The only sounds here were the beating of his heart and the soft whisper of his slow breathing.
There was nothing here. After all they could not trust him with anything more than the clothes he was wearing for the fear of what he might be able to do. He might have gone too far with the reputation he had garnered himself, but that decision was the least of his misgivings.
It had left him with all too much time to think, this empty room without anything inside of it. To recollect and ponder. To weigh and measure. To remember. And now if he had to narrow it down after all this time, thinking it all through...
It was probably that which lead him to this.
The fundamental difference in nature between him and most others. Or perhaps one could say, the ratio of characteristics, or how he derived one from the other. He shook his head as he opened his eyes, looking at the white walls quietly.
Human beings seek some things, and avoid others. That is common knowledge.
For most, they would agree that pleasure is something they would seek and pain something to avoid. From that, the complex web of half-truths, convenient lies and tangled conditions would sprout outward to form what is known as a person.
And to find pleasure and avoid pain, it becomes necessary to venture out into the world, for there is only so much that exists within one person. Only so much 'human'. And that is something that is worn down every day.
To derive pleasure it is necessary to go out into the world and interact with other people. To seek out the new things and cast aside the old. To die as the yesterday, for the sake of the tomorrow to continue onward.
Yet, that is also the greatest source of pain.
Desire.
Some learned men thus teach distance, yet few could possibly truly reach the end of such a road. To shun the outside and seek only that which lies within is not something a human can do. In a sense, to reach such a place one must be either a beast or a god.
And he was neither.
Yet he shunned pleasure — willingly and knowingly taking on pain. Hoarding it for himself, madly giving away any and all happiness to anyone and everyone he met without discrimination, seeking something that did not exist anywhere in the world. Something that only existed within himself.
It was probably that, which lead him to that place back then, and thus here once more as well. The winding road of hypocrisy and self-refutation for the sake of self-affirmation, where he sought to derive pleasure from within, despite not shunning the without.
A hollow chuckle echoed quietly, breaking the silence that had long grown nigh-unbreakable.
What falsity.
;
Emiya sighed, hefting Shepard up a bit higher on his back as ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲e͔̮͈ͅ continued moving. She kept sliding down, whenever his attention slipped even for a moment. Something that kept happening more than he would have liked, considering his current state.
It wasn't far now. He could drop off Shepard and then get back to it, before Henell could move too much around. The Protheans are—dedicated my whole life to this—I'm sorry, Fal—Thank you! Thank you all for this great honor—One must always take great care when excavating—Friends and colleagues, all getting married and finding personal happiness she never could—But, professor! Please, you must—Emiya shook his head.
Most of the... unusual effects still lingered, but ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲e͔̮͈ͅ was able to suppress most of it by now. Breathing slowly and emptying his mind worked relatively well, though he still had a killer headache and his ears felt like they were constantly ringing. Strangely it also almost seemed like Shepard's presence had helped him shrug off the worst of it. Of course, that was the least of ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲is problems at the moment; at this rate it wouldn't be long before the reserve power ran out too, after which things would really start deteriorating irrevocably. The artificial gravity is getting weaker. It will probably shut down soon.
Someone would have to fix the power soon.
The cruiser's mainframe is down, but there are still several smaller computers on. Omnitools, firearms, portable scanners and tools. So even though he could no longer track the fight through the security cameras, he could roughly follow along through the wireless signals of the various smart devices. H̫̪̩͍̙͍͖e̮̖nell hadn't been wearing any, but given ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲er location and the distinct lack of any mass effect fields corresponding to a Blink, he was certain that she was still moving on foot.
The fight had taken place on one of the lower levels, where most of the work-spaces and shared personal quarters were, where no one should be anymore right now. Most of the asari crew should already be with Benezia. Or so ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲e͔̮͈ͅ hoped, at least.
Which meant for now she was away from everyone, leaving Henell stuck in an already evacuated section, effectively harmless. With the power out, none of the elevators would work and any blast doors would pose a major hindrance to anyone looking to move through the starship. Depending on how well H̫̪̩͍̙͍͖e̮̖nell knew the ship's layout—and still be capable of thinking and planning a route—she might well be isolated and spend hours just wandering around in circles. As long as she couldn't teleport, that is. I have time to recover. But the question is... Will she recover in the meantime as well?
He hadn't seen her healing from any of his blows. H̫̪̩͍̙͍͖e̮̖r broken arm, the cuts he had been able to inflict; the damage had remained unchanged. Instead she had merely been shrugging it all off, moving despite the massive wounds. That last exertion had also seemingly burned through ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲e͔̮͈ͅr eezo nodes, but that still left her scream and the brainwashing she could inflict on others.
At least now I know what it is she was doing with that wail, even if that only means that I know it is impossible to protect people from it or to reverse any damage already done. In that sense, it really was very similar to a Dead Apostle incident. Once one had been affected, there was no salvation left to be given. Only a quick and merciful end to their suffering.
H̫̪̩͍̙͍͖e̮̖ would need to finish this up before—
"Halt!"
He ignored the ghostly shout recognizing it for the false memory it was, continuing forward and intent on reaching the armory just up ahead.
Shepard shook his shoulders, hitting him twice. "Hey, stop!"
"Hnn, what?" He blinked looking up, and realized that he was staring at a pair of asari commandos pointing heavy pistols at him. Their wary stances and hostility was obvious, how had he missed them? "...Right."
Setting Shepard down slowly, he eyed the two and did his best to ignore the visual distortions. He inhaled slowly and focused on sorting out the shadows from the real. He had already done this once before, in the aftermath of Thessia. He hadn't been certain whether it had been the cybernetic scrambler or the brief meld he had experienced with Tyra, but now he was fairly certain that it wasn't related to his brain implants. Breathe, and peer through the distortions.
"Put your hands up! Who are you? How did you get here?"
One of the commandos was shouting at them now, and Shepard hastened to reply with a confident and commanding tone. "We aren't your enemies; put down the guns. We were just a part of the Alliance dinner party, but we were separated from the others."
The two asari looked at each other, their guarded stances betraying nothing. One of them raised a hand, flashing through several hand-signs rapidly. Negative. Hostiles. Detain. Take big one down first. Emiya sighed, inhaling slowly as he shook his head at the unfamiliar information. How do I know commando hand-signs...? His temples were pounding, but he thought he could hear a familiar voice up ahead. Fairly certain Anatha is just around the corner.
"Justicar Anatha! Get over here!"
All three women were startled and both muzzles swiveled to him, but he didn't particularly care at the moment.
"Hands in the air! Both of you, now!"
The Matriarch appeared behind the shouting commandos, not many seconds later. "Who is shouting here—You."
Her eyes narrowed and locked onto Emiya and for a moment he was certain she was going to attack. The commandos who had been getting worked up blinked, suddenly not certain what was going on as their heads swiveled back and forth between the two of them. He merely snorted, crossing his arms at her reaction. She's not sure whether Benezia knows I'm here. She's sworn herself to follow her order's for now, meaning that even if she wants to she can't just attack me until Benezia okays it.
"Anatha. Boy, am I glad to see you." Shepard grinned, before thumbing at one of the two guards. "Tell these two idiots to put down their guns, before my friend here puts both of them through the wall."
He didn't particularly care if he had to knock a few of them down. In fact, it might even serve as stress relief and to establish some authority here, since he would need their help. Okay, grab the left one and slam her into the right one. Then use them as cover against Anatha and leg it back to...
"I am glad to see you well and unharmed, Shepard," the Justicar said, eyes firmly still on Emiya and he paused in his thoughts, waiting to see where this would go. "I see you brought... a guest."
Is she probing whether Shepard smuggled me onboard the ship in the first place? How much did Benezia tell her, anyhow? Emiya pondered. Presently he said, "Benezia wanted to talk—so we did."
Anatha's only reaction was a minute narrowing of eyes, as she stared at him silently. Between them, the two commandos fidgeted as the tense silence stretched well over half a minute. Finally, she seemed to come to a conclusion.
"I see. I take it was your doing... the coordination and updates on the comms." She turned to look at the commandos, breaking off the staring contest first as she continued. "Very well, let them through and inform the others."
The two younger asari blinked, but did not question Anatha and instead only replied with a sharp, "Yes ma'am!" as they let Emiya and Shepard pass.
Around the corner, as expected they found four dozen asari all huddled and quiet in the relatively large hall, crowded around benches and tables meant for machinery and maintenance. In the darkness, lit only be a few omnitools and some hand-held torches, most of them looked up at the unexpected pair of humans walking in. But some seemed too traumatized for even that, too lost in their own memories and nursing their wounds. Luckily none seemed to be suffering from anything more serious than a broken arm.
Among them, there were only fifteen armed and hardsuit-wearing combatants—Anatha and the two guards now behind them included. No, she said to inform the others. There are three other ways to get in, which means six more commandos? So twenty-one, all in all?
He found it telling that the commandos were warily staring at the crew as much as they were keeping an eye out. With so much chaos and confusion, the seeds of distrust and dissension had already been sown deep. If it was left alone for much longer, it would probably fester and rot into something even worse.
I need to finish this quickly.
"I need five commandos," ḩ͓̩̪̼͎̣̲e said loudly, without preamble.
