Story time again! Gunfights, psychic powers, flying armor, and more obscure cultural references than you can shake a Siege Driver at! Today Sara visits the Morrigi in that most heroic of quests: save the Maiden from the Dragons! The Morrigi have been hovering around the edges of the plot for a while now, but it's time for them to take center stage for the first time in over thirty chapters! Watch in awe of their mastery of high technology, marvel at their exotic and venerable traditions, gap in wonder at their powers of the mind, and then scoff as a single Tarka tramples over every single one of those things.
Dramatic intro aside, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter I've ever written for this story, and goes in several different directions very quickly. So I'm very interested in feedback for this chapter. Did the plot and pacing work okay? Did I focus too much on the Morrigi and not enough on the actual protagonists? Working with their glamour/empathy was very tricky, since the lore doesn't really draw a hard line between the one and the other, so I'm also interested in hearing how you all think that turned out.
My poll for the next Codex is still up at the top of my profile, for those of you interested in voting. Please note that since I just did the ship comparison Codex, votes for that will not be counted. Anyway, please read and review! I look forward to hearing your thoughts! I'll also translate some of those other Morrigi words for you, if you're curious.
In retrospect, Sara thought to herself, she should have known the gods would never let her pull something like this off so smoothly. The infiltration was perfect. They'd dropped in stealth capsules during their ship's routine garbage jettison, and inserted the rest of the way with Bara'Dorn glider wings. The thick atmosphere the Morrigi preferred, alive with floating algae that turned the sky a faint green, probably wouldn't be any good for Thane's lungs, but he assured her that limited exposure wouldn't cause any serious problems for him. Liara's research camp was located at the base of a fallen Drift City, a huge collection of pyramids and shattered spires that stretched for several kilometers. Like most Morrigi gatherings, the camp was obvious from above, the well-lit tents radiating through the night in a series of connected circles. Sara had worried that the STG infiltrator cloaks she'd requisitioned from the Spectre office wouldn't be able to get them through the pickets of Morrigi sentry drones, but they'd slipped past without any difficulties. The cloaks only had enough charge for one use, but they could last for over an hour, assuming the user didn't make any violent movements. As she had crept through the darkness into Liara's tent, she'd harbored a faint hope that for once, one of her plans would go off without a hitch. That was probably what had jinxed it, she decided, just before she hit the hard stone ground and bounced, sending an explosion of pain though her body.
As her body continued to fly backward, bleeding off the momentum of Liara's biotic push, Sara decided that the asari girl was way too high strung. Admittedly, she probably shouldn't have put the gun in Liara's face when she'd woken her up, but she couldn't risk the asari making noise and warning the Morrigi. How was she supposed to know that the girl was a biotic powerhouse? And who sleeps with a pistol under their pillow anyway? People these days were just so paranoid.
"Thane," she snapped quickly, recovering her senses and rolling in midair to land in a fighting crouch. "The target has declined our invitation. Time for our contingency plan."
The drell assassin responded wordlessly, and a shimmer passed through the entrance to Liara's tent. The girl had just enough time for an alarmed shout before a rapid series of meaty impacts sounded out, and Thane emerged, his cloak dispersed and the asari girl held carefully in his arms. She was completely unconscious and wrapped in a large blanket, but apart from a small bruise forming on her face, she appeared unharmed.
"Target acquired," he reported in a whisper, nodding in her direction. "Are you and Wrex ready?"
Sara glanced down at her silver bracelet and a green icon appeared hovering over it. The sound of serpentine movement from several of the nearby tents indicated that their time was almost up. The Morrigi females around them may have been slow to wake, but once they realized they were under attack, they would come out fighting.
"Wrex is in position, and I just got telemetry on their drones," she hissed quickly. "Let's go."
Thane nodded and started running toward the perimeter with fluid grace. Sara followed, swiping a finger against her bracelet as she pulled out her rifle. A Morrigi drone swooped overhead, drawn by the commotion, and she shot it out of the sky in a single swift burst. The flechettes in her Broma Dai weren't the best choice for fighting Brawler Armor, but they made short work of the lightly armored Morrigi drones. With the flight algorithms her bracelet had just collected, she could also easily sort through their darting movement patterns, making the high-tech war machines nothing more than sitting ducks.
Responding to the destruction of one of their number, a trio of new drones darted in from the perimeter, only to be struck down by another barrage of flechettes. A confused avian head the size of Sara's torso poked its way out of the tent in front of her, causing her to drop into a roll and come up on the other side in a dead sprint.
"Wrex, things are looking a little crowded on my end," she called into her bracelet. "Can I get a distraction?"
"Thought you'd never ask, Princess," the mercenary growled, amusement evident in his tone. The krogan appeared a hundred yards to her left, a huge grin on his face and a massive weapon clutched in his hands
Getting her hands on a Shaka'sal hadn't been easy. The infamous heavy weapons were desperately hoarded by Changed Tarka, and were capable of untold levels of devastation when used properly. It was essentially a fusion between a flechette shotgun, a minigun, and an axe, and in closed spaces could clear a room faster than a plasma flamer. It had taken over three months and two of her Favors to finally get one, and even then she knew that without exoskeleton mods, she would never be strong enough to use the damn thing. But the look on Wrex's face right now made all the pain of procuring and storing the huge gun completely worth it.
"Alright birdies!" he yelled, leveling the Shaka'sal. "My name is Urdnot Wrex, and THIS is my BOOMSTICK!"
