Chapter XXVIII – Stars and Ships, Pt. II

The Heavy – Cause for Alarm

xxxx

I exhaled a long breath, letting my head bow over the occupied medical bed of a Contractor frigate, my face and armor bloodied and torn up but I was still going. My counterpart was down.

Corra had overexerted herself during the boarding raid, blacking out from the best I could tell. A few supplement IV injections and her internals leveled to normal but she remained out. Not being a doctor, it was a bunch of guesswork, but it seemed to be working. I figured that her sleeping it off was the best thing really, rather than facing the stress and trauma while already tired. I scanned her over with my omni-tool quickly, making sure I hadn't overlooked any wounds incurred. She was fine otherwise.

I eased away, glancing around the medbay for a moment before focusing on a small mirror, then starting over, picking up a bit of gauze and some antiseptic on my way. As I glanced at my reflection, I could tell the damage wasn't that bad. Head injuries just bled a lot, making the little abrasion on the side of my temple seem like a big problem. As I dabbed at it, wincing slightly, it didn't seem too bad. A few seconds and I was cleaned up, most of the blood gone from my face. A few spots on my armor, but the once spotless TIER assassin armor was nearly wrecked. Most of the paint, even after being repainted with the 517th colors, was gone. Chipped, burnt, or scratched off. Several armor plates were cracked, like where the needle had impacted the chest. Nearly a quarter of the plating generators were shorted out and didn't do anything.

I turned away from the mirror, set down the antiseptic and tossed the gauze aside, and tried to forget the few silver strands I'd seen creeping into my eyes. I blundered out of the medbay, right until I saw the strange layout and realized I was still in a hostile ship that hadn't been scrubbed. Drawing my shotgun and holding it my left hand, I started sweeping with my omni-tool as I eased out of the bay and into a shoddy looking mess hall, making sure there were only two of us aboard.

xxxx

We were still in FTL. I sat at the helm half awake, still holding the 'wheel' steady out of habit. I knew I could have gotten up and walked around as I had before… at least temporarily.

Well, we were going to be in FTL for a while yet. The Omega relay was still hours away. So far so good, but I was worried what we would find when we got the relay. The Contractor knew we up and ran, but maybe his ships were rolling into Illium for something else. At least we were smart enough to shut off all comms so that he couldn't antagonize us.

So there I was leaning on my left elbow with my face weighing down my palm and slowly sliding down as I gazed ahead transfixed by the flux about the ship at the encroaching flutter of my eyelids.

"Forrest!" An Asari began behind me, sending me bolt awake in an instant and looking back at Corra as she stood at the edge of the cockpit with her right hand against the wall. She smiled faintly. "I… Are we in the clear?"

I nodded, quietly setting my revolver back down with my right hand and then gesturing for her to sit in the co-pilot's seat. "Yeah. For now. You alright?"

Corra did look a lot better, but she moved slowly. "I feel rather lethargic… and my nerves tingle as though I was electrocuted."

"You overdid it back there." I shook my head, looking back ahead as she sat down and crossed her legs. "And you blacked out."

"Oh goddess.. I did faint, didn't I?"

"No, you blacked out." I insisted, a small smirk on my face as I remembered past arguments about the terminology.

"I'm sorry, but I do not see the difference."

"Fainting is for no reason, blacking out is because of gunshot wounds, getting clobbered in the head, pushing too hard…"

"I take it you've had some experience with fainting in the past."

I went to shoot Corra and annoyed glare, but she was trying to grin or smirk impishly, lips pulled back weakly. I said nothing and looked back ahead. Chuckled silently.

We didn't say anything for a minute.

Then Corra spoke up, voice barely audible over the hum of FTL. "Forrest, I… I can't do this. I can't be a commando."

I looked over at her. The Asari in commando leathers had her head bowed, tears at the corners of her eyes as she stared at her hands folded loose in her lap. I thought for a moment, tried to figure out what to say. "There's nothing we can't do, Corra. But there are the things we want, things we strive for. That's what keeps us going while we do what we need to live."

