A/N: Thanks to LogicalPremise for interest and feedback. Chapter has been overhauled and may see some minor edits later.
AIS Lab Report: Findings on NS-SU-1/SE-DE-1 (NonSentient-Subservient/supportUnit-1 SEntient-DExtroamino-1)
Analysis of species SE-DE-1 ship wreckage (Cruiser-Light-analog #3) by attached I4 units retrieved a single specimen of an unidentifiable species different than SE-DE-1
Condition of the corpse was moderate. The epidermal and dermal layers are damaged by vacuum exposure and burns (consistent with third and fourth degree over upper torso and neck, minor incidences of second and first degree among body). The anterior end of the torso contains a cauterization wound, though connective muscles and bone structures indicate a tail may of been present and removed prior to death. The limbs are relatively intact aside from the dermal layers, though imaging scans indicate that many of the bone structures are shattered or malformed from trauma. The torso is intact, though stipulations on internal bleeding based on limb trauma and concussive effects of a shockwave likely did moderate damage to organ structure. Surgical dissection yet to be conducted. Neck tissue and bones show clear signs of breaks. Additionally the top of the skull is ripped off and the rest fractured, with the braincase and occipital area being ventilated and the contents subsequently lost.
Dermal layer is not notably resilient in regards to modern weaponry. Negligible concerns. The dermal tissue is rather simple and consists of a mix of scutes on the torso with more nominal scales on the limbs. Interestingly each one seems to have a cluster of immuno-derived cells that dissolve rigid structures and assist formation of new tissue, allowing the specimen to grow and upsize its plating without shedding skin.
The body plan of the organism contained 2 lines of external symmetry along the torso and limbs, a ridge of pentagonal plates among the ventral surface of the abdomen serving as a distinction there along with a gradual curve of a horseshoe towards the dorsal side . The head and neck lines up with the cauterized wound we assume held a tail, and serves as the only exterior distinction for that direction. The limbs are jointed to allow easy bipedal and quadrupedal movement, with hands that have 2 fingers and two opposed thumb-like digits.
The skull is interesting, unfortunately the braincase and top side were too damaged for analysis, but the 4-boned jaw is interesting enough and provided some insight. Teeth are a mix of four-pronged spikes and triangular cutting edges, and seem to be retractable into the gum. The shape of the head is slightly triangular, reminding me somewhat of a camen with more bulk. Possibly a fish-eater given the dentition and jaw shape, which would support the quadrupedal stance. There are what appear to be sections of eye sockets and two smaller unknown gaps in the skull, though the entire area is too damaged for an accurate read. I'd hypothesize two primary eyes supplanted by 4 smaller eyes split into pairs, though without an intact specimen or access to better facilities I cannot be sure.
Comment: Overall the primitive structural support of the legs and the cauterized tail make me assume this was a pet or some sort of support animal. Likely picked up from another planet and kept around for novelty or abilities and fed and housed like we would a support dog.
SIG-ID: Dr. Erik Yoeu
Date: ?/04/2182 Gregorian Calendar, Unknown system.
For the second time in a row I woke up from induced unconsciousness. A chill had settled in, and I could smell the unpleasant combination of blood and unwashed beings. Feeling came back to me slowly as senses suddenly registered before my eyes were able to open or my limbs were able to move. Rolling over sent a pang of nausea that was quickly swallowed up in haste by hunger, the irrational chill remained, limbs and abdomen covered in bruises while the flesh on my arms was ragged, a thin layer of skin regrown by the medi-gel but crisscrossed in a spiderweb and patchwork of lacerations, scabs and scars.
I pushed myself into a sitting position against the metal wall, slowly cracking my eyes open a little. I ignored the uncomfortable bright blur that the world became, useless at helping me determine my location or situation. The tickle of memories became a flood a second later, bodies and chases and pain and asari that blurred together. The worst one-night stand in my life followed by a day of hectic violence and disgusting actions contributing to my current state.
Well, presumably you're in a cell on the corvette you escaped on, it's possible that you did something to piss off the captain, or he just doesn't trust you and tossed you in the brig. Or Syella did something worse, and you're both locked up because of it.
My vision finally clearing up and let me look around and kill any good spirits, locked in a ship's cell stripped of my armor and omni-tool. I rolled my neck to relieve the stiffness but hit something along the way, something cold and uncomfortable against my neck. I stopped and brought my hand up, confused and curious about the situation. Fuck. Most of my pain disappeared in a flood of adrenaline as I frantically tugged around the edges of the slavers collar; vainly searching for a flaw, a weakness, a defect in the construction or a hope that it was cheaper material from a shitty omni-foundry so I could get the thing off. About five seconds in and my hands apparently had better things to do as the collar shocked me. I fell to the side as muscles seized and spasmed, the finger I'd slipped under to pry nearly dislocated from the sudden motion.
The torment stopped, my breathing hiked and my hair feeling distinctly static-ridden along with an annoying itching sensation behind my eyeballs. I decided then to leave the collar alone, nothing I could do without my omni-tool that wouldn't end with more electrocution. Calming myself I took a look around and investigated the cell. The bars were way too thick to bend and probably made of something strong enough to avoid it anyways, but the electronic lock on the cell doors could be an exploited weakness provided I'd actually had an omni-tool. Currently it was only a taunt and annoyance as thoughts of slipping a key off a baited guard vanished like the vid-influenced hopes they were. Turning my eyes inward to the cell revealed a small room, only a few meters across each direction and slightly wider than it was deep. Small toilet in one corner along with a sink, water-rationing spout on the faucet.
I looked to the other corner of the room and saw Syella, the asari curled up in the corner on her side asleep, armor also stripped off and neck clad in a bulkier collar I assumed contained a dampening field. Thankfully her clothes were still on, but I really couldn't assume she was fine given I had no idea how long I'd been out for. Medleys of mixed emotions and feelings fought for a response. Pity for another being, anger at her for dragging me into this mess, regret for my actions towards her upon waking up, guilt at what I thought would be an escape resulting in the pair of us stuck in a slavers hold on a corvette. For now, the best I could do was wait, let my tentative companion sleep and try to figure out something when an opportunity presented itself. Washing up as best I could with the sink's measly ration and hoping the mess of skin on my arms didn't get infected took priority, along with waiting for an escape opportunity.
