Battle of Wills: Anticipation
Solaris leaned on her armrest and gazed out the window of the civilian transport, watching the black, empty void of space fly by.
As per her orders, she had been shuttled over to a layover station with Gaius, Mari and the other turians in her team in orbit above the gas giant, Imorkan. They had spent several hours there before their scheduled transport came. The layover station was the most disgusting place she had ever seen. People of all races were scattered about, drinking, drugging up, gambling or fornicating with cheap prostitutes in the shadows of inconspicuous corners. Solaris had surveyed the scene with aversion, preferring to hide away in her dinky little room with the door bolted shut. The outlook inside the cramped chamber wasn't much better than the lobby; there were stains on the floor, rips in the garish wallpaper that exposed the durasteel underneath and a pipe was leaking from the roof, forming a growing damp spot in the middle of the unmade, parasite-infested bed.
Solaris had made her way into the shithole of a station with Gaius, separating from Titus, Mari and the remainder of the mixed team to remain inconspicuous. Despite his wandering eyes, Gaius made perfect company. He cracked jokes to ease the tension, especially when the Infantrymen arrived. They were icy and distrustful at first, but they warmed up to him and the rest of the team eventually. Once all fifteen of the team arrived, the station was packed. However, the patrons were either too drunk or busy to notice at all. Mari, Gaius and a few others were forced to share rooms, but generally, they didn't mind. Solaris had to share a room with Titus, a Cabal she didn't know very well and a one Infantry soldier. The four of them had talked for over two hours when Titus had ordered them to get some rest. The transport to Omega wasn't coming for another six hours.
The Cabal and the Infantryman gladly followed Titus's word, as they were beginning to get heavy-lidded anyway. They, by unspoken concurrence, had wisely avoided the bed and settled on the floor. However, Solaris couldn't find sleep. She had propped herself up on an ammunition crate, using her duffel containing her weapons and armor as a pillow. She had lain right up against the window, watching the ever-shifting patterns in the bluish ammonia clouds of Imorkan thousands of miles below. Her thoughts were restless and she felt the cold hands of loneliness upon her.
It had been terrible to separate herself from Max's mind when she left. The link they had shared was so comforting and loving; she couldn't bear to tear away. It felt like the other half of her soul had been ripped out. But, their respective missions had moved them apart, and there were more important things that needed her attention. She, feeling heavy with a sense of despair, sighed.
Titus's eyes popped open then, and he had whispered, "Somethin' bothering you, kid?"
"I'm sorry, am I keeping you awake?" Solaris had inquired, not wanting to disturb anyone, especially a superior.
"No, no. I can't seem to sleep myself," Titus had then risen and joined her, sitting across from her on the window sill, "There's a shadow over the universe." he had stated simply. And he hit the nail right on the head.
She turned to meet his grey eyes and considered his words. It did seem like something was wrong with the galaxy. This entire mission had an ominous cloud hanging above it.
"I get what you mean," she admitted, feeling a bit discomfited. Fear of being looked down on as a coward kept her from voicing all the anxiety bottled up inside. And yet, Titus didn't seem like that kind of pigheaded turian.
"Oh? Did Max tell you about the private briefing?" He had asked quietly.
"Yeah," Solaris had said, thinking back to the scene, "he told me you thought it might be a trap."
Titus nodded grimly, gazing for a few moments at Imorkan before saying, "Yes, I did. Still do, in fact, but orders are orders."
Solaris nodded, feeling a bit more comfortable around her commander.
"I wanted to thank you, by the way."
"For what?" Titus gave her an inquisitive stare.
"For, well… Bringing me onboard, believing in my completely untrained, untested biotic ability and enlisting me in the Cabals. I cannot tell you how much of an honor it is to serve on the Callidus." she replied, feeling strangely exposed. What's wrong with me? I shouldn't be getting so personal.
Her companion only laughed quietly, shaking his head, "You are far too modest. I saw potential in you, Solaris; potential for greatness. And don't thank me just yet; we still have this mission to do."
She smiled at that. Ever since she had arrived aboard the massive dreadnought, Titus had been almost like a father to her. That niggled at her a bit. She remembered the time they first met on Cipritine and the conversation they had. He had mentioned her father, suggesting Titus knew him personally, but never really explained.
"How did you know my father? When we first met, you said you knew him." Solaris blurted without preamble.
He looked down at his hands for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts, "Perhaps another time, Quinn. It's a long story, and we need to sleep."
Solaris nodded, she had expected that answer. She leaned her head against the window but didn't shut her eyes. Imorkan's beautiful clouds swirled and danced thousands of feet below them.
