Rael yawned as he watched the late afternoon news and ate from a bowl of Gulir. He took his fork and spun some leafy food in the broth, soaking it before bringing it up to his mouth. It tasted heavenly.
As much as Rael hated to admit it, he enjoyed being in the luxurious place hidden away on the desert plateau. And he really did hate it.
It felt like he was being forced into a routine of comfort, and it really tore at his spirit. He wanted to do something, anything, that was good for the quarian people. He devoted his life to them. But his hands were tied with Randy being on constant lockdown after his previous stunt to escape however long ago. He could sometimes see the dust-colored geth on his patrols outside whenever he passed by his one window, and it only came in a few times a day to check in. Whether it be to stock food or to make sure the late admiral was feeling alright, and every time, Rael would try to get an answer out of him about Shepard's return from his mission.
It's been a very long time since he's gotten a substantial update, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. Down to the point where he could ignore the glowering flashlight head of the death machine staring at him.
What kind of mission requires him to be away for this long?!
He kept his eyes on the screen. Post-war reports kept flooding in. The krogans future was looking to be quite promising as Clan Urdnot had finally begun accepting help from a few choice salarian scientists to oversee the progress spread of the cure. It wasn't surprising that they were under constant guard, though. There were few interviewed krogans that expressed concerns that they would try to undo the hard work done to get them cured in the first place.
The cure that Shepard fought for.
Turians were also getting support from the krogans in rebuilding Palaven and cleaning up the aftermath. It was strange to see, but the leader of Clan Urdnot made it clear in an interview that he was pushing the ancient grudges behind. He seemed an unlikely sort, his face was battle-scarred and a history of fighting and death was evident in his large eyes. But his words were sincere in making sure this new alliance was being followed by his people.
The alliance that Shepard fought for.
The asari were the last hit by the reapers, and thus didn't suffer as much damage as the other homeworlds of the galactic community. But due to their intricate architecture and high regard for their own culture, rebuilding efforts were considerably slow compared to the others. Even some historic sites and other places of importance that were damaged during the initial attack have not received even a simple coat of paint in the past several months as they were documented carefully and thoroughly and judged on what should become of them next. The asari were resolute in making the future picture perfect.
The future that Shepard fought for.
There was always his name somewhere in the reports, detailing how his hand was personally involved. Rael wondered how the wheelchair-roaming hybrid felt about all of it. He could only imagine what it would be like for your prophecy of galactic destruction to be validated after all these years. He had to commend the human for not being selfish and keeping the "I told you so's" from going to his head. He just got up to the plate and did what needed to be done.
For Earth.
Rael sighed. The planet's fall was reason enough. He felt a spark of guilt again. Here he was, enjoying his time alone on his planet that was only touched by the reapers. And even Shepard took care of that problem without help from the Crucible.
Earth was still an ashy pile of rubble given from the news. It used to look a lot worse given from the footage that Rael saw from Shepard's initial welcome when he first woke up from the dead. But still, compared to the rest of the galaxy, besides Tuchunka obviously, it still looked like a wasteland. Reports from Earth practically begged for more rebuilding efforts from the other species, and for the most part, the galaxy listened. But species were getting restless and wanting to get back to their own homes, their own lives. The humans have shown their tenacity, perhaps the galaxy thought that they were sure to keep sticking to that. It was a dangerous line of thought that made it easier to believe that their help was no longer needed.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to help at least a little more.
With that guilt, Rael backtracked in his impatience.
Take your time, Captain. He thought in an apology. He sighed again, tapping a datapad in his hand that he had forgotten was there.
"In more recent news, Jordan Carry, more well known as the attacker on the Citadel at Captain Shepard's press conference, has mysteriously died while incarcerated. The details are still unknown but evidence suspects it to have either been disease or even suicide."
I'm not usually the one to think this...but good riddance to him!
He looked the datapad over again and remembered the words he had typed down. It was a list of the ways that the tech in his room could benefit the quarian people once he comes to getting off-world, just so nothing went to waste.