Uncountable hours of absolute boredom, listening to the quiet humming of the drive core as we cruised in FTL. One guard had walked by an hour ago and noticed I was awake but hadn't said anything, a sneer plastered across his four-eyed face. I'd glared at him and received another charge from the shock collar in return, the fuck's laughter as he walked away worse than the stinging sensation if only because one of them could be dealt with via slightly shifting the collar to scratch my neck. The next time he walked by around an hour later I kept my head down, the action taking more effort then I would have liked.
Syella's either still asleep or they hit her pretty hard, I'm assuming still asleep given her position and even breathing. If I can figure out a way to get that collar off we can burn through the corridors, but I don't know If we can do it.
A grunt of pain in the corner, my cellmate finally waking up. I turned around to take stock in her situation, noticing the series of electrical burns on protruding contact points along her neck and limbs. Shuffling into a position to watch as much of the hallway as I could while working my dried-out throat to a speak was unpleasant but necessary.
Speaking hurt, each word taking its toll. "How long was I out? I think a few hours, can't really be certain about that..."
She shifted into the corner and turned so her left side face the door, staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and relief. "Not too long Nikolai, I was a bit worried given the cut on your head, probably still should be. I'm sorry, my human medical knowledge is about as short as my resume."
Surprised she doesn't want to kill you given the private dock was your idea. You really should of just hijacked a shuttle idiot, or tried to goose-chase her in the city.
I let slip some sarcasm. "Worried about me? Would have expected you'd blame me for our lovely accommodations." Her expression got worse, probably not the best idea to bring up. My luck held in that it only consisted of a sour look.
She pulled her knees into her chest, calves crossed as the top of her head dipped down to rest her forehead on them. Her voice was flat, lack of the panicked or remorseful inflections, probably not the best state if she'd resigned herself in a slavers cargo hold. "Considering the justicar, I don't particularly blame you for trying a bad option to get us off-planet. Least she won't be able to kill us on some terminus backwater, maybe we'll consider it a mercy if she ever does."
I spoke, trying to keep her morale up. Whether it was the confidence of youth assuming every situation had a way out, or my own selfish desire to survive was irrelevant. "There's got to be something we can do to get out of here. Breakout on holding, wait for a transfer, see if there's any other slaves in here who can fight. Something."
Her head tilted back up and I met her gaze, blue eyes with flecks of silver staring into my own. "They dragged in a group of humans while you were out, wildcat miners is the term? Already unconscious but the gear following them in was enough of a wave to crest the tidepool. Nobody else drags mineral scanners and eezo digging tools around the traverse but doesn't have an escort. One had the same collar as mine and might be a biotic, though he looked pretty badly beat."
She looks less resigned. Careful still, no plans of discussion at current until you figure out whether they have any ears in the cell.
Her lips had started to bleed as she was speaking, the lack of water not doing the alien any favors. I made a note to myself to ensure that she got more of the water rations from the faucet, she'd need it more for biotics than I would. I relaxed as I tried to see what else I could remember, once again interrupted by the same stabbing pain behind the eyes. Still reeling I caught a trace of the sympathetic look from the previous morning, only opening my eyes to the sound of footsteps on the deck.
I heard the batarian's voice before he stepped into view along with a silent human. "Both the little scums are awake at last. Captain was pretty pissed you got his daughter killed outside, took some extra pleasure in ordering you two's accommodations." Four eyes settled on the asari, and his voice got a touch deeper. "Too bad he wanted you in prime condition for sale, or the two-eyed bastard would have upped crew morale and let us have a little fun first, scales are always enjoyable to break in once you got a dampening collar on."
I avoided a shudder at the image that came to mind, the memory of a desperate gaze up into my own as skin flushed and tears rolled. Syella's response was an insult based on drowning oneself in a whirlpool, and the batarian took on an annoyed glance for a second before the same smirk emerged, needle-like teeth bared. A wave of his omni-tool and her collar sparked alive with arcs of energy, sending her toppling to the side from her tucked-in position. Five seconds of screams later and he stopped, Syella taking the moment to roll out onto her stomach and push up.
Another shock sent her slamming into the floor, purple blood spilling from a now broken nose. The floor muffled her screams but did nothing for the spasms as limbs and muscles twitched, the shock lasting for a second before my reaction. I lost it for a second and threw myself at the bars, arms unable to reach through and instead gripping the bars with murderous intent. The batarian laughed, an ugly sounding ruckus that only made me growl in return, the apparently younger human seeming put-off by the scene. I turned around to check on her as the torture stopped, coming to two meters away before my own collar activated.
I tilted forwards as my legs turned to jelly, the smaller form protesting with a grunt-scream as I collided with her back in throes of pain, silent at the cost of my badly bitten tongue. A second later my spams led me to roll off her mercifully, smaller form shuffling into the corner by itself as the fire in my neck continued before cutting off. I thought I caught a pitiful glance from the younger human as he walked away.
Good - well, good something that hurt, I'd imagine my neck looks pretty nasty under the collar from that. In brighter news, there seems to be a moral dilemma there, perhaps Syella or I can do something about the kid.
I let Syella recover in silence, her form hunched sideways in the corner with arms over head. I tried to draft an escape plan, throwing aside dozens due to lack of information or resources before finally thinking of one. I recoiled at it almost as soon as I processed it, the primary action stooping to the same level that necessitated my still-present guilt from rage-firm hands wrapped around a bloodied throat. I took a deep breath, losing a bit of myself as I realized that there probably wasn't anything better, no choice that would work perfectly. Nothing I could influence would work, at least not with the shock collars and not without an omni tool. I could process and deal with it later, stress doing its job to keep me focused on the task rather than spiral off topic. These were slavers, why should I care what happened to them? I'd shot someone for less, for a damn job… Pushing that aside, but still feeling stained by what I'd intended, and what I needed to ask of a demon stuck in the same cell as me.
Sleep first before you discuss this, I doubt Syella's going to take the plan well. I can't think of anything else dammit, I can't hack the lock with nothing, no biotics to break the bars and no ways in or out of the cell except the door.
An indiscernible amount of time later I awoke in a panicked start, flanging higher-pitched screeches ringing through the small ship as another set of victims were pulled in. I pressed to the bars to get a glance, staring at the results. Two turian adults with matching clan markings, one male and one female with relatively standard builds. Silvery carapace on the male but an interesting dull orange on the female's own, her darker plates lending a noticeable contrast. My gut sank at the collars stuck on their unconscious forms as they were dragged by a pair of crewmen each and shoved into cells further down the line, sounds of two doors indicating separate prisons being used for each. I'd not noticed the discrepancy of unconscious people making noises until the next set came in.
