It was late into the shipboard 'night' before Jorge finished reading. He stood, massaging the crick in his neck, moving just for the sake of moving after so long bent over his omni. Even a Spartan could only read so fast, and he wasn't one of the faster readers. Or one of the ones who absorbed everything they read; he learned best with his hands, by doing, not reading. Still, he had absorbed as much as he could.
He headed for the door, organizing his thoughts. The crew dossiers didn't provide much information personally, but did confirm that most of the crew was ex-Alliance. Traitors, in his mind. Abandoning the unified human military to join an extremist terrorist group. To his anger and, grudgingly, to Cerberus' credit, they were all skilled in their fields of choice; sensor operators with masters degrees or doctorates in their fields of study, technicians with years of experience on their systems, engineers highly rated in their field. Jacob had stated that the Illusive Man wanted the best; he certainly seemed to have gotten close with the general crew of the ship.
The ground team was similar, only this time, it appeared that the Illusive Man was looking beyond humanity and across species lines, as evidenced by the presence of two aliens already. Garrus, or Archangel as the dossier called him, made quite a good showing. He had always been good with a rifle, but it appeared he had taken things to the next level by declaring an unofficial war on crime on the pit of lawlessness that was Omega. His list of accomplishments read more like a who's who of the drug and slave underworld in the Terminus systems. Jorge was seriously impressed with just how big a splash Garrus seemed to have made, hell, he'd even gotten a nickname coined for him. As a Demon himself, Jorge knew the kind of effort it took to get that level of recognition from a foe. Garrus truly had stepped it up.
As for the other non-human member of the ground team so far…
He rounded the corner into the mess area to a jaunty tune and an orange skinned salarian doctor. The alien appeared to be cooking something, at a pace that to Jorge seemed maniac; he didn't seem like he was able to hold still for more than half a second, constantly turning, pivoting, rummaging, chopping, the tune interrupted frequently with cheerful mutterings. A pot simmered, stirred occasionally, as ingredients were thrown in.
"Hum-humHUM hmmmmm hmm- chop green onions, three suffient, any more and overpower palette-" CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK- "- hmmmmm hmmmmmmm hm-humHUMhum- add to soup, add salt, salt, where salt, there salt-"
Doctor Mordin Solus. His list of accomplishments, abbreviated, had filled half a page, and listing just the most influential of his academic papers had filled the other half. A man with so many letters after his name they made a sentence all their own when put down in full. Medical professional, top of the field geneticist, statistician, respected chemist, respected biologist, professor emeritus at one of the most prestigious salarian universities…. Former Salarian Tasks Group operative with small arms training, missing a horn due to a fight with a krogan. A salarian not to be underestimated, on or off the battlefield.
Deciding not to bother the good doctor as he rummaged around looking for the salt, Jorge sneaked close to the counter looking for a nutrient paste tube. Something quick, easy, and filling, Shepard had informed him he was going on the Korlus mission in ten hours to recruit "The Warlord", so something quick before going to sleep would suit him just fine.
He hadn't even opened the cupboard yet when he was stopped.
"Plenty of relus soup, no need for nutrient tube," Solus told him, turning to address him for the first time since he had entered.
It was a fairly big pot. Jorge weighed his options.
"How long until it's ready?" he asked.
"Simmer for five minutes," Mordin replied. "Not traditional relus soup, traditional ingredients not on ship, substituted human ingredients. Should be interesting. Should be palatable to humans."
Jorge couldn't say he was the biggest fan of alien food. But this was alien food made with human ingredients. It had to be similar to something humanity already made as food. And if it wasn't good, well, he'd eaten worse. Besides, it would give him a little time to meet the good doctor.
"Suppose I'll wait. Though, why cook it now?" Jorge asked.
Mordin, for the first time, leaned against the countertop and relaxed, not working, not moving. His speech however was as clipped and quick as always.
"Creativity break," he replied. "Work on Collector samples important but slow. Highly secretive race, little data exists, many false paths while attempting to replicate and counter. Important to step back, focus on other pursuits, allow subconscious to assimilate data, return with fresh ideas."
"And you went with cooking?"
"Was hungry. Have used other diversions prior. Will use others in future," Solus shrugged. "While soup finishes, new diversion presents itself. Fascinating being able to talk to sapient from alternate universe."
To Jorge's annoyance, his own bio did a good job summarizing his full background, as an enhanced supersoldier from another universe, including a good list of some of the medals he had won, and of course, his work on the first Normandy with Shepard. It was natural that others would be intrigued by that. Of course, just because that information had been provided by Cerberus didn't mean that he still didn't have a duty to protect it.
"Can't say I'll be able to answer much, Doctor," he replied.
"Of course. Soldier, not scientist, everything scientific already in Alliance report. Still, appreciate answers you can give. Do you think human music in this universe is diverging significantly due to alien influences?"
Jorge blinked.
"Uh... "
His mind raced at the unexpected question. As the salarian waited, he finally found a gear.
