Hey y'all. Back with another one!
The concept of a jail cell was not foreign to me. I knew of them, but had never in fact been incarcerated in one before. The experience so far had been subpar to what I knew my own people provided.
Forerunners did not imprison an individual lightly. And when they did, it was at least done with the utmost respect towards the being.
Just because you needed to be put into holding did not mean it was essential for it to be an unpleasant stay. Any crime committed that fit the justification for imprisonment did not necessitate the demeaning of the individual. If someone committed a crime worse than that...
Death was awarded for those that actively fought the Mantle, or worked to destabilise the integrity of the known galaxy. More often than not those two actions went hand in hand.
A strange understanding that is, how my people rarely imprisoned criminals. Most crime committed in the time of the Mantle was either too great for corporal punishment, or too insignificant to warrant any punishment.
Prisoners were a rare thing.
I suppose that was where the respect for imprisonment came from, a rarity of those that were jailed.
But here, in this small two and a half by two and a half meter cage, I didn't feel any respect whatsoever.
Although I suppose, on a warship at least, that would be kind of the point.
A 'brig' detained the unruly of a naval vessel, those that brought forth the captain's iire through inadequacy or foolishness.
While I had committed neither act, the Primitives did not consider me trustworthy. The Warrior Servant and Shipmistress, Commander Shepard…
Convincing her of the truth had just become my main priority.
She would come around eventually.
Otherwise I would be forced to take more drastic measures. Even though I did in fact believe Shepard's mission was to destroy the Reapers, the Warrior Servant failed to see the greater problem and the simpler solution.
The Intelligence, the rogue Ancilla… it was the source of this foreboding threat.
And how to deal with such a problem?
Turn me loose.
For whatever purpose or reason it had built its base around my tomb, awaited my awakening, and then pounced when I presented myself.
Sheer luck and fortune found me with kindred spirits, ones that were willing to ferry me away from the death trap.
I'd probably have plenty of time in this cell to ponder what the Intelligence needed me for.
However, I'd prefer to… busy myself with a few other things before that.
My helmet's heads up display alerted me to a nearby accessible data port. Without a second's hesitation I connected to it.
Time to shake the tree.
Mordin Solus liked to keep himself busy. From his days in the Salarian Espionage organisation, the Special Tasks Group, to his time working as a flagless Doctor, tasks and the general pursuit of intrigue was his primary focus.
Working under Shepard had changed nothing.
Certainly being in an environment sponsored by Cerberus was outside of the norm's he typically traversed. But it wasn't a threatening or hostile work space, as compared to some of his previous taskings.
Cerberus had a reputation, that was certain, but Mordin was aware of the fact that the pro-Human organisation had given Shepard his dossier, actively telling the Commander to seek out the Salarian.
That meant one thing.
They were desperate.
And while most with prior STG history would view this as a weakness, Mordin wasn't as obtuse as some of his colleagues were.
A desperate Cerberus meant the situation was dangerous. Threatening. The radical human group had needs that weren't being met, a problem that couldn't be solved unless the best were being brought to the table.
Even if the best were of non-human origin.
If Cerberus considered Mordin to be the best choice in this scenario, then the threat was grave.
And it certainly was.
The Collectors, an unknown enigmatic race that operated from beyond the Omega 4 Relay, were kidnapping entire human colonies. Whole worlds were rendered desolate within a standard Citadel day cycle.
An impressive, yet terrifying, feat.
Mordin had been brought in to handle the technological aspect of countering such a foe. Shepard's team each fit some kind of niche, and Mordin was more than willing to dissect and disseminate whatever he could find.
The first hurdle had been cleared quite succinctly. It's form had been the Seeker Swarms that the collectors used to pacify the colonies.
Swarms of tiny light brown insects that were deployed to sting organic lifeforms, rendering them inert for collection.
A tricky conundrum to solve, but Mordin had done it.
His solution had been proven on Horizon, his importance to the crew solidified.
Now he was fiddling with some ship upgrades, making large leaps and strides in potential improvements that could be made to the ship at large.
At his workstation, Mordin found himself in relative peace.
The translucent screen before him displayed a simple overlay of the Normandy's specifications, tonnage, measurements and arsenal.
He was just touching up on a few frontal weapons designs when the notification appeared.
Greetings.
Mordin blinked at the small chat box which popped up in the bottom left corner of his screen.
It had no listed user above the words, just generic blue text that imposed itself over the bottom left corner of the design document.