Yes, he was still sticking to that plan on leaving Rannoch. He had no future here, no place, no right. But he wasn't going to leave without seeing his daughter at least once. As the days blurred by, his thoughts about her became a constant. He wondered what she was doing, and how she was doing. Being an admiral is tough work, especially with putting up with the likes of Koris and Xen.
He gave a slight chuckle.
She has the patience of her mother. She'll be a better admiral than I ever was.
He still missed her, and it pained him that she was never going to know that he was alive. He wished he could go with Shepard's plan in having him reintroduced to the quarian populace, but he couldn't bear the thought of being welcomed back and pitied about his lost ship and crew when it was entirely his fault. He has to trust his instincts, and for the sake of his sanity, he had to leave Rannoch.
"Are you feeling well, Creator-Zorah?" Clicked a familiar voice.
Rael looked towards the dust-colored geth who had just entered his chamber and again was reminded of the peace that was brought about between the quarians and the geth. Another unbelievable act wrought about by Shepard. Even though Rael still didn't quite trust it yet, he had to trust Shepard in his decision to spare them. He closed his eyes. He has to learn to put away his past grievances, just like the krogans, the turians, and salarians.
And with that thought, he began to grow a strange feeling of...liking this geth unit, Randy.
He still didn't trust it because of its constant watching and patrolling, but he couldn't blame it for those things. The geth's simple personality of a caretaker was nice enough. It never complained, and all it wanted was to make sure he was okay. Of course, that's what the robot's objective merely was. But underneath those simple words from day to day, he could pick up faint traces of what Randy was like outside of all that.
He had a sense of good-heartedness and innocence, almost like a young teen helping the elderly. Rael could've sworn he laughed one occasion but couldn't remember why. Maybe the geth's obliviousness was just a guise to mask his inorganic sense of humor. Or maybe the old quarian was just overthinking things. Still, Rael was surprised as he looked at this machine under a new lens. Maybe Randy was bored, having to watch him all this time like he was a crotchety old man. Was it possible that the geth had friends? Could geth even apply values to things like friendship?
Rael stunned himself as he applied these thoughts to his own life. He was definitely bored sitting around in this room. And his only friends were Gerrel and Raan, and he bumped into Raan forever ago but didn't even feel a sense of excitement when he saw her again. He felt guilty. Perhaps he was more like a machine than Randy was.
"I sense a flux in your emotional status, Creator-Zorah," the geth spoke again.
"Just thinking..." Rael paused for a single moment, wondering if he should say what he was about to say. It didn't take long before he decided to go with the experiment he was about to conduct.
"I was just thinking...Randy."
"May I ask what you were thinking about?" The geth asked, ignoring the occasion that it was the first time the late admiral had used his name.
"Just a lot of different things, I suppose," he answered emptily while leaning over in his seat, hands clasped together as a holder of the chin of his helmet.
"Like what?" Randy pressed.
"What has been accomplished while I was gone. A whole war passed, the galaxy united and..." He looked back at the robot, a meaningful look in his eyes, "...and the death of ancient grudges."
Surprisingly, Randy stayed silent. Instead, he lowered his head and blinked a couple of times. He teetered on his feet, then looked back up.
"There are many good things Shepard-Captain has done," he stated simply.
At those words, Rael's speaker light flickered as he was about to ask something, but the geth already knew his inquiry and interrupted him.
"Shepard-Captain is still yet to return from his mission. It may take even longer still. Trust me, Creator-Zorah, you will be the first to know when he comes back."
Rael deflated as his unspoken question was answered. He leaned back again into the couch and released a heavy sigh. What more could he do from this large room that was somehow claustrophobic? He should be somewhere, helping somebody, ordering for more resources, attending meetings, something. But Admiral Rael'Zorah had died a long time ago, he could never go back to doing that again. No, he was just Rael, the unknown quarian stuck out in the fringes of society, like a hermit, an outcast.
He hated waiting.
Knock Knock.
Both of their heads jerked at the sudden noise at the outside door. Rael made to stand up but Randy rose a hand to signal him to stay down and out of sight. He thought that the young geth was the only one that knew of this location other than Shepard himself, and he surely wasn't at the door. So who knew of this isolate location? Randy must be wondering about that, too, considering his cautious movements to the entrance.