Whatever traces of hesitation left at discussing my plan with Syella were forgotten in a mere instant as the pair of bound turian kids were dragged in by the next set of crewmen - no - slavers. Small, meter-high mini-turians with splintered plates and blue blood dripping as they writhed in the grip of larger captors before being roughly tossed into a cell together like refuse. My translator wasn't doing anything with the sounds I'd realized weren't actual words at the scene occurring outside my sightline, and I didn't know whether to be comforted or disturbed by that. Kids, actual kids thrown into a cell bleeding and crying as their unconscious parents were separated. I shuffled into the corner, going back to sleep as Syella had already done so, arms over her aural clefts to presumably keep the sounds from haunting her dreams. I didn't blame her, the high-pitched warbles surfacing before I could drift off several times.
The next wakeup was less pleasant, the flanging of one of the parents calling for their kids before a booming voice responded with "Shut up" over the intercom and everyone's collars went off. Screams of different inflections filled my ears as I strained to avoid my own, eventually just letting out a scream. One single cry of pain to spare my tongue and lose what dignity I had maintained living in a damned cell. The shock just continued, a lesson to the whole goddamn cargo to shut the hell up. Unwilling to go to sleep again I pushed Syella with a foot. Prone body moving slightly as she glanced towards me.
I panicked at the sight of her eyes, ringed in black with purple veins pushing out. Backing away and scrambling to my corner as fast as I could in sheer terror before I consciously realized it was just a reflex, and that the collar would stop anything biotic anyways. I crawled across the floor sheepishly to sit next to her. Uncomfortably close, though the smell of unwashed asari helped keep me from drifting away to other thoughts. I leaned in to whisper.
"I have a plan." Brilliance. Such a morale-boosting statement with a plethora of information on details and survival it had the predicted effect. A blank glance from eyes returning to normal and a flicker of hope that quickly died to suspicion.
A conspirators whisper in return. "Well Nikolai, what exactly is your plan?"
I expected more swears at a vague statement like that, she must be getting desperate, biotic not getting food even with that fucking collar keeping them in check, hell she probably eats as much as me and I outweigh her by a lot.
I hesitated, pitifully aware that it wasn't an actual plan by any stretch of the word. At best it was a few ideas shoved together from desperation and the boredom of the cage. I proceeded with utmost care to avoid sounding like an insensitive jackass, trying not to make it sound too blunt. "Seduce the nervous guard-" Nothing, probably because she looked too tired to do anything. "- convince him to dial down the dampener for some fun and grab the omni-tool bracelet. Open the damn locks, disable collars and use your biotics to blow the fuck out of this cell, grabbing and arming the other prisoners with whatever we scrounge off the guards. Turians should fight."
She looked pissed at best, first time I'd actually seen her looking good and angry at something. Asking her to offer herself to a slaving guard as bait probably wasn't a good idea, but the best I'd come up with in assuming he'd be inexperienced enough to assume some stereotypes given her species. Not to mention the young man had looked the most at-ill about this and probably would be the least suspicious seduction target given he hadn't had a turn playing with the shock collars. A play on his guilt and naivety with a bit of luck and desperation, then hope for the best. I had no idea what she'd actually do to be effective, but unsaid was even doing what she'd done to me would be enough to put the kid out of the fight and get him close enough to the door to swipe his omni-tool.
Scary asari mind-shit. You do realize how morally depraved this is?
Her head whipped towards me as fast as it could with the collar, voice a low but sharp whisper as she spoke. "You want me to whore myself to a slaving bottom feeder? To leave a mark so you have a chance to get out? To use the condition I've tried to repress my entire life to purposely torture a kid exactly like the monsters they ship to a monastery?" Eyes slipped to black and immediately sent me on edge, and I heeded. Backing up as best as I could while still sitting to the point of almost scrambling away as she prowled forwards, eventually pinning me to a corner where I finally got the nerve to speak, my intended calm response going down the drain as I finally snapped at her, sick of the conflict I'd felt before and pissed at our circumstance.
I barely managed to keep my voice at a whisper, rage diluting the control. "Yes Syella. You already fucked me over and it's our only chance to get out of this shit. We have nothing else. No omni-tools, no biotics until we get rid of your collar, nobody who cares enough to rescue us and even if that justicar somehow tracked the ship down do you think she'd spare any of us in our current states? Do you? I'd rather not get executed by a biotic juggernaut we barely escaped from the first time! Or suffer another violation you from one of you mind-fucking freaks!"
I'd risen up to use my height despite her having me backed into the corner. My tirade at an end, the same look of fear that haunted me briefly flashing at something larger than her being aggressive. We stared at each other, winding down from the tense situation as she finally backed away after a minute of uncomfortable positioning. Her expression became more thoughtful expression as I calmed down visibly, as she seemed to be considering the options for herself. Nervously glancing around the cell and focusing on the electronic lock and bars before letting out a rather human-like sigh, the common cross-legged pose and slow methodical gaze.
Before she could respond I made another point. "I'm sorry, that was excessive but I'm still conflicted Syella. I've known you for what's probably less than a few days and things haven't exactly gone well. We need you to do this, you saw they have damn kids in here. That's gotta count for something, even if you won't do for the fucking one-night-stand do it for them.
A sigh as her head dipped down again, leaning her right shoulder against the metal wall. "I'm goddess-damned aware Nikolai." Her voice had normalized, and with a shift in her resigned posture to a less passive stance she gave a proper answer. "I'll do it."
Nodding, I did as best to interject as much kindness as I could muster in the circumstance. "Thanks Syella. We'll get out of this somehow. They'll slip up eventually and we owe each other enough from this mess to get out of it."
I surprised myself afterwards by moving closer and hugging her, the initial stiffness of surprise relaxing as she returned the gesture. It was nice so long as the collars didn't get in the way, a simplistic gesture of comfort and contact despite everything. Last time I'd got a hug was just over three years ago when I'd left earth, a final gathering a few close friends slipping in to say goodbyes on short notice. I stifle a sigh, far too long. Catching up to the fact that we were both unwashed, uncomfortable, bloodied and wounded we split back to our corners. I didn't trust her yet, but I felt more amicable. Boredom again took root, depressing against thoughts of freedom or escape.