He followed this statement by opening up on full auto, blazing away indiscriminately with his new toy. Sara had asked him to try and avoid fatalities, but even a near miss from a Shaka'sal could be lethal to more fragile races. Morrigi females grew big though, so she wasn't too worried. Besides, diplomacy was the Council's problem. She intended to be long gone before the Morrigi started counting their dead.
The alarm was definitely up now. Electronic lights and flares began blazing red atop the many Morrigi tents, and the huge females were burrowing out of their canvas dens like startled serpents. She felt a wave of dread crash over her, even as she shot down another flock of drones. This would never work. The females were too big, even with the Shaka'sal, Wrex would be swarmed under, the drones were coming faster and faster and-
It wasn't real, a corner of her mind realized. The panic was false, a projection. The knowledge didn't make the terror lessen any, but if she focused on the fact that it wasn't really her fear, she could bring herself to fight through it. Quietly, she thanked any gods that were listening for the cybernetic spikes running through her brain. 'Permanent cognitive damage' be damned, the extra psionic resistance they provided was invaluable. Besides, she didn't even know what her Thalamus was, so it couldn't have been that important.
Glancing at her companions as she continued weaving toward open ground, Sara saw that they weren't doing so well. Thane's black eyes had gone wide and were darting franticly around as his graceful stride faltered and he nearly stumbled. Wrex was faring a little better, but from his bloodshot expression she suspected he was close to Blood Rage. That would be disastrous. They had to leave before any males showed up, or they'd never be able to extract themselves. A berserk krogan would be a nightmare to pull from battle, and if he was captured Sara had no doubt he'd spill everything he knew in a second to save himself.
Wrex first, she decided . Thane's fear was still productive, driving him away from the psionic Morrigi females. But how to get through to the krogan? Like most female Tarka in the military, she'd been trained how to deal with Changed Males in battle, so she knew how to guide their adrenaline fueled rage to a productive end. A krogan couldn't be that different.
"Hey!" she yelled into her communicator even as she weaved around some form of portable sensor platform. The first step in stopping the rage was always to get their attention. "Wrex, you've got incoming ordinance. Fall back twenty meters and get out of their line of sight for a second!"
That should do it. The threat of a non-existent artillery strike would give him something to focus on, and Morrigi empathy was mostly visual. Looking away for a bit would help calm him down and keep his adrenaline manageable.
"You never said anything about ordinance," Wrex snapped angrily, even as he fired a suppressing volley and began dashing backward. He chuckled darkly. "I think that's worth a bonus."
"Is now really the best time to talk about money?" Sara asked ruefully, but inwardly she was rather pleased with herself. If he was haggling over fees, the Rage must already be calming down. A purple dart of light flashed through the air over her shoulder, forcing her thoughts back to their escape. She pulverized the offending drone, and shifted her attention to her other companion. "Thane, you're drifting too far to the left. You'll be in rough terrain in a few seconds."
"Right, sorry," he responded, sounding a little shaken and distracted. But as he started coming back to their planned route, Sara saw that some of his usual grace had begun to return. "I should be out of the camp in ten seconds."
Their escape plan was very simple. As an ordinary archeological site, the camp didn't have too many drones protecting it. Sara suspected she'd already destroyed most of them. Morrigi women were forbidden by sacred law from engaging in war, so they wouldn't have anything more deadly than basic hunting weapons to scare away animals. If they could get out of the camp and hidden before any males arrived overhead, they'd be home free.
But the gods, as usual, had a sense of humor. No sooner had Thane finished his estimate than a Morrigi female tore around the edge of a nearby tent, planting herself directly into their path. Blocked, the assassin was forced to slide to a halt, and Sara followed suit a dozen meters behind him. Even as Sara's eyes took in the creature's bulk, a feeling of utter horror hit her like an avalanche, washing instantly into every part of her mind.
The tiny, analytical corner of her brain reminded her that Morrigi females rarely stood taller than three meters, but that part was drowned out by the sheer enormity of what stood before her. To Sara's fear-soaked brain, the Morrigi was two or three times that size, her eyes seeming to blaze red with hate. Her pale wings blotted out the night sky, and her talons flashed like swords. This was no creature of flesh and blood, Sara decided. This was Var Ponu, Old Man Death, made incarnate in the most terrifying form imaginable. The demon the Morrigi had become screamed, a piercing war cry that seemed to split the air itself with its intensity, and suddenly Sara's world was filled with fire.
It's just a helmet flamer, reminded her thoughts. They're low powered and shorted ranged. They clip to the side of their beaks, and Morrigi use them to clear brush. She's not really breathing fire. It's all just because of that empathic attack. Her eyes aren't glowing, or even red. She's not really that big. It's an illusion.
But this time logic was not enough. The fear was too great. Even as she frantically tried to get herself under control, firing a burst from her rifle that went hopelessly wide, the Morrigi lowered her snapping beak and charged, spewing fire the whole way.
Training and adrenaline did what reason could not. By pure reflex, Sara threw herself out of the way. It was an ugly dodge, one that landed her in an ungainly heap off to one side, but it let her avoid the flames and the female's crushing bulk. Her towering foe seemed to have lost track of her in the confusion of the charge, but now the Morrigi turned her head toward where Sara lay prone, flames licking up around her jaws once again.
Shoot, you idiot, her common sense reminded her, and Sara realized that she had landed with her gun pointed up at the Morrigi almost by accident. At this range, she couldn't possibly miss, no matter how badly her hands shook. Her grip steadied, and hope burned in her chest even as her finger tightened on the trigger. She glared up at her enemy with a defiant smirk, just in time to see exactly how much fate hated her.
