Also, was finishing this the other day, but I was waiting to break that 670 review mark, but since I didn't and had this up, so, here it is!
PS. So, I just read a review that told me it was "VAkarian" not "Vekarian" At first I was all "I know." then I went and reread it... turns out my Autocorrect was respelling it automatically to Vekarian... I feel so ashamed now that I couldn't spell my fav character's name right.