Rael felt a nervous chill spike through his neck. He didn't know what to expect, so he prepared himself the best way he thought he could by positioning himself next to the vidscreen on the wall after Randy was past the inside door. His helmet pressed close so he could hear, and his heart thudded and someway, somehow...he knew that whatever happened next will not be good.
Click.
"Unit Randy," came a rough, robotic accent that reverberated throughout the room. Another geth. Rael released half of the nervous breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"Yes, who are you?"
"Unit Dyad. I've tracked your signal and came to...spread the word."
A metallic patting noise sounded. "Me? Word? What word, Unit–?" Then silence. Rael pressed his head even closer, struggling to hear any new noises. There was none.
"Yes, Unit Dyad," came Randy's voice again, it sounded pitched down, deeper to where it was borderline creepy. "I appreciate you sharing this, I will be sure to rendezvous with you later," and the door clicked to a sudden close.
That was quick.
Rael stealthily moved to the wall in front of him, the one with the large window. He found a small indent that ran vertically of the floor and dug his gloved fingers in it, pulling the wall off to the right so he could get a small sliver of sight to the outdoors.
Who is this Dyad that just shows up out of nowhere?
His one eye peered out onto the desert floor, and his ears waited for some sort of hum of a vehicle. Instead, he only heard clanking footsteps grow slightly larger, then fade again as it went away from the building. Rael searched harder until the source of the footsteps came into view. A hulking purple geth with electric blue markings. He didn't have a vehicle. He just walked back towards the city in the darkening sun.
Who in the–?
The purple geth flashed around like lightning, causing Rael to jerk back behind the wall slightly. He still had an eye on it, and the geth's red blaring eye stood out like a second sun on the horizon. It shifted, probably scanning the building. Rael crouched closer to the ground, anticipating the strange visitor's next actions. He was finally able to release the rest of his breath once its eye disappeared behind its head and the figure grew smaller as it walked back to the city.
"Creator Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Alarei," came a deep voice.
Rael nearly jumped out of his suit, and his breath was drawn out in fright, causing him to suck air back in. He turned to see Randy standing right next to him.
"Keelah, Randy," he gasped. "Please don't do that."
Randy didn't reply.
"So, who was that, exactly? What 'word' did he bring? Is Captain Shepard back?"
Randy's head tilted down to him. "The, 'word,' Creator Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Alarei..." he began, his photoreceptor flickering off and on.
"...is DEFENSE."
And with that, his flashlight head flashed from white to a blaring red, and his arm lunged out and grabbed Rael by the left shoulder, lifting him up and squeezing hard enough to make the quarian gasp in pain.
"Randy?! By the ancestors!" He grunted and his arms flew up to support himself. His heart pounded in his head and for a split second, he thought of his failure on the Alarei, and flinched. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Defending my kind," Randy hissed, and squeezed a little harder, his fingers digging in murderously, ready to dismember.
Rael looked at him in astonishment. This wasn't like the old Randy he knew that brought him food and supplied him with anything he required. This was a killer machine, bred by war over three centuries ago. This machine was not alive. No living thing would turn on a credit like this, to commit so easily to slaughter.
What happened to you?
Rael was scared, having lost use to his left arm. It felt like only an ounce more of pressure was needed to snap all the bones in his shoulder, and with his heart sitting just below...he didn't want to die...not again.
Not this time.
The gravity weighing on his shoulder didn't make the situation feel any better, so he did his best to keep himself raised up by using his good arm and both his legs on the geth as if it were some kind of metallic tree. All the while, he looked for a way to escape the killer machine's grasp before the bones in his shoulder became nothing short of powder.
"The Creators had hunted us down, been killing us for centuries..." The machine said under Rael's jerky movements, its red light penetrating through Rael's visor.
"What are you talking about?!" The trapped quarian responded fearfully. "We only came in contact again in recent years!"
Randy's photoreceptor shifted. But he ignored the late admiral's words as he brought him closer. "...The humans were and are the only organic race that was willing to cooperate with us. They listen."