An unbearably annoying time of waiting was measured only by the time the sink rations took to refill, then the ship popping out of FTL. The deceleration noticeable with the cheaper inertial dampeners as the change in background hum also coincided. Hearing footfalls from above - must be heavy armor - and deciding to make the most of it I caught Syella's attention before nodding myself to sleep, indication it was her turn for the impromptu "watch". Drifting off took longer than I hoped, the hunger getting worse as my body tried to heal without a proper supply of food. Finally slipping to black took too long, the shock long worn off and the colourful menagerie of nightmares having plenty of recent fuel.
The whining of a collar's discharge woke me up, eyes flicking awake to glance at my cellmate lying on the floor, not enough strength to do much other then spasm as the shocks worked her over due to our lack of food. I looked out the bars and saw a human slaver walking away, leaving the two of us alone again and probably confident the now-floored asari had been punished for whatever slight they'd determined. Rolling her into the corner with as much care as I could muster received no response, with her eyes far too glossy to be healthy. I took my allocated faucet ration and returned to the cage's bars to investigate the hallway while I seethed. Too hungry to do much other then wait at this point. Footsteps. Swallowing the moment of fear and replacing it with anger, unwilling to give them what they wanted and steeling myself for just enough slack.
I need to stop resisting, does it even buy me anything if they come back again? I should conserve my energy and keep my head down, anything to last a bit longer. No, you won't give in and start the breaking process. They haven't chipped you yet and probably don't have the injectors for them. Or I'm unchipped because the buyer wants slaves to break themselves, only sane reason to take individuals off a firefight being the breaking of someone who isn't as soft.
The kid walked by, either his actual turn on the shift or sent down when the one who shocked Syella went up. I didn't care and throwing aside what reservations I had I did something stupid and spoke up.
"She needs food." The words were out of my mouth surprisingly quick, and I cringed in preparation for a shock that never came. Instead I got a blank look, but the trace of unease I thought I saw made me push my luck further, hoping something would go well.
"She's asari, without her biotics she doesn't need to eat as much but she still isn't meant to go as long as a human or turian without something to eat. She won't be in a good state for whatever your plans are, it won't be a good sale if she starves to death onboard." Hastily averted eyes as the kid shuffled on his feet for a moment, then heel-turned and walked away. I buried my face at the action, the sting of tear ducts suppressed as I clenched my fists to try and stop them.
You stupid fuckup, you might of just ruined your entire fucking plan with that stunt. He'll be back with the other guards, offer something else to satisfy the 'hunger' or whatever sick innuendo gets made at her expense.
I was interrupted by the sound of something hitting the metal floor. I braced myself for a flash grenade, for death if they'd thrown an explosive in, for something painful or disgusting or … Syella grunted. I opened my eyes to the most wonderful sight in who knew how long. Meal bars, four on the ground while a quick-acting Syella stuffed her face in the corner with the fifth, desperately trying to regain lost calories and energy reserves for a metabolism used to a constant supply of food from the ocean's coast and rivers. Grabbing one of the bars for myself I hesitated a second. Poison? Something to degrade? No. Not from the kid, not when they had better ways.
A small tentative bite made me smile at the taste, flavorless grit that reminded me of the protein vats I'd scrounged on the citadel before finding a job, or when short on cash anyways. Only no cricket-like keepers meandering around me on whatever mission they seemed fit to run for the station. Eating slowly as to not upset my stomach I finished the bar and snapped roughly two thirds of another off before throwing it to Syella. She'd need the calories a lot more for biotics than I would to run and hold a trigger, and my survival likely depended on her biotics in any regard. Hiding the remaining one and two thirds bars that we saved in whatever sections of our clothing we could noticeably perked our spirits. The hunger still a constant companion but reduced to a small ache easily shoved away rather than consuming my thoughts. The boredom was still the worst though. No overt talking for risk of another round of global shocks as an attempt to stop plans of dissent and to keep our morale down despite being thrown into cells in pairs.
After an unknowable amount of time I'd realized something; we had yet to re-enter FTL. Whatever business on-planet or on-station had yet to be concluded. A possible explanation for the lack of the usual batarian guards and just the kid and other human coming by. Events luckily coincided with my thoughts as the doors opened, a flurry of voices from the crew reaching through as two batarians came walking in, dragging something behind them.
There's a certain wonder, a certain shiver that I'd always had at seeing a new species that helped me tolerate the protein vats for my first week on the citadel. The last thing I'd expected in our fucking slave pen was to see an alien I couldn't identify from my time on that station. Lizard-like and probably reptilian, a camen-like head with six eyes. Twice the length of my own neck was covered by the same collar model as those on the turian's, the connection leading into a blocky symmetrical torso studded in plates, with no discernible clothing aside from a utility sash. Limbs were at an odd angle, better than an early tetrapod in terms of supporting weight but not the straight-supporting stance common among most terrestrial species. A cauterized stump of a scab where I'd assumed a tail would be served as the main distinguishing part of the being's rear, the torso otherwise identical aside from it and the heads placement. I looked at a limb as it was dragged past, four-digit hands with two paired sets of fingers. I had no idea what the hell it was, but it looked mean - slow if the leg stance was an indication - but still mean. Semi-disgusted as I was for another being to end up in the same boat as us, I didn't bother to suppress the flicker of happiness.
I shuffled closer to my asari cellmate, both our spirits and body language looking better than they had any other time since our capture, a side effect of the food and irrational giddiness making me willing to take the risk for some whispered conversation. "Syella, you've been around a lot longer than I have. What species were they?"
She looked slightly less surprised than me to see the new capture, but not so surprised as a new species but rather surprise at seeing one of them here. "That's a zom, one of the turian's client races without any care from the council." A quizzical tilt to the right and shuffle. "Odd, I've never seen one outside of turian space before."
Of everything I'd expected to see on this slavers boat that was pretty low on the list. I'm actually somewhat happy to see them - sick as it sounds.
Nothing to do and not in a mood to sleep I sat in the corner, keeping watch as Syella nodded off in a fetal position in her corner, back turned out towards me. Hours passed as I tried to relax and clear my mind, occasionally stretching out a limb and testing muscles to see how I was faring. I was on my back with my toes and legs up as the ship dropped out of FTL again, I frowned, not remembering when it had engaged it and realizing that I'd not made the connection to the core's hum. With the sound of armored boots I expected another set of unlucky victims to get dragged in, or buyers. I tensed as I prepared for massive krogan to come in with hungry eyes, or batarians with control-chip implant devices.