"Hmm… well, I suppose the classical forms of human music haven't changed, at least that I've noticed. Rock and roll seems to be pretty faithful to the flip music I am used to, and I haven't really noticed any difference in the jazz I have in my personal files against the jazz we have here, at least the human jazz. And I've never really payed attention to much else, sorry."
Solus gained a hungry expression. "Report did not have music files attached. Possible to get copy from personal files for analysis?"
"Report, what report?"
"Alliance report on extra dimensional origins. Dictated by yourself. Contained much scientific, combat intelligence, very little cultural, art, history. Not full picture. Very interested in obtaining opinion on more than subjects in report."
"That report is classified… how..." Jorge said weakly, a feeling of dread materializing in his stomach. He highly doubted that Cerberus would provide an alien with such access when it wasn't relevant to the mission…
"STG acquired report few months after Saren's death. As premier Salarian geneticist and biologist was asked to examine augmentations, determine suitability for Salarians and dangers of augmentations among other species. Managed to convince superiors to grant access to full report. Absolutely fascinating, parallel universe, parallel human development, alternate methods of FTL-"
"But, how did you get the report?" Jorge asked, still a bit dumbfounded. Two years ago that report had been classified so high you would suffocate from the altitude. It was a bit less classified these days, as one necessitated in order to dole out and make progress on the information contained within but at that point it should still have been within only a small cadre of individuals.
"Don't know exact method, never told. Surmise it was electronically, Salarian would stand out as spy in Alliance headquarters. Commercially available technology easily exploited, Alliance are new to technology, STG likely knows how to compromise. To be commended for keeping it secret for so long, STG very good at job, Alliance Intelligence countermeasures very good to keep information secret for so long against superior intelligence apparatus. Possible to get copy of personal music files?"
"Uh… sure…" Jorge was utterly discombobulated in this conversation. His mind kicked into a higher gear; clearly he was going to need it.
"Sure, I can get you some of my music files," he said. What else…
"I have a small collection of photos, mostly helmet cam captures, that might give you an idea of human art and culture. Most of the history I learned was already in the report, but I could see what was left out and fill in some of the gaps. I can answer social and society questions too, though I'm not sure where I'd begin on that front. I'm curious though, what your conclusions were regarding augmentations. Do you think we will see, for example, augmented krogan in the future?"
It was unlikely he would get a full answer here, but Jorge was genuinely curious as to what the Doctor thought. And if he would share any of it, given that his conclusions were likely classified as a secret by the Salarians.
"Augmented krogan unlikely" the Professor dismissed with a wave of his three fingered hand. "Natural evolution provided near maximal natural utilization of muscle, no further improvement without severe damage to musculature, skeleton, other tissue. Bone enhancements possible but not in Spartan method, coating bones cause krogan immune system to attack own skeleton, fatal, also would retard or prevent natural regenerative capabilities. Augmentation of nervous system with neuroconductive fibers extremely costly and time consuming, dual nervous system, likely also trigger immune system, additionally cause signal conflict with tertiary neuroconductive fluid system, likely result is uncontrollable muscle spasms, synaptic collapse, death. Sight augmentation possible but misplaced, low light vision already superior to humans, binocular vision field very limited, minimal increase to vision capability. Augmentations in method of Spartan program would not be effective or efficient."
"So, nature already evolved them to such a high degree that augmentations in the Spartan style would inhibit them. Interesting," Jorge mused. "We've already seen human potential of the Spartan procedure, in myself. What were your conclusions on the other races?"
"Asari gain most advantage with nervous system enhancements. Possibly revolutionary for biotics, superconducting nerve system presents major enhancement to electrical capabilities for biotic amplification. Bone ossification possible, may allow greater gravatic fields to be employed for biotics, unproven, but likely severely reduce lifespan, interfere with natural regenerative process allowing longevity. Musculature enhancement and growth implant possible but not recommended, high caloric requirement for biotics amplified by increased size, muscle need, presents real possibility that asari physically could not intake sufficient calories to support body, starve in under one standard week. Vision enhancement possible and effective with risk of blindness, no major increase in capability.
"Turians gain most with growth implant, would need dextro equivalent but effect same, size increase proportionally increases potential strength due to inflexible metallic exoskeleton, necessary for greatest gains with musculature. Muscle enhancements still less effective than on humans, density increases but hypertrophy limited due to metallic exoskeleton biology, gains still significant. Bone ossification and neuroconductive replacement highly effective, neuroconductive replacement likely surpass augmented human neural signal conduction and reflexes. Vision enhancement hugely effective, vision gains to turian eyes likely surpass all other species. Overall excellent candidates, would be faster but not as strong compared to similarly enhanced human.
"Salarians tricky. Growth implant impractical, gains insufficient as large increase in size overstress heart, major health effects. Muscle enhancement possible but fractional gain only, salarian musculature and skeleton simply not evolved for strength. Would absolutely require bone ossification to achieve any notable strength performance increase. Neuroconductive replacement most beneficial, not for-"
A ding went off on Solus' omni tool, which he dismissed without even breaking the stream of words coming out of his mouth.
