Jane, Wreck of the Hugo Gernsback, Aeia
"Wow...this is a shattered ship," Jane turned in a small circle as she stared at what was left of the MSV Hugo Gernsback. "Kinda like the things you see in vids."
"Right, and those always end so well," Zaeed rolled his eyes...eye? Whatever. Zaeed was annoyed.
"At some point they shut off the beacon. Then ten years later, here it is," Jacob scowled at the VI. "Not that there's anything useful here."
"Got something here, Cap," one of her techs, Swagger, his name was. That was unfortunate. She'd need to come up with something better.
With a slight jog, Jane moved up a few of the rusty levels to the terminal Swagger was working on. "What do you have?"
"Ship's log, from the look of it," Swagger was scrolling through data and pulling what was salvageable. "Chunks of it are missing. Intentionally missing. They tried to erase this after the wreck."
"That doesn't bode well," Zaeed sighed as he looked out over the open ocean. "Pretty planet."
"From what I can tell, the Captain died in the crash, along with a fairly large part of the senior staff. The third in command was somebody named Taylor. They ended up in control. I'm seeing something about native food being toxic."
"Well, that's peachy," Jane sighed as she tapped her helmet. "Glad I'm suited up then."
"Found another one," Kal popped up from a section that had been underwater. "Datapad seems to have survived in a locker."
Dropping back down, Jane took the pad and began skimming. "Chief medical officer. The native food has an enzyme that affects the mind. Starts to wear away at the higher brain functions. Taylor and the upper staff seem to have been hoarding the rations, and letting the crew eat the native stuff."
With a dark look, Jacob entered the compartment. "Wait, shouldn't the chief medical officer be higher command?"
"As the log here goes on, what she says makes less and less sense. She wants to go back to the sky so she can think," Jane sighed, tossing the pad to Swagger.
"There is a certain amount of sense in keeping uncontaminated rations for senior staff," Zaeed frowned as the group exited the wreck. "Native stuff doesn't seem to be lethal, and having some people with full minds would probably make survival easier."
"Yeah, I might even believe that if the beacon hadn't been shut off for a decade, on purpose," Jane scoffed. "I'm thinking it's something worse."
"Captain, this is Oppra'Don, we've made contact with some of the people that must have been crew," one of her squad leaders commed. "They're exceptionally passive. They are excited that we 'came from the sky place'. Their words."
"Alright, bring them down, I want to talk to them myself," Jane cut her comm and looked at Jacob for a long moment. "This doesn't look good, and I think it's going to get worse."
"Yeah...I had the same thought," Jacob's face twisted in disgust.
"You...you have his face!" one of the women said as she cringed away from Jacob. "He said that the star people would come! And you are here, but you have his face!"
"When we found them, they were gathering some sort of fruit," Oppra was saying. "There was this...statue...effigy...thing. Like it was some sort of primitive idol."
"It's of the Master," the woman that Jane identified as the former medical officer. "So we remember he is our Master and he can guide us home. But...I used to know...more…." The woman frowned as she concentrated. "His machines….they keep the wild ones away. He sent them away when they got...angry. I knew more!"
"I know you did," Jane laid a hand, gently on the woman's shoulder, frowning slightly when she flinched. "We'll take you home, get you thinking again."
"Yes!" the woman grabbed Jane's hand with her eyes alight with hope. "We won't have to serve him, if we remember who we are! We won't be hit when we forget!"
Jane could feel her jaw clench tight. She had heard similar things before.
"Doing scans, seeing neurologic damage. Probably reversible, given time. Not sure how much would be permanent. Children however…" Mordin trailed off as he looked around the makeshift village.
"Oppra," Jane turned to the marine. "Take these people to the shuttle. Make sure they get a full decontamination run, then get them to the Perugia. Mordin, can you do what you can to make them comfortable?"
"Of course, was going to suggest myself. Not wise for me to go with you. Take things like this personally," Mordin sniffed.
"Ma'am," Kal walked up slowly. "If it's alright, I would like to go with you. I have a...dislike for things of this nature."
Turning, Jane looked at Kal for a moment. She could see the tenseness in his posture. The way he held his rifle. How he shifted his feet slightly.
"Lost some people to slavers," Jane said. It was not a question.
"Family," was all Kal said.