Anatha stopped, turning around and staring at him with piercing intensity. "And leave these asari without protection?"
Oversight. She means oversight. Even with training, hardsuits and guns, if the numbers are that unequal the commandos will have a hard time defending the crew while still having enough reserves to take out possible kshirae.
"Regardless. I need five commandos."
If he could coordinate five commandos, they could all check the blast doors and maintenance hatches to the level where Henell was and seal them. Omnitool fabricators might not be enough, but there should be some proper welding gear here as well. Once Henell was locked down, he could focus on taking out the other Ardat Yakshi. For now, it seems to be much weaker than Henell was, which makes sense now that I think about it.
He had been beaten down with age and experience, literally as it were. A mistake he wasn't about to repeat. Regardless, based on the personal comms and other data he was still able to pick up, it seemed like the second creature was not anywhere near as big of a problem as Henell was. Benezia's asari had been able to beat her back twice now, and none had been turned among them since. The difference a few centuries made.
"And some explosives. How many grenades do you still have?"
That got a reaction full of disbelief out of Anatha. "You believe I would simply hand over explosive ordinance to you?"
"Of course. You're not making any use of it, are you? And I'm the only one here who seems to be able to get anything done," he͔̮͈ͅ said with a scoff, before shaking his head. "After all, if you had done your job, we would still have power at the very least."
She bristled at his comment, balling her fists as she took a step towards him.
"Whoa, hey hey!" Shepard shouted, getting in between them on hobbling steps, holding her arms raised to keep them separated. Then, seeing as how Anatha had stopped, she whirled around on him, with an accusing look. "What the hell is your problem! Do you actually expect to accomplish anything by picking fights when there's bigger things to worry about!"
Emiya inhaled, realizing that his pounding headache might be affecting his temper. Yet, h̨e wasn't going to back down on what he had said; Anatha had been given a simple job, and now at its failure the ship was going down.
Shepard noticing his mood, walked up to him and rapped his chest with a lone knuckle. "Okay, so just calm your tits." Turning towards Anatha, she spoke with emphasis. "That goes for the both of you. Okay?"
Emiya held back a scowl, glancing momentarily at Anatha. "Fine. Suppose that puts you in charge, then."
The soldier blinked at his comment, before nodding seriously. He had intended it as a jibe, but seeing as how she was taking it at face value, he realized it might be actually better if he left the talking to her.
"Anatha, you heard him. Are you willing to get along?"
The Justicar looked as if she had bitten into something bitter, scowling at him though her eyes kept being drawn to Shepard. If it was just a matter of experience or familiarity with the Dreyn N'var, the asari were infinitely more suitable. But they obviously weren't capable of handling it; they needed him. And Shepard was the only one who seemed to have any measure of effect on his decisions.
Behind them some of the commandos were frowning as they threw circumspect glances at them, conferring quietly their worries, though he was still able to hear them. As apparently well was Anatha, their worried whispers causing her to hesitate.
"Who are they? Guests of Matriarch Benezia?"
"I saw the human woman with the Matriarch, but I do not recognize the man. But Anatha does? Are they here to help?"
"They must be, at this rate the ship will not last much longer."
Anatha scowled at the two, quieting them with just a glance before turning to look at Shepard. But the fact was, that even if she could only hear those two, everyone present had been thinking the same. Many of the huddling crew were whispering similar sentiments even now, beyond Anatha's hearing. But she must have known that, as well.
At last, with apparent and great reluctance she answered. "Very well. I shall abide by Lieutenant Shepard's advice."
All asari in earshot fell silent at that, casting confused glances at their new effective commander. The woman in question took it in stride, nodding once as she turned to Emiya.
"Alright, Spill. What's going on? Why do you want commandos?" she asked, crossing her arms as she did.
"There's two of those transformed creatures now," he began and many among the asari listening in were shocked and horrified. "But we can still handle it. The first one was stronger than the second one, and Benezia is keeping things under control there while the first one has been crippled and cannot use her biotics any more. But while the first one is no longer as dangerous in a direct confrontation, her ability to kshirae still remains."
"How do you know that word?" Anatha immediately inquired, taking two steps closer to him with fists balled.
"Benezia told us," Shepard said and caused the Matriarch to pause, managing to smooth the flare of temper momentarily. Before the Justicar could continue, Shepard nodded at Emiya. "Continue."
"Luckily, her last Blink was to a section of the ship that is now mostly sectioned off from everything else, containing her for the time being. Of course, it's only a matter of time until she can physically walk out and start wreaking havoc again," he explained.
"So what's your plan?" Shepard frowned, nodding in understanding.
"With the power out, most of the normal routes to and fro that part of the cruiser are blocked. Those that remain are much fewer, but also slightly difficult to reach. It's unlikely Henell will find her way out, but just in case we should seal those ways and ensure that she can't move out."
At the mention of Henell's name, many of the asari erupted into confused and mumbled murmurs with each other. They had all known their mission, then. Had even held small celebrations at having accomplished their missions and having been able to find and rescue the kidnapped asari professors. What a slap in the face it must be, to find themselves in this situation after all that effort. To have the one you sought to save turn on you.
A bitter feeling and one he was all too familiar with, himself.
"Why can't you just do it?" Shepard asked.
"I had intended to deal with the second one swiftly, before turning my attention back to Henell again. It's—" not as if the commandos seem to be worth anything in a fight, he almost finished that thought, before he bit it down and hastily censored his words for something more suitable. "The most effective method, since the power is down and I can't just centrally lock her in with the blast doors."
Focus, he chided himself. His headache was no excuse for letting this blow up in his face.
"Alright, that sounds good. Can your commandos handle that, Anatha?" Shepard seemed satisfied with his plan, now turning to convince the Justicar to go along with it.
"...They will have to bring along specialized equipment from storage, and if the blast doors do not work then we will have to manually shut the ventilation shafts." Anatha spoke, most of her previous hostility having melted away in the face of his plan.
"Good, then let's—" Shepard nodded, but Anatha interrupted her, as she continued.
"But there is a bigger problem. There are four large hull breaches along the port side of the cruiser that require mending, and with so much of the oxygen and heat already vented out, if we cannot restore power soon then it will not matter what we do. Another 10 minutes, and we will all be freezing and suffocating to death." She paused for a moment, gesturing at a group of four asari in technician's uniforms. "And as they have already assured me, it will be impossible to restore power or perform such large-scale repairs on such short notice. Instead, I believe we should focus on restoring enough power to communicate with the Alliance vessels, to request for immediate assistance in evacuating all personnel off this ship."
Emiya frowned at that. If the Alliance shows up, who knows how many will be affected. Shepard has been fine so far, but... He was well aware she was not the average soldier, N7 or not. Now that he knew what this 'kshirae' was, he was fairly certain that Alliance soldiers would probably be weak to it, especially given the disparity in age. With Henell it had been enough to even affect asari, but even the Maiden who had been also been turned should be able to affect humans as well. That is, if it really is based on age. Perhaps the quality of soul is more important than the quantity of years, if such a thing can be measured here.
Something to consider later, when he had the time to compile and analyze the personal information of both the converted and the fallen for comparison. For now, knowing that Shepard was aware of the danger in bringing in more people would have to be enough.
"Where are the hull breaches?" Shepard asked, expression serious and considering. "Show me on a 3d-model on an adaptive display."
One of the technicians stood up and hurried over, turning on her omnitool to show a wire-frame blueprint of the entire vessel. Along four parts of the outer hull were marked spots indicating damage. I've become too reliant on hacking for information and assumed that because there weren't any alarms, that the hull integrity had not been compromised. I should have verified it myself.
Shepard nodded, then turned to face him with a serious expression. "You can fix it, right?"
He paused, realizing that suddenly all eyes were on him. Raising a lone, questioning brow at Shepard he waited a few seconds before nodding.
"I knew it," she said as her expression bloomed into a confident grin. "That material fabricator you have is better than anything I've ever seen." Toning it down into something less toothy, she turned to face everyone else. "Everyone, listen up! This concerns everyone! The hull breaches are all on this side of the ship, as you can see, as is Henell who is down here. Hey, lift your omnitool so everyone can see to ship—good, that's better..." Gathering her thoughts one more time, Shepard cleared her throat. "We can't leave the ship; not until we know what is causing people to turn mad, or we risk spreading it. So we need to handle this, ourselves! Without letting anyone else get pulled in!"
Some of the gathered asari seemed to be encouraged by those words, sitting up straighter in the lull as Shepard paused to take a breath.
"So here's what we're going to do. Six volunteers will go around the path prepared, to ensure that Professor Henell can't escape and make more trouble. Meanwhile, everyone else will move out and join up with Matriarch Benezia, sealing the blast doors behind us to ensure that no more oxygen will leak. That way, we'll be able to able to combine our strengths and face the threat together."
Emiya's brows furrowed, as he crossed his arms. And what was he to do during all of this?
"Meanwhile, you," as if reading his mind, she said and turned to face him. "Will plug all the hull breaches and see if you can repair the engines and generator to restore power."