"-reflex effects but for cognitive effects, salarian biology already naturally maximized for-"
He didn't even stop talking as he turned away from Jorge, turned the electric induction to minimum, and fished a ladle out from somewhere. A set of bowls Jorge hadn't seen him get out were already waiting to be filled.
"-cognitive performance, predicted gains to thought processing, intelligence, cognitive abilities surpass all other races by minimum factor of two-"
Ladling was quick and precise. Once done the doctor set the ladle down and left the pot to remain warm on the stove. Jorge accepted own bowl, complete with a spoon already in it, and followed the Professor over to the table. He stood, knowing that nothing at the table could take his weight. Solus did not stop talking once.
"-estimated final capability rivals supercomputer if properly trained. Vision enhancements possible, equivalent effect to humans predicted. Batarians unremarkable, simian ancestry similar to humans, would gain identical benefits to augmented human."
His analysis apparently complete, Solus smelled the soup once, then raised the spoon slowly to his mouth, savoring and judging the first bite of food. For his part, Jorge admitted it smelled rather good. It seemed much like a hearty vegetable soup to him. He too took a first bite, and was happy himself with the taste. This would not be a tasteless meal to dully eat or barely keep down.
Professor Solus appeared to come to the same conclusion.
"Flavor significantly different than traditional relus soup, expected, ingredients incorrect. Still, enjoyable," he muttered at a quick pace. His taste and judgement apparently done, he began to inhale the soup like a starving man.
Jorge took a few more bites, allowing his thoughts to settle. The Professor had surprisingly offered his analysis with little prodding. Surely he couldn't be so naive as to spill his entire classified analysis just to show how smart he was, right? Still, he was quite willing to talk science. Though, his analysis wasn't complete yet…
"So we've got big, strong, fast, tough humans and batarians; big, faster and not as strong, tough turians; super-biotic asari; and hyper intelligent salarians," Jorge summarized around spoonfuls of soup. "What about quarians? Elcor? Hanar, drell, volus, vorcha?"
The spoon stopped halfway to the Professor's mouth for a noticeable moment. Then he began to vocalize around his food as he continued to inhale it.
"Quarians, biology most similar to turians, but no exoskeleton, no limits to hypertrophy, muscle enhancements. Unsure of biological limits. Most likely result similar to humans, need more in-depth review to determine biological limits. Most likely restriction, immune system deficiency, significantly increase infection rate after augmentations, higher casualty rate of already high fallout procedures. Elcor likely become immensely strong, results of growth and musculature likely too much for skeleton to handle, no, bone ossification could fix, no, possibly too strong even for enhanced bones, need to run numbers. Speed increase highly unlikely to actually increase elcor speed. Hanar, augmentations not applicable. Drell, most likely human result, need more study for specific effects. Volus, natural limitations as methane breathers restricts potential, but likely result stronger, faster, tougher volus. Still volus. Vorcha, similar problems to krogran, natural body unlikely to take to augmentations, rejection probable, short life span makes augmentation impractical, not cost effective. Hm. Good thought exercise. May have to run numbers later. Excellent diversion. Time to return to work on Collector samples."
Even with his near breathless train of thought, the Professor finished his soup in record time, and stood at the end of his analysis to bus his dishes. Jorge, not quite done with his yet, stayed where he was a the table as the salarian walked away, but asked a question before the Professor was gone completely.
"I'm surprised you were that forthcoming with all that, Professor. Why?"
Solus shrugged. "Very similar to analysis already performed by Alliance. Also, not secret to any person with understanding of physiology and basic understanding of augmentations. Full report classified, significantly more in depth, but basic analysis capable by anyone."
With that, the Professor headed towards the elevator, just as Jorge finished his bowl. With that, there was just one more thing to say.
"Good meal, Professor," he complimented, going for a second round.
-[]-
Korlus. "A garbage scow with a climate" was how one Citadel Councillor had described it. The largest industry by far was recycling ships; as a result, it quite literally was a dump, an intergalactic graveyard for all makes and models of interstellar or interplanetary ship. Some, those that could, that hadn't decayed far enough yet, orbited in graveyard orbits around the planets. The vast majority though dotted huge swaths of the surface of the world itself, their steel skeletons beached upon the ground, where workers could more easily gain access to vital components for salvage and use heavy industry to break apart larger pieces and toxic chemicals to reclaim valuable metals and other compounds.
Some operations were no doubt legitimately good, clean, well run, and likely made a very tidy profit selling spare parts and reclaimed materials. The one that Shepard, Jorge, Jacob, and Garrus were headed to via the Normandy shuttle, was not one of those operations. This particular area was a Blue Suns mercenary encampment and training ground, operating behind the veneer of a salvage corporation. So long as the Suns paid the proper fees and bribes, and kept to their agreed upon patch of ground, the local and planetary governments did not care what they were doing there.