"Jacob, Zaeed, Kal," Jane took one of the rifles from a marine and nodded. "Let's see if we can find this Master."
"Contact!" Jacob called as he ducked behind a fallen tree. "I'm seeing four mechs. Pretty bad shape, but they still have guns."
"I hate mechs," Jane muttered. "They just fall down when you shoot them."
"You'd prefer the screaming and thrashing?" Zaeed raised an eyebrow at her.
"When it's people like this?" Jane gestured to what looked like some sort of primitive village. Cobbled together huts, with scavenged materials from the wreck stood in a circle around what looked like a man-ish shaped thing on a pole. At the base of the thing was a small basket with bits of food, and shiney rocks in it. Like an offering.
"Alright, fair point," Zaeed conceded. "I just-"
"Hello?" a voice came over the comm. "I lost control of the mechs! The people went mad, and tried to attack me! I can't stop them!"
"We're in the village," Jane responded. "Pretty weird here."
"I...yeah….as they went off, I had to take care of them as best I could. Then they started doing things like that…" the man was saying. "I used the mechs to keep away the ones that got violent. Luckily there weren't too many of those."
"That's horse shit, Captain," a marine on her other channel commented. "We found a cliff. Small pile of bodies at the bottom. All of them shot in the back of the head."
"Whoever did this….he's barely human," Jacob spat as he stood and smashed the last three mechs together with a flair of his biotics. "My father died ten years ago and some...monster, took his skin."
Standing, Jane sighed. "Oppra? I've got some more people for you to pick up. Some children in this lot."
"Keelah…" the marine came back. "I'm grabbing a squad now and coming up."
"Jacob," Jane turned to the man. "You don't have to continue. Zaeed and I can handle this."
"No," Jacob took a deep breath before facing her. His face was set in a resolute mask. "I need to look this person in the eye. I need to hear what he has to say."
"It's not going to be good, kid," Zaeed said quietly.
"I know."
"I almost didn't think anybody was going to get the distress beacon," the dark skinned man smiled widely. "Never thought it would be quarians either. But I certainly am in no situation to argue! I should have a lot of back pay coming. Maybe I can get you something nice as a thank you."
"Almost ran out of food," Jacob said as he poked through the chests around the little house that overlooked the ocean. It was a nice view, if not for the sociopath in front of it. "Probably why you turned the beacon back on. You're little harem time was about up."
"Look...Captain," Ronald Taylor scowled. "I don't know about your people, but maybe you should control them better."
"Control?" Jacob spat as he rounded on the man. "Like what you did to those people? The bruises? The scars?"
"It's...not like that," Ronald cowered back. "At first, it was the five of us. It was easier if we divided the surviving crew between us, so we only had to take care of so many at a time. But then...then there were accidents. People got sick. Some were violent and fought back."
"Yeah, we know about that, tough guy," Zaeed Chuckled as he held up a data pad. "Seems within a week, all five people, other than you, ended up dead. At the bottom of a cliff."
"I...I just needed to be sure they were taken care of. It had been so long. So...sure...they were grateful and were willing…." Ronald was continuing, as if he hadn't heard Zaeed.
"Those women and men left in the village," Jane said quietly. "They were all pretty attractive."
"No! I mean...a little...but…." Ronald began to pace back and forth, agitated. "The children were accidents. I didn't pay attention. I kept them alive, so, sure, I did some things I'm not proud of…."
"You are just going to keep justifying this, any way you can!" Jacob slammed his fist into a table, shattering it. "Ten years of playing house. Taking advantage of men and women that couldn't fight back, and the moment it looked like you might be in danger, then you turn on the beacon!"
"I…." Ronald stopped and stared for a moment. "Ja...Jacob? What are you….?"
"I'm done, Captain," Jacob turned away from the older man. "It looks like this was a wild goose chase. My father died."
"Are you sure, Jacob?" Jane asked seriously as she looked into his eyes.
"Yes," he said quietly as he left the building.
"I'm sorry," Ronald started with a greasy smile. "I'll go willingly. I'm sure that the surroundings impaired my judgement."
"Doubt it," Jane chuckled as she unfolded her light service pistol. She had it for a long time. Elysium. Torfan. And now it fired a single round into Ronald's belly.