The sky was glowing with a fire all its own, the clouds themselves radiating some shining inner light. Then, with a crack of impossibly loud thunder, the heavens split, clouds thrown aside in a shockwave as a trio of avenging gods descended from on high. Their armor shone gold and silver and cast its own pure radiance that burned her eyes to even look at. One carried a brilliant spear, another two held elegant rifles. As they hovered over the camp, drones swiftly detaching from their bodies to swirl around them in an elegant dance, Sara felt the last of her hopes die. None of them were ever leaving the camp alive.
The female seemed to be as distracted by the sudden entrance of the Morrigi males (which is what these 'gods' really were, Sara's brain reminded her) as Sara was, completely ignoring the prone Tarka before her. The intense terror subsided somewhat, and Sara seized her chance. She pulled one of her Maab daggers from her belt and lunged upward. It was a clumsy thrust, but it still worked. The female stiffened as the electrical current raced up her nervous system, paralyzing her. The horrible, crushing terror let up, and for the first time since the gray feathered Morrigi had appeared, Sara could think clearly again.
She rolled into a crouch and surveyed the battlefield. The prognosis was definitely grim. Thane had taken the full force of the female's psychic attack and unlike Sara, he had no cybernetic enhancements to soften the blow. The shock appeared to have been too much for his brain to handle, and the assassin lay collapsed in a heap, completely unconscious. Liara's body was beside him, equally unconscious, which was good at least.
Wrex wasn't doing any better. Several of the other females appeared to have donned flamer helms as well and had trapped him inside a box of fire. Above, the drones the males had brought swirled out of the sky, stabbing at the krogan with UV lasers. He was deep in the Blood Rage now, shrugging off laser blasts with ease and blazing recklessly away into the sky with the Shaka'sal. His deep, amused laughter rolled across the battlefield as he swatted first one, then another drone from the sky, but Sara could see what he couldn't. The two males with rifles were already taking careful aim, and without the terror to cloud her judgment, she was almost sure at least one of them was wielding a meson rifle. Those things packed more punch than a damn fusion gun. The third Morrigi had flown away at high speed and was banking around to start a textbook strafing run.
As Sara watched, Wrex's gun finally clicked dry. Instead of reloading, the fear-fogged krogan responded instinctually: he brandished the Shaka'sal's melee blade, lowered his head, and charged straight into the wall of flames. Even with half his armor on fire and barraged by laser fire from all sides, Wrex never slowed, slashing and hacking the air to cleave opponents only he could see. The meson rifles above him had started glowing, indicating that they were about to fire. Sara saw hidden panels slide open on the third Morrigi's approaching armor, revealing racks of micromissiles.
There was no way the mercenary could survive all that, even with the Blood Rage fueling him. She might be able to shoot down one of the males before he could fire, but that would only prolong the inevitable. Even if she could kill every single Morrigi here, more were surely on their way. They'd never get off the planet alive. There was only one option left.
"Athlos!" Sara yelled, throwing down her gun and pressing her bracelet to transmit to every open channel. "I request athlos!"
The whole camp froze. She could feel over a dozen alien eyes on her, and the sudden silence was broken only by the crackle of the nearby flames. Wrex, freed from the numerous fear attacks he had suffered under, visibly slumped, but then stood in a guarded crouch, glancing around warily. She could tell the Rage was still in him, but fortunately the confusion of his recent psychic shock was holding him at bay.
Finally, the tension was broken when the spear-wielder rolled in the air, diving downward to hover directly in front of her. A brilliant light still shown behind him (Glamour, her logic reminded), and his mighty wings stretched to their fullest extent. Unlike human or turian flight packs, the Morrigi's armor had no visible jets or audible roar of engines. It just flew, hovering in the air in a way that indicated gravity was more of a suggestion than a universal law. The male's shining spear slashed downward dramatically, stopping inches from her face.
"You creep onto our worlds and attack our women in the night, yet you have the gall to request athlos?" the Morrigi crowed, its raspy voice vibrating the ground with every word. Sara shrugged it off. With the amount of psychic nonsense she'd faced in the last few minutes, a cheap trick like that barely fazed her.
"Yes, I do," she replied simply. "Are you the khan?"
"My name is Kroneos the Swift. And yes, I am the zo'khan," the male replied, with some mild amusement at her stern tone. He flew lower, hovering just inches off the ground in front of her to dip his huge head down, looking her in the eyes. "So what is that to you, dustling?"
Making sure to show absolutely no fear whatsoever, she reached forward and gently placed a hand on the underside of the Morrigi's helmet, specifically where the bottom of his beak would be. The reaction from the others was instantaneous as the gathered females bristled their feathers and lashed their tails. The other two hovering males flexed their armored wings and craned their long necks, as if trying to get a better view. For a long moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. Then Kroneos began to laugh.
"You are well educated for a dustling, I will give you that much," he cackled, raising his head again. "Very well, little sarkanai. I will grant you athlos. But should any of these women have suffered harm, you may wish I had not."
The khan turned away, but Sara did not relax. That was the easy part. What followed would be much more difficult.
"The men may have granted you a chance for forgiveness, bitch, but we haven't," hissed the harsh voice of the gray Morrigi woman behind her. "You are on our land, not on their ships. I am called Iambe. Remember that name, for if Kroneos does not kill you, then I shall. The mercy of our males will not save you from facing justice for your blasphemy."