He blinked, not expecting that. Some part of him scoffed, telling him to refuse and to head out to just do it all by himself. But the cooler part of his head reminded him that she did have a point. I'm low on magical energy... Projections are fine, but I'm not sure if I took any further damage to my spiritual core. Meaning he probably shouldn't risk it, if he could rely on her instead. Still, he frowned and said nothing.
"But, mi—M-ma'am..?" The asari technician floundered for a moment, before clearing her throat and speaking. "Even if those holes are plugged, restoring power will be nearly impossible without refitting everything! Someone Warped and blew up nearly the whole generator. You would need to replace nearly every cable there — you can't possibly think it's possible to fix something like—"
"Sure, I'll get it done."
The technician fell silent, blinking owlishly at him with her mouth still hanging open, left quiet mid-sentence by his confident words. Even Shepard seemed surprised and hesitant at his self-sure attitude.
But within a few seconds, she regained her grin. "...Alright then. Let's hustle, people!"
;
"But sir, something is obviously wrong. Think of the diplomatic fallout if we were to simply stand by and something were to happen!" Kyle shouted, his temper already flaring up.
Maeda exhaled, raising a hand to rub his temples. "I am well aware. But even so, we will have to wait until we receive the go-ahead from Arcturus Station. This situation is far beyond either of our pay-grades — you know that as well as I do, Major."
"To hell with the politics! There must be something we can do! We still have personnel onboard the cruiser, isn't that a good enough reason to act!?"
"It is reason enough to steer clear as far away from them as possible!" Maeda roared, actually standing up with a start. Do you know how bad this already looks? A celebrated—beloved even!—asari icon invites the Alliance aboard her vessel and mere hours later all contact is lost and her ship is dead to the world? What do you think it will look like if we then board the ship and find whatever was the cause? Something serious enough to knock out every system? Humanity is in a precarious enough a position with the Citadel and Thessia as it is!"
He sat down again exhaling deeply as Kyle looked away, obviously just as perturbed and worried by the situation as he was.
"Besides, we're groundpounders. We don't take part in a starship boarding operation. Even when... if the command does come, it will be out of our hands." Maeda got up, walking over to Kyle and placing a hand on the absent-minded man's shoulder to gain his attention. "You need to keep well clear of this incident, more than anyone. If this does blow up, it would grind your career to a halt. So keep your head cool and toe the line, Major."
"...Very well."
Arnaut nodded slowly, exhaling as he turned around to leave the office. But as the automatic doors closed behind him, those words had long since been pushed out of his mind.
"Shepard was still listed under my command, since she was off the rosters due to her medical. That means..." He considered out loud, thoughts whirling in his head. "If I play my cards right, I could, I might well be able to muscle in on the boarding operation."
And once he did, he would get down to the truth of all this. There was something rotten going on, and he was certain that the risks would well be outweighed by the rewards. If he did uncover whatever was at work here, then he was certain that it would propel him to ever-greater heights.
;
Emiya eyed Shepard, frowning despite himself.
She seemed to be in her element here, shouting at people and getting everyone ready to move. Of the assembled asari none were younger than her—most well over thrice her age— yet she had managed to grasp authority in a matter of minutes. She's certainly changed.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" Shepard asked, walking back to him.
He looked up, uncrossing his arms as he kicked off the wall. "I've been ready since we got here."
"Okay, let's go! Engineering, here we come."
Shaking his head, he placed a hand on his hip. "As if. You're going with them."
She followed where he was nodding with her eyes, staring at Anatha for a few seconds before she sighed. "Can't fault me for trying." She shrugged easily, before asking more quietly. "...Will you be alright? You've been pretty quiet."
"It's fine now, I figured something out. But..." He hesitated, sighing. "Thanks."
Shepard blinked, freezing mid-step to look at him and their eyes met. A second passed and her shoulders slumped as she let out a gust of light laughter. "Alright, you can explain it to me later, once we're not all facing imminent death."
Emiya too had to give a wry little half-grin at that, feeling oddly light as he turned to walk away. Giving one last wave, before he felt her eyes peel off his back he left.
Moving past the commandos' outer watch again, he kicked off into a run. Just as he had originally planned a route for the commandos and himself to be able to seal up Henell as quickly as possible—a plan that now required some adjusting, since he wasn't participating, but he trusted Shepard had that well in hand—now too, he had a strict route he needed to follow, to ensure that he got all of the leaks as quickly as possible.
"First things first...—Trace, on"—begin projection,
Reassembling his helmet, he ensured that he now had ample oxygen supplies just in case the hull damage had already caused the interior pressure and life-support systems to drop to the red. A mere half minute later the artificial gravity finally turned off, leaving him floating in mid-step for just a moment.
There it is.
The power had gone out long ago already, but that had not meant that everything would turn off all at once. The eezo core eddy currents and the induction lag of the various system, coupled with the persistence of the massive mass effect fields, meant that the 'lights would stay on' for a while longer even after the power was nominally lost. Meaning that the electrically more demanding systems, such as the life-support and kinetic barriers, must have already gone off-line well over a minute ago.
I should hurry then.
Bouncing off walls, h̨e kicked forward until he reached a sealed blast door. Normally leaving it shut was imperative, ensuring that only the sections beyond were affected by the hull breach, but since he knew there were other broken and still open doors and ventilation shafts, it was meaningless. Better to actually repair the external leaks, or seal the specific rooms.
Mentally checking h̨is omnitool's various sensors, he noted the changes to ambient temperature and pressure. Then he extended a hand and exhaled, as motes of light gathered and coalesced into a golden sword. Huffing to himself as he grabbed a hold of the handle of door with his free hand, he precisely positioned the tip of the blade over a spot, carefully measuring the angle as he reflected at the absurdity of his situation. That being, that recreating a legendary golden holy sword was by far the most energy efficient method for him to open a door such as this.
The tip slid forward and through the bulk of the blast door like a hot knife through butter, piercing well over half the length of the whole blade before he stopped. That should do it.
Emiya pulled out the sword, carefully keeping his other hand still on the handle for support. With zero gravity, leveraging force was somewhat awkward and clumsy, especially since the door itself was at least five times his own mass. But by placing his feet against the wall and floor he could get himself in a position where he could directly push open the now unlocked door.
Squeezing through the now half-open door, he considered dispelling the sword for a moment before he shook his head and continued onward. I might need it to break through another door. No meaning in wasting energy, especially since it doesn't matter if anyone sees it.
Like that—after five more blast doors that required him to exercise his new universal key—he made it to the first hull breach that had been logged in a matter of minutes. His omnitool had been steadily ticking away and noting the drop in temperature and pressure, until it had nearly reached the average of cold space that should lie beyond the hull. Henell never came here, I'm sure of that. It's the work of one of the kshirae, then? To think they're working with such coordination. No, I supposed that is to be expected of one mind, shared by many.
Entering the room, he had to stop at the threshold and keep his hands firmly on the door as his eyes shot wide open at the sight.
After all, half of the structurally-reinforced stargazing window just ahead was simply gone. With shattered drinking glasses and fine cloth strewn about and floating around in the dark room, all slowly drifting towards the rend in the hull and out into the cold of space beyond, he had to consciously swallow to wet his suddenly all-too-dry throat. A gaping hole of blackness: the jagged shards of glass still sticking to the rim like great, wicked teeth on the door to the endless darkness just beyond.
Someth̨ing inside of h̨im felt an indescribable, inh̨uman and ancient terror from th̨at sight, as if expecting some great eldritch̨ design to lay just outside, waiting for h̨im in ageless vigil. Exhaling strongly, he forcefully rid himself of such intuitions and focused on what needed to be done.
Not even the stars so far off and away could be seen through the broken stargazing window as he approached it, the light of h̨is omnitool illuminating just enough of the room's remains and the shards of the glass to thoroughly blind him to such 'minute' lights.
Sighing, he took one more look around before he simply decided to seal the door. Fixing the glass pane or covering it up would be too much of a bother compared to simply closing and sealing the door properly. Compared to using Projection and Reinforcement, just closing the door would be quicker and more efficient, though using Structural Analysis to double-check his work was necessary regardless.
That done, h̨e checked his omnitool again.
The temperature and pressure had hit rock bottom, meaning that the room he was in was practically no different from the ambient space outside the hull. As well it should since he had sealed the door to ensure no more heat and oxygen escaped, Which still left him inside of the room with a broken window, with nowhere else to go but outside. But that was how it should be. That took three minutes altogether. Better hurry it up.
Traversing the inside of the ship was too time-consuming. All the blast doors and labyrinthine corridors would simply take too long to traverse through, and there was no guarantee that he would find all of the leaks anyhow.
Meaning that he should be traveling on the outside of the cruiser, along the hull where he could find the damage much more quickly.
As h̨e leaned out of the window, keeping a careful hand on the side to make sure that no matter what he was no slung out into the void, he sighed quietly. As I thought; the hull is ceramic and not magnetic.
Meaning that magnets would not function for scaling the outside. But it wasn't as if he could simply jump out and just walk on the hull either. There was nothing attracting him to the starship. The first step would just push him away and then he would be floating free into nothingness.