When their transport arrived, she knew neither of them had slept at all.
And now here she was, once again gazing absently out at space, but this time riding towards Omega instead of sitting in a disgusting layover station. Solaris was perched in an overcrowded row of six seats, smashed up against the portside window by a corpulent human with three chins and a bad attitude. He and his compatriot, another rather fat human, were deep in debate over the ethics of slavery, particularly where children were concerned. The triple chinned man seemed to be in favor of a younger labor force.
She did not want to listen, as she found any kind of slavery abhorrent, so she cast a glance around the passenger area. There were many families aboard with small children. Mostly turian and human, but there were a couple of Quarians around, too. Probably on Pilgrimage. Solaris thought, recalling her years of Galactic Cultures class in school.
However, divided among the passengers, her team waited with equal parts anticipation and dread. Titus nodded imperceptibly at Solaris as her eyes roamed the area. She twitched a mandible, acknowledging him without being obvious. Gaius sat in the far back, fiddling with his omni'tool, only the back of Mari's head was visible over her seat near the front, Dio, the other Cabal she had roomed with, was near Mari, and everyone else was scattered towards the back.
Suddenly, over the crackling intercom, the pilot's voice ground out, "Docking at Omega, Kima Spaceport. E.T.A, ten minutes."
Solaris's insides fluttered nervously at the statement. So close… Last step is through customs.
Despite being on a mission, she felt giddy about going to a new place. Omega was touted as the most lawless place in the galaxy, being home to gangs like the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack. Yet, some saw it as a land of opportunity for munitions dealing and black market sales. She had heard that the citizens were tough and rugged, preferring self-reliance over neighborly help. That was something all Turians could relate to.
Ten increasingly tense minutes later, the passenger ship was docked in one of Omega's ports. Once the pilot signaled it was time to offload, all the travelers stood and marched slowly towards the airlock. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion, but Solaris's mind couldn't be more hyperactive. The triple chinned human languidly waddling in front of her was frustrating beyond belief. She just wanted to get through customs and to her motel, where she would await further orders with her team.
When the whole procession made it off the transport, Solaris cut and weaved through the dimly lit reception area and swiftly grabbed her bag of gear. As long as she could slip around bag checks, she'd be home free.
But there were no customs or bag checks. Just a poorly lit space port funneling down into a cramped hall marked 'OMEGA WELCOMES YOU'. However, most of the letters were not illuminated, lending a half-assed feel to the atmosphere. Truly a lawless land if nobody cares about smuggling… Solaris thought. She half expected Aria T'loak's mercs to be policing the station, but who was she kidding? This is Omega, after all.
Solaris got through the packed lineup of travelers without any trouble. In her civilian clothes and inconspicuous baggage, no one even spared her a passing glance.
The overcrowded hall opened up to a wide market place with denizens of all species milling about. Some haggled at messy storefronts; others ate and drank at open style restaurants that lined the narrow streets. Solaris, ever the tourist, stopped to gawk a bit. At this very moment, she couldn't understand why Omega had such a terrible reputation. Nobody was getting mugged in alleyways or dealing Red Sand in the roads. It seemed peaceful enough here.
After a moment more of rubbernecking, Solaris brought up her Omni'tool and searched the address of her motel. It was a short distance away, so she decided to walk instead of take a cab.
Solaris strolled carefully into the bustling street that she had been observing. Now that she was closer, she could see the citizens more clearly.
Their hardened, suspicious faces bespoke of constant stress. Other than the passengers that had gotten off the transport, no children were to be found anywhere. Everywhere she looked she saw the flash of small sidearms. Nobody walked the streets unprotected.
This sent a pang of anxiety through her. Any one of these humans could work for the NCG. She thought as she looked about.
She spied a few of her teammates slowly making their way toward the motel, and aimed straight for Mari.
The homey woman jumped when Solaris touched her on the shoulder.
"Spirits… Don't sneak up on me like that." she said with a nervous laugh.
"Sorry, I figured it'd be less suspicious if we went to the motel together. Pretty strange to see just one turian checking in." Solaris whispered to her friend.
"Yeah. Let's go." Mari nodded, and the two made their way towards the inn.
Through the double doors of the 'The Grey Inn and Café' the pair walked, coming upon a bar-like restaurant area with a staircase in the back. A wizened old human woman stood hunched behind the bar, a cigarette dangling between her pale lips. Wispy salt-and-pepper hair reached down her back like scraggly fingers. The woman was leaned over a datapad set on the bar, her overly large bosom almost spilling out of the gypsy-esque dress she wore.