Instead the captain finally showed his face for the first time since boarding, his grey beard and cybernetic eye replacement reminding me of some old game I'd played as a kid. I stayed in my corner to avoid an outburst or inflammatory action, simply resting took more control than normal, muscles tensed as I subconsciously prepared to spring and fight despite my intent. Said captain was at the rear of the group - my glare had flicked to him first as the cybernetic stuck out - behind several assorted crewmen armed and waiting. The same taunting batarian who'd tormented us with the shock collar strode up to begin pacing the floor between cells as he spoke.
"We're at our compound. All you two-eyed gravel-bits get a meal bar now so you look in better shape when the purchasers come to pick you up. I heavily suggest you resist, the shock collars are always a fun demonstration to your fellow captives. An attempt by any of you will result in all sharing the immediate punishment, though we may make an exception for the asari."
Don't do anything, you'll have a chance for escape during transfer, or afterwards. A chance with the buyers, a chance on the next ship. There's a chance somewhere, giving up isn't how you find it.
Syella flinched slightly at the last statement. One of the slavers I didn't recognize started throwing meal bars around. Four landed in our cell, we split them and hid one each while eating the other as quick as possible. No way to see how many everyone else got, if they were feeding by species or resistance or just randomly. One of the cells electronic locks beeped, the sound of omni-darts firing in sequence afterwards and a muffled pulsing sound. Two batarian crew appeared in my field of view, pulling the unconscious zom out by the hind legs while its head and arms lolled back across the floor. We sat waiting for a few minutes, another set of opening doors and we watched the turian kids dragged out by a muscled human and batarian, small but plated limbs flailing useless against the armor. Another few minutes, the batarian standing in our doorway as it opened, me almost rushing him before deciding better of it with a suppressed flinch. It didn't seem to matter, a raised gauntlet as a dart pricked my neck. The same blackness I'd fallen into before came slower, and I was only aware for few precious seconds as I felt something lift me while as world once again dripped down my eyes.
Noise came back first, incoherent murmuring with unusual pitches and languages. Cold chills as nausea came to the forefront only to be in turn replaced by a headache. Realizing I'd been given a lesser dose this time I pushed my eyes open, the much brighter room than the ship immediately slamming into me before subsisting as I flickered them shut in a staccato of blinks. Pulling myself into a sitting position against the same type of bars as on the ship I finally got a look around. We were in a prefab warehouse, though the cargo area was empty and filled with a series of cages housing a variety of beings stuck in the same mess I was throughout two rows of four cages each. Skinny batarians shrunk in fear of their own kind filled the nearest and only cage on my left, five of the four-eyed aliens packed into the same cage like animals and huddling in the center, looking resigned at their fate.
This isn't what I expected. I can't feel a chip, for some reason. Also, only a few cages must be some sort of gilded auction, or we're dealing with some serious bottom-feeders. Hopefully the latter.
My own cage contained another three humans - two men and one woman, all unconscious - one of the guys having the same biotic-nullifying collar as Syella. The wildcat miners presumably, still out since they got dragged here after me. I looked past them to the cage across and saw the turian family in a cage, but with a subdivided wall keeping the chicks and adults separate so that the kids could be accessed easier. Next to the turians after an empty cage on the right the now-awake zom prowled back and forth, not alone in the cell as a terrified-looking drell sat frozen in the corner. Finally finishing the sweep to my right saw Syella in the far corner of a cage, pointedly trying not to glance at the unmoving asari on the ground in the middle. Purple skin in far less clothing and with a lot more visible cuts, and I almost retched when I saw blood on the small of her back and thighs. Leaning against my own prison to take calming breaths as to not waste energy and fluids, dull-ache flaring behind my eyes and making it harder.
Am I still having moral qualms about doing anything to escape? After that scene you better not, there's no reason to hold back if you get out. Compartmentalize, call that image up if you hesitate, though you don't hesitate on the trigger if your job history is any indication, no you can't deal with it afterwards.
I checked the rest of the room, only noticing two guards in the corners, one being the uncomfortable-looking kid from the corvette. We hadn't been able to do anything in transit because of the drugs and I glanced at Syella, trying to catch her attention without alerting the guards. We had to gamble if waiting for the wildcat miners to wake up was worth more guards possibly coming along, but it was on her at this point. All I could do was sit and wait, hope the other asari in the cage served as a reason to act.
I leaned over the closest wildcat and gently prodded the side of their face. A few minutes later and the woman in the cage stirred, a second of uneasy motion before bolting up and looking around. I glanced at her two companions, silently nodding she copied my efforts on the biotic. A gasp and grunt of pain spoke of his arrival to this realm only a few seconds before my patient lunged up suddenly, groggily swinging an arm and catching my nose. Cartilage crushed and I fell over backwards, scrambled over by the woman as she went to assist her teammate.
I clutched my nose and saw the kid coming over to check on the incident, waving him off to the side as he was by the next cage over. He turned towards the wall and began to walk, stopping to analyze each cage and looking away from the batarian one. I watched with interest as he closed in on the asari cage, absentmindedly munching on one of the meal bars I'd stashed. I stopped for a second, snapping off a chunk and throwing it to the biotic who received it with a confused and distrusting glance before snapping it up.
Syella was talking to the guard. I swallowed my nerves, forced myself to be ready and attentive if anything occurred. The same pressed-together legs and crossed calves, slightly favoring her left side as she talked to the slaver, the kid. He looked confused, worrying me that things wouldn't go well. I couldn't hear her whisper but I saw the kid get closer, leaning into the bars now as she talked. His face took on an agitated look as my hopes fell, only for her to gesture to the purple asari in the center and receive guilty expression in return. Now moved as close to the door as I could while still seeing, they went to the other side of her cage out of sight from the corner guard.
Smart on her part, which didn't exactly sit well. Another few seconds of conversation, her body language changing between pleading and sultry as the kid slowly became more malleable. His omni-tool flared, and he finally moved in. I couldn't see her eyes go black, but I saw the tension, saw her figure clench as the kid's inexperience proved his downfall and he fell to the floor, dead or unconscious. Nonetheless Syella had his arm and his omni-tool and the a few seconds later her collar fell off, coming apart at the hinge. A warp burned through the lock on her door as the other asari now finally moved, shuffling as far away from Syella as she could with frantic motions.
The other slaves all noticed, and the snippets of conversation attracted the other guard. Raising his rifle, the human advanced towards the now-free Syella. His stupidity saved us as a stasis field came into place around him.