"But… I can't even see anything past this life anymore. I cannot envision anything besides violence and destruction!" She protested.

"Good. Because that's what we need to focus on right now. Maybe you don't see another life right in front of you, but it's still there somewhere. Just tucked back for safe keeping." I shook my head, almost laughed as I realized I couldn't think about anything else beside the three years at war with two different Contractors. "This life of running, killing, and then running some more… it isn't good, Corra. I don't like it. There's times I wish it was just over with."

"But... you keep fighting. I don't understand."

"Every time I imagine giving up, or trying to live a normal life… I realize the Contractor would kill me. Hell, I know I'd just be the first. No way I could do that to the people I loved."

"That's who you are, though! I did not chose to be a part of this conflict, but it drug me in regardless!"

"Corra, I didn't chose this either. I was just strong enough to fight back when the Contractor came after me. Same goes for you."

"I wasn't strong enough to fight back." The Asari sniveled. "You saved my life right from the start."

"Yeah, just as somebody else saved mine." I scowled, vaguely remembering the bounty hunters back on earth. "Point is, we've got a responsibility."

"I'm sorry… I don't intend to appear weak, but -" Corra started, swaying from her seat and then starting towards me. She didn't quite make it as the armrest was in the way, but she still slumped forward, face falling into the crook of my neck as she began to sob.

I was hesitant for several moments. Not quite sure what to do, or even if I could trust her being that close. Finally I set my left hand on her back, stroking her shoulderblades. We might have been there for minutes. It seemed like a bloody long time. "Corra, it's not just your life in your hands anymore. I'm counting on you now. People you've never met are counting on you. And through all this, we need people willing to fight for a bigger cause. We need you."

She stopped her slow sobs but didn't raise her head as she spoke. "I won't let you down. Promise."

xxxx

Well, Corra took the helm for a while, insisting that she knew how to fly, at least had read all the materials given out for training, and could navigate to the Omega relay, so that left me to clean up the bodies strewn about the Contractor frigate. That was a fairly easy task, and I drug each dead merc to the cargo bay airlock.

It was the Contractor mechanized armor that gave me real fits. Even missing an arm, it was heavy as hell. I crouched down next to it, hesitantly reaching to remove the faceplate.

Five weeks.

My old squad was more than likely hunting me down already. I paused with my right fingers over the helmet release, suddenly unsure if I wanted to face the pilot underneath. If it was Sam, if shit had really gone down that way…

The release activated.

It was an Asari operator.

I sighed, my head bobbing in relief. I needed to fucking move. I wasn't going to be too late to help out my own squad. They had trusted me with their lives. I was the responsible one this round. I wasn't going to let them die. Or, knowing the Contractor, worse.

I began dragging the Contractor mech armor backwards towards the airlock, making it so far as the main deck before I tripped over a rifle. As I got back up and picked the rifle up, I realized it was a modernized version of the HF1 needle driver. A strip of needles along the stock, ten shots to be precise. It even had a leather strap from foregrip to butt, so I slung it over my shoulder and continued dragging the machine down the ship.

The Doomsday armor was at the top of the body pile when I finally stepped back, almost smirking to myself. Corra and I had done alright, all things considered. We'd made a mess of their ship, that was for sure. Space the bodies and we'd be good to go.

I started as I turned around.

Corra was standing right behind me, staring at the pile of corpses. She seemed absent as she asked, "Do you get used to it? The bodies, I mean."

I nodded. "For better or worse. Can't say I feel much towards 'em now."

"I'm sorry I wasn't more help getting out of Illium."

"Hardly." I scoffed, gesturing towards the stairs and back to the mess hall. Hopefully there was food and water there, and I could get my mind of flushing the trash into space as soon as we got out FTL. "Corra…. I couldn't have done it without you. Hell, I wouldn't even have tried."

She seemed to be blushing as she looked down at the stairs. "Please, there's no need for flattery… I didn't do much of anything."

"You pulled your weight and then some." I pointed out. "That's more than most can do."

"Do you really mean it?" The Asari asked, looking over at me as we made our way across the upper level to the corner dedicated to a mess area.