The pressure was increasing, and Rael flailed his good arm out at the machine once he was brought closer, hoping against hope that he might be able to escape this robot's death grip. His fingers danced onto until it snagged its shoulder armor. It was a plate that sharpened to a point in the end. He didn't know what else to do, so he did what he could and tried prying the plate off, hoping that whatever damage he could cause would allow him to escape or at least get a moment's relief for his fracturing limb.
"I will not allow for us to die off now because of your petty grudges," the robot clicked.
Rael ignored his nonsensical words as he continued to pull at the armor plate. His fingers curled around and underneath it, feeling a point where the piece connected to the shoulder. After one tug, he found out it was connected by strong magnetized metal due to a small grating noise. One more tug and he had ripped it clean off. Rael felt successful, but Randy still stood there, unshaken, with the quarian still in his sharp hands. Instead, his red eye looked on at him, amused, making the trapped quarian feel even more nervous.
Rael gave a wary chuckle as he held the piece of armor in his good hand, and without thinking, brought it smashing into the side of the geth's flashlight head, throwing it off to the side.
Using the same armor plate, he dug it between his shoulder and the death machine's deadly grip, trying to use it as a lever to pry himself away but came away with a result less than successful. Randy's head turned back, the tendrils in his photoreceptor solidifying into a single layer that angled down to make him glare.
"Your resistance is futile, Creator," he said, sounding more frustrated as he readjusted his grip on the quarian.
"Yeah, well, I don't feel like dying today," Rael gasped and pulled the armor plate away. He moved onto his next idea and raised it off to the side, using it as a makeshift knife as he brought the piece careening into the arm that Randy used to hold him up.
He must have hit something important just hard enough because the shoulder armor dug deep into the machinic 'flesh,' causing a spark. Randy's fingers retracted and his arm jerked back awkwardly, dropping Rael to his feet. The old man wasn't even given the chance to console his aching shoulder before he made a blow to him with his other arm, sending the man back across the room and into the wall.
Gah!
Underneath of being dazed and the situation's escalation, Rael followed his instincts and experimented with the floor next to him in a panicked frenzy for the shoulder plate. The sudden thumping on the ground told him that Randy was now sprinting up to him, boosting his heartbeat to a near-impossible speed and causing his hand to shoot around into a sweep until he found the piece of armor on the floor. In an instant, he blindly extended the sharp end out in front of himself.
It was pointless. Randy's metal foot came charging forward and hooking Rael's legs from the floor, causing him to spin on his rear and fall to his side. The pitiful weapon that was the shoulder armor dropped from his hands and spun just out of reach. Rael's breath caught in his throat.
Clearing his vision, he could see Randy spin around above him, his silhouette casting a sinister shadow in the warm sunset light of the window. His damaged arm sparked again and was kept close to himself. His eye glowed angrily.
"Nice try," he growled, and shot down with his good hand and pulled Rael close again by his collar, shoving his metal face into his visor.
"The Morning War over three hundred years ago was the independence of the Created," he said fast and loud. Rael could imagine if he wasn't a walking lunatic machine, then spittle would be flying everywhere. "But come dusk, and the Created will not just be independent, they will be the ones in control."
Oh, hell no! Randy, what in blazes happened to you?!
The words struck like a lightning flash, quick to make him become enraged, and in that rage, he began to pull at any metal he could find, again resulting without success. The geth clicked, almost laughing, and raised his damaged arm into a fist.
Screw it.
Rael initially didn't want to hurt the young robot that had taken care of him ever since he was resurrected, but his words were like a nightmare coming back to life. He didn't know what that other purple robot had done, but it didn't matter now, Rael was too caught up in the situation of a potential geth takeover as well as trying not to die. So he initiated his last-ditch effort and shot his hand forward, grabbing Randy's ocular lightbulb before the geth could react.
He squeezed his fingers around and yanked on it simultaneously, almost slipping on a losing grip. The eye didn't break instantly but he could tell by the sound of cracking glass and peeling wires that he was causing some damage, and Randy's screaming clicks was also a major hint. It pleased him.
Useless hunk of junk!
The geth used his damaged arm to get a grip on Rael's hand and ripped it away.