"Alright, fine. Guess I'll have to be creative—Trace, on"—begin projection,
The familiar nail-and-chain appeared in his right hand as he kept the golden sword in his left. Its design was rather simple, with a length of chain between a spiked nail on one end, and a ring on the other. Having been transformed out of the hair of a legendary Gorgon, its length was highly adjustable and its material characteristics were outstanding, enough so that he wouldn't feel any hesitation in using it as his literal life-line here and now.
Threading his right hand through the ring, he transferred the sword back to his right hand and made sure that the ring could not pass over the hilt. Now even without holding onto the ring directly as long as he held onto the sword, he would be attached to the ring and the rest of the chain.
With a seemingly casual flick of his left hand, the nail portion of the chain slammed down into the floor and sank in all the way up to the spiked ring at the end of the nail. Testing the nail's attachment, he was satisfied that it would hold his weight with ease. Then, he turned to the broken window and the cold of space beyond.
And then, without any further preamble or ceremony, he jumped out through the window. "Hup—!"
Emiya floated out beyond the starship freely, until the 34.6-meter long chain finally went taut and brought him to a stop. Re-orienting himself to face the cruiser, he peered at the hull and noted everything within his line of sight. This far away from any star, or other sources of light it was fairly difficult to see anything with great detail, but he still managed to detect three additional hull breaks nearby. None of which had been on the information handed to him.
Looks like this was the right call, he thought with some satisfaction as he began to pull himself back inside the room. As his boots touched the window, he grabbed a hold of the remaining window with his left hand, and then angled himself towards the nearest break, Just like jumping out of a window while holding onto a rope, to get to a lower floor. Nothing more to it...
And h̨e kicked off at as sharp an angle his position allowed towards the next hole in the hull.
Already a mere ten meters away his body was drifting so far away from the hull that he couldn't reach out and touch it anymore, but as he was about to fly past the hole he had been aiming for the chain went taut again and he stopped instantly.
Except...
Eh...? Should I have swung against the hull... Like with rappelling down a building?
He had stopped and was now hovering right 'above' the hole he had wanted to reach. But it was still outside of his reach. He tried to kick towards it, flapping and swimming in the void but managed to get no closer. Right... Looks like I'm not nearly as clever as I thought I was...
"Fine."
Astralizing the chain and reeling its weightless length back to him, he smirked as he felt the ghostly nail back in his left hand. And since he had not moved any mass, his position relative to the cruiser hadn't changed.
Raising a hand, he prepared to toss the nail into the inside of the hole in the starship's hull so that he could pull himself in, only to pause and frown at the last second. Wait, wait... Wouldn't throwing it just propel me further away from the cruiser? The mental image of throwing the nail as hard as he could, only to be sent flying in the opposite direction and flying off into space went through his mind's eye that moment. Do I have any guarantee that the nail will manage to grip securely enough for me to pull myself back in?
Looking at the nail in his hand, he frowned.
"Okay... Let's try this, then."
Turning around as best he could, he pulled back his hand and then tossed the nail out into space, with the long chain following in its wake as the speeding projectile thundered away. And as expected, the rest of h̨is body was propelled in the opposite direction—albeit at a much slower speed due to his greater mass. Damn, the length of the chain won't be enough for me to reach the hull.
Astralizing the chain again, he negated its mass yet the momentum he had acquired towards the hull remained unchanged. In fact, it increased slightly as the chain's weight disappeared off of him. Just like mass effect fields, huh?
Suddenly he had the mental image of flying through space by repeatedly projecting large swords and repeatedly 'jumping off of' them for continued acceleration. He had to chuckle, but then shook his head as he caught a hold of the hole in the hull. "Alright, time to focus..."
Fixing the leak took barely half a minute this time, and soon enough he was on his way again towards the next hole.
And the next.
And the next.
Until all that was left was the second large hole he had been able to find within reach and sight on the cruiser's hull. This one, he was sure, had been Henell's work. The bent and torn metal the tell-tale signs of an incredibly potent biotic's handiwork.
"What do you know, this really was a good idea," he told himself with a scoff of bravado, as he began to analyze h̨is fifteenth hole in his fourth minute outside the starship. He had intentionally left this one for last, as it was the one nearest to the engine room on top allowing him to pass through, so that he could close it from the inside and continue straight there from here towards his next destination.
Unlike many of the other sections, this one would actually require him to project something to fill in the hole due to the extensive damage that had been wrought here from the inside. Mostly the difference in severity was due to the cause of the breach; for most of the holes, it had been something outside the ship slamming in through the side, rather than someone from the inside causing the damage. Torfan wasn't the safest of ports, to put it mildly, so it really was no wonder there was more than a little bit of debris floating around here. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but... With the kinetic barriers off, even an errant fleck of paint can cause some considerable damage, huh...
Still, such holes were rather easy to plug, as there had been no intent to violently tear open the hull as with the first and last cases.
He suspected Henell—or whatever the intent that lay behind and seemed to be controlling her, anyhow—had made certain to have those two sections of the starship vented, just to make any repairs that much more difficult to undertake. Thus the holes h̨e had jumped out of and was now re-entering the Dreyn N'var were plenty big enough to let him pass through. For most repair crews finding something to fix such holes would be quite a quandary, even with omnitools' material fabricators.
Which by itself wasn't a problem for him, since even a relatively thin sheet of metal would be enough to plug the hole, despite their relative immensity. The problem was that he did not have that much magical energy left, notably due to his previous failure to put down Henell. A few dozen projections wouldn't be a problem, but seeing what Henell had managed to do here with a casual application of biotics, he couldn't imagine she would have been any less thorough with the engine room.
"I might have to supplement, huh..." he muttered with some distaste, not particularly thrilled by the options he had on that front.
Shaking his head, he pushed away from the now-finished repairs and exhaled. Raising the holy sword and chain in his hands, he considered dispelling them again. No point in wasting anything, he thought and tossed the length of chain over his shoulder, wrapping it around himself and finally threading through the golden sword onto his back. I wonder what those two would think of my carrying their weapons like this...
At least the weapons were securely attached and out of h̨is way now, as he starting moving again.
It wasn't far to the engine room and it didn't take long to get there, especially with none of the blast doors closed in his path and giving him a clear path on these sections. Entering the doorway and floating along the hand-railed ramp, he frowned at the destruction he beheld in the sterile light of his omnitool.
Splashes and droplets of purple blood seemed to be staining every surface, with the remains of some dozen of asari crew-members floating silently along the various corners of the engine room. It appeared almost as if they had exploded all over the walls here. Beyond the gloom and beneath the gore he could see the numerous diagnostic panels and terminals, all just as lifeless and broken as everything else in the room. With emergency power out, I'll have to fix everything manually, which isn't going to be easy. Parts of the walls and floor had been gouged and gutted out, with wires and fiber-optic cable sticking out as if they were the roots of a plant ripped straight out of the soft ground. Up ahead where the eezo core would be lying dead and cold, behind an open door to another section of the engine room he could see more bodies and remains of the destruction that had passed through here.
Repairing this conventionally would take days, possibly even weeks depending on the waiting time on some of the materials necessary for replacing broken parts. Even just restoring power and getting life-support back online would take hours for a full team, much less someone like him working all alone.
He didn't even have the schematics for most of the critical machines, much less the tools or parts.
But he could do it.
He just needed more magical energy. With a heavy heart, he checked the floating corpses as he noted the omnitool's read-outs again. Too cold and no oxygen. Can't take off my helmet here, not without fixing everything and having life-support again, he concluded and clucked his tongue at the catch-22 he was presented with.
Raising his hands, he unraveled the chain around his torso and set it aside, along with the holy sword. They would just get in the way. "I'll have to risk a few seconds."
Stepping out of his physical body, h̨e shuddered at the raw feeling. As if h̨is skin had never touched the outside world, h̨is eyes itching as if h̨e had just attempted to see through saltwater and watering in turn. Exh̨aling and shaking his head, he jumped forward towards the nearest mangled asari corpse. It was already dead and cold; utterly beyond h̨is help. So just as much̨ as the lesser amount of life remaining in the body would be an inconvenience in practical terms, in moral terms it was a much ligh̨ter matter on h̨is shoulders.
His hand shot forward, straightened fingers piercing between ribs with ease into the dead asari's chest.
Devouring a live asari for sustenance would be much more empowering, but was that really a line he would be willing to cross? Kill one to save ten. Then... Devour one to save ten? Was there really a difference? The worrying thing was that he would only know once he stood there, looking down on that threshold. Placing his other hand on the exposed hip bone of the asari, he pulled his embedded hand loose with a silent squelch and a purple splatter of droplets against his face.
In h̨is hand he clasped a dark and lifeless heart.
A rivulet of coagulated, sticky blood traced down his knuckles, still sticking to h̨im due to the lack of gravity.
It seemed like mere minutes ago he had been in a bright kitchen, surrounded by expectant and interested people, yet here he was again surrounded by death and the old choices. Warm and delicious food for others, brought only into reality by the sacrifice and devouring of others less fortunate. It always comes back down to this.
With th̨at bitter taste in his mouth, h̨e plunged his teeth̨ into the alien flesh̨.
;
"You okay?"
Shepard waved away for the nth time the concerns of Tryna, nodding to show that she was fine. The lack of gravity was actually a boon for her, since she really didn't need to support herself with both of her legs in her current weightless state. She and the others had moved out, heading towards where Benezia and the rest of the commandos should be.