"Yeah. I really do. I don't know anyone who's taken up the fight so quick." I shook my head and began sacking cabinets. All I wanted was a protein bar.

"When you were on a commando squad," Corra began, having found a whole crate of supplements and offering me a bar of some nature before I took it and bit into it after only checking to make sure it was levo-based. Then she watched me intently. "When was that exactly?"

"Years ago." I replied with a full mouth. Contractor food tasted like dog food. Sad I knew what to compare it to.

"But when exactly? What years? What squad?"

"The 517th." I managed, trying to deflect her questions. "A squad that hasn't been around for a while."

"That's an understatement." Corra glanced down at a bottle of water and froze in place. "I… I researched every squad from the 1st to the 600th. The 517th was disbanded at the beginning of the 21st century."

"2013, exactly." I admitted. "You remember who the final members were?"

The Asari rubbed her forehead for several seconds. "The names were redacted. I believe it said three Asari and one unidentified."

I only nodded.

"No." Corra almost laughed, shook her head and stared me right in the eyes. "That's impossible. Two-thousand thirteen was before the relay was open, before first contact. There's no way you could have been on that squad. You're lying to me."

"I'd be lying if I denied being there for the fall of the first Contractor in twenty-twelve." I winced, taking a step towards the bridge only to have Corra step in front of me.

"Why is there no mention of this? Of the first Contractor, of galactic war that you spoke of?"

"You know what they say… history's written by the victors. And we didn't win."

"You intend for me to believe that the relay was open that early, that you happened to sneak out into the rest of the galaxy?" Corra growled. "Do not take me for a fool."

"I don't take you for a fool." I shrugged, leaning back against a tabletop. "I figured you'd dig down to the truth sooner or later."

"What truth? That you've been able to activate relays and jump into the future?" Corra mocked, fire in her eyes. "Are you going to try and convince me that I'm the younger here?"

"I dunno if I'd consider myself the older, but I was born before you were." I replied, watching her twitch, getting more and more riled up. "I've been out of the fight for a long time."

"Oh, I suppose you've been in cryo, waiting for a good time to return."

"No," I began, a bit of irritation rising. "I died in 2012. I got a second chance when I was rebuilt."

"You say rebuild as though you were a machine."

"I…" I started, looking down to my armored hands. "If you really want to know, I need to know that I can trust you."

"I have to wonder if I can trust you."

"My arm isn't the only part that's cybernetic. My entire nervous system was converted with nanotech. Still acts organic, though."

"You could have fooled me." She muttered, setting her water and protein bar down, then leaned against the table facing the opposite direction. "A cybernetic nervous system. That's why an EMP grenade knocked you out."

"Yeah."

"I don't like being lied to. Especially not when I have entrusted you with my life."

"I didn't lie to you, Corra." I defended. "I just left out a few key details until I knew I could trust you."

"You can't trust me any more than I could trust…some cyborg machine." The pseudo-commando scowled and shoved off from the table, began pacing several meters away. "And yet here we are."

"Yet here we are." I repeated. "I'm sorry, Corra. Life would be a lot easier if I was a good liar. I wouldn't have to face myself that way. You wouldn't have to either."

"I don't want to hear your justifications. It doesn't change the fact that you mislead me."

"And you haven't done the same to me? It's a means of survival out here." I paused then added, turning the tables and pushing the ball back to her. "You haven't told me about your family."

Corra stammered with her mouth open. "That's entirely separate! My family doesn't define me in the same way that being a cyborg would!"

"We don't always get to chose what defines us." I noted.

"Don't compare your systems to my family. You know nothing of them!"

"And you don't know anything about my cybernetics."

"If you try to insult family one more time…" The Asari glowered, a finger raised and pointed at me from three meters away. Then she turned and began towards the bridge at a huffy pace.

"Corra." I said, pushing off the table and taking a step forward. She stopped but did not turn around. "My family's been dead for well over a century."

For several seconds the Asari just stood there, glancing at me out of the very corner of her left eye over her shoulder. Not a word was said before she started off.