"That is not for you to decide. I am a legitimate athligi. Touch me and you will be the blasphemer," Sara reminded impudently. The scorches on her arms from that Crow's flamer had begun to really hurt, so she wasn't really inclined to be polite. Smirking, she decided to twist the knife just a little more. "And I think you're getting close enough to that line already, aren't you harpeizanae?"
Iambe's eyes widened as she registered the insult, and she surged forward, screaming in rage. Sara had a split second to wonder if she hadn't made a mistake in pushing the woman as Iambe's razor sharp claws slashed toward her face, and then the blow was stopped in a rush of wind and sleek metal.
"Calm yourself, daimae," said a new male. He hovered just off the ground, his armored hand still straining against the power of Iambe's strike, but his armor shone even brighter than Kroneos' had. Instead of its usual appearance, now he looked like a handsome Tarka youth, clad in the finest armor of the Silver Imperium. "Kroneos is wise and just. The intruders will face justice. And as for you, dustling, if I ever hear you use that word in my presence again, no amount of sacred law will keep me from killing you where you stand."
Sara just rolled her eyes, but her Morrigi rival seemed quite pleased with the male's intervention.
"Daimae? You flatter me," Iambe said, looking the male up and down. "Your glamour is quite excellent. I almost couldn't see through it."
"Now who is flattering? My companions and I were just in the midst of our Descent when we saw your distress lights and redirected to aid you. I am named Atreus the Zealous. You know, when this matter is settled, I have some interesting trinkets I could show you. My tribe has travelled extensively through the Attican Traverse, and I have collected many unique souvenirs."
"Oh gag me with a vibro knife," Sara muttered, turning away. "They're flirting."
"Okay, what the hell was all that?" Wrex asked, limping through the tents toward her. The third Morrigi and his drones hovered overhead, his gun not actually pointed at them but held ready, just in case. The krogan's armor was covered in scorch marks and laser burns, and half his face was concealed by a thick coating of medigel.
"Short version? Plans A, B, C, D, and E all went down the tubes. So I'm skipping straight to Emergency Plan Y."
"Heh. If that doesn't work?"
"Then we go to Emergency Plan Z, which is to beg shamelessly for our lives and hope they don't want the heat they'd get for killing a Spectre."
"Think that'll work?"
"Please. The Council would declare me rogue and deny this operation in a second."
"So what comes after Plan Z?"
"Then we jump to Plan Omega: pray for divine intervention."
"Heh! I like you, Princess!" Wrex laughed, and winced slightly when it caused him pain. "Still gonna want that bonus if we get out of here alive, though."
"Chiseler."
"You bet."
"Athligi!" Kroneos called, floating back over to them with a light brown female in tow. "This is Phosphora Sopheia, the most worthy among these women. For the crime of attacking them, you must answer me. But for the crime of trespassing on one of their holy places, you must answer to her."
"That is not the extent of this sarkanai's crimes," Iambe added venomously. "She harmed Phosphora Liara, and attempted to kidnap her."
"Is this true?" Sopheia asked, her eyes beginning to glow. Sara felt the terror beginning to set in again, and mentally braced herself against it. "Have you brought harm to our guest?"
"Guests are allowed to leave," she snapped angrily, using defiance to overcome the fear. "Liara will be fine. My subordinate knew what he was doing."
"We shall see," Kroneos stated, and a small metal ball flew out of his armor to hover near his head. "This is a medical drone. It will seek out your Liara and assess the extent of her injuries."
"It won't have to look far," she replied sarcastically, pointing over her shoulder. "She's right there."
The drone immediately surged forward, circling around the fallen asari and bathing her with scanners. After a moment, it zipped directly in front of her face, and fired a single small bolt of electricity at her nose. Liara immediately jolted awake, eyes wide and expression panicked.
"That was easy," stated Sara. "As long as your 'bot is over there, could it take a look at my friend? Iambe here messed the poor guy up pretty bad when she attacked us."
"You would have us treat a thief and kidnapper over our own sisters?" Iambe growled, but a glance from Sopheia silenced her.
"If possible, I would like to avoid any pointless loss of life," the older female said calmly. "Kroneos, if I might request, please allow your drone to scan the intruder. I would not wish him to perish before he has a chance to face judgment."
The male nodded, and the small drone began vigorously scanning the fallen Drell as Liara stumbled toward the group in a daze.
"Iambe, is that you? What's going on? I was asleep and-" Liara caught sight of Sara's face, and realization suddenly dawned. "And then she attacked me!"
"I was trying to rescue you, you idiot!" Sara exploded, eyes flashing red in annoyance. "Something's come up. We need you back on the Citadel. I've been trying to get a message through to you for weeks now, but they were always rejected due to 'electrical interference.'"
She glared suspiciously at the assembled Morrigi, who at least had the decency to feign confusion.
"Phosphora, what is she talking about?" Iambe asked, perplexed. "We've had nothing but light rain for the past month."
"There is a large nebula between here and the nearest Relay," Kroneos theorized. "It is possible the interference was located there, and not on the planet itself."
"See, I might believe that, if my last message hadn't been sent twelve hours ago, from the edge of this very system," snapped Sara angrily. "I don't know what games you Crows are playing, but trust me, if there was an easier way to get Liara out, I wouldn't have come in guns blazing."
"But I'm just an archeologist," the asari said, confused. "Why would they need me on the Citadel?"
"I'm sorry, I can't discuss that in front of these people. It's classified."