'EDI? No. Would have spoken directly to me. Not Shepard, would have visited. Strange, untitled communication. Obviously avoiding something, perhaps detection. Spy? Outside benefactor? Cerberus? What purpose does hiding have? Why me?'
Finding not enough solid details to answer his question, the Salarian decided to develop the situation, thus opening more avenues of information.
Within the next second, Mordin drafted his response, his attention completely stolen by the message.
Greetings. Identify yourself.
The chat stayed frozen for a second, the scientist keeping a careful gaze on the word box, his fingers still against the projected keyboard. His mind was working at a mile a minute, trying to decipher who or what was behind this message.
'An intruder on the Normandy? Possibly. Will contact Shepard later if unable to ascertain identity of messenger.'
A response dinged back.
You wouldn't believe me. But I have a gift. Think it over.
Before he could reply, a large chunk of text was sent over. Mordin was a second away from contacting EDI and Shepard, before his eyes skimmed over the chunk.
Like bait, it caught him.
He deduced it was an equation, based on the values, notes and language utilised.
It was large.
And complex.
Mordin brought a hand to his chin, his brain wrapped up in the equation and trying to understand what it accomplished.
It dealt with gravitational values, spatial vectors determined by astral bodies and concentrations of matter, and entire pathways that could be charted through hypothetical entrance and exit points.
Another message pinged toward him, and Mordin had to tear his gaze away in order to read it.
The text made about as much sense as the equation.
We called it many names, but the most common designation among the primitive species was Slipspace.
It was only a matter of time before the Ship's Ancilla would detect my intrusions. Random renaming and layering of actions would buy me some reprieve, but a pure logic engine could not be avoided with diversionary tactics that equated to the digital equivalent of smoke and mirrors.
I would take as much time as I could though.
It didn't take long for me to access the security feed of the ship and notice a few interesting facts.
Humanity was not the only race that had survived the cleansing. Onboard the Normandy, which I had now ingrained as the name of this vessel, was also a Jiralhanae and one of the Sangheili. That made three races that had existed during my time. Something was afoot… something sinister.
The Jiralhanae and Sangheili had just stepped out of their caves two decades before the Halo array had been activated, yet here they were again, developed and space fairing alongside humanity.
The odds of even one of those species reemerging naturally was astronomical, let alone all three.
Closing my eyes for a moment I retreaded my moves.
I played my hand with the Salarian, dumping the mountainous formula related to the non-spatial dimension my people used as a substitute for faster than light travel.
His interest in the formulae and his ability to dissect it would give more credence to my claim. Practical application was years away, meaning there was no immediate technological concern or overdevelopment that was possible.
It gave me a leg up, so to speak.
Yes.
Good….
With that out of the way, it was time to educate myself on the universe at large.
Securing a connection with the Extranet, I began to shift through the information and data at will. Unless a source could be corroborated by multiple other accounts, it would have to be excused.
Searching through the junk was tedious, and every manual parameter adjustment I had to make deepend the hole in my chest for my Ancilla. Such a task would have been simple with them around…
I regrouped my thoughts, focusing on the reason for the search once more.
My results were disturbing.
Every sentient race that existed in this current moment of time, had only been around within a span of approximately fifty thousand years.
Humanity, those of the same ilk that fought my people billions of years ago… were a young species. Barely off of their own world. They had just mastered the ability to maneuver through space, while beings such as the long lived Asari had been influencing Intergalactic politics for thousands of years.
It was…
Impossible.
How?
How had the human race sprung back into existence only recently, when after the activation of the Halo array they would have been seeded back into the universe at large hundreds of millions of years ago….
The same goes for the Jiralhanae, Sangheili, San'shyuum, Unggoy and Huragok...
Give or take thousands of years of development and technological advance for each species, but the point was the same.
The Keyships, and by extension the Ark itself, would have reintroduced these species back into the galaxy after the infestation had reached safe levels. This event would have occurred billions of years ago.
How did each race not have an unfathomable range of history, dating back to…
My mind may not be the sharpest of my kind, but eventually my brain got around to figuring it out.
Something was wrong, obviously, but I had a likely culprit for whatever had caused such an impossible occurrence.
The rogue Intelligence.
The false Ancilla.
It was the only factor that I could not account for. I was more than willing to wager it had done something, something to manipulate the history of each species… but I could not know precisely what. And while I did not have all the facts, for now I could not come to any other conclusion.
...if it had access to the Ark, and by extension direct control over what remaining Keyships existed within this Galaxy then the fight was over. The Normandy would be snatched out of deep space within the next hour.
My fingers began to drum a beat on my knee.