What Dr. Okeer, the krogan warlord, was doing here, no one knew.
Given the lack of information in the dossier on whether or not Okeer was there voluntarily, and the general lack of cooperation by the Blue Suns where anyone who wasn't paying for their services was concerned, Shepard had elected to go in hot. The shuttle pilot flew them in low and fast, through the hollowed out wrecks of some mega-freighters, before hot-dropping them a few kilometers out from the identified command area, where Okeer was most likely to be. All were quick to scramble behind afforded cover, weapons out, alert.
They were greeted not by a hail of bullets but by a voice over a loudspeaker.
"There is only one measure of success: kill or be killed! Perfection is your goal," the loudspeaker blared.
"The hell kind of training compound is this," Jorge muttered aloud, his machine gun at the ready.
"Doesn't matter," Shepard replied. "Stay focused. We're here for Okeer."
The place was a damn mess. Crates were haphazardly strewn about, metal plates buried in mud and dirt forming the floor on which they tread. They moved up silently and efficiently, Shepard and Jacob in the lead, Jorge just behind them, and Garrus hanging back with his rifle out to provide overwatch. They rounded a bend just as the loudspeakers flared back to life.
"Being hired is merely the beginning. You must earn your place in the mighty army we are building!"
Whoever this was, they were crazy. Jorge ignored them and continued forward.
The team moved up a set of metallic stairs breaking the mud and dirt before Shepard called for a halt just before a corner. Garrus trotted up, peaked around the corner quickly.
"Observation post. And ready for a fight it looks like," he reported quickly.
"Garrus, you stay here with your rifle. They shoot, we shoot back," Shepard ordered. A quick gesture and Jorge and Jacob fell in behind her, weapons held ready but not threatening.
They didn't even hear a verbal warning before mass accelerator fire peppered them. Jacob covered himself in a biotic barrier, Jorge fired from the hip at one of the three Blue Suns on his side, and Shepard… suddenly wasn't there anymore.
Jorge hadn't really been looking, so he didn't see anything more than a blue biotic flare, a streak of blue, and then there was a distinct Shepard-shaped absence from the team. She was, quite suddenly, up on the slightly raised platform of the observation post, her shotgun firing at a mercenary that looked to have been blasted backwards, point blank.
Biotic charge. He'd read about it, but damn, it was something else to see it in person.
The Blue Suns merc she had targeted didn't stand a chance. Neither did the one that dumbly stood out in the open when he turned his new machine gun on the man. The final merc developed a sudden hole in his helmet and slumped bonelessly to the ground.
Done in under five seconds. Felt good to be back working with Shepard and Garrus, working together like a well oiled machine.
"Good to have you at my side again, Jorge," Shepard said.
"What, no love for me?" Garrus said as he jogged up. Shepard just rolled her eyes.
"Good to have you covering my six again, Garrus," she said good naturedly as Jacob joined them on the observation platform. "Now, let's see if we can get some intel…"
A merc, heavily wounded, was just down beyond the observation post, on the ground, blood coating his armor. It looked worse than it was, but he was likely in shock, and was utterly unfocused on anything except how 'bad' he was hurt.
"I knew it wasn't berserkers. Not at range. You're mercs. Or Alliance. I'm not…. I'm not telling you anything!"
Jorge took a step forward, but Shepard waved him back with one hand while her omni flared on the other.
"Shame. I've got a shot of medigel all ready. But if you'd rather I kept walking ..."
"Son of a… I don't know anything, I just shoot the overflow from the labs…"
Jorge listened as the merc laid out the basic scenario. How Jedore, a Blue Suns commander, had hired Okeer to make her an army, but that the krogan he had created were insane and were instead used as live target practice. An incredibly stupid practice in his opinion; using krogan as target practice was like putting yourself in a cage with a hungry varren every day, sooner or later you were going to lose.
After pumping the merc for information of defenses, and having the guard mislead his superiors to cover their presence, Shepard sent him off with an admonishment that his wound really wasn't that bad, and that it would probably be best to find a new line of work. The man limped off, cursing, but didn't get on the radio or impede them in any way. Jorge saw Garrus' trigger finger twitching.
There were more mercs in blue armor around the corner. More shouted propaganda over loudspeakers. But the squad blazed through them. Even when they pulled out the micro-missile launchers, Jorge would suppress, Garrus would take down the longer-range targets, and Shepard and Jacob would handle the closer range targets.
If this was the kind of army Jedore was training it would be taken out by the first semi-trained colony militia they ran across.
Dead krogan were scattered around their path, but the team did not see any live ones until they came upon a lone hump-backed figure fighting like mad against several mercenaries in their path. It was utterly fearless, standing alone away from cover, attempting to use a shotgun to knock targets off a balcony outside the standard range, a useless endeavor. Maybe it was crazy, like the mercs all thought. Either way, when the team engaged the mercs, the krogan didn't flinch, or even acknowledge them. Only when the mercs were dead did he turn.