Solaris and Mari went up to greet the old crone, but she spoke first.
"Welcome to The Grey," the woman said in a gravelly, rasping voice, "My name is Jo, and I run this place. Rooms are up the stairs. As long as you pay rent, I don't give a shit how long you stay. Don't try anything stupid; I'll kick your asses out on the street if I smell trouble. Now, do you two want a drink?"
Solaris had no idea how to respond to that. Jo simply puffed on her cigarette and looked over them shrewdly.
"Just two rooms please." Mari stepped in, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder.
"Right," Jo rasped, "Like I said, up the stairs. Take whatever rooms you like, rent's thirty creds per night." She gestured towards the staircase with her smoldering cig. The two turians transferred the money to the crone's register and hurriedly vacated the lobby.
"She's certainly interesting." Solaris quipped once they had arrived on the second floor. Mari only shook her head, smiling wanly.
Solaris opened the first unlocked door she found, Mari the one across the hall from it. They gave each other a friendly look before entering their respective rooms.
Later through the course of the day, though day and night were indistinguishable on Omega, more of the team began to show up. First came several of the Infantrymen, Remus, Nero and Olivia. Then, Titus showed up with another Cabal, Dawn. Slowly but surely the whole team assembled, silent as a stalking snake. Dio and Stan were the last to arrive.
Days passed, but no orders came. To help with her growing restlessness, Solaris made a point to get to know every single member of the team. There were fifteen of them in total; seven Cabals and eight Infantrymen. She knew most of her Cabal teammates, like Titus, Gaius and Mari, but befriended Dawn, Dio and Stan easily.
Dawn was an outgoing woman, easily twenty years older than Solaris. She had dark plates, almost the color of charcoal, and simple white tattoos. Her eyes were a dusky yellow orange, reminiscent of a late Palaven sunset.
Dio was an interesting guy. He had a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor with a rich Xerceo accent. Dio- short for Diocletanius- was of middling height and he seemed pretty young, twenties perhaps. He had nearly white plates and barely visible gray tattoos.
Stan was a character as well, always there with a funny story or joke. He reminded her of Gaius, actually, in his appearance, save for his stark green eyes. Eustace was his birth name, but everyone called him Stan. Why, though, she had no idea.
The Infantrymen took longer to make friends with. Like on the layover station, they seemed to distance themselves from the Cabals, out of distrust or habit, she did not know. After some finagling on Solaris's part, they finally warmed up.
Vera was the most open of all them. She was very friendly by nature, but was soft-spoken as well. Her light grey plates contrasted with her complex olive colored tattoos.
Tiberius contrasted the most with Vera. He had a no-nonsense air about him; humor seemed like a foreign concept to him. His plates were dark gray with pale blue tattoos matching his eyes. He matched or even surpassed Titus's age of forty years, if the cracks and divots in his plates were anthing to figure by.
Nero and Olivia were twins; a rarity for the turian species. Though their genders differed, the casual observer could never tell them apart. From reddish plates to white tattoos and solemn gray eyes, they were identical. Only Nero's extraordinary height gave it away.
Seneca was tough. She was burly for a female turian, with a broad face, short mandibles and muscular arms. Black blocky tattoos fit her personality, as well as her unyielding, flinty eyes. Despite the rough front, Solaris found that Seneca had a soft spot for Quarian music and literature.
Remus and Iulia were inseparable. They were not related by any means, but their bond was so close, they appeared to be siblings. Even with their closeness, one could see that they were the complete opposites of each other. Iulia was gentle and shy; so much so that Solaris mentally questioned her capability as a soldier. Remus, on the other hand, was so gung ho about guns blazing and fighting he seemed more krogan than turian. His average gray plates and pale red tattoos once again contrasted with Iulia's. Her face was thin with deep reddish coloring and silvery tattoos.
Last but not least, there was Lucus. His plates were almost as dark as Dawn's, with unassuming dark orange tattoos. He was young, Solaris's age perhaps, and was extremely quiet. When the team was sitting around talking, he'd curl his small frame up on a chair in the corner, reading; detached from the camaraderie. Like with Iulia, she doubted his combat prowess. How could one be so meek yet be a soldier? The concept was hard for her to grasp.
Now that the team was assembled and ready to go, it was all about waiting.
…and waiting…
…and waiting…
Finally, after almost two weeks of doing nothing, the orders came in on Titus's 'tool.
It gave the address of the NCG complex, some extraneous details concerning guard routines and schedules. But it was the final sentences that kindled both anxiety and fire in Solaris's heart.
You have your orders. Be ready, stay sharp. The time has come.