Crying out, Ronald fell, his hands clutching the wound. Tears were running down his face as he looked up at Jane, then to Zaeed. "Help me! Please don't kill me!"
"Worst thing about a gut shot?" Zaeed squatted down in front of the other man. "It isn't what kills ya. Round went straight through, and you'll bleed a lot. But, again, that isn't what will kill you. It's going to get nice and infected. Your gust are leaking all kinds of crap. And it's going to hurt like hell, the entire time." Zaeed spat, then stood, following Jacob out the door.
Jane paused for another long moment before dropping a pistol next to him. "I'm not totally heartless," she said quietly as she, too, left the building, leaving Ronald behind.
Ronald Taylor
It hurt! It hurt so bad! And his people weren't here! They were being taken away! It was all so wrong! How…..?
Ronald could barely see through the tears in his eyes. He could barely grab the gun with his weak, shaking hands.
Slowly, he put the barrel against the side of his head. Closing his eyes tightly, he pulled the trigger.
*click*
*Click, click*
"No…."
Grunt, SR-2 Normandy, Port Cargo
"Are there lists of human warriors?" Grunt sat in his creaking chair with his arms crossed before him. He frowned down at the steel surface of the table in front of him.
"There are many human warriors of note," Edi answered. "Are you referring to real of fictional?"
"Real ones," Grunt rolled his eyes, picking up his Battlemaster Gorge children's collector's mug and taking a drink. As if he would care about fictional warriors.
Edi seemed to apuse for a moment. "And would you be more interested in individual warriors of note, or tactical geniuses," She said at last.
"That's….a good question," Grunt scowled as he set his mug. Individual warriors were awe inspiring, in the things that they did. Sometimes they could sway entire battles just by being there. But they seldom won wars. Tactical brilliance was far more important in the long term. Something the krogan should have learned in the Rebellions. But they had not.
"Tactions," Grunt nodded.
"Very well, I shall also highlight leaders known for personal martial skill as well. All names will have the proper links to the military campaigns they were known for, so to give proper context," Edi supplied as information began downloading onto Grunt's terminal. "Also, the newest season of Battlemaster Gorge is set to download the next time the Normandy drops from FTL inside the extranet zones."
"Great!" Grunt smiled as he began poking through the names on his listings. Might as well start in the beginning. "Wonder what is so great about this Alexander guy…."
John, SR-2 Normandy, The Loft
"I don't understand this fight," John stood with a frown on his face, and his arms crossed.
"It's not a fight!" Tali threw her hands in the air as she stomped over to the fish tank. It was adorable, the way she threw her little fits. Often annoying, but adorable.
"So...extremely tense negotiations?" John smirked.
"Now you're making fun of me," Tali growled slightly as she turned to face him.
"A little," John admitted with a shrug. "We are a Bonded couple. It was a battle just to get you to stay up here with me, and now you are trying to sleep on the couch."
"It's far more comfortable than almost anybody in the Flotilla!" Tali defended herself illogically.
"As depressing as that is, it is still far from the point," with a deep, dramatic sigh, John sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what I did to make it so you don't want to sleep with me here, but if you tell me, I'll fix it."
Tali stood for a moment then shivered slightly. "John…." her voice came out weak and almost sad. "That's not fair! You know it isn't that. I do want to. I'm…just nervous."
"Alright," John held up his hands. " That may have been a low blow, and I apologize. But still, I want to be with you. It helps keep the nightmares away. And I mean that. Besides, I love you and love touching you."
For another long moment Tali stood staring at him before letting her head drop in defeat. "Alright, I understand. It's just going to be taking some getting used to."
"I understand," John smiled as he stood and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. "And I still think the little growl is kinda sexy."
Tali let out a little growl that broke into a fit of giggles. "You are so bad for me, human…."
John opened his mouth to speak, but Miranda's exasperated voice interrupted him.
"Excuse me, Shepard," the woman sighed. "We have a small issue with Grunt."
Blinking, John shared a worried look with Tali. "Is he getting violent or something?"
"Oh, no!" Miranda was quick to assure him. "He...uh...he has taken every sweetener packet on the ship. And creamer. The coffee filters. A few various food containers. And has taken it all down to the main cargo hold."
"That's...weird," John frowned. "What is he doing?"