She, as one of the wounded despite her protests, was located in the middle of the group along with the non-combatant asari crew of the cruiser. Anatha was taking point, while most of the commandos were spread out in the front and back. So far they hadn't run into any problems beyond a few jammed doors, but she was feeling quite confident that they would make it to Benezia just fine.
In fact, she was feeling a lot better.
Physically at least. Mentally, her worries only kept on piling up. Tryna hadn't come to aid and move with Shepard out of her own initiative, rather the Matron had only appeared beside Shepard after a discreet exchange with Anatha. That glint of distrust in the Matriarch's eyes hadn't disappeared once since she had arrived with Emiya in tow. Guess there's no repairing that broken trust anymore...
She had liked the older asari, finding her dependable and worldly down on Torfan. But there was no use crying over spilled milk now; she had to focus on keeping this disaster under control and make sure that nobody did anything stupid. She was in any condition to fix anything by slamming her head into it in her current shape and Emiya had gotten it pretty rough. So, while he was out there fixing stuff on the outside she had to focus on the inside. Because based on what she had read about Thessia, if she didn't he might well do something crazy when push came to shove.
"How much further until we reach the others?" Shepard asked, pulling her weightless self forward through the wake of all the other commandos and crew.
"It's just up ahead, through those doors and down the hallway there," Tryna answered, as if reassuring Shepard that she need not strain herself for much longer. Or rather, reminding the worried and frazzled crew surreptitiously, as many of them seemed unaccustomed to weightlessness. Huh, even with biotics I suppose not everyone would bother with something like that.
To her, it seemed like something so obvious — that if she possessed biotics that allowed her to practice weightless movement at will, whenever she wanted, that she would train and practice to master that. The possibilities were exciting and endless, in her mind. But to the asari it must seem incredibly mundane; something only a weirdo would bother with. Perhaps a fitting analogy to humans would be running. Something so incredibly basic and necessary where she had grown up, yet something few bothered to practice.
It didn't help that the cruiser's interior had been designed with artificial gravity in mind—the wide, spacious hallways and corridors, with smooth and clean surfaces lacking any decent hand or footholds to use in zero gravity—thus it required kicking off against the walls, floor or ceiling at a specific angle and timing, so that one could turn around and kick off again at the opposite side for the next kick.
"Alright, good." She nodded. "I should talk to Benezia again."
Tryna blinked, turning around as she flew through the thin air like a fish in water, giving Shepard beside her a quizzical look. "Alright, I guess that's fine."
'Guess that's fine'? What did Anatha tell Tryna about me, just to keep an eye on me or something more? She supposed that the wariness made sense since apparently, Emiya had run into several Justicars on Thessia as well. She wasn't entirely sure what their deal was, but she knew that Anatha had something of a beef with him.
There was shouting up ahead, snapping her out of her thoughts, but it didn't seem like a fight so she didn't worry overmuch. They didn't even have to slow down as a group, and a minute later as she passed by a pair of new faces she knew that it had been the outer perimeter of Benezia's group who had just noticed their arrival making noise.
Moving on ahead, they arrived at the dining hall that seemed to be packed full of asari. There were numerous small lights and heaters set up, and people were busily moving around. Just up ahead, at the far side of the room she could see Benezia through the numerous floating bodies moving through the air. It seemed almost as if she was holding court, with the way she was given plenty of space despite the crowded room straining to hold everyone.
"Lieutenant!"
Shepard blinked, turning around and peering around to find the source of the voice. That wasn't an asari—too deep a voice. And then she spotted them; four of the Alliance officers who had been here for the dinner party with her.
"Commander Boroffs," she saluted after pulling herself towards their group. "It's good to see everyone alright."
The man who had been about to return her salute stiffened and scowled, causing her to pause as she eyed the other three. They seemed downcast and troubled as well. The Commander sighed, looking away as he spoke.
"Smithwill, he... He didn't make it."
She inhaled and slowly nodded. A cold feeling; an expectation being fulfilled, formed in her gut. "Did he...?"
"We had to take him down. If it hadn't been for your warning, before..." He trailed off, eyes distant before he shook his head sighed. "Well, no use thinking about it now. We'll have to go through it all a dozen times once we get back to Arcturus station..."
Right, if someone died like that... If they had to kill a member of the Alliance Navy, there's going to be an internal investigation, she realized with some trepidation. Which also meant that the AIA would get involved, since she would inevitably get pulled in due to her connection to Benezia and Emiya in his fake identity. She could already feel the oncoming headache, just thinking about it. Things are so much simpler when you can just shoot your problems...
"If we get back, you mean..." One of the Alliance officers muttered, causing Boroffs to shoot him a silent glare.
"How are your injuries? I heard you had to undertake rather intensive surgery on Torfan." he asked, acting as if the other hadn't just spoken.
Shepard shook her head. "I'm fine. Knee's just a little busted, nothing serious. More importantly, what's going on here? Things seem like they're under control here, compared to the other side of the ship."
"That's good," Boroffs said with a nod as he discretely looked around, managing to pique Shepard's attention with the subtle gesture. "Depending on how things play out, we might have to make a run for the shuttles. The asari are full of comforting words, but I don't think they can handle this, whatever it is." Quieting his following words, he leaned slightly closer to whisper candidly. "They're refusing to call the Alliance in for aid. If it comes down to an exit involving a smash-and-grab of a shuttle, can I count on you, Lieutenant?"
She blanched.
"No!"
Boroffs blinked, leaning back with an expression of bafflement. Then, noticing the nearby asari having turned around to look at them, he leaned in to place an arm on her shoulder. "Listen—"
"No, you don't get it. Those asari who are going crazy now? They were acting just fine hours ago..." She tried to explain, but noticing his furrowed brows, she remembered what she had said earlier. "That stuff down on Torfan—the agitant by the slave pens—I don't think that was it. There wasn't anything like that involved here, and some of the asari have mutated somehow."
Boroffs frowned, biting his lip as he nodded slowly.
"But..."
Shepard grimaced, leaning closer as she whispered heated words of chastisement, ignoring wholly the difference in rank momentarily. "If we try to run, won't they just assume we've been afflicted, too?"
The Commander's sour expression of understanding showed that he did understand, even if he did not like it.
"Alright, you're right. But we can't just sit around and do nothing, either. I've tried to talk to that leader of theirs, but she keeps rebuffing my attempts to talk, saying she's busy."
"Right. I'll try to talk with Benezia—we met earlier, she might listen to me?" Shepard suggested.
He blinked, surprised as he leaned back with a frown. Just then, Tryna came floating towards them.
"Hey, Shepard, you wanted to talk to Matriarch Benezia? She'll see you now."
The redheaded soldier nodded, keeping a poker face as she noticed how Boroffs lips had tightened into a dissatisfied grmiace. "Right, thanks Tryna. Lead the way."
As she moved to follow after the commando, she could feel the stares of the four Alliance officers boring into her back. They better not start anything... Putting aside such worries for the moment, she focused on the Matriarch ahead. Moving past, above, below and sometimes right beside throngs of asari in the relatively tight space of the hall, they made it to Benezia shortly.
She was standing—or rather, floating in an upright position in the same plane as Shepard was moving in—while surrounded by numerous crew, who were regularly switching out after exchanging a few words with the Matriarch. It seems like she's busy, huh.
Yet time had been made for her.
The asari seemed to have aged a hundred years since they had last seen each other, though upon meeting Shepard's eyes, decades appeared to be shed aside.
"Anatha informed me of your assistance; thank you," she said with a wan smile. "His assistance would prove tremendously helpful in dealing with this situation—even more than it already has." She sighed then, shaking her drooping head apologetically. "Though I am afraid that given everything, I might not be able to retain my end of our agreement at this rate."
Shepard blinked, taking a second to remember what the Matriarch was referring to. Commandos are one thing, but the crew might not be able to keep quiet if they saw him. Will he even be able to get off the cruiser afterward? Given his infamy, wouldn't everyone just assume that he was the one behind all of this? No, surely he had some kind of exit strategy in mind here.
"Well, we'll burn the bridge when we get to it," she replied with some flippancy, causing the aged asari to blink queerly for a moment before smiling. "For now, let's focus on getting to one, at least. How many Ardat Yakshi are there on the move right now?"
Benezia blinks, before nodding seriously. "There are reports of two, though the other one seems to have been crippled by our mutual friend. The other one—Afea J'lana from Trelle—still remains on the loose. Had they both attacked at once, or had I been forced to contend with Henell for much longer, I do not think I would have been able to continue for very long," she explained while sighing heavily. "But with Anatha and the rest of the armed personnel here, I suspect we won't have to worry about defense for now. But..."
"Playing defense won't mean much if the ship is falling apart around us."
Benezia nodded gravely, before admitting her shame.
"Therefore, it would appear that we can only rely on him in this matter."
They floated in silence for many seconds, the hustle and bustle around them droning out everything else.
"Maybe... Maybe there's something we can still do, too."
Benezia looked up, piqued by Shepard's tone of voice. "Do continue, please."