It was a costly mistake.
The wires broke. The geth's photoreceptor was torn clean off. Screaming binary ensued as it was essentially blinded. The next thing that Rael knew, he was smashed against the wall by the wild and crazed dust-colored robot. Their hands were pinning him by his arms. His eyes widened.
"You die!"
A rattling echoed underneath its words and Rael's foot met something solid. Without shifting his head, he looked down to see Randy's shoulder armor plate next to his feet. Quick to act, he pincered the metal between the two large toes on his foot and flexibly angled his leg up so the plate could get into the grip of his hand.
Randy, unable to notice, pulled one hand back to deliver a killer blow on the old quarian. A blow that was blocked when Rael painfully raised the shoulder plate with his aching arm.
The blow was deflected, but only slightly as it sent the piece of armor into Rael's chest when he lost his grip. He gasped, but managed to swoop the makeshift weapon back up again with his good hand, and with fearful rage, brought it smashing into the base of the geth's neck.
Sparks flew. The binary clicks became garbled. Metal hands scrambled to the 'wound.' Oily fluids gushed from the place where the sharp piece of armor sat lodged in Randy's neck.
Rael didn't know what he hit. But whatever it was, it was enough to mirror a horribly organic response to getting stabbed in the throat. He even had to step back and feel the shock of watching Randy, the geth caretaker, crumple onto his knees and fall over, sparks still spewing from his metal frame and oil pooling on the floor like blood. He didn't know what to feel in between his ragged breathing, but he did know one thing.
He didn't deserve this...Ancestors...What have I done..?
He fell to his knees, both from exhaustion and sorrow. He consoled his throbbing shoulder as well as his memory of the geth caretaker. This day had taken a dark turn, and so quickly. He could scarcely believe the past few minutes had occurred.
...What the hell even happened to him?
An old memory sparked at those words. He remembered how his daughter told him that she secured a geth's memory core years ago. That was how the reaper situation began in the first place. Usually, back then, when geth units ceased to function, their memory cores were wiped completely. But the geth now are individual intelligences, surely that was something they would've fixed.
Rael scooted himself across the floor near Randy's body, quickly picking through the sheets of metal as he tried to recall how his daughter managed to retrieve the memory core in her report. While he worked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her. She was the first to mention the danger of the reapers to the galaxy. If not for her, there probably wouldn't be a galaxy left right now.
Can't focus on that.
He dragged himself back to his work. Carefully, painfully, he picked through the cords and wires at the base of Randy's head, searching the depths of his memory for the words of Tali's report. He followed as much as he could remember as he shifted metal around and pried mechanisms away until he got to the center of the geth's neck. The seeping oily fluids made it difficult to work, but still, he kept going.
That Dyad character is too dangerous, I need this information...how could they possible hack other geth units? The geth could never be hacked!
He didn't know how long he was working for, anywhere from maybe a half-hour to a few, but eventually, he managed to retrieve some kind of storage compartment. Like a black box perhaps. It was smaller than he expected, with his fingers able to touch his thumb when he wrapped his hand around it. But all that was left now was to see if he was successful in retrieving the data unscathed. Anxiously, he took the small cube over to the terminal that was set up along the wall and connected them.
The terminal blinked to life, its orange light flickered as it read the cube for any data. Rael tilted his forehead and clutched his speaker light between his thumb and forefinger as he watched eagerly.
The terminal stopped loading the data and shifted its light to show what it found on its display.
Rael gasped in relief. Everything was there. Memory logs flooded the screen, each separated by billions of reports of each little action Randy has made and all its details. All of it was outlined by text of what he was 'thinking' at the time, as well as visual files coded in numbers and letters that could be converted into images and vids. Obviously he shirked from touching those.
He grimaced at them. The most recent actions and thoughts were obviously the most violent. He did his best to avoid them and skim past until he could find anything relating to this Dyad thing. It depressed him that even though his and Randy's struggle did not take long, a very time consuming amount of scrolling was needed to get past those logs. He didn't know how long the screen shifted upwards until the name Dyad popped up.