"But I'm an archeologist! I'm not even a very good one! Have you seen some of the responses to my last paper? Why would they need someone like me for a classified project? Besides, the Citadel's been fully explored for centuries. Why would you want to take me there?"
"Liara speaks correctly," Sopheia agreed. "You have brought no proof to validate your story, which has many logical holes. I'm afraid we cannot allow her to leave with you."
"You want proof?" Sara pressed her bracelet, which immediately flashed a long, multidigit code. "There's your proof."
"Spectre authorization acknowledged," Liara's omnitool chimed automatically, recognizing the code without needing any input from its user. "Identity is confirmed as Sara Thok'Dur, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."
"Your authority means little here, Spectre," reminded the khan. "But if Liara wishes to go with you, I believe it would be unjust to stop her. Do you agree, Phosphora?"
"I do," she said with a nod. "Very well. In light of this new evidence and your good intentions, I absolve you of the crime of trespassing. Liara, you are by no means required to go with this woman. If you choose, you may remain here with us. As a guest of the Morrigi, we will defend you with our very lives, if that is what is required."
"Phosphora, thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me," Liara began, before looking nervously to Sara. "But my people must really need me if they sent a Spectre to get me. I'm sorry, but I have to go."
"As you wish." Sopheia bowed her head solemnly. "You will be missed, Phosphora Liara."
"Well, if you're planning on coming with us, you might want to grab a blanket or something so you don't freeze," Sara pointed out wryly. The girl was wearing a veorashi, a traditional form of asari clothing made up of several intricately draped and tied pieces of fabric. It was often used as sleep attire, so she wasn't really surprised to see Liara in one, but as elegant as it might be a veorashi didn't really leave much to the imagination.
The asari girl glanced down at herself and promptly turned an amusing shade of purple, before quickly darting off to grab her fallen blanket, stammering muttered apologies the whole way. Sara had to stop herself from laughing out loud as she watched the scantily-clad asari go. Her reaction had been everything the Tarkasian Spectre had been hoping for. Wrex, naturally, was less restrained.
"You're a bad, bad woman," he chuckled as he watched Liara frantically try to grab the fallen blanket, only to drop it in her nervous haste. "I knew I liked you."
"We all have hobbies," she muttered back quietly. "Mine is taunting people who are wound way too tight, like our poor lost lamb over there."
As Liara frantically tried (and failed) to tie the blanket into a makeshift covering, Kroneos's medical drone zipped past her to dance urgently around its master's head. He grabbed it in one six-fingered hand, examining it closely.
"It would appear your companion suffered severe psychic shock," he explained seriously. "The heavy atmosphere was exacerbating an existing breathing condition he has. When our young daimae's empathic attack hit him, he began hyperventilating and passed out from lack of oxygen. He should awaken on his own in an hour or so, when his mind has had time to recover slightly from the shock."
"Well, that's good," Sara said with a satisfied nod.
"Not really," Kroneos replied. "He was hit by a very powerful mental attack. That can have severe side effects if not properly treated."
"Like what, exactly?"
"The most common symptoms of this kind of trauma are similar to those exhibited by individuals exposed to heavy combat in stressful environments. Flashbacks, negative emotional spikes, that sort of thing. In particularly bad cases, it can cause permanent feelings of fear or hatred toward anything similar to the creature that inflicted the trauma. But the main problem is that he's a drell."
"So?"
"Drell have eidetic memories, and naturally have vivid flashes back to powerful emotional events. Which in this case…"
"You mean that if we don't treat this, Thane is going to be reliving that attack on and off for the rest of his life?" she asked, shocked. Normally, she defaulted to the 'buck up and get over it' solution to mental trauma. They were just memories, no matter how vivid. But with Thane's medical condition, a sudden panic attack like that could kill him in a few years. It would certainly mean he'd never work as an assassin again. A tiny part of her mind wondered why she even cared, he was just hired muscle after all, but her honor refused to let this go. She got him in, she was going to get him out. "Fine. Can one of you treat him?"
"I doubt there is anyone on this planet who could permanently treat trauma like that," he replied. "The best we would be able to offer would be temporary empathic salves, and in time that would do as much damage as the original trauma. But the Liir may be able to assist you, if you dare entrust your friend to one of their pet mind rippers."
Sara frowned darkly.
"We'll take it as it comes," she decided. "It's a long trip back. We'll have plenty of time to think about it."
Kroneos nodded and turned away, speaking quietly to Sopheia and sending his drone zipping off toward the rest of the camp. Most of the fires had died away, and the lights on top of the surviving tents had shifted from bright red back to their normal pure white. Atreus had once again distracted Iambe with his attempts to woo her, so Sara took the time to deploy a pack of medigel over some of the scrapes and burns she'd acquired during their failed escape.
"So what the heck are all these birds talking about, anyway?" Wrex asked gruffly, eyeing them with suspicion. "My translator can't make out half the words they're using most of the time."
"The Morrigi aren't directly associated with the Council. We've tried, but the bastards really chisel you for complete translation programs of all their languages. So most translators just do the basics of their Trade Language and let you sort out cultural words from context," explained Sara. "Ranger training includes a crash course in xenoculture and linguistics, so I've got a lot of it memorized."
"Alright then. What the hell is a daimae?"
"It means 'Terrifying One'. It's both a compliment and a title given to females with a very potent terror attack. Judging by the number she did on me and Thane, I'd say she's earned it."
"And that phoso-whatever?"