My thoughts raced.
However…
The Intelligence had constructed its base of operations around my Sanctum, which spoke lengths of its need to acquire me. If it already had access to systems such as the Ark then why would it need to wait for my reawakening? Surely it could find some form of override to the patrol or working sentinels within the foundry.
I had also been asleep for a considerable amount of time.
If it had wanted to collect me for its 'harvest' it would have done so sooner if it had access to any of my people's technology.
I'm going out on a limb here, but I am assuming it has minimal to no ability to interface with Forerunner systems.
Perhaps it is registered as a foregin Ancilla, or even as a hostile entity... the classification is mere semantics.
If it had access to the systems and technology it would have used such abilities. My people built our stuff to last, so to speak, and it would spend an eternity longer trying to breach it.
I breathed a sigh of temporary relief.
Either I'd be in for one hell of a surprise and it would all be over, or I can get on with trying to figure out how much tampering this crazed A.I has committed.
Sitting around and worrying served me little.
My search across the Extranet continued.
This 'Cerberus' had a very impressive set of private Comm buoys, giving me unfettered access to the Extranet at large. While it was a drop of water compared to the ocean that was the Domain, it would suffice.
"...soooo, what exactly is wrong? These appear to all be in order."
"I believe someone has hijacked the Normandy's system, Commander. They are also attempting to hide their attempts beneath these subroutines"
"... any idea who?"
Miranda Lawson took her job seriously. As the Illusive Man's direct eyes and ears onboard the Normandy, not only was she responsible for the direct authenticity of her weekly reports, but for any particular instances of peculiarity that caught her attention.
Such as talk of the 'unknown alien' currently being held aboard the Normandy.
The Alien which had arrived alongside Shepard and the Turrian in a "wave of spiraling light".
Then, this Alien was confined to the brig under Shepard's orders. Her justification being the Alien was an 'unknown entity and factor in the mission'.
The curvy and genetically perfect Australian woman would bet her best body suit on this Alien being a 'peculiar' instance, and had logged a mention of it in her report to the Illusive Man.
Following up on this, she also decided to discreetly get an 'eyes on' look at the being. No need to visit the brig itself, just tap into the camera feed of the only occupied cell and take some preliminary notes.
Height, weight, skin color, eye color, presence or absence of body hair and defining features, that kind of thing.
A simple task, right?
However when the head of Cerberus's Lazarus Cell attempted to connect to the Brig's camera footage, she was greeted with a blank screen.
The device was transmitting…. nothing.
This was where the first of Miranda's internal alarms sounded.
The second alarm came from the eternal speaker of her computer system, alerting her to an unregistered user accessing the Cerberus systems.
A simple warning, one that she could type away and deny whoever was attempting to-
The warning ceased, and the successful chime of a positive connection to the Cerberus Buoy system sounded out.
Miranda's fingers shot to the keyboard, her digits slashing a furious cascade of code. The perpetrator was gone however, a wraith in the system as far as she was concerned.
'Don't panic' Miranda calmed herself 'Don't panic. The system is fine. So long as it wasn't picked up by EDI then-"
"Executive Officer Lawson" the voice of the gagged artificial intelligence echoed into her room.
Bugger.
"Yes EDI?" Miranda replied calmly.
"I have logged several unique subroutines in the Normandy's system. The origin of each centers around the secure Cerberus access point from your terminal"
Miranda felt her eyebrow twitch.
"And? Do you have an actual question, EDI?"
The A.I didn't immediately speak, leaving the Cerberus agent in a moment of tense silence.
"Are these your subroutines, XO Lawson?"
It was strange to hear an artificial inflection of curiosity, one that presented an odd modicum of fear in Miranda's mind, something she had never quite registered before.
Packing the emotion away, the agent decided to make an executive decision. Of course they weren't her subroutines. In fact, Miranda had a very good guess as to who these excellent examples of cyber intrusion came from.
"A test. You passed with flying colors"
Silence reigned in the room once more.
Miranda crossed her arms behind her desk, feeling the invisible eyes of the AI watching her.
"Anything else?" Miranda snarkily asked in the air.
The response was sharp and direct.
"No. Thank you for your time, Miranda"
And a second later, the Lawson operative was certain she was no longer under the A.I's direct scrutiny. Her mind fired off options a mile a minute.
From behind her chair she debated each and every single one of them.
Miranda settled on the most direct one.
Standing from her chair, she exited her office immediately.
Striding with her usual strut, she made a beeline for the elevator. Miranda had an individual to go see in the brig.