Once it did, he began reading the logs of the encounter. There was a break in the lines after the initial meeting. Something about files stimulating very old logs, injecting the code with, "fear memories," that made hostilities towards the quarians absolute. And that's what got his attention.
Randy wasn't hacked, nothing took control of him...he acted out of his own free will! It was just these new memory logs that made him murderous!
Rael wanted to view these new, false memory logs, but for the sake of his own sanity, he didn't. Instead, he looked at any information that they were tagged with. Anything that could clue him in like general notes, or even dates for when the false memories were created would help him get a better understanding of what the hulking purple geth had planned. Something big was happening, and whatever it was, it could mean another near-extinction event at the hands of the geth.
There was only one thing that was relatively consistent between the new memory logs and the most recent ones, and it was Randy's thoughts in between his words of rage. Something about, "returning," to a location within a string of numbers.
Coordinates..?
He compiled the data.
...Even better!
He was going to need a navigational computer if he was to understand it, and that meant he needed a ship.
Seems like I'm moving off-world sooner than expected.
He ejected the memory core and shut down the terminal. Whatever those coordinates led to, it would bring him closer to the geth threat, and it would mean peace for the quarian people. All he needed was a way to get there, and that meant another escape. He stuck the core in one of his many pockets and made his way outside.
It was already getting dark outside. And the soft shimmering of the city in the distance that reflected the last of the day's light was his only pointer for the moment before it became completely dark.
It's going to be one hell of a drive back to–
He turned to see a geth ship touched down just below the horizon, about the size of his thumb when he extended it outwards. It was still far away, but it was much closer than the city.
Would you look at that.
Thanking his luck, he made a small trot to Randy's hovercraft and hopped in, kicking dust into the wind as he spun towards the ship as the evening took over the sky, achingly watching as the geth ship grew bigger and bigger, slowly but surely.
Still not getting a full grasp of the controls for the geth hovercraft, he skidded to a stop in front of the ship and was surprised to see the front door was left wide open. That could either mean that it was a trap, or Dyad must be really overconfident. Given his past experiences with the geth, he would assume the former. Rael dug around him to see if he could find anything he could use to defend himself. After minutes of constant searching, he gave up and hopped out of the hovercraft.
It was either he willingly walked into a potential trap, or he walks away and let the purple geth continue about his mission. It was an easy decision to make, but he still hated it. So he inched onward, reminding himself that there wasn't any fellow quarians with him this time to die at his feet. In some weird way, it comforted him.
He forced his legs to make movements constantly, never slowing down but making each footstep deliberate as he went up the ship's ramp. Once he reached the opening, he poked his head in to look around the small lower deck. It was completely dark now, and he could barely see a thing within the ship. He cursed his lack of a flashlight, as it would help greatly in locating controls, but he made do with his powerful eyesight, which only took a few moments to adjust to the dark.
He shifted his body around to move his shadow away from where he wanted to look. The deck was bare, devoid of life, a telling sign of the geth. The only thing from the bare walls was a simple ladder, which Rael grasped gingerly and hoisted himself up.
The next deck was larger than the one below, but it was more of a corridor rather than a platform. On either side were rooms, presumably for engine maintenance given their location. But up ahead was a smaller ramp that led to another door. Rael drifted past it carefully and ended up straight onto the bridge. It wasn't much of a bridge really, but rather a very large cockpit. There was a pilot's chair, cold and bare, and just behind it was exactly what Rael was looking for.
A navigational computer.
He took a step forward, noting a sinister looking rifle that he had never seen before was propped up alongside the pilot's chair. He stepped even closer to the computer, warily lifting his hand above the buttons. But before he could push one, a different display lit up green by the cockpit, causing him to jump a little. Relieved that it wasn't signifying a trap, he sidestepped the computer and went straight to the display. Some words and numbers were feeding into it.
NORMANDY COORDINATES: OBTAINED...
Following the words was a string of numbers. From a first glance, Rael recognized what sector the coordinates were set in, a particular spot out in uninhabited space. Rael was curious as to how Dyad got his metal claws on this information, but his curiosity was overtaken as an idea of what the purple robot might be up to had stolen the forefront of his thoughts.