"Phosphora," Liara answered, walking up behind them. She had finally managed to tie the blanket into something resembling an improvised toga, and a bit of her nervousness seemed to have retreated now that they were talking about an academic subject. Sara wondered idly if she could undo the knot holding the blanket up without the asari realizing. "It's a Morrigi word for scientists. Taken literally, it means Light-bringer. They use it like we would use the title 'Doctor'. Technically, everyone here could probably be addressed as phosphora, but since Sopheia is the most worthy, we usually just call her megale, 'Greater-Than-I'."
"Oh? What's she done that's so special?" the krogan scoffed.
"Morrigi select their rulers based on a complex system that revolves around the concept of aanigi'dha. There's no really good non-Morrigi word for it, but taken loosely it means 'worthiness to lead'. Aanigi'dha is so deeply engrained in the Morrigi that they don't even have a normal system of rank, they just automatically know who is worthiest. What constitutes aanigi'dha varies in different professions and-I'm boring you, aren't I?"
"What gave you the first hint?" Wrex asked sarcastically, frowning in annoyance.
"I'm sorry. I've been living with the Morrigi for a while now, and I just find their culture so fascinating!" she babbled excitedly. "It is more complex and ancient than any other I've encountered, and their records are much more complete than those of the Protheans. I mean, I know the official histories say that the Morrigi and Asari probably started exploring space at around the same time, but based off some of the things we've uncovered, I think the Morrigi might predate the Asari by a millennia or more. Some of these-I'm doing it again. I'm sorry."
"I appreciate the cultural lesson, kid, but it's really been a long night," Sara stated wearily. "I'm sure the Crows are fascinating, but all I want to do right now is get the hell off this rock and back to Council space. You can talk our brains to mush as much as you want on the ride home."
"Not mine she can't," Wrex grumbled. "Our contract says I have to help you get her to the Citadel in one peace, it never said I can't tape her mouth shut."
"I understand," Liara replied with a stiff nod. "I'm sorry. I'll try to…stay out of your way."
"You do that," he snapped, even as Sopheia and Kroneos returned. Sara usually had a hard time reading Morrigi moods (their eyes didn't normally change color, and those beaks were useless for facial expressions), but even she could tell they looked grim.
"Before we proceed, Phosphora, I have a request to make of you," Kroneos said, loud enough to be heard by everyone. "My tribesmen and I were given permission to Descend by the kthonia, but we diverted from our original flight path when we saw your distress lights. As such, we have not been given formal permission to set foot on your soil. Phosphora Sopheia, as the most worthy among this gathering, it would do my tribesmen and I great honor if you would allow us to land in this most wondrous nest you and your fellows have crafted."
"Worthy nest?" Wrex grumbled. "It's a bunch of-"
"Shh!" Liara whispered angrily. "It's the completion of a formal ritual of Descent. The men own the stars, the women own the planets. So the men can't land without the permission of the kthonia, 'she who owns the land'. Technically they already have permission, but still it's considered very rude to touch the ground without directly asking a female first."
"That's the stupidest-"
"Shh!"
"You and your kin have performed your duties most excellently, Khan. Through your intervention, many lives may have been saved," Sopheia intoned, her pose one of great formality. "It is our great honor to host such worthy Travelers. Please, be welcome on our soil."
In unison, the three hovering males dropped like stones, landing gracefully with the bang of metal on stone. They bowed respectfully to Sopheia, before swiveling their gazes back to the trio of aliens.
"Now that the formalities have been concluded, there is one last piece of business we must attend to," Kroneos said seriously, the magnificent glow his armored form always seemed to project intensifying as he spoke. "Athligi, step forward!"
Sara did as she was requested, resting a hand impudently on her lightning blade as she did. The Morrigi would burn her down in a second if she actually tried to draw it, of course, but if they wanted to play head games with their witch powers, she would play right back.
"What, athligi?" Liara asked Sara, confused. "You invoked athlos? Are you insane?"
"Your sympathy for her says much for your character, Liara, but it has already been invoked," she heard Sopheia chide as the Morrigi leader twisted her serpentine body through the tents and gathered females to stand next to the asari girl. "It is not our place to interfere, any more than it would be Kroneos' place to tell a technea how she should wield her tools."
"The hell are you all talking about?" Wrex snapped angrily. Kroneos was addressing the crowd now, but Sara ignored him to focus on the conversation behind her instead. "What's going on?"
"Your friend has invoked athlos, the Morrigi ritual of atonement. It's like a form of trial by ordeal. As the khan, Kroneos gets to pick a challenge, and if she passes, she's instantly forgiven for her crimes," Liara explained in a whisper. "But it's fantastically dangerous! The challenge can be anything, even stuff that's impossible or suicidal. He could make her blow her brains out if he wanted!"
"Oh? And what happens to me and the lightweight over there if she dies?" the krogan asked shrewdly, gesturing to where Thane lay unconscious.
"You were mercenaries, hired by the Spectre?" Sopheia asked.
"Damn right. And I definitely didn't get paid enough to put up with all this crap."
"As mercenaries, you are extensions of her will," the Morrigi female concluded, ignoring his disdain. "For the purpose of the test, you and she are the same entity. If she is guilty, you are. If she is not, you are not."
"You didn't answer my question," Wrex growled, tone turning slightly threatening. "What. Happens."
"That is for the khan to decide. Likely, you will be killed," she said with a dismissive shrug. "Or perhaps you will be given to us as a gift. Indentured servants are quite useful for agriculture and other menial tasks."
"Over my dead body."