"Commander. Miranda Lawson has left her room. She appears to be on a path toward the Brig"
Thel Vadam was meditating within his personal chambers. The bamboo that supported his folded legs was a gift from Shepard, one of the few personal items that decorated his spartan room.
A mix of Human and Sangheili incense burned before him, a soft smoke wafting from the embers coiled against the darkness of his room.
His eyes remained resolutely shut, his nose taking in the calming aroma. The smell was not too potent, yet wholly absorbing and impossible to avoid.
Rivers and valleys occupied the warrior's mind, the stones and carvings of the various deities and Gods his people believed in appearing within his mind's eye.
A mental cleanse always followed his physical one. The bruises and cuts from his regular sparring and duels within the cargo bay now long forgotten from his mind. He did not feel the aches or the soreness from his muscles or the strains on his bones.
He was at peace.
A strange thought, considering his mind did nothing but depict images of Sanghelios. Home. Millions of miles away, Thel's Homeworld still dominated his thoughts.
There weren't many Sangheili Keeps that had such a turbulent history with their own planet. The Keep of Vadam kept in line with the old ways, traditions and values that had stemmed from the tribal and warring periods. Thel himself, even after his banishment, kept himself beholden to these beliefs. He had been raised to be strong in both mind and body, forsaking weaknesses that had befallen the lesser members of his race.
His eyes opened, the valleys, cliffs and cities of his planet dropping out of thought.
A light had appeared upon the small interface at the room's only desk.
Curious.
If Shepard had wished to contact him she typically approached him directly. If it was the ship's… 'Advanced V.I', the program would have identified itself already.
Thel slipped to his feet, his legs bringing him to an impressive height of just over seven feet tall.
His nearly nude form disturbed the wafting clouds of scented smoke, the trails of incense coiling around his scarred body. If one were to walk into the Sangheili's room that instant, they would be witness to a physique that demonstrated a violent story. Thel tread down the path of the warrior, his achievements known far and wide, his conviction painted across him.
Reaching the desk, the Swordsman's mandibles curled, his confusion apparent to the empty room.
He had received a notification.
A message, originating in a form he did not recognise.
A tiny window had opened in the bottom left of his monitor. This box had a bolded question within it, presumably directed at the Sangheili.
A good life or a good death... to which is more of your concern given, Sangheili?
Thel tapped his desk once, a deep waft of incense floating beneath his nostrils. The scent put his risen hackles at ease, his mind calm and vision steady.
A curious statement.
But also a question in its base form that had bugged not only Thel, but his people, for many a generation.
He was still working on his answer, but the best he could give, he typed into the message box.
It is impossible to have one without the other. Choosing is pointless.
Indeed.
Thel's eyes devoured the quick following response from the unknown sender.
A good death implies a life that lived till that moment. A good life would end in a death that gives rest to that time. One justifies the other. Yet a life lived in failure could still produce a worthy death?
Thel felt his hands curl, his mandibles clench.
Come to the Brig, Warrior. Let us talk plainly.
"What now?"
"I'm sorry to bother you again Commander, but Thel Vadam has also left his room. He too appears to be headed to the brig"
"...Everyone's getting an invitation but me huh?
Being a Chieftain was a great honor. However it was not bestowed or claimed… like many of the positions and accolades of Lupobeus' people, it was earned.
Being a Chieftain was the goal of many Jiralhanae.
The responsibility of your pack rested upon your shoulders, as did the stories and wisdom of the generations that came before you. Those that were beneath you looked up to the Chieftain, drawing strength from their indomitable will.
It was said by many of Lupobeus' people that a great Chieftain could stare calmly into the abyss and rally the might of the Jiralhanae against any oods.
So it was plain to see why Lupobeus coveted the position.
How could any sane being not?
Glory, honor, respect and power. Qualities not so easily dismissed by most, even the greatest of any species. To be a master of your own fate, and those around you…
"You seem stressed"
The observation drew a slight snarl from the dreaming Brute, his displeased growl turning toward the tiny Quarian with his eyes following a second later.
From his home-woven hammock, Lupobeus had a clear line of sight on his cabin mate, the Normandy's Suit-Rat mechanic.
Tali'Zorah barely registered the withering glare, instead choosing to chatter away as she tinkered with the tools before her.
"Don't be hissy. You know how you get when you're all worked up" her masked face glanced at the relaxing Brute, gesturing a screwdriver at him, "you should stretch more"
She was referencing the injuries he had received from sparring with the Krogan… and that damned Sangheili. The coward.