"He seems to be playing some sort of war game."
"I don't think I heard you correctly."
"He has set them all up and is reenacting the Battle of Issus," Miranda said, sounding defeated.
"He what now?"
"He took Gerald, and they are reenacting Alexander the Great's Battle of Issus," Miranda was now sounding irritated. "They have all the sweeteners and creamers and filters and I want a fucking cup of coffee!"
"Calm down Miranda," John chuckled. "It can't be that bad…."
"He has your teabags as well."
"Fucking lizard is going down!"
SR-2 Normandy, Main Cargo Hold
"So, with this, the Persian leader, Darius had cut off Alexander's supply lines. When he massed to move, he found that Alexander had already turned and was marching north to meet him," Gerald was saying as he pointed out a line of salt packets.
"So...how many men did he have? What I was reading had no solid numbers," Grunt frowned at the set up before him.
"Old numbers claimed it to be around six hundred-thousand, but honestly, at the technological level at the time, that was pretty well impossible. Realistic estimates put it closer to just over one hundred-thousand. Which is still ridiculous for the time," Gerald slid a few more lines of salt into lines. "On the other hand, Alexander, marching north, was forty thousand or so, but not more than fifty."
"But if he was outnumbered that poorly, why did he go back? Sounds like a suicide run," Grunt drummed his fingers as he looked as the much smaller number of pepper packets making up the Hellenistic army.
"Location," John said as he walked up to the pair, looking at the scene. "Location, location, location."
"What?" Grunt looked up with a frown.
"Look," John squatted down and gestured. "His western flank is protected by the Gulf of Issus, and by stopping here." John shifted a few water bottles into a line. "They had the river between them."
"But Darius had Alexander's supply lines, and outnumbered him almost two to one," Grunt crossed his arms.
"And if you were Darius, and some upstart turian that has been ripping apart every country he has come across, including your own, and now you have him, outnumbered, and he sat right in front of you, what would you do?" John smirked.
"Destroy them!" Grunt said without hesitation, before pausing to nod. "I see."
Looking the situation over, Tali blinked. "But if Alexander had this side of the river, wouldn't crossing it have been a problem for this Darius?"
"Yes and no," Gerald pulled some of the pepper packets back. "By letting some of his people pull back, Darius thought he saw hesitation in the face of a larger enemy. So, pushing his cavalry though would give him a chance to out maneuver the Hellenistic army."
"And as they crossed, boom," John shifted salt and pepper around. "The Greeks changed their course and began to pick the Persians apart as they crossed."
"And allowing the Greeks to swing wide to the east, and fold up on Darius and break his army," Gerald nodded. "It was a decisive victory that marked the beginning of Persia's decline."
"That's impressive," Grunt nodded. "Even with bronze weapons, Alexander led from the front lines as well…."
"If you want to know more, like how Darius should have been able to win, or how Alexander could have done faster, talk to Jane," John chuckled as he stood up. "She has a tactical mind that is frightening. I know this stuff because of her making me play strategy games with her."
"Yes, quite amazing," Miranda's bitter voice came from behind the group. "Now, if I don't get my coffee, I will be spacing this cargo hold and starting over with a whole new Shepard."
John, Starboard Observation Deck
"Shepard," Samara nodded her head slightly as the door closed behind John. She was sitting cross legged before the open observation window, staring out at the stars. Before her, hovering, was a small singularity field. Samara's eyes glowed as she concentrated on keeping her biotic field. Holding it so that the small mass of dark energy wouldn't collapse.
"I've seen that before," John said quietly as he walked to stand near her, looking at the stars himself. "Hestalia used to do it when we first went to live with her. She tried to teach me, but I didn't have enough biotics to handle it."
"It is a technique that can take many decades to grasp. And centuries to perfect," Samara nodded as she allowed the power to flare out. "You speak Thessian very well, know surprising amounts of thessian culture, and your biotic skills that I have seen, show a tremendous amount of skill."
"Ha," John snorted. "Hardly skill anymore. Hestalia taught me control, which is what I lacked. I didn't know how to turn it off, or limit myself. I was in danger of overloading my brain everytime I used biotics. So, really, she more than saved my life many times. And I always liked cultures and languages, so it seemed like a way of showing respect."