"Yes, I suspect that is how it would play out," she said with finality before turning back to where Kroneos continued to address the crowd.
"As no one has stepped forward to speak in defense of the athligi, I will now set her trial," he announced, before turning to regard Sara intensely. When he continued, it was in a much more conversational tone. "You are fortunate. None of the females suffered permanent damage in your reckless attack. Even the most gravely injured are expected to recover, with treatment. Had this not been the case, I would take you back to the stars in my armor and we would see if sarkanai can fly without wings."
"You'd be surprised," Sara replied cheekily. "We're quite resourceful."
"I have no doubt," he replied, his tone again one of amusement. "So, what challenge would be appropriate for such a 'resourceful' dustling as you?"
"Zo'khan, I have a suggestion," Atreus called, stepping away from his place beside Iambe and walking forward. His glamour was as brilliant as ever, and even knowing better Sara was slightly in awe of him despite herself. Stupid empathy. She'd almost rather deal with the damn witch whales. "The dust crawler came seeking a fight, did she not? We should oblige her!"
That was most definitely not why she had come, but Sara kept her mouth shut. A trial by combat really would be the best possible outcome, and she didn't want to mess it up by provoking them into giving her a challenge that would be completely suicidal. The three males were still wearing their Ascension Armor, which meant she could probably take at least two of them without a problem if they let her use her weapons. Ascension Armor was for travel, not combat, so it didn't have much in the way of weapon mounts or armor.
"You think we should duel the athligi?" Kroneos asked, never losing his tone of enjoyment. "Will the wrath of three of the Starborn be enough to cleanse her of her sins?"
"Three? One should be more than sufficient," Atreus boasted. "With your permission, Khan, I would face the sarkanai alone."
"Would you now?" the other male chuckled. "Very well, Atreus. You shall have your wish. Athligi, behold your trial: defeat this man in single combat, and all will be forgiven. You and yours will fly free."
"Simple enough," Sara said cockily. "Will I be allowed weapons?"
The males looked at her as though she had grown an extra head.
"Of course," he answered, and sounded almost insulted. "We are not barbarians, dustling. Naturally you both will be allowed to use weapons and armor."
"Wait, Khan," interjected her challenger. "Perhaps she is right. It would hardly be fair to expect her primitive weapon to compete with mine. She has brought a sword. If you would but loan me your Starlance, we could settle this in the manner of her simple kind: with blades."
Sara could not see his face behind the concealment of his glorious helm, but as Kroneos turned to glace carefully at her, she could tell he was thinking the matter over carefully. Finally, he nodded.
"Very well." He walked up to his subordinate and presented his spear. Atreus grasped it eagerly, regarding the long, forked blades at the tip with open avarice. "The challenge is set. Athligi, you shall duel this Traveler, to the death or until one of you submits. You are permitted to use any melee weapon you would like."
"In that case, I'd like his," she quipped instantly, bringing cackling laughter from a few of the watching females.
"You may only use your own weapons," Kroneos corrected, but he sounded amused again. "We have given you a chance for atonement. Do not expect us to arm you as well."
"It was worth a shot."
"Perhaps it was," the Morrigi agreed, and gestured. The females began shifting, slithering away from Sara and her opponent. Soon, a large empty space had been cleared from them to fight in. "When I tell you to begin, the trial will commence, and will not cease until you have completed it, for good or ill. Have either of you any final words?"
"I dedicate this battle to you, daimea," Atreus proclaimed, saluting her with his spear. She bowed her head politely in response. "This alien will pay for daring to attack you."
"A worthy cause for battle, if there ever was one," Kroneos commented, before turning to Sara. "And you?"
"Yeah. If I die, don't tell my mother," Sara said, pulling out her sword with a grin. "She'd never forgive me for losing a fight with an overgrown feasting bird."
"Well, you certainly don't lack for confidence," he said with a laugh, before turning away to join the ring of females. "The time for speech has ended. May your ancestors watch over both of you, and show you the path to victory. The trial has begun!"
Atreus instantly threw himself upward, soaring easily through the air with the weightless grace she'd come to expect from his kind. This wasn't surprising, as she'd already noticed his leg muscles bunching as he'd braced for the first jump. His glamour was almost overpowering, making it very difficult to figure out where the illusion ended and the flesh began, but with her cybernetic spikes, she could make a good guess.
"Foolish dustling!" he crowed, looping leisurely overhead. "You forgot that flight was not forbidden in the terms of our duel! I wonder, will that crude collection of plates you call armor let you soar as I do?"
"Why would it need to?" she replied, walking to the center of their area and carefully grasping her blade. "I can kill you just fine from where I am."
"Hah! You would dare face a master of the skies with your belly in the dust?" he scoffed. "Allow me to show you the true hopelessness of your position!"
He swooped overhead, and Sara barely had time to react. He was fast, much faster than she had anticipated. She rolled away, but his starlance clipped her shoulder as she did. The plasma-charged blade threw her to the ground and melted the metal plates almost instantly. The thick weave below absorbed the rest of the hit, but from Atreus' cackling, she doubted the blow had been intended to seriously hurt her anyway.
"Now do you see?" he rasped, orbiting above her in a casual arc. "My reach is superior, my position unassailable! You may slash at me with your crackling sword all you wish, but you will never reach me! Run and roll through the dirt until you collapse, but sooner or later you will falter and then you will be mine!"