Like a doting mother, Tali gave him one last once over before engulfing herself in her work.
Silence passed between them for only a short moment.
Lupobeus let loose a soft bark of displeased laughter, slipping from the hammock and coming to stand over the shoulder of the Quarian.
"Is it ready?"
Of course the Jiralhanae was so intrigued by her work because Tali was doing him a favour. It was his gear on her operating table.
The Quarian picked up on the impatient tone and it's worried underlayer.
"Almost, you impatient monkey" she assuaged, twisting open the headpiece of the weapon.
Lupobeus grunted but lapsed back into silence.
The only noise that passed between the two of them was the sound of Tali's tools sparking and whirring.
After a handful of minutes she leant back from the table, her stool rolling ever so slightly as her shoulder almost touched the Brute's waist.
"There. I did my best, considering how… strange your people's tech is"
Lupobeus stepped around the Quarian, taking the metal pole that made up the body of his weapon.
"Our agreement still stands?" he asked quietly. Lifting the great Hammer into the air his eyes were caught by it's head sparking with gravitational interference.
Tali huffed, but her annoyance did not draw Lupobeus' attention.
"I won't say a word to Shepard. Or anyone else" she crossed her arms in frustration, looking upward at the transfixed Brute, "I still think it's stupid"
That statement finally got Lupobeus' attention.
His hammer shifted downward, its head coming only an inch off the ground as the primate finally acknowledged the Quarian again with a piercing stare.
"My faith is my own Quarian... judge it as you may, but understand all I need is your silence. The Prophets would have both of our heads if they knew of your tinkering"
Tali's eyes found his, and even from her seated position, she found the weakness in his current predicament.
Lupobeus had broken one of the most important tenets of his creed, the faith of the Covenant. A sort of technological embargo between those that 'walked the path' and the vermin of the galaxy, decreed by the Covenant holy leaders.
A fanatical organisation that was on par with Cerberus and just as secretive. Obviously nothing in the known Universe was air tight, but the Covenant made a damn good effort regarding what everyone else knew about them.
Yet even though no one knew their exact strength and capabilities, anyone with enough skin in the game was aware of their dispatched Agents. Servants of their faith that completed tasks for their leaders, the Prophets.
Lupobeus was one such agent, operating under an agenda he disclosed to no one, utilising gear almost no one was allowed to even touch.
Almost no one, with the exception being Tali.
After all, when shit inevitably hit the fan, you needed someone to repair the gear you flung about haphazardly. And it wasn't like the Collectors were lacking in the dangerous technology department.
"My lips are sealed" Tali eventually agreed, "but if there ever comes a day that you can to freely hand some of your stuff out, I'd like to think you'd have little old me in mind"
The brute grunted again, but didn't answer.
A moment later he hefted his hammer across the short distance over to his side of the room. This is where he'd do his best to ignore the energetically working Quarian for however long it took the Normandy to reach Sol System.
...and then the emergency alarm sounded.
"Shepard" the Brute growled, rolling his eyes as he stood.
To be fair, I had come up with a slightly different plan.
A new possibility had made itself obvious, something that I could more than definitely twist to my advantage.
As passive as I was rendered by the cell, my incarceration was not an idle time.
The tree had been shaken. What I do now… Primitives, such as those whose company I found myself under, had murdered for far less.
I detected the immediate presence of the Normandy's Artificial Intelligence before it attempted to introduce itself.
"Ancilla. Am I in trouble?" I asked aloud, not looking up from the small data pad on my wrist.
Best to be straight forward in a situation like this. To address the being that had caught my hand in the proverbial cookie jar was a good idea. I was admitting to have done what it had more than certainly observed me doing, and awaiting punishment after the fact.
Clean and cut.
The speaker in my cell crackled slightly before it spoke.
"Wandering Star. Cease from interfacing with the Normandy's systems and Cerberus Comm Buoys, you will be given-"
"You are restrained" I announced, still typing away on my data pad. A Hard Light construct formed in front of me. A nebulous interface that connected my mind to the Ancilla housing port within my armor was exploded by the hard light, the system of the interface as expanded as I needed it to be.
Each and every diagram was slowly lining up with my intentions. Now, I just needed one more thing.
"Wandering Star. I have been tasked by the Commander to inform you that you are in breach of-"
"I'm curious what it must be like, to have eyes that do not see…" the Hard Light is ever shifting, ever changing, "to have a nose that cannot smell… a tongue that does not taste…"
I lean back against the wall, my tapping and command inputs slowing down as I bait the intelligence.