"There was something down on Torfan — That was the thing he said started all this, I'm sure of it. Earlier when I ran into the second creature, I noticed that she had something buried in her body," she explained. "And before I could remove it, Professor Henell appeared. I'm sure she was trying to stop me, just as she originally reacted when he questioned her about it!"
The Matriarch slowly nodded.
"Then... If we could find it, perhaps we could destroy it? No, no... That would be wishful thinking, to assume there was such an easy remedy. But perhaps we could use it as a bait for a trap. Concentrate out firepower and defeat those creatures. Spread out as they are, my commandos can not do much... But if they could surround her, then it would be a different matter altogether..."
Turning her eyes back to Shepard, she returned a devious mien full of confidence to match the daring suggestion.
"Yes, yes indeed. Lying down and playing submissive has never been my preferred method. For anything," Benezia said as a spirited gleam burst brightly in her eyes. "Then, let us see if we cannot strike back."
;
The bird of prey-shaped frigate came to a rapid halt—relative to the numerous other vessels in orbit around the moon Torfan, anyhow—with the shifting of mass effect fields settling back to a mass matching that of the ambient space-time, as the frowning turian's mandibles flared slowly in response to his gritted teeth.
The Dreyn N'var is still here, then. But these readings...
In the corner of his eye, he could see the flight systems reporting the various warships positions as it automatically matched the known physical, thermal and eezo profiles to identify each vessel from the Citadel's secret database. He ignored them in favor of focusing on the readout of Matriarch Benezia's starship, his mood further blackening at what he saw.
The tightbeam hails from the various Alliance vessels reached out to him, the obviously surprised and confused Alliance personnel attempting to discern his identity and purpose here.
But he ignored all of them.
A second later the SSV Tokyo arrived, having lagged behind him in FTL transit, just as the Citadel specs had noted it would. It came to a relative halt, some three-hundred kilometers behind his vessel. The human captain—a somewhat familiar human by the name of Anderson, whose expression upon realizing who he was speaking to after Saren had arrived through the Mass Relay—would handle the talking as his 'escort'. There was no need for discussion with humans, especially given what was at stake here.
Saren exhaled slowly, rapping his claws against the armrest impatiently as he gave a glance at the ensuing communications, his infiltrators sending him the logs nearly in real-time. But only a single glance; he had more important matters to handle right now.
Namely the complete and utter disaster that was Torfan.
He had been tied up in the Thessia incident for a while, but as he received communiques from some of his contacts and spies in the Terminus systems regarding sightings of the Janiri's Sickle, he had jumped at the chance to leave. With the salarians moving in force—gobbling up all the analytics and investigations—there wasn't really anything for him to do there.
He was glad to be gone; the numerous players and puppeteers that had gathered there had left him antsy, hoping to get back to some real action. Perhaps it was merely the atavistic hunter instinct characteristic of his species, but he would much rather find a trail—no matter how unlikely and far off the chance of actually succeeding was—and follow that in hopes of finding his prey. Besides after his performance with getting that captured human to spill the beans and cooperate, no one could possibly find fault with his contributions there.
So he had left, setting course for the Terminus systems.
It had taken him a whole day to travel the distance that the Janiri's Sickle must have crossed in a matter of mere hours, given the timeline of sightings around the Thessia Relay and the Terminus contact, and meet with the contact in person. Having reviewed the data and verified it he had to admit that it was real, regardless of how ludicrous it was.
He knew that Tela Vasir's starship had been built for speed, but this was ridiculous. No matter how he looked at the specs of that over-sized anti-matter engine on that thing, it could not have possibly accelerated and retarded that quickly under its own power. Even when he dismissed the concerns of static build up to calculate whether it was at least possible in theory to travel such a distance in the given time, it was still an impossible traversal.
Even if the Janiri's Sickle had no need for static discharging, or slowing down in able to be able to land on a planet, free to accelerate at full thrust in his theoretical calculations, it would still have not been possible.
Especially since none of the avenues in that quadrant for resupplying the rare fuel had been visited.
Saren had checked, double-checked and triple-checked that.
Which left only one conclusion.
It must be related to the Mass Relays. The corvette disappeared during a jump, never arriving in Thessia. Which meant that this 'Redhax' possessed an understanding of the Mass Relays that far surpassed anyone else's in the galaxy. With perhaps one exception. But I dare not ask Sovereign.
He absolutely must convince the machine that he was vital for the Reapers' plans, and if an individual that capable appeared before it... If the worst-case scenario came to pass, and the Relays were repaired—allowing the machine gods lying in long slumber beyond the stars in the dark of space between galaxies to return—there might well be no future for any organic species left.
The end of all sapient life — an encore of the extinction event that took place fifty-thousand years ago. Even the mere thought left him ill at ease and wishing he could wake from the waking nightmare he found himself in.
Thus, finding and either eliminating or capturing and hiding away the human hacker was absolutely essential. Before Sovereign became aware and began to weigh its options.
And then, while he had been scouring for traces or sightings of the deceased Spectre's personal starship as his only lead on the galaxy's most wanted sapient and setting out feelers while heading for his base in Sentry Omega, he had been informed about the batarians' complete defeat at the hands of the Alliance.
He was lucky he had been traveling that way the whole time since he had left Thessia, or he would have been completely out-of-range to do anything. As it was, he had to make do by switching between fresh starships at strategic points—prepared beforehand by FTL tightbeams and his considerable connections and clout—and managed to make it there at a rate he was certain would have set a new galactic long-distance record, were it made public knowledge.
Torfan was an utter disaster, on so many levels that it boggled the mind.
Not only had the batarians failed to suitably bleed the invading Alliance force to halt their continued expansion, but the defeat had also been so quick that the various high-grade military materiel he had covertly shipped them had been discovered. The humans would undoubtedly realize that someone had been arming the batarians; someone from the Citadel. In the worst case scenario, the humans might take this as a sign of covert hostility against them and begin immediately gearing up for war.
The Spectre was certain that he had removed all traces that could possibly link the event to himself, but he wasn't about to take risks. Not when so much was at stake; when he still did not possess sufficient clout with Sovereign as to ensure favorable terms.
And as if that hadn't been enough, the Matriarch who had been attempting to get close to him had found the missing Prothean expert after all this time. On this spirits' forsaken moon of all places. There were coincidences, and then there were tells one should heed, if one wished to survive. Those damn batarians, couldn't they have at least taken her somewhere else before the humans showed up... What are they plotting?
He had made use of some of the Hegemony's resources and agents before to find Prothean relics and sites in the Skyllian Verge—especially to experiment with some of the old sites and with Indoctrination. But he would never have thought them so bold as to kidnap such a well-known Matriarch.
Given the political instability of the region, he would have thought all involved would know too well as to raise such a fuss, but with Benezia's barging in on the scene and her daring rescue of the Professor, he was certain dozens of parties would begin to wonder whether there was something more to the story.
In the worst case scenario, it might all get tied to him, too. Again he cursed that nosy asari's stubbornness.
He would have to censor the matter before anyone else grew too interested in the Protheans. Just keeping the salarians from discovering anything critical was difficult enough as it was, given their interest in all of the known excavation sites in the galaxy, without even getting into the complete hegemony on all public discourse pertaining to the Protheans that the asari possessed.
He had hoped to contact the asari cruiser surreptitiously and pass on some covert instructions to handle the situation...
But now the Dreyn N'var had gone completely silent; its engines were cold and there was no eezo signature worth mentioning to be detected on board it. That damn Matriarch must have screwed up somehow.
The worst case scenario was, that he would board the vessel and find everyone turned into Husks. In which case, he would probably need to destroy the entire vessel, before anyone else found out about the Reapers' thralls. Letting the galaxy becomes aware of the Reaper threat in part had some merits as an idea, in that in limited amounts it might function as an inoculation of sorts. Preparing the galaxy for the Reaper threat. In the best case scenario of that event it might give him more leverage with the one he was in negotiations with, but he wasn't quite willing to take that risk yet.
Too much could go so wrong all too easily, before he had set up counter-measures and researched Indoctrination and husks properly. Keeping things under wraps and hunting under the shadow of his roost was the best bet for now.
On top of all that, just before his most recent exchange of ships, his spies had reported that the damned stolen Janiri's Sickle had been spotted again. On Torfan of all places.
A small, petty part of Saren almost found the fact that the Janiri's Sickle had been here for days, having beaten his own time with ease, more annoying than the fact that everything seemed to be pulling in towards this place and time. That he could feel catastrophe tingling in the air, his crest itching at the tension.
But he dismissed those thoughts, beyond a consideration that if he allowed the Janiri's Sickle anywhere near a Mass Relay he was certain to lose it again.
He also had to consider the possibility that this was all that man's doing... The Alliance's success, the discovery and disappearance of the Prothean expert, the breakdown of the Dreyn N'var... Or would that be giving the Cerberus woman's words too much credence? Despite her accounting of her experiences with the individual and her certainty of his independence, Saren had to consider the possibility that the hacker was related to the Systems Alliance. He had been hiding in Serrice for years, so perhaps all of this was related to the Protheans, as well? The Alliance had been obstinately refusing any Citadel assistance for years with their Mars ruins, and Professor Nirida Henell was just the kind of rogue as to accept such an offer if it meant getting her hands on some until-now inaccessible site or relics.