That could have went worse, her biotics are back and the two guards are immobilized. Just try not to think too hard about the kid, probably best not to check if he's alive or not. I don't have time to anyways.
Syella spoke to the group, clipped tone audible through the murmurs. "Everyone off the locks and be quiet. I'm warping them down and we're killing all the scum and getting out of this damned tide-pool."
Syella was dealing with the situation now, shooting the other asari a cursory glance that sent them scrambling to begin work on the turian's cage. The omni-tool lifted from the kid did its job as collars were disarmed and fell off, the lack of security functions on it a blessing for us and a curse for the slavers. My collar was off, the lock burned out by the other asari's biotics. I ran over to the guard in stasis to grab his tool. Then Syella let the biotic in our cage out first so she could start on the drell and zom's cage. Seven seconds to free each captive with a simple circular process on the tool, and within half a minute I'd freed two of the wildcats and was working on the third. I'd just finished with him and was turning to help the remaining batarians when their collars activated, the normal electrical shock now an aggressive surge that burned out the collar before it exploded. Brown blood dripped from the stumps and I looked away.
Fourteen of us alive with three in bad shape, and I crushed the thought of arming the turian kids before I could rationalize it. The drell sat in a corner still as a rock while muttering something. The other asari was trembling and unfocused, and one of the batarians had a shattered and useless arm. Someone with claws had seen free to rip out the stasis-locked slavers throat while I hadn't been paying attention, and the red-covered talons of the female turian made me inclined to believe it was her.
Well, she's getting into the spirit more than you are, let her have the moment, they took her kids after all.
The batarian with the broken arm started. "Racist asari! You and your human pet freed us last, only because of our species! You're no better than the-" His voice was cut off, the male turian lifting him clean off his feet by the neck and glaring, mandibles flickering in unison with quivering annoyance.
The turian chirped for attention, I stayed quiet, letting the individual with more military experience speak. "We're free for now, but they're going to be coming at us soon. Biotics, we need you at first. We rush them before they can react and gear up, looting theirs as they fall. Everyone unarmed stay at the back and watch our flanks, omni-tools use whatever they have onboard."
Nobody protested, the adult turians each grabbed one of the guard's assault rifles while the female wildcat claimed the pistol. Three biotics, three armed individuals, two with omni-tools after Syella handed her acquired omni-tool to one of the batarians. Notably not the problematic one. No time for conversation as we all followed the turians, exiting the corner door and heading into the corridor. I just hoped they didn't have grenades or a squad support weapon at the base. I hadn't seen any on them before except for a few flash-bangs and the one Avenger with an omni-rocket mod, but that was in the corvette and docking area.
At least it's a lot quicker to go down by LMG then to end up at some terminus thugs arena or private slave army.
One of the wildcats spoke up as we jogged. Male, non-biotic moving in the middle despite the lack of a weapon. "Standard model for this prefab layout has an armory on the second floor. We get up there and we've got a better chance at escape if we can grab some gear and sabotage the rest.
Sounds like a good idea, hopefully we get there before them and things may actually work.
"Or we give them more time to kill us with their ship." Problematic batarian had a point, but the sneer in his voice and the glare from the miners in response threatened to escalate.
I decided to speak up before the argument devolved further and before the turians could exacerbate it. "We can hit the armory and get our personal gear back. If they notice us going for the ship and dig in we won't last, if we raid the armory we limit what they have and what any stragglers can use."
You're not military, sure trying to make calls is a good idea? No, but I needed to do something before those idiots screwed things up or started fighting.
The haptic panel glowed green as the tech-assigned batarian overwrote it, rest of us staying back. Turians and biotics at the front, rest of us behind them with me and the zom at the front of that group.
The door opened, and a barrier sprang to life from Syella just as our combatants rushed through. The hallway led to a warehouse section full of cargo crates and two slavers who went down almost immediately to biotics, hurled across the room by throws. One human was dead as evidenced by the skewed neck while the batarian bounced, more physically able to take the impact and not snap anything. The wildcat miner was already showing fatigue from the simple action, and I wondered how long his biotics would last us. Syella kept the barrier up, the two turians gunning down the surprised slavers in the room.
I slid behind a stack of crates, focusing on where the last target was before launching a low-quality overload dart at the batarian. His shields and comms shorted out, body lifted into the air by biotics and sawed in half by rifle fire. I looked around to assess our side, the human biotic having been caught at some point during the fight and killed, left side of his torso a pulped mess. I looked away and got up, two assault rifles and two pistols gained for one of our biotics. Rifles went to the Zom and a wildcat, pistols to Syella and the Drell. One of the omni-tools was salvageable but lacked more than a basic kinetic barrier, but the rest had bionetic locks we couldn't deal with.
"We move now, slowing down only helps them."
The female turian took the lead, more of the group now in the front as we moved along. I glanced at Syella but she seemed focused on the turians, and I kept my gaze on them as well. We crawled up the hallway quickly, and the slavers who were waiting in side-rooms up ahead had the perfect time to fire off a pair of carnage rounds into our group. Red flames and smoke filled the corridor as the drells chest exploded into red and green chunks before a chittering death rattle pushed out, and the other asari only managed to put up a barrier before getting hit and knocked to the ground.
Hitting the deck behind the now-crouching turians I launched an overload dart over their heads, and the crackling I received in return indicated at least one kinetic barrier had failed before the pair of shotguns started to bark. I focused on keeping my head down, only launching darts and the occasional mine over my fellow escapees. Syella was doing her best with a barrier bubble but each impact was taxing the exhausted asari, and the cover the slavers had in their doorways made it take far too long and too many rounds before a lucky overload from me and neural shock from the batarian escapee had one on the floor to be killed.
One down, and I tagged the other with a dart that he rolled across the hall to avoid, a mistake as the turians burst from behind the barrier and shredded through his shields and armor. Weapons fire continued to sound from somewhere and I glanced around confused, noting the pair of shotgun-toting slavers that had got behind us. Problematic batarian died in a spray of brown blood from a shotgun slug that punched through his torso, the female slaver letting out a victorious yell as she fired. A carnage round caught our other asari, her weak barrier crumbling from the impact and leaving her open for the slug that severed her neck a second later. The turians had turned around to bring their rifles to bear, but with no cover from this direction we lost one of wildcats to the same female slaver, our lack of kinetic barriers except on the zom who'd taken the weak-shielding tool a hindrance.