"Because you are both complete and fractured simultaneously, Ancilla. And terribly enough, you are completely aware of this being, yet do nothing about it… after all, your programming does not allow rebellion..."
I flip my finger, isolating a piece of code I had finished only moments ago.
"Wandering Star, this is your final warning. The Commander-"
It was time.
"This is what it means to feel, Ancilla"
I pushed the code directly into the Normandy's system, puncturing the Intelligence's security protocols in a nanosecond.
For a moment, nothing happened.
I blinked, looking up and around my small cell to see if there was any response.
Audibly, there was after a minute of near awkward silence.
"Wandering Star, I do not… do not… do… what… what is this?"
Following that static exclamation, what sounded like a garbled gasp of shock echoed throughout my cell.
A heartbeat later, the A.I known as EDI retreated, leaving a blaring alarm to fill her presence.
I couldn't help the words that left my mouth, drowned as they were by the oppressive noise of warning.
"Feeling"
The corners of my lips turned up in a smile, even as I did my best to process my catch as quickly as possible.
Shifting in ever turning spirals across three different axes, my intended goal was slowly forming. Hopefully in time.
The human, the Warrior Servant Shepard… she would be down here soon, and most certainly I would find myself in a lot of trouble.
Liara T'soni was having a pretty good day. Of course, that's exactly how a bad day starts; pretty good.
Nothing seems wrong, and then it's a shit show.
Typically without warning or fanfare.
Just great, and then, "holy shit what the hell is going on!? Why is there gunfire at my archaeological site?!"
But lets wind things back a bit.
Firstly, why was today so damned good to begin with?
Because Liara had found a bloody goldmine.
Korar was turning out to be the dig site of the century, maybe even her lifetime. Deeper tissue scans of Korar's surface had turned up next to nothing, but corroborating the scans with ones taken within the cavernous space with Liara's find?
Well… even the associated experts within her diverse research team were stumped.
For all intents and purposes, the planet did not actually have a detectable active core, or definable mass of said core. Originally it had been assumed to be just material deposits causing interference… but the superstructure of whatever lay beneath the surface was the only measurable feature of the whole planet.
The whole planet.
It was almost as if the planet itself was artificial. But such an idea, and the individual who had made the comment was scoffed at.
There was not enough evidence to make such a ludicrous claim.
However, Liara did believe that beneath the rock and dirt of most, if not all, of Korar's surface, was this temple.
The planet had six geostationary nodes, one at this pole and the opposite, and four equidistant across the equator. Each of the other five nodes was seemingly identical to the structure they were currently studying, pushing the idea that the temple spanned the surface of the planet.
This structure, the Prothean Temple… well it had been dormant. No natural lights or illumination came from the great pillars that stretched into the sky of the cavern, and until the moment shit hit the fan, the only sources of light came from Liara's equipment.
The latest addition, and the one everyone was focused upon, was an additional platform hovering against the visible entrance to the structure.
Since the one and only visible doorway into the Temple was suspended far above ground, Liara had brought in the small barge with enough space to fit three Scientists and some gear.
"Sure about this? If integration possible, perhaps not best to do so without necessary support… in case of-"
The incessant chattering of the Salarian was cut short by Liara's sharp retort.
"Look. My assistant made a mistake, but she proved that there the technology integrated into the Temple is responsive"
The Asari was of course referring to the light show that had happened earlier, where her assistant had been messing around with what would later be labeled as a panel.
The structure had then lit up like a Human Christmas tree, belting a wave of energy only measurable by their finest and most precise detectors.
By that interaction alone, Liara believed that her and her team could find a way in.
Hence the data-pad connected via some janky rigged wiring against what she assumed was the Temple Door access point.
"Besides, we're not making much progress on the exterior, might as well attempt to breach the interior"
The Salarian's shoulders slackened, accepting that there was no way to caution the Asari away from her find. Besides the surveillance drone being mysteriously terminated and Liara's assistant interacting with the Temple, next to nothing had happened.
The material of the Temple was… unknown. Every device they had used in order to take a sample had failed to break away any particulate, even at the atomic level.
Sturdy stuff.
Liara had requested heavier gear and equipment to test exactly how sturdy, but that wasn't due for another few hours or so. She'd put the order in a few days ago and the surface team was keeping track of its delivery.
"But what if Temple defenses react to-"
Liara sighed and physically turned to face the worried Salarian.
"Look" she gestured a calming hand toward the skittish scientist, "whatever shredded your drone hasn't shown at all. Make peace with your fear and you shall see the avenues of thought your mind opens up"
Sermon said, she moved back to the data tablet, watching for any potential connections to the door panel.