Jorge, Garrus and Jacob all pointed their weapons as the krogan approached, but Shepard didn't- she held her shotgun loosely in front of her, pointed in a safe direction, and motioned for them to hold fire. When the krogan stopped, posture non-threatening, Jacob let his gun go to rest. Garrus shot Jorge a look before doing the same; Jorge dropped his machine gun to a one armed dangle, but stepped subtly closer- close enough to prevent the krogan from bringing his weapons up.
"You…. are different," it said. Covered in heavy plates with no detectable barrier and a full face helmet with glowing eyes, a voice modulated by speakers to get out of the suit, the krogan sounded almost more like a volus than a krogan.
"New," it continued, hesitantly. It rolled words around like it was trying them out for the first time, speaking for the first time. "You don't smell like this world. Seven night cycles, and I have felt only the need to kill. But you… something makes me speak."
"A week old, already full grown and ready to kill," Jorge said aloud. The krogan looked at him, stared as Shepard postulated about what they were doing in the breeding program. The krogan shook his head at that word.
"Bred… to kill. No. I kill because my blood and bone tell me to. But it's not why I was flushed from glass mother. Survival is what I hear in my head. Against the enemy that threatens all of my kind. But I failed even before waking. That is what the voice in the water said. That is why I wait here."
Jorge tuned out the conversation as he kept watch, on both the krogan, and on the remains of the gutted ships around them for Blue Suns. Even so, it was interesting to hear the experiences of a lab grown genetic experiment. It was a simple creature. That would explain why it stood out in the open and took fire.
"You wish me to show you the… glass mother. She is up. Past the broken parts. I will show you," the krogan concluded.
It strode purposefully away, towards one of the walls, limbering up, before grabbing a plate of quarter inch blast steel taller than it was, heaving it up, then throwing it out of the way.
"Glad he's on our side," Jacob said aloud.
Garrus just smirked. "We have a Jorge."
"This is the way to glass mother. You fleshy things are slow when metal is in your way," the tank bred krogan told them, gesturing to the path.
"You could come with us, you know," Shepard said. "See Okeer, tank-mother again."
"No. I am waiting. The voice told me. If they come, I fight. But I will not run, and I will not follow. I am not perfect, but I have purpose. I must wait until called. Released."
Not so mindless after all. And loyal enough to follow his chosen father figure to the death following his orders. Jorge stared a moment longer after the krogan, trying to decide if it was admirable or alarming what it was doing. He settled for putting the matter behind him, literally and figuratively. Shepard took point as the newly opened passage headed down, into the bowels of a wreck, everything covered in dirt and mud even down here.
"They're loose! Run for your damn life! They're all free!" came a panicked cry from up ahead. A Blue Sun rounded the corner to find four weapons staring him in the face. Shepard's shotgun barked an instant later, just as another came around the corner and began to fire at them even as he charged towards them. His firing was haphazard; Garrus' assault rifle fire was not, and he dropped quickly.
It wasn't long after that that they met their first live, hostile krogan. Standing on a ledge pathway, the krogan looked kitted out identical to the krogan they had talked to- heavily armored head to toe, full helmet, shotgun, but no shields. This one did not hesitate to open fire on them, and strode purposefully forward towards them.
Everyone opened fire, and Jorge's gun was quick to make its impact as the krogan stopped moving forward, then collapsed a few seconds later, numerous holes in its armor.
That set the tone for the next engagements as Jedore ranted over the loudspeakers about an unauthorized krogan release; a krogan would walk, or jog, or run, towards them, and would last until Jorge turned his attention to them, at which point they would go down. Hard. A few fired carnage shots from their guns; Shepard dodged one by charging said krogan and staggering it before finishing it with a few shotgun blasts to the gut, while Jorge tanked another without his shields even going down. The catwalks they were on made the dumb krogan like fish in a barrel, but there were enough streaming towards him that Jorge had to pulse his fire by the end of the engagement to not overheat. Once the coast was clear, he flicked the discharge button and four used thermal sinks clattered to the ground; the gun whirred as they were replaced.
The Blue Suns were panicking, and it wasn't hard to see why. Dead mercs littered the hallways as they began to climb, and frantic communications made it clear that even the micromissile armed mercs were not doing well. Between Shepard's team and the waves of krogan, the Blue Suns were folding.
It wasn't a cakewalk, but the frantic, two to three merc trickle wasn't much of a challenge for Jorge, nor the rest of the team. Garrus and his sniper cut through mercenaries left and right, a single hole through each helmet, his face hard and inscrutable. Jacob fought like the seasoned soldier he was, perhaps a bit cautiously, but then, he had never been a part of Shepard's team on the original Normandy. And Shepard…
Whether she was the real deal, or a clone, or a puppet, or whatever, her combat skills had not suffered. Even with the biotics. Heck, they were even faster now; the slow unstoppable tide had changed to a wave of speed, a furious assault by which she would charge into the enemy formation and cause havoc while the other three picked off the remaining mercs as they advanced quickly to her position. Then it would repeat, the engagement beginning with Shepard charging towards the enemy while the rest of the team supported her and cleaned up.