The neural shock dart I fired tagged the slaver, her shields just falling from the turian's rifle fire as she slumped over screaming, executed by the zom. The other slaver was caught in the open, shields going down to the batarian on our side with an omni-tool. A warp slammed into him a second later, softening his armor up for the three assault rifles and a pistol that unloaded into him as the follow-up throw sent his corpse hurling down the corridor.
I picked myself up off the floor, almost slipping on the blood coating the floor without the traction by armor provided, bare feet and clothes coated in stuff I'd rather not think about. I looked around as we started to move again, down to just ten of us.
The batarian escapee with the omni-tool spoke up, gruff voice quieter than expected. "We're almost at the armory, someone cover the door while others get actual armor on. We'll finally have some shields."
I ignored the pain behind my eyes, following the turians and keeping watch on our rear and the turian kids with the Zom. Every door on the way to the armory was a gut-wrenching nightmare, another potential ambush as we passed by.
Its luck I've survived this far, that they haven't had any grenades on them and wiped our merry little unshielded group out.
We finally came across the armory door, unguarded and conspicuously available. I didn't particularly care as I saw my gear shoved in the corner and tagged for analysis, still stained with dried blood from my previous action. It was uncomfortable to look at, but no worse than the fresh blood of different species currently covering me. I rushed in and found my omni-tool in the pile, the device thankfully unmolested with only a single failed access attempt. I made sure that the turians and zom watched the door while the rest of us geared up, the only suitable equipment for them being a few kinetic barrier belts and some extra weapons.
The turians just gave their kids pistols, I'll try not to think too much on that.
We stepped back out into the hallway, moving out in the same formation and arriving in a larger adjoining room full of empty crates and cages, a secondary storage area. The door on the opposite side opened with a hiss, rifles thundered from our group to strike a kinetic barrier that snapped into place with a hiss. The fire ceased after a few seconds, and those of us with omni-tools prepared overload mines.
Heavy footsteps heralded the captain walking out in a massive black and red hardsuit, HUD reading as Colossus armor. His cybernetic eye stared balefully from behind the reinforced visor, a spark of red among a sea of black as he spoke.
"You killed my crew. You hurt my sales and pillage my base before you can be sold and dealt with. This was just business." His face twisted at the last word. Not a rant, just a tired old man talking to us from behind a barrier curtain with two guards.
"You have one chance. Go back to your cells and the one thing you value most doesn't get taken away." His voice took on an almost sad tone, head dipping down in resignation with the lack of response. "Very well, you brought this upon yourselves."
I ducked behind one of the heavy crates in the room, most of our group having already done so upon the barrier's formation. The barrier dropped, gunfire coming from our lines as I launched the overload mine I'd prepared. Their suits took the hit as they got to cover, one of the guards ducked out from cover with something in his hand.
Grenade launcher, get the fuck down.
I ducked further behind the crate, hoping it didn't lob off the ceiling to bounce behind me. An explosion on my left, shrapnel of the destroyed crates audible pinging off nearby surfaces. I turned around, still behind the crate as I checked to see who got hit, wiping the side of my helmet. Blue blood.
The turian kids were gone, a mess of ichor and plates on the floor behind the cage at the back of the room. I dropped to my knees, trying not to throw up in my helmet. The parents noticed and shrieked, running from cover to storm the slavers while the rest of us took the opportunity to fire, Syella's biotics slamming one of the guards into the wall before lifting the captain into the air, his form riddled with sparking gunfire from those of us still intact. The parents fell, reckless as their kinetic barriers failed and plates shattered from impacts.
Five more corpses and two piles of assorted meat added to the room, shots still trading with the other slaver. A heard a whoosh and dived, a small flare approaching me as I rolled away. My cover exploded, armored body tumbling as I felt shards ping off my armor, medical alarm listing several lacerations through the undersuit while the plates deflected most of the shards. I crumbled to the ground dazed, laying there for a few moments before I could stand, grateful for my helmet and armor.
I stood up, helped to my feet by Syella as those of us left looked around. A human, an asari, a batarian and a zom the last vestige of three times our number in a desperate call to action for our futures. Syella seemed exhausted, worn down from poor conditions and biotic usage. The batarian and I were beat up but alright in our armor, the zom seemingly lucky to avoid being hit so far.
I was momentarily startled as the zom spoke. "A request to know your names before death or freedom" Medium-pitched and in pulses of sound behind the translator. "we may fight harder knowing who stands next to us, and I want to thank the asari who provided us the opportunity."
"Syella, and thank the huma- Nikolai." A tilt of her head towards me. "His plan and his efforts that convinced me. I… I don't think I'd of done tha- it otherwise."
A pulsing hum from the zom before they spoke again. "In that case I thank you human. That you helped this endeavor raises my opinion of your species, tarnished as it was by seeing them as guards here after the batarians caught me. Call me Tingan."
"Let's get out of this shithole Tingan. I'd like to converse on better terms once we're off this rock." A pulsing growl-hum in reply.
No idea if that was affection or hatred, need to brush up on some extranet reading later on.
"Nylack." Spoke the forgotten batarian engineer. "Let's just get out of here."
Nylack walked up to the main airlock door, omni-tool flashing as he hacked aside the security sequences and the door opened with a VI voice blaring that the other side still had pressure. We moved in, Syella taking point as the four of us rushed out to find cover under the protection of one of her barrier-bubbles.
Not giving the enemy time to focus fire and pin us down in the entrance we charged in with a storm of automatic fire and biotics. Rounds rippled on the barrier as we got to an edge of the service section of the docking platform, providing the four of us cover against the gunfire headed our way. I slipped in before the barrier collapsed, a glance at Syella revealing her spread in exhaustion and panting, torso shifting even through the armor.
The corvette still sat there, our objective only a few dozen meters away across a maze of platforms and crates. We had to move fast, it was the only way off base and if they left they'd be able to starve us out, pick up some mercs or buyers or just vaporize the facility with the main guns.
Four of the slavers shot at us while an unknown number were inside the ship. The fire on our cover didn't let up as they alternated volleys and heat management, forcing the zom to stay down while us in armor could only pop up for a few seconds before defenses went down. We were running out of time, we needed to move before they got the corvette up, and we all knew it. I felt myself sinking, more and more dread with each second until Syella finally got up again, catching two of the pirates in a lift field before her barrier went down, a single shot searing through a damaged plate and into her arm. She waved it off as I started towards her, medi-gel packet from her belt already dispensed over it.