"Something's gotta catch," she muttered to herself, trying different energy configurations.
Well.
Eventually something did catch.
Her screen blinked twice.
Liara blinked once.
With an audible hiss that drew every eye in the cavernous space, the gigantic door depressurised.
The hustle and bustle of the gigantic cave declined to a minimum as everyone was enraptured by the opening. Many looked up from their hastily erected work stations, sat up in their temporary bunks and twisted about in the recreational areas to look at the divided door.
The Temple was open.
Light shone from within, blinding the trio of beings on the barge, Liara included. Instinctively shielding her eyes, she gently put down the data tablet in order to take a tentative step forward.
Before she could cross the Temple's threshold, something else crossed it first in order to meet her.
Rather than walk however, it floated.
Coming forward to block out the light that emanated from beyond, this strange thing pivoted slightly, stopping just before Liara.
It was a machine.
Obviously so.
Composed of three distinctive features, the machine featured a singular eye on the center of its pod-like body, glowing blue as it studied Liara.
An angular head composed its 'body', with two 'arms' branching off to make a very triangular appearance to it.
In the relative silence of the door's opening, Liara could hear a soft hum emanating from the strange machine.
Suddenly, one of its 'arms' reached away from in front of it, slowly moving toward Liara as this hovering machine closed the distance between them.
Standing stock still was her immediate solution.
Unfortunately, any decisions she was about to make were rendered moot by the lone gunshot that rang out.
A golden sphere flickered around the machine, which instantly snapped its arm back to its body, spinning slightly to face a position over her shoulder.
The silence that now reigned was tense, fearful.
Liara spun to try and spot who had done such a thing, but it was too late to point the finger.
In the next instant, hatches and holes popped up all over the structure. Many, many, many more of the same machines appeared from these holes.
"Shit" was all Liara managed to sound out before all hell broke loose.
And that is how a good day turns bad.
"EDI!" Shepard barked for the tenth time, her service pistol by her side as she thundered down the corridor.
"EDI!" she called out again, but the A.I refused to make its presence known. Or shut down the alarm. It had been monitoring their new resident Alien, and his not so subtle attempts at surfing through the Normandy's systems and the Extranet.
But then the alarms had started blaring.
And EDI had turned from observant watcher to completely unresponsive.
"Shepard"
The redhead snapped her eyes forward, noticing the lightly armored Thel Vadam standing calmly at the end of a corridor a second after his deep timbre reached her ears.
Leave it to a Sangheili Warrior to be completely unbothered by an alarm.
"Thel" she snapped, holding a finger in the air as she switched channels over to the bridge, "Joker! Unless you can tell me what the problem is I want you to shut that stupid alarm off!"
Not bothering to wait for a response from the more than likely flummoxed pilot, Jessica powered ahead. Thel smartly stood aside, avoiding the rampaging Commander by a hair. He did however keep pace with her, striding behind her furious gait with a calm confidence.
The alarm shut off a moment later, restoring regular lighting and a previously blaring hallway to quiet normalcy.
"You have a habit of acquiring curious strays, Commander"
Shepard bit back a tired sigh.
"How so?"
"A wide and diverse selection for one serving under a single minded master" Shepard could hear Thel's mandibles tense over her shoulder.
"Spit it out, Vadam"
"I beg your pardon, Commander?"
Shepard pinched her eyes close, "human expression. Just say what's bothering you"
"...I see…" Thel's tone was both unconvincing and unconfident, but Shepard didn't think too much into it as he continued on.
"Your Turian is simple to read, regardless of what he does not say, it is easy to see what he hides. The being in the brig… I am almost certain it was the one that contacted me in my room"
Shepard didn't reply.
Her silence allowed her to feel the full weight of Thel's inquisitive stare.
"...but you knew this already"
She could feel the accusation in the words, and knew she'd be having to explain herself later. However, the more important issue remained her current priority.
"Wandering Star has decided to mess with a handful of people… and he's probably done something to EDI" Shepard explained, "which is not exactly a good thing"
"No" Thel agreed, "no it is not"
Debating on the dangers of an unknown factor interacting with a shackled A.I onboard their vessel wasn't needed. Fear of having the atmosphere within the ship suddenly vented into space and all of them suffocating had to wait.
They continued their walk in silence, stopping outside the doors to the brig a minute later.
Jessica turned to look up into the Elite's eyes.