It was highly effective, and fast too. The mercs knew it as well- their comms were filled with frantic efforts to stop them, but all it did was hasten them to their graves. No sooner would the mercs arrive then they would already be under attack by a furious Vanguard with a shotgun, suppressed by a machine gun, plucked out of cover by a lift then headshotted by a sniper. It was a slaughter. And not even Jedore's shouting fury about how they couldn't even take care of three people and a junky mech changed anything.
Then, quite suddenly, the action stopped, and they were in a waiting room with a smartly dressed asari crouching behind what little cover there was.
"Shepard don't shoot," she said as she stood. "You know me."
Beneath his helmet, Jorge raised an eyebrow, but followed Shepard's lead as she set her weapon to a ready position.
"I shut down the security feeds as soon as I saw it was you," the asari said. "Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad it's you shooting up the place. Sorry, Rana Thanoptis. You let me go when you destroyed Sarens lab on Virmire. Had to outrun a nuke in a utility pod, but it's still a second chance."
"I remember you. I assume there's a good reason why you're using your second chance here?" Shepard replied warily.
"Don't worry, I'm not wasting the chance you gave me. My work here- strictly beneficial. Not for the mercs. Jedore is on a standard power trip. But Okeer is trying to do something good. Even if his methods are a bit… Extreme."
Her eyes, and everyone else's, were drawn to the skeleton lying on a nearby table. A human skeleton.
"Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And sometimes giving one pays off. I take care of my debts," Rana said decisively. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of here, before you blow up the facility again-"
Rana had started forward, looking to move around the team, but Shepard stopped her with a left hand on her chest.
"Hold up. What's Okeer doing here?" Shepard asked.
"It's complicated," Rana replied. Jorge watched Shepard reach for her pistol, Rana's vision blocked by the left side of her body and the eye contact that Shepard made. She suspected nothing. "Jedore wants a private army. Okeer mostly ignores her. He's running the project for his own reasons. I created a mental imprint routine to educate his tank bred. Most don't get through it, he dumps them for some reason. He wants to help his people but he's not looking for a genophage cure and he's not going for numbers. That's all I know."
"Thank you, Rana," Shepard nodded. Then she quite calmly brought the Carnifex up to the asari's temple and shot her.
The asari collapsed bonelessly to the floor, a hole through her skull. With her back to him, Jorge couldn't see her expression.
Jacob voiced his shock. "I don't think that was necessary, Commander. She was unarmed, a civilian…!"
"No third chances," Garrus said quietly. Shepard stowed her pistol, then nodded at Garrus' words.
Jorge, beneath his helmet, merely cocked an eyebrow.
"I encountered her on Virmire, doing work for Saren breeding an army of krogan and studying the effects of indoctrination. Starting with her own predecessor, the former head scientist that had succumbed to indoctrination. I let her go. Gave her a second chance. Even if I didn't think she'd survive the nuke on Virmire. Now I find her here, with a merc company, and another army of krogran, doing questionable experiments on humans and vat grown krogran. She had her second chance, and she spent it doing similar but different questionable activities. I don't trust her enough to give her a third chance," Shepard replied. With that she turned and marched towards the door to the next room. Without looking back once at her team.
Jorge followed without question, without emotion, externally. Inside his helmet, he frowned as Shepard approached an old krogan who immediately set to lambasting her for taking so long to get to him. Would Shepard, the real Shepard, really do such a thing? Rana was unarmed, a civilian, a non-combatant even in a situation where she should have been armed. She was a compassionate woman, who believed everyone should get a second chance, with no exception that he had yet to know. Was Rana somehow a threat to Cerberus, and Cerberus had ordered her terminated and used this clone, or a control implant chip, to do so? Is that why Shepard did not turn around and tell the team her reasoning to their face?
But, he knew Shepard had a ruthless streak as well. She'd threatened to take him and destroy her entire former gang if they crossed her again. And she had given Rana a second chance already, Garrus had confirmed it, so was this merely a judgement that a third chance should not be given, as Garrus suggested? Was the reason that she had not turned around and delivered her judgement to her squad shame, or regret, that she did not wish her team to see?
"Attention!" the voice of Jedore blared over the speakers. "I have traced the krogran release. Okeer, of course."
The old krogan warlord stomped over to the window, where, thanks to his height, Jorge was able to see down in the bay below where a woman in Blue Suns armor was talking over comms.
"I'm calling 'blank slate' on this project. Gas these commandos and start over from Okeer's data. Flush the tanks!" the speakers called out.
Pressure valves opened behind them, preparing to vent the tanks strewn around the area. Okeer, however, was most concerned when the tank holding his 'perfect krogran' began venting in preparation for the flush.
"She's that weak willed? She'll kill my legacy with a damned valve!" Okeer cursed. He turned to the team. "Shepard! You want information on the Collectors. Stop her. She'll try to access the contaminants in the storage bay. Do this for me, and I will join you."