I stood there and shook my head, glanced down to the floor. An empty feeling just above my heart, pulling my throat tight as I tried not to take it personally. The Reaper War had changed the face of cybernetics. The once bright future was now a minority to be shunned, feared, and loathed.

I was in the dead middle of that crowd.

After a minute of standing there, I finally moved off in search of the armory. Repairs and modifications could set my mind at rest. Hopefully.

xxxx

So there I was, flexing the knee of my armor as I fitted it back onto my leg and clamped it down in place. It looked the same, slightly bulkier along the shin. Then again, as I bent the joint all the way back and hit a release, a metal blade launched out, up parallel to the shin. Perfect for below-the-belt fighting.

Hardly honorable, I realized that. But life was increasingly valuable and increasingly difficult to hold onto. I would whatever I could to give myself an advantage.

Be that blades coming out from my knees, the heels of my boots, or the back of my elbows. There was also the reinforced left shoulder I had affixed to the Assassin armor, an angular reinforcement that covered the upper arm and rose a couple centimeters above the shoulder. More plating generators.

A reinforced armor vest, complete with fresh paint, more generators, and a mag-dock for a rifle over my right shoulder. The additional layer didn't take up much space. Snow camo, the 517th Lancer emblem on the left breast.

The HF2 Needle Driver lay on a side bench, partially disassembled. I knew I wasn't going to carry it, especially not when there were heavy duty battle rifles around. I had found one made by Legacy Armaments, a solid grey rifle that resembled a stripped-down Vindicator with the heavy match barrel exposed, a thin panel protecting the shaver and accelerators while the front of the trapezoidal frame was only a skeleton. I had done a few tweaks to the coils, gotten a little more pep out of them, and adjusted the shaver to chip larger projectiles. A Model 678 Vintage. Semi-automatic, docked to my back.

I was looking for another project. Being as we were on a small frigate, there weren't a whole lot of prototypes or really many spare parts. Just enough to patch up what we had. A few spare pistols, all M6s, and a few more Model 678 rifles. Not a whole lot I could use. One Salarian set of armor. I leaned over the workbench, looking at a box of coils that were labeled: main command – send for recycle.

The door opened behind me. Out of instinct my hand dropped to the revolver on my right hip as I spun around.

Corra.

Arms by her sides, hands loose. Not a threat. I softened. She offered a small, forced smile as her eyes completed their scan of the armory and fell on me.

"Hey." I nodded as my hand slipped off of the MR13 and hung by my side.

"Hey." She repeated. Silent for a moment. Rather solemn. "If we are to talk of truth, then I should be equally as accountable."

I raised my eyebrow.

"This facepaint…" Corra began, gesturing to the blue bandit mask, "was to cover up my own family. I doubt my father was actually Salarian. I shouldn't have any markings."

"Pureblood." I observed.

"Yeah. In many circles, that would be despised even more than cybernetics." She scoffed, looking down with tired eyes.

"So you never knew your father?" I inquired.

"No. Mother never spoke of that. She was a commando, so a fair assumption would be fraternization."

"A commando, huh?" I wondered out loud, for the first time hearing something about Corra's family. "She still on duty?"

"I have no idea." Corra murmured. "I have not talked to her in years, and certainly not since I left Thessia. She tried to convince me that being a commando was not a proper life. Even made me swear not to join training." A snort. "Well, I didn't join official training. But I still ditched her."

"And she never talked about her past?" I wondered aloud.

"Not as a commando. She took a few decades off when I was younger, but then she was generally on assignment. She shared no details of her military service and no clues as to my father. I knew well enough not to ask."

Well, Corra didn't seem very happy about that and I couldn't say I blamed her. That seemed like a low move especially for someone still a commando. I muttered: "Senyalis…"

"Pardon?" There was confusion about her face for a moment.

"I'm just trying to remember. I knew a Senyalis before."

"In twenty-twelve?"

"Yeah." I replied. "Kala Senyalis. She was a Spectre when I knew her. Any relation?"

"I have never heard the name. My mother was Senara."

"You know what unit she served on?"