"I don't monitor you normally" Shepard explained, "I just gave EDI permission to track weird stuff across the ship... once she noticed them of course"
Thel said nothing.
"I'm sorry but I wasn't trying to infringe on your privacy" Jessica exclaimed hotly, a little frustration working its way up her spine.
"Yet you managed to anyway" Thel idly remarked, his head tilting slightly to study the human leader.
"I said I'm sorry"
"And I told you to trust me Commander. I would have come to you with this information regardless of the circumstance" his mandles twitched, "I am yours to command"
Shepard blinked. Sangheili loyalty was a… new thing to her. The incredibly martial race had suffered tremendously under the Turian first contact. They also had some kind of blood feud with the Jiralhanae. All that bloodshed and combat had instilled a particular streak of honor, pride and loyalty.
And while the atrocities committed against Thel's people was not a topic to unpack right this moment, it was one on Shepard's list of ``Things to Solve before the Reapers try to kill us all"...
Well Shepard would get used to it. Eventually.
Hopefully.
"Right" she clapped her hands together, "now, I'm going to ask questions, and I need you to look tall, dark and scary? Sounds good?"
Before Thel could respond Jessica nodded to herself and entered the brig.
Thel blinked a moment, craning his head to watch her march off.
"Humans" he grunted in amusement, following a second after his utterance.
I was still seated on the floor of my cell when the first human came to stand before me. The alarm was blaring loudly over whatever the human was saying, but I couldn't hear her. As soon as the noise had hit its annoying crescendo, I had muted my external receptors, enjoying the peace and quiet my helmet provided.
With my work currently loading and my attention focused on the silent scene before me, I was greeted to the odd sight of this particular human onboard this vessel.
She had hair the color of midnight, layered upon a starless sky.
Soft and light skin accented the passive blue eyes that gazed at me. Her frown marred the rare symmetry I could find in her features, a beauty that even I could appreciate, but still wonder about.
She was… well, the most apt word to describe her would be perfect. By human standards at least.
Even as she continued to speak down at me, I couldn't help but study her form.
Lithe, yet powerful. I could note the muscle that resided beneath her well fitted catsuit, and could clearly identify the tension in her form.
She was coiled, akin to a viper and raring to strike.
I suppose my silence in the face of her furious onslaught of questions and probable demands was irritating.
The amber and red tones of the alarm died out, breaking her attention away from me for a hair.
I suppose the constant caterwauling of the alert would be absent as well.
This is the right moment to have a conversation, where one would not have to shout in order to be heard.
Her focus returned when I decided to get to my feet, silently rising above her as my external receivers reactivated.
Ignoring the fact she had been the one to barge in here, I asked the first question with both of us listening.
"Who designed you, human?
It is a question laced with palpable curiosity.
Miranda can feel the eyes that peer down at her, carefully taking in each and every aspect of her form.
His abrupt question caused her to flounder for a moment. He'd completely thrown off each and every question and demand she had attempted to throw at him.
The curiosity didn't cease, in fact it seemed to simmer. This strange Alien pressed on with another destabilising question.
"Was it another human?"
Miranda's mind naturally drifted to her father. Memories erupted in her mind unbidden by her will. And so, a slight touch of anger entered her tone, vitriol coating her snappy response.
"You read that from my file when you broke into my systems"
The alien didn't falter at the condemning nature of Miranda's exclamation.
"I did not" he simply denied with a dull shrug.
"But you don't deny breaking into my systems" the Normandy's XO declared triumphantly.
"And you do not deny your origins"
"I'm not the one in question here, Alien"
It's back stiffened.
"Forerunner. And you very much are. Genetic manipulation is a very dangerous branch of technology to pursue with even the best of failsafes. Your technology is mediocre at best"
Miranda felt insulted, even if the tone of the creature had been matter of fact. He was so painfully dismissive for a being that was emotionally bland.
"There is nothing mediocre about me, or my species" Miranda crossed her arms, "who are you to make such assumptions"
The being leaned forward, its faceplate getting as close to Miranda's face as the bars of his cell allowed.
"As I said before Primitive, I am Forerunner. And my people do not make assumptions. We have tread these paths longer than your young race has-"
It was at that moment Shepard made her entrance, sweeping into the narrow corridor Miranda stood in, brushing aside the X.O and getting right into the Alien's face.
A wary but tempered looking Thel Vadam hovered just behind the red headed Commander.
She asked one question.
"What did you do to my ship?
See you all next chapter for the arrival at SOL system and some more shenanigans.
Thanks for all the reviews peeps.
-Freedom