"Why save this tank? Why not just start over, like she plans to?" Shepard asked.
"This tank is pure. It involved as much trial as data. Starting over will not duplicate it. It must survive," Okeer replied, turning back to the tank. "Jedore will be with the rejected tanks. Kill her. I will.. Stay. And do what must be done."
"Commander, she's got some heavy mechs down there as well," Jorge said, his height giving him vantage enough to see into the bay below.
"We'll need all of us then. Form up, let's move!" Shepard replied. Her shotgun unfolded as she led the way to the door to the stairs at a brisk pace, the team following after as they readied themselves. It was a quick jaunt down a set of ramps, then Shepard motioned Jorge to take the lead going through the door into the room Jedore was in. She hit the button, and Jorge swung into the room just after Jedore's voice came through the speakers again.
"I don't care who they are, I want them dead! This is my world! I'll poison them all!"
Definitely someone with massive delusions of grandeur. Soon to be dead.
Jorge moved in and swung the gun right, towards Jedore, and opened fire. Jedore started ranting at them, now shouting across the bay instead of the loudspeakers, and pulled a portable missile launcher, similar to the one Shepard had, off her back, and fired back. Jorge kept moving and the missile missed.
The room itself was strewn with cover, in the form of the hulking krogran growth tanks, as well as debris, crates, and consoles from the dead ship. The tanks were arranged in two rows, facing each other, with corridors around the outside and right down the middle. Jedore was behind the opposite row of tanks as the team took up positions behind their own row, dodging the missiles and curses sent their way.
Then the tanks began to flush, in sequence, and everything got more complicated as newly-born krogan, with weapons already in hand and covered in armor, began to charge their position. It almost made the activation of the heavy mech behind Jedore an afterthought. Almost.
Jorge turned his attention to one krogran across from him and lit it up. They were tough, though, and before Jorge could do enough damage to put it down for good he had to dodge a missile from Jedore. Garrus kindly cleaned up the krogran with an assault rifle burst to the krogan's head, and Jorge turned his gun onto another krogran that Jacob and Shepard were already pouring fire into. They would have finished it off by themselves, but Jorge's gun hurried it along.
Then the mech entered the fray.
The YMIR heavy mech, made by the Hahne-Kedar corporation, was designed for an anti-infantry role. Equipped with dual mass accelerators on one arm, and a rocket launcher on the other, it was armed enough to make mincemeat out of even hardened infantry; and standing 3 meters tall when fully extended, covered in bone-white light vehicle grade armor, with powerful kinetic barriers it was hardened against infantry scale weaponry short of dedicated heavy weapons. It was large, and relatively slow, but moved purposefully as its VI dictated, programmed to destroy any infantry sized target it found in its path. Jorge had faced a few before, as it had become very popular over the last two years, used by mercs and others as infantry deterrence, so he knew just how tough it could be… or how vulnerable, in the right areas. Or in the right situations.
It opened up on Jorge, a withering hail of fire. The fire rate of the dual mass accelerators beat his own, and Jorge knew from experience that as good as his shields were, they wouldn't stand up to it very long, so he took a hurried step and ducked behind a clone tank. Intent on suppressing him, the mech stomped forward as it continued to fire at the tank he was hiding behind, even as Shepard and Garrus opened fire on the mech.
That was the real key to dealing with YMIRs; have a team. Jorge could play tag with the mech, waiting for the mass accelerators to go into cooldown, dodging the missiles it would throw with the other limb, but the easiest method of taking care of the mech was to have someone else shooting it while it was focused on you. They were pretty dumb, their minds limited to the VI logic they were slaved to, so teammates could hammer it without fear while its tiny mind was focused on taking down the primary target.
It was going to take a while with Shepard's shotgun and Garrus' rifle though. Even with Jacob's shotgun added to the mix, the YMIR's shields held as it stomped forward. Jorge waited for the opportune moment.
That moment came when the YMIR stopped moving, stopped firing, cocked its missile launcher laden arm, and loosed a missile at the empty krogan cloning tube he was hiding behind. The tube was tough, made to hold a krogan after all, but even so, Jorge saw enough cracks in the material that he knew it would be time to change cover. Still, with its programming cycle complete, the YMIR reverted back to the beginning: select a target. Given that Jorge remained behind the tube, the YMIR selected the nearest person who was shotgunning it, who happened to be Shepard, finished venting the dual mass accelerators, then stomped forward and resumed firing, this time at Shepard.
Shepard ducked behind the cover of a different krogan tube, ordered Jacob to scatter, then tasked Garrus with suppressing Jedore after a micromissile narrowly missed Jacob as he was moving. Just as Jorge stepped out of cover and lit the mech up with fire of his own.