He wasn't exactly wrong, Sara conceded. With his superior size and the reach that spear gave him, he could probably hover out of her reach for as long as he wanted and stab down with virtual impunity. She would tire long before he would, and that glamour made it almost impossible to be completely sure where the real strikes were coming from. She considered trying to taunt his pride to force him to land, but the Morrigi idea of honor was too close to the Tarkasian one for that to work. A Turian or Human might fall for it, but their idea of honorable battle was completely insane. A clean kill without risk was much more admirable than foolishly exposing yourself to harm out of a misguided desire for 'fairness'. No, it seemed her best hope of victory would be in a gamble.
"I'll give you one chance!" she yelled up to him. "Surrender now, and we both walk away!"
"You dare ask ME to surrender? Wretched lizard, my people were great when yours were still carving weapons from rocks!"
"In that case, come on down," Sara taunted with a smile. "I've got a rock I'd like to show you."
He took the bait, curling into a sudden dive with that same incredible speed. It was a shallow dive, he wasn't foolish enough to let her attack directly, but it brought him close enough for her to try a different tactic. Grabbing her sword in both hands, she swung it over her head in a vicious arc and hurled it directly into the falling Morrigi's chest.
It was a reckless tactic, and if she'd tried it during her training her weapon master would have beaten her unconscious for even thinking of using it. Swords were not meant for throwing, and if it hit at even a shallow angle, Atreus would escape with nothing but a shallow scrape. She'd be unarmed and out of position, and he'd certainly impale her. But experience had taught her things her weapon master never had, and one of those lessons was this: sometimes, the long shot was the only shot you had.
Sara's sword, three feet of adamantium alive with arcing electricity, hit Atreus point first. In an instant, his glamour vanished as the chestplate of his Ascension Armor parted with a scream, and the sword's full charge dumped straight into his body. The Morrigi dropped like a stone, smashing hard into the rocky ground to land senselessly at her feet. With a single kick she rolled his huge body onto its back and planted a boot on his chest. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and twisted, just a little, causing him to groan in pain.
"Who's in the dust now?" she asked rhetorically, putting both hands on her blade. "I don't have to spare you. I don't really want to, either. But you aren't worth the earful I'd get from the Council if I killed one of you witch birds in cold blood. So you get another chance. Just one. Yield, right now, and you walk away. Otherwise, I'll nail your feathery ass to the ground and the Council will just have to get over it."
"I submit," the beaten Morrigi gasped, limbs still twitching from the earlier electrical attack. "You have humbled me, sarkanai."
"The trial is concluded!" Kroneos announced, prompting a flutter of wings and a lashing of tails from the gathered females. Sara wasn't sure if they were pleased or angry, but she knew she didn't care. In one move she yanked her blade from the fallen warrior and walked over to a nearby tent to clean it.
"That was…spectacular!" Liara exclaimed, hurrying over with Wrex in tow. "I'm glad you didn't kill him, though. This was all a misunderstanding, it would be horrible if someone died over it."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure getting impaled by a feathery egotist would probably count as horrible," Sara replied darkly. Before she could say more, Kroneos wound his way over, followed by Sophiea. Iambe was tending to her fallen boy-toy, she noted wearily. Heh. He gets his ass kicked and still gets the girl? Go figure.
"Well fought," the khan stated, scooping up his starlance from where it had fallen. "Atreus is clever and gifted, but he is also young and arrogant. Hopefully, this defeat will teach him some humility. It is not wise to underestimate the younger races."
"If it hasn't, he's welcome to look me up for Round Two," she answered, sliding her sword back into its sheath. "Can't guarantee I'll be as nice about it the second time around though."
"I doubt that will be necessary," Kroneos said jovially. "You came with the Salarian courier vessel that arrived yesterday, did you not?"
"Yeah, that one's ours," Sara agreed, rolling her injured shoulder to try and lessen the growing ache inside it. Strictly speaking, she probably shouldn't be giving away information like that, but screw it. The Morrigi knew everything else anyway.
"Excellent. I assume it has a shuttle that can pick you up?"
She nodded wearily. Her head throbbed from the effort of dealing with the numerous glamours and empathic attacks, and all she really wanted now was a full meal and a twelve hour nap.
"I'm sure your business is important. We would not want to detain you any further." Kroneos said, and Sara felt her body flood with warm, welcome feelings. She smashed them down ruthlessly. Even now she couldn't get away from their damn witch powers. "Please, summon your craft. I will arrange a decent corridor."
The armored Morrigi swept away, twisting gracefully around the larger females. As he left, Sara heard Wrex snort.
"That was way too easy," he growled quietly. "That khan guy set you up."
"Of course he did," Sara agreed. "I doubt that kid had ever seen real combat. He'd have never had a chance against an ordinary Ranger, much less a Spectre. Kroneos knew that. If he'd really wanted me to lose, the fight would have been three against one and they'd have just sniped me to death from a few kilometers away."
"So first they spend all that time trying to keep this Liara girl, then they just let us take her with barely a fight?" Wrex rumbled, his battered face scrunching into a painful-looking frown. The asari seemed offended by his dismissive reference to her, but his angry expression seemed to cause her to think better of actually speaking against him. "Something's not right, Princess. They're up to something."
"They're Crows," Sara retorted scornfully. "They're always up to something. And I am officially out of patience for their bullshit. Come on, let's grab Thane. As soon as that shuttle gets here, we're off this rock. At this point, I think it's safe to say that everything that can go wrong officially has."
It wasn't until the next morning, when the flashing Emergency ALERT message sprang up on her terminal, that Sara learned how dangerous it was to tempt the gods like that.