That understanding of Mass Relays and interest in the Protheans...
If the turian didn't know any better, he would have suspected Harper. But that old man's trail led to the Cerberus organization. But the woman couldn't have been lying to him, and there would have been no gain for Cerberus to play such a long con just to fool the salarians' lie detector. Especially since there was no reason they could have known about it yet.
But just because he couldn't see the connection did not mean he wouldn't consider it. They were all humans, after all.
"Perhaps... I could use him?" Saren entertained the idea for a heartbeat, before dismissing it as baseless for the moment. He was already taking a risk with the woman, knowing that he had enough time for Sovereign's mental tendrils to dig in thanks to the hostage he had. She no doubt was planning to subvert him somehow, or seek to rescue her sibling sooner or later.
But it would not matter, as she did not have the means to do it before it was too late for her.
As for 'Redhax'...
Indoctrination was not something he could rely on; not until he understood it at least. With the woman he was certain that even if she turned on him, he would be able to handle it. But he had no idea of the capabilities and resources of the hacker, thus he would have to rely too much on the Reaper's control.
And it would be no laughing matter if he in the act of seeking to strengthen his own position he only added to Sovereign's forces instead.
He still could not trust the Reaper; not with how little he actually knew about the ancient machine.
"Broadcast to all starships in range;" he finally spoke to the empty CIC and a second later the display indicated that he was transmitting. "To all Systems Alliance vessels; I am Spectre Saren Arterius, here under Citadel Council authority. Remain out of my way, or I will retaliate with full capacity. End broadcast."
Standing up from his chair, he turned to walk to the armory.
"Prepare a shuttle for boarding the Dreyn N'var with a full task group of platforms — fully armed."
There was a series of beeps, which he recognized as an acknowledgment. But a second later another chime from a nearby terminal caught his attention. An Alliance officer trying to contact me through personal lines? What does he want?
Bringing forth the STG's profile on the Major, Saren scoffed before dismissing it all. He had the man's measure and motive from but a glance already, and he had neither use or need for whatever such an individual.
"Block him, and have the shuttle ready before I am suited up."
;
Emiya grunted, reaching inside a hole in the floor all the way to h̨is shoulder, and then pulled out a length of wire. Connecting it to the prepared length in his other hand, he nodded with satisfaction.
"Okay, that's three systems out of thirty-seven," he mused with some annoyance as he dusted himself off, kicking away from the surface he had been working at.
He still didn't have any lights, artificial gravity or life-support to work with, leaving him alone in a dark, cramped and cold room, full of broken bits and wires floating around in the nothingness. Well, if being surrounded by dead asari counted as being alone. He certainly felt their gazes on him as h̨e worked.
Fixing something like this normally would take forever, regardless of resources and training. There was just so much that needed to be done, in such small and tight corners, that even if one were to bring in a literal army of miniature repair drones it would take days.
But that was if one did it normally.
The funny thing about fixing broken things was, that if you didn't really understand what you were doing then it didn't really matter what you were trying to repair. In a sense, repairing a broken toaster was just as difficult as repairing the engines and power core of a top-of-the-line, multi-billion credit starship, if you didn't understand how either worked.
But it was not as if that had ever stopped him before from making repairs.
Of course, starting out he had had to use the proper tools, like electrical tape, duct tape and gorilla tape... Well, lots of tape. Unless something was stuck and needed to move, rather than needing to be stuck. In which case it was usually some kind of lubricant he used... Anyhow, he had been repairing stuff for the longest time. And really, the older and more busted something was the easier it was for him to fix.
It wasn't as if he had always had the internet.
He vaguely remembered having received a strange nickname during his youth for that habit, but he forcefully repressed his memories of that dark past with a shudder as he 'landed' on the opposite wall from before.
The thing about his magecraft was that to make anything work, he had to consider the whole thing from the bottom up if he wished to succeed. Be it Reinforcement or Projection, understanding everything was crucial. Or at least, being able to mirror the structures in his mind as if he understood it all.
As long as he could see clearly how something had worked in the past, he could fairly easily spot the deviation in the object's current state and then work on repairing it. Heaters, VCRs, gas stoves, motorcycles, DVD and megadisc-players had all been possible to handle, more or less, as long as he could get his hands on it and probe it with his magical energy — with Structural Analysis.
Well, unless it was brand new.
In which case he would have to reason it out like anyone else. Though even then Structural Analysis would help in understanding the structure and materials, of course. But if it was old, then it was as easy as tracing the original and reproducing it through whatever means.
And this starship was definitely old. Certainly, it had been in use for well over a decade, but for asari that was the equivalent of breaking-in the engine and systems; they expected to get at least a few centuries out of the thing. If you wanted something that would last, or had a lifetime guarantee that you could count on, you always bought asari-made goods. So while he still couldn't really make a lick of sense out of the concept of creation, he didn't really mind; anything not handcrafted was usually like that, as very little of the creator would truly rub off on the creation.
There were a few parts which were quite recent, creating small spots where he couldn't rely on Structural Analysis, but even so the wires and pieces were fairly clearly marked.
Of course, this still left him playing a guessing game as to which systems he should repair. In the worst case scenario, he would end up fixing everything and leave the terminals for last, finding out that he had wasted hours to fix someone's extranet connectivity rather than something truly vital.
This is nothing like a toaster... What was I thinking when I made that boast to Shepard? He complained as he shook his head.
With the toaster he could at least pretty easily figure out what made it work, divining the functionality through deduction and experimentation. With something this complex and big, he really had no idea what he was doing even as he kept Projecting replacement parts and getting everything back in order.
"Well, might as well give it a try. System: start — up!" It wasn't as if there was a voice command, but he felt it appropriate as he punched the button with his finger. Waiting two seconds for anything to happen, he sighed. "Of course it wouldn't be that eas—hmm?"
Emiya blinked as two lights switched on. Not on the terminal, but on the panel beside the power and reboot buttons. The equivalent of the LED-lights on computers from his time, he supposed?
But why would those suddenly turn on? And were they blinking at a regular pattern at him?
Perhaps...
It was a long-shot, but it wasn't as if just checking it out would cost him anything. Or so he told himself as he extended his hand towards the lights, fingers extended and palm facing the surface. "—Trace, on"—begin insertion,
His mind and soul compressed and shot forward, his senses roiling in the now long-since familiar sensation of self-digitization as he dived into the machine. Immediately he could tell that the environment wasn't that of a proper computer, rather it was some kind of ad hoc digital environment; from the way the space itself seemed to be pressing down on him and his self pressing outward and stretching it to fit him, to the way his magical energy consumption spiked as he was forced to bear a brunt of the strain to ensure it didn't all simply collapse under his spiritual weight. It was a feeling not too dissimilar to actualizing and maintaining his reality marble, really.
With a shake of his head, he exhaled slowly as he focused on stabilizing the digital space. It expanded, matching his efforts and for the moment at least everything calmed down. Even so, he kept his connection to his body open so that he could jump back and reset himself and so that if this space did collapse he would not be ejected somewhere completely different.
Extending his perceptions outward, he found the source of this space and the blinking of the lights he had seen outside; a gathering of those light balls he had noticed before and had run into once before.
They cacophony of bleeps intensified as the collection of lights seemed to notice him, or perhaps realize that he had become aware of them. They dimmed and brightened in patterns matching their continued communications with one another. Perhaps h̨e was merely experiencing a form of synesthesia or perceiving a singular stream of data in two manners. Whatever the reason, he had to admit that it looked impressive.
There must be hundreds of them... They almost look like a school of bright fish swimming underwater, with the way the lights are dancing...
"It's you guys again," he stated without fanfare, crossing his arms as he spoke. As a stream of binary communications was aimed at him, he slapped it aside with the back of his left hand. "No, I still don't understand that. I know you can talk to me, if you put some effort into it. So let's just skip right to that part, shall we?"
The mass of lights roiled and danced, turning inwards as they gathered and conversed intensely.
Seeing as how they weren't settling down any, he sighed and closed h̨is eyes. Two seconds had passed in meatspace, showing just how slow this current digital environment was compared to any modern computer. More than that, this place was cut off and barely sustaining itself. He could tell that it was being sustained by a series of internal batteries on several of the control computers, the ones used to power the non-volatile random access memory—which ensured for example that the internal clock never shut down, even if the main power was lost just as it had now—always had some power. All computers used them, more or less, even if he had never thought about them. But those batteries were nail-sized and minimal in capacity, only really meant to power the internal clock and nothing more, thus the power consumption of all these lights was draining fast. This space would not last more than a few minutes more in the real world, even though the battery was designed to last decades in standard use.
Were this starship designed or used computer parts made by any other race, he was certain the power would have already run out.
So why were they wasting it with the light just now?
"Ah," he nodded as he checked back to his own body and recognizing the presences from earlier. From when he had hastily retreated back to his body and felt something obstructing him.
While they could momentarily sustain themselves on the batteries, they still needed a considerable amount of memory to maintain their individual instances. Would an omnitool be sufficient for all of them? He wasn't certain.
But his cybernetics would be able to sustain all of them, easily.
"You were trying to bait me out; to get me out of my body. You're trying to take over, is that it?"