With shields already partially depleted by the rest of the team's fire, the YMIR barrier held for only a few seconds before sparking and collapsing. It took no mind as Jorge's mass accelerator fire began to tear into its armor. Jorge shifted fire to its head, one of the weakest and most vulnerable points. His new gun, he still needed to name it, was more accurate than his old, and while he did not have it linked to his HUD he could still predict fairly well where it was shooting, more so at a range of less than thirty meters. The shots sparked up the armor to the head, which took seven bullets hitting out of the fourteen fired at it to the 'head' before the fifteenth penetrated the compromised armor.
The mech went limp as the head jerked to the side, before slumping, dual mass accelerators still firing. It attempted to reboot itself, but Shepard swung around cover and blasted it with her shotgun; at her distance, multiple pellets struck the head and damn near blasted it off. The YMIR reared back now, arcs of electricity sparking between the heavy armor…
The YMIR exploded with the force of a small bomb, staggering Jorge and Shepard both. That was the easiest way to destroy a YMIR; use a team, and hit the head hard. No need to waste time reducing the mech to a bullet riddled sparking mass when a few well placed shots could cause a power core overload that will blow it apart for you.
A krogan charged out of the smoke from the YMIR detonation, crazed bloodlust in its eyes as it charged the small woman. Jedore also screamed in rage and sent a micromissile hurtling towards the staggered Commander.
Jorge charged towards her, she could take the krogan or the missile, but not both. He could take the krogan. But, even as he blurred forward faster than any man his size had a right to move, Shepard proved him wrong. Ebon energies curled around her and she was suddenly not in front of the krogan anymore; even his enhanced eyesight tracked her only as a blue blur between microseconds as Shepard Charged at Jedore, knocking the woman back.
The krogan was confused by the sudden disappearance of his target, but was just as quick to see Jorge charging in. Jorge's shields deflected one shotgun blast before the krogan decided to forgo ejecting the heatsink and instead threw the gun down, bellowed, and charged towards Jorge.
Nearly seven hundred pounds of krogan in heavy armor is no laughing matter, for most. Then again, three quarters of a metric ton of human is a far more substantial mass. The krogan's helmeted head met Jorge's lowered, charging right EVA shoulderpad, and gave way to the oncoming freight train that was the Spartan. It skidded backwards unceremoniously, nearly end over end, but was still moving when Jorge turned his new gun on it at point blank range, pointed right at the chin. It stopped moving after a couple of seconds.
An alarm began whooping somewhere.
"Shepard, lab alarms coincided with a systems failure. The remaining lab systems are unprotected, and I have gained limited access," EDI informed the team.
A quick glance at Shepard saw her heading back, shotgun loosely held in her hands, a woman in Blue Suns armor dead behind her.
"According to lab scanners, the room is flooded with toxins, and Okeer's personal life signs are failing rapidly. I recommend haste."
"Szar," Jorge muttered in his helmet.
"Shit," Jacob echoed.
Shepard was running back across the bay now, and the rest of the team took that as their cue to head back to Okeer as well.
"EDI, can you vent the room?" Jorge asked over the comms.
"I have already engaged contamination procedures," she replied.
The loudspeakers began announcing an emergency vent as they reached the stairs that would take them to Okeer's lab.
"See if you can vent it faster!" he said as he bounded up the stairs. He was followed by Jacob and Garrus, and finally Shepard.
"Masks on!" Jorge shouted as he made it to the top. The door opened when he hit the holographic lock.
"Masks are no longer necessary," EDI intoned as Jorge rushed over to the collapsed krogan by the console. "All toxins have been vented. Okeer's life signs are rapidly fading."
"He's not going to make it," Jorge replied as he came to a stop over the old warlord. Okeer was collapsed bonelessly on the ground, foaming across his entire mouth, his eyes bloodshot and yellow. He coughed once, then once more, and was still.
The terminal Okeer had been working at flickered to life with a video log of Okeer as Shepard came over.
"You gave me time, Shepard," video Okeer said. "If I knew why the Collectors wanted humans, I would tell you. But everything is in my prototype. My legacy is pure. This… one soldier, this… one… grunt… Perfect."
Okeer succumbed to the poison just as the contamination procedure kicked in and vented the room, then cut off.
Damn. Now not only was a lead on the Collectors dead, but so was their recruit.
"Why would someone so fanatical sacrifice himself for one krogan?" Garrus asked, musing as he looked at the one krogan still in the tank.
"He seemed pretty convinced this thing was the validation of all his work," Jorge replied, dropping his gun and taking his helmet off with a hiss. "Must have believed it was worth his life."
"He could be useful on the team," Shepard mused.
"Or he could be uncontrollable like his brothers we fought," Jorge grunted.
"We won't know until he's out," Jacob said. "That's too late if there's a problem."
Shepard nodded, examining the huge tank, and the krogan already clad in armor inside. After a moment, she reached a decision.
"Normandy? Okeer is a no-go. But we have a package that needs retrieval. A big one."
-[]-
Got stumped by Mordin this chapter. Took a while before I came up with a way through him and his conversation. Sorry, but, well, I can't promise it won't happen again unfortunately.
Any suggestions on what to name Jorge's gun? Make sure the suggestion is in Hungarian.