He caused Randy to attack me, Admiral Zorah...that means...Nonono, not Tali!
Fearful energy crashed through his veins and he rushed by the navigational computer, jamming a thumb into a button to bring a display to life. The whole ship came to life, instead, and lights began to flash red. It was hard to see. It made memories spark from the attack on the Alarei.
Dammit! Not again!
His eyes shot around the flashing red. He had seen this before. This was the first sign of the geth forming new neural links, just like it happened back on his old ship, causing the deactivated units to come back to life and gun every one of his crewmembers down.
Oh, Ancestors!
He was going to relive a nightmare. His eyes drank in his surroundings, his panicking feet wandered the bridge, waiting for geth bots to emerge from out of anywhere. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly tripped over in shock. He was going to die again, in the same way as last time. No, not again, he wasn't going to go out like this again. He looked down, and somehow the rifle that was on the pilot's chair was now in his hands. He thought about it for a moment.
A buzzing came from above. Rael scanned the ceiling, which was difficult due to the flashing red lights, but he found another trace of constant red light leading from an unseen console back to some kind of box hanging above the navigational computer. He recognized it and lifted his rifle.
Not this time you inorganic bastards!
With one quick pull of a trigger, the hub exploded into a shower of sparks, and the red lights ceased to flash. The buzzing stopped and made a draining noise. His breath also drained into an eased state, his lungs grateful that the crisis was averted.
I guess Dyad was smart enough. That hub could've probably acted as a connection node when he's away from his ship. I...I don't think I want to know what trap he would've had in mind if he got back here in time.
Rael pulled his mind away from whatever gruesome overreactive thoughts he could think of and went back to the navigational computer. He looked at his omni-tool for the coordinates he retrieved from Randy's memory core but stopped himself before he could input them. He was going to wherever this place was that the hulking purple geth monster injected into Randy's head. If anything, it was nothing short of dangerous, and going alone would be stupid. A suicide mission possibly.
He looked back at the green display with the Normandy's coordinates.
No doubt Shepard took her with him on his mission. Going to him would most definitely mean running straight into her...Ancestors, please...
He shut his eyes frustratingly. It was either death or family drama, and when that thought crossed his mind, he rolled his eyes at himself. Grudgeful and annoyingly slow, he danced his three fingers across the computer to input the Normandy's coordinates, praying for an easy confrontation when he met up with the hybrid's ship. He hoped the time since he last saw her would allow him to hide underneath his daughter's observant sight. After the short prayer, he went straight to the cockpit, propped the rifle up next to him, and sat in the cold and hard pilot's chair. He flicked a couple of switches as he initiated checks to get the ship ready for liftoff.
Can never forget the checks.
The wings flexed and fire erupted from the back of the ship in the way it was supposed to. It surprised him since it was geth controls, but they were somehow similar to ones of quarian ships. Once he was satisfied and comfortable with piloting, he turned on the ship's engines to lift off and raised it up to the sky. Rael locked in the Normandy's coordinates which caused the ship to turn itself to a point on the horizon. Its energy surged, cruising across the landscape as it warmed up to leave the atmosphere. It also just so happened that the coordinates caused the geth ship to cruise over the quarian city. After he cleared its airspace, he shot off into the stars. He was only visible as a streak of light from the dusty desert ground.
Unbeknownst to Rael, the glass monument building below was on blistering fire. Screams could be heard in its front lot and on the streets. Few quarians lay dead on the pavement, and even a few geth, too. Smoke and ash billowed out of the front doors, showing a large silhouette walking without and dragging the smoke until it escaped, revealing Dyad. He had a small squad of other geth following him, all sharing the same bright red eyes that he had. Dyad only just retrieved the Normandy's coordinates and uploaded it back to his ship. His hellish gaze looked to the sky as that same ship darted above and away from the planet. He knew someone had stolen it, but he couldn't defend it once his connection was severed. It made him...angry.
Logically, he had to kill whoever was on it. He would do so when he found another ship.
But first, he needed to dig a foothold on the planet, so the geth could rise again and finally find a conclusion to the Morning War.