"From what I have seen, your biotics are nothing as weak as you indicate." Samra stood in a single fluid movement and turned to face him. "If I had to estimate, I feel that you would be almost at the level of an asari commando."
Frowning, John looked at the stars for a long moment before turning to the justicar. "How much about me do you know? About what happened and all?"
"Standard rumors. Hero of the Citadel and all," Samara nodded slightly. "And of course, once I knew I would be helping you, I looked into your background. I was pleasantly surprised with the amount of good you try to do in the galaxy. I also learned that you had been killed. This...Edi, has informed me that you were brought back to life by Cerberus."
"Well, sadly, that is true," John made a sour face as he looked away. "I still remember what the sound of the leaking air was like. How the cold came slowly. How it felt when my eyes boiled…."
He stood then, staring out at space, but not seeing it. Then, shaking himself, he sighed deeply. "My body was exposed to a considerable amount of Ezo, from the Normandy's drive core. And when they put my back together, my biotics are a lot stronger than they were. It throws off my balance. I'm used to little bursts of control, but now it comes out like a hose."
"I see," Samara nodded, a small smile on her face. "I can probably help you with that, if you would like. I know the same techniques Hestalia probably used to teach you. Perhaps we could attempt to reign in the wild human as well."
John paused a long moment contemplating. "You spoke earlier like you knew Hestalia. And I noticed that you avoided him when my family visited."
Samara gave a small laugh as she turned to look out the window. "In another life, I knew Hestalia. I was his teacher, in the beginning. I will not tell you more. If you wish to learn of his life, you must ask him."
"Understandable," John nodded and turned to look out the window as well. "Was he as terrible a student as he was a teacher?"
"In the beginning?" Samara laughed quietly as she tilted her head. "The worst. But, as I assume he became for you, the best."
"Thank you."
"Of course, Shepard. I am always willing to speak, and will give you what wisdom that I can."
John snorted as he glanced at her. "Like how to control a biotic psychopath that has a heart of gold and dark tastes in poetry?"
"I am can be a teacher, Shepard. Not a miracle worker," Samara laughed again. "But we will do what we can."
Life Support
"Shepard, I had been speaking with your crew," Thane nodded to John as he placed a rifle on a small stand.
"Have you now?" John smiled as he looked around the small area. There was nothing of note in the place, other than weapons, a cot and a small chest.
"Indeed. I had my doubts when I heard about the Cerberus connection, but most of your crew seems to have complete opposite views than I expected," Thane smiled slightly as he gestured to a seat across from the small table. "In fact, they are so fervent in their denials, it smacks of recent converts, wishing to distance themselves from their past as quickly as possible."
"Really?" John's eyebrows raised in surprise. "One of my goals when this whole mess started was to take everything away from the Illusive Man. The ship, the resources, and the crew. Edi had told me that I was having some success with the later, but it is always good to hear."
"Now, I assume you came for more than pleasantries," Thane nodded. "I assure you that my medical issues will not affect abilities for a time yet. And there is no danger to you or the crew, it is a unique issue for drell."
"Yes, I looked into it. I'd offer help, seeing as how Mordin Solus is on the ship, and she may not look like it, but Xera'Raan has impressive medical skills," John sighed quietly. "But I doubt we can solve anything that the Hanar have been unable to fix in this long."
"As you say, Commander. Though I do appreciate your offer. And I appreciate being given this chance to balance the scales in a meaningful way," Thane nodded deeply. "I have taken many lives. Most of them were lives the galaxy is better without, but being given the chance to stop such an evil? That would never come again."
"Or so one would hope," John chuckled.
"Indeed. You do seem to make a career out of stopping the unstoppable. I look forward to seeing you in action," Thane smirked as he clasped his hands together. "I do have a request, if you will permit it."
"Oh course Thane, if I can," John nodded with a smile.
"I was watching you and the advance of your people in the Dantius Tower, and I was impressed by your skills. Given an opportunity, I would appreciate a chance to spar with you," Thane inclined his head again.
"Anytime," John grinned as he leaned in slightly. "My sister is the actual unarmed monster of the family. Any tricks you could give me to take her down a peg would be welcomed."
"Well, I can't promise anything," Thane laughed fully for the first time. It was a warm, friendly laugh. "But I'll show you what I can."