"No."

"When she served?"

"No."

"She didn't tell you any of it, did she?"

"No. If I were to guess, she blocked it out for her own sake over mine."

I shook my head. Maybe that was how you dealt with centuries of light warfare.

The Asari shook her head and was silent for a long second. "Were you really around that long ago?"

"Yeah. So was the Contractor."

"And you were with a group of commandos?"

"Yeah."

"We barely had the cybernetics to replace limbs before the Reaper War… who could have possibly had nanotechnology that long ago?" Corra asked with narrow eyes and unyielding curiosity.

"The Reapers."

"But then…"

"One Reaper experimented with non-damaging cybernetics. Created an agent that could mobilize organics against the first Contractor."

"You were the experiment."

"One of eight. Contractor hunted the rest down."

"So then what happened? How… er, how did you die?"

"Well…" I drawled and took to pacing about the room. "Things really didn't go as planned. That one Reaper got crushed. The Contractor sent the galaxy into shambles before we took him down. Then another Reaper tried to reprogram me to hunt down my squad. So I spaced myself."

"You intentionally killed yourself?" Corra looked at me with startled disappointment.

"Sort of, yeah." I admitted. "I didn't really have many choices by then."

"Well." Corra shook her head. Sounded like she was being sarcastic, and I couldn't really blame her. "So how long have you been… back?"

"Five, no, six months." I shook my head. Seemed as though a lot had gone wrong during that time.

"I thought it was amazing enough that you had a cybernetic arm." Corra laughed quietly. "But to know you're a Reaper cyborg…"

"Just don't try to disassemble me." I cracked with a dull smile.

"I can still ask you questions, can I not?"

"You can ask whatever you want." I replied, watching the Asari with two katanas on her back as she watched me. "I might not have an answer."

Corra chuckled and looked down at her folded arms. She seemed to be taking it in good spirit. That was a relief. "So where are planning on going?"

"Omega." I shot back, signaling towards the door as I started forward and towards the bridge.

"You can't be serious!" Corra protested. "Out of all the places in the galaxy…why Omega?"

"Part of the Lancers are stationed there." I responded as we made our way around two inactive holoprojectors and up towards the bridge. "Plus I know Aria."

"Aria – Aria T'Loak? You're friends with her?" Corra exclaimed, a quick burst of speed in her step so that she was walking next to me.

"I wouldn't say we're friends. But we've got the grudging respect not to kill the other."

Corra let out a laugh, like she was going nuts, nearly doubling over with her outburst. "We're actually going to the worse place in the Terminus?"

"There's worse." I shrugged real nonchalant-like as I sat down in the pilot's seat and kicked my feet up onto the dashboard centimeters from an inactive holo. "Just have your guns ready. And you'll probably want a combat knife from the armory."

"I don't believe it." As I glanced over, Corra was staring into space and grinning. "I've wanted to see Omega for years."

"Well, now's your chance." I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "It'll sure make you appreciate nice places."

"Strange how things will fall into their place." Corra murmured, setting a hand on my right shoulder as she looked out of the frigate. "I'm sorry about earlier. I should have had a bit more understanding for what you've had to under."

"It's a'ight. I'm used to people overreacting about the cybernetics."

"Goddess, that makes it worse."

"Eh." I shrugged.

"Well, I still apologize. You're right in believing that we need to trust each other."

I nodded.

"I was thinking earlier…What would you call us? Mercenaries?"

"Well, we don't get paid to fight. So we're piss-poor mercs."

Corra giggled.

"And we don't have heavy armor or enough guns to take things head on, so we ain't exactly soldiers."

"We're commandos, aren't we?"

"Best I can figure." I replied, checking time. About an hour to the Omega relay. It wouldn't be far from there.

"A cyborg and a pureblood." Corra shook her head. "I don't believe this is ever what I envisioned traveling the galaxy to be like."

"You sound disappointed." I deadpanned.

Right then, Corra suddenly took a neat bow towards me and kissed my cheek. Not some short peck, either. She took a good two seconds before moving away.

"Hardly."

xxxx