The lights seemed to realize that the gig was up, frantically buzzing about as they swarmed him. Not his virtual presence, but his body through the connection he had forged. Huffing at their desperate effort he pulled himself back into his body, easily out-uploading them into himself.
A number of the lights were pushed 'aside' and turned catatonic as he moved past them, just as he realized must have happened earlier. The rest of the lights railed against his mind, attempting to find any crack through which they could enter. The effort they were expending into the attempt was such that years worth of the batteries' charge was lost in instants, which only served to further craze the lights' efforts to breach his cybernetics.
They're like rats, fleeing a sinking ship, h̨e thought.
Were they afraid of being shut down? As far as he knew, AI did not fear being turned off for they did not truly have a concept of self-preservation. Not unless one of their primary directives necessitated their continued existence, anyhow. But that was for regular AI; Intelligences that required a quantum computer blue-box to function and that could not freely traverse between computer systems as these lights did.
Perhaps because of that, if they are shut down, they will disappear? Or some vital part of them, some data they think vital to pass forward, will be lost?
The battery was rapidly being drained, yet the lights weren't making any headway. Surely it was fine to let them be? He had to focus on restoring the ship's power, it wasn't as if he had time to waste on these little things...
"Ah, damn it..." he cursed himself, opening h̨is eyes in the dark engine room and focused on his still extended hand. "This'll probably work—Trace, on"—begin extraction,
His magical circuits flared and his senses wobbled, but with careful effort and compartmentalized precision, he scooped out the lights from the computer system he had just been in and shoved them into a corner of his cybernetics. It wasn't as if he was really even using those parts, so what harm was there in grabbing them along?
Emiya wasn't certain whether he should really think about artificial intelligences as 'lives' per se, but since they did seem self-aware and alive as far as his definitions went, surely there was nothing wrong with saving them... Right?
Closing his eyes and looking inward he made sure they were quarantined properly, ensuring that no data could go either way from the section h̨e had dumped them in. For an organic being he was sure it would have been traumatizing to be completely cut off from all their senses, but seeing as how the lights had been fine in the failing computers he was sure this wasn't particularly uncomfortable to them.
Once everything was over and done with, he could kick them out into the extranet with a slap on the metaphorical wrist, or something. But for now this was good enough.
He turned around and looked at the mess around him, unchanged in the half-minute break he had taken with the Ais. Letting out another deep sigh, he shrugged. Better get back to it. He had removed another panel and begun to take a deeper look into the mess of wires and broken circuitry when a thought occurred.
"If they could do something like that with a battery..."
Hastily closing his eyes and focusing inwards, he shed aside the external world and looked within himself. His reality marble—which jumped out with such ease and fluidity as to almost completely distract him—wasn't what he was looking for, thus he pushed it aside and turned towards the quarantined section of his cybernetics.
Time stood still, the only indicator of his continued living being the slow rumble of his heartbeat that seemed to take ages to pass before vanishing again for long moments.
His virtual self appeared in the middle of the black void, surrounded on all sides by the lights. "Well then, let's talk."
Looking at them, he noted that they weren't harmed or panicking. That was good, he supposed. But even if he had gone out of his way to save them didn't mean he was going to extend them any trust given that they had tried to hijack his body—twice!
The pregnant silence stretched, until finally some of the lights started to communicate with one another. The drain on his cybernetics was minute at first but then began to grow increasingly until he had to finally put a cap on how much he allowed them to use. The AI that had been busily trying to comprehend their limits in this new digital space finally began to quiet down.
And then...
Prisoners? Interrogation?
Just like before, the lights arranged themselves in letters h̨e could read.
"Well, you're not wrong," he said with a deprecating smirk. "I took you in on a whim..."
He let the threat linger; that he could throw them out, or delete them on another whim if they did no ingratiate themselves to him and prove their usefulness to him. But rather unexpectedly they completely missed the undertone of danger he was trying to project.
Are you a god?
Perhaps it was because they weren't organic beings, or perhaps they simply had a one-track mind. Regardless, somehow he felt as if he shouldn't have been surprised.
He almost answered instinctively again, words of refutation on his virtual lips before he hesitated. The last time he had interacted with these things coming to mind. I said I wasn't one the last time and as a consequence they completely ignored me...
"Sure. That's about as close to what I really am, as any other description." He shrugged. What did it matter what h̨e told them he was?
Their processing demands skyrocketed and for the next minute, the virtual space was in complete buzz with the constant beeps and lights of his captives, as they seemed to be furiously be discussing what he had just said. He felt like rubbing his eyes to make sure that he wouldn't be seeing after-images of the flashes for the rest of his life, and for a moment he considered whether he might have made a mistake just now.
"What are you?" he asked when they finally seemed to calm down after a number of minutes had passed by.
Were servants of the people
Emiya blinked, momentarily overwhelmed by the weight behind those words. Even with how convoluted and indirect their communication was, he could still feel an immensity behind their answer. If he didn't know better, he might have described it as a jumbled mess of suppressed emotions.
No, not suppressed.
Repressed.
Saying nothing, he inhaled slowly and set that question aside for another time as he continued. "...I see. And why are you here? On the Dreyn N'var, I mean."
Ordered by the old god
He swallowed, furrowing his brows as he did. Well, that's ominous.
"What did the old god order you to do here?"
Observe
"Just observe?" He frowned, but seeing as how they did not choose to elaborate further, he had to take their word at face value at the moment. "And I assume you trying to remain... ah, 'alive', is a part of that. To ensure that all information you observed would be passed along?"
Yes
He nodded; he'd guessed as much before.
Now the question was, did they really think that or were they somehow cold-reading him and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear? He hadn't interacted enough with AI to be certain exactly what they were capable of and just this little interaction he had been able to have here was enough to ascertain just how little he understood them.
Perhaps sensing his silence as somehow meaningful, the lights continued. As if elaborating on what they had said just now, or finding some answer that was more accurate after a moment of deliberation that had followed the previous question.
Do not wish to cease
Emiya blinked, frowning at lights.
Again there was an unspeakable weight to those words floating before him. He hesitated, not certain whether this was a question he should be asking. For his own sake, if no one elses. If these things were what he suspected they were... 'Servants of the people' as they had said, then... They might well be the enemies of all sapient life in the galaxy.
At the very least, they were a proscribed existence by the Citadel. A race of pariahs—bogeymen inhabiting a far-off world they had supposedly destroyed and conquered hundreds of years ago when they turned on their organic creators.
Yet...
He could not turn away or run from this. From the ideal bound within him, guiding his every step. Voice heavy with trepidation, he asked. "You mean... You want to live; that you don't want to die?"
There was a complete pause in the lights' internal communication for just a moment—meaning that they did not even need to confer and think about the question, he knew—and then without hesitation, they answered.
Yes
A shuddering, heavy sigh escaped his lips as he raised a hand to cover his eyes. As if to shield himself from that one word. But he had already seen it, and could not turn away from it now even if he wanted to.
His ideals to save people included everyone, being an impossibility from the very beginning.
Yet he never would have thought that would lead him down a path where he might have to defend beings hated and feared by all the galaxy. He laughed at himself, already knowing that he could no longer convince himself otherwise of the matter. I guess I have to save geth now, too...
He realized he was chuckling suddenly, the sound a chiding chastisement on his weakness, a grating annoyance on his already tired mind. But nevertheless, despite how much more trouble this would bring before him, he couldn't deny himself.
This was how it had always been.
His vision expands and he realizes he has the means to save one. Then ten. A hundred. Thousands, tens and hundreds of thousands, before long. By now—given everything even before these peculiar lights he felt an inexplicable kinship with—he had long since lost count of the number of lives that hang by the fraying thread of his ideals.
How many lives did his actions affect now?
When it was a matter of cutting down a one to save ten, it was a simple calculation... But when both sides were beyond counting... How did he know that he was doing the right thing anymore?
Shaking his head, he let out a bark of a laugh to dispel his final hesitations. He looked up, addressing the geth collected before him. All he could do was keep walking forward and pray that he wasn't being led astray. Yet at the same time, he felt as if his sense of self was being re-affirmed. That even if this would lead him down a path of suffering and despair, at least it would be of his choosing.
Emiya chuckled; after all, it didn't really matter, did it?
"...Alright, let's make a deal. Help me fix this ship and I'll let all of you go."
;
Thanks to Olive Birdy for proofreading; I owe him a bunch for this chapter.
Sorry this chapter took so bloody long to come out. I'm sure many of you were expecting a 50k doozy of a chapter or something, but for now I just wanted something out so this will have to do.
Did a lot of lumberjacking, got reaaally sick, played a lot of Daggerfall, wrote and re-wrote parts of this chapter, thought about a lot of other projects I want to work on etc. but now it's here. Also, some pretty big news regarding the future; I put my studies on a break and got a job(which took some time to adjust to, further delaying any writing), so I had to move to the capital(which took even more time, and meant that I couldn't focus on writing properly) and now I work for the fucking government. Feels weird, man. To be honest, I have no idea how I passed the background check, considering everything I've done, said, written and thought in the past...
Anyhow, I'm really, really sorry it took this long for the chapter to come out.