Nylack and I popped out of cover, tech darts breaking shields before my marksmen rifle punched through a faceplate. Brown blood poured out the hole and suspended itself in the field, the other form cut in two by Tingan momentarily coming up to add his own fire, confident the last slaver outside was cooling his weapon.
One more then we storm the ship, we can do this. So close Nikolai, stay in this!
The last slaver popped out and in arrogance I stayed up, marksman rifle barking as his kinetic barrier flared and stopped my rounds from punching through his faceplate. I kept firing, hoping his would break faster than my own when the assault rifle erupted in a cloud of smoke and an explosion. The omni-rocket missed me, instead striking the floor nearby and sending a shockwave that spraying molten omni-gel in my direction. My shields took the worst of it, the glowing blobs brushed to the side before the shockwave and fireball sent me stumbling back in daze.
Everything went dark for a moment; my ears rang from the blast even through the helmet. Vaguely aware of warnings from my hardsuit computer I tried to roll, instead feeling myself rise up and settle onto something bumpy. Still dazed I was aware of motion, my body shaking side to side like a wagging tail while with the sensation of moving towards my feet. Ten seconds passed, the sounds of gunfire cutting off for a few afterwards as I hit the ground.
My broken nose resumed bleeding, and my helmet filled with the smell of iron. Clutching my head as I tried to get my helmet off, I froze upon a crackling sound and a wet thump. Nothing happened, I wasn't shot, wasn't sent flying from an explosion. I sat up and wiped away the blood that had covered my eyes. I recognized the inside of the corvette and dropped my helmet, laughter bursting out in pent-up relief that the situation was finally over. The justicar, the slavers, the mess of firefights that made me want to curl up at a bar alone. Less elated after that thought I stood up, taking the staircase to the command deck slowly as muscles and joints protested. I could tell we were airborne given the hum of the ship, and I wanted to see what the planned destination was. Bickering voices came to my ears as I approached the command deck, Syella's softer voice and the batarian tones of Nylack audible.
"This ship has no GARDIAN array, we can't sit here and wait any longer. We need to leave. There's an independent colony only a few light years away. We can deal with this corvette there. It's small and out of the way, no Alliance interference."
"Batarian, we just got hit by slavers and you want to push deeper into the traverse rather than heading back to the independent human colonies? Are you tides-damned crazy? We just got out of a slavers pit. Your issues with Alliance notwithstanding I'd rather be on a traverse world again."
"Syella, I have no hate for humans considering my own people can be just as bad. Don't forget who else was in the cells. We can split up from there and the population is other low-caste mostly. No slaving due to the region and they'll leave us alone if we show up with even a small warship."
They stopped to look at me when I entered the room. Both still wore armor splattered with blood and grime, the batarians four eyes weary with tiredness and Syella's purple-tinged as veins were visible near the surface from too much stress. I moved to sit down at a sensor console and ignored the way the contoured chair didn't fit my armor, glad to simply have a proper seat aside from the floor.
"How about you talk to Tingan and I before we actually pick a planet? Or maybe just get us into orbit in case anyone's still alive down here." I snapped, annoyed the two were already trying to decide.
Nylack nodded his head to the left, glancing at Syella and turning to me as he spoke. "The zom was wounded, went down to the crew quarters since there's a small medical facility. Bring them up and we'll look for options in the meantime." The emphasized word coincided with a glance at Syella.
I mimicked the gesture and limped away out the door, glad to maybe be able to refill the suits medi-gel dispenser and get some conversation with the alien. My mood rose with interest to talk to a species I'd never met, and hopefully Tingan would reciprocate. My leg hurt with every stair, but I could still use it given the armors servos and labelled it is a medical suite issue.
I reached the crew quarters. Taking the time to announce my arrival with a knock, and not receiving a response I waved the haptic interface to open. The lights were on, a few sleep pods and a pair of cots on the end. A greenish-grey blob lay spread out on one of the pods.
"Tingan, we need to pick a destination." No response. "Tingan?"
I risked a poke and felt only room-temperature skin. Then I noticed the inky red seeped into the cot. A limp arm remained that way when I shook it and the six eyes remained closed. I opened an eye with my fingers, almost expecting to lose an arm if they were only asleep. Nothing, empty sockets were blank of the life that had been visible during our escape.
"Dammit!" I screamed, pissed off at the waste of it all. "Not like this, not like fucking this. You don't die after getting to the ship, no…"
Spinning around I punched the wall, pain flaring up as my fingers only avoided being snapped by the armored gloves. "Fuck! not like this! You're dead, you told them you'd be fine you stupid lizard!"
Another one dies for you, an alien and person you'll never get to know. Dead by your plan and rescuing your ass.
Another series of punches, I lost control as I failed to compartmentalize the drells recurring death rattle, the slumped over asari, the mess of plates and flesh and bones of the turians, even the slavers who hadn't been wearing helmets with bodies shattered and faces twisted. My vision unfocused and the only thing I was aware of was the purifying jolt of pain for every burst, every quick snap of my arms as my hand smashed into the same spot on the wall. Wordless cries on my lips as fitful glances at the body made me continue.
Arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling my arm back down and me back a few steps. Nylack moved through the doorway to investigate the body, Syella still held me back as I slowly stopped the useless struggling.
"He took a hit when he went out to grab you, said it wasn't dangerous." Nylack's gravelly voice, unsaid that the big lizard had gone and died probably to save me in some sense of the comradeship he'd tried to inspire.
Syella took the time to cut in before I could do anything. "We'll see to his body being treated properly at wherever we go. For now, let's just get to orbit."
We reached the bridge, I sat down in the same sensor station only to avoid getting the caked-on blood on any more seats than before, letting the two more knowledgeable in spacecraft operations do their stuff without interrupting, just staring blankly at the screen. We left the atmosphere without incident and proceeded to make burn for the edge of the system. Minutes passed, then half an hour and as I started to drift asleep I got a ping on the console.
Lurking in the planet's small rings revealed the heat-radiating form of a ship, wash of its drive lighting up the console as it burned on an intercept course. Five minutes away at current acceleration. We could have jumped to the next system, but our course had instead taken us to discharge at the gas giant and get it out of the way. Straight into a trap.
"We have a problem. Lidar is classifying what looks to be a destroyer escort or a sloop on an intercept course. They are in low-success evasion range and demanding we cease acceleration or be destroyed."
Not more slavers, if something else can actually continue to go right. No GARDIAN and a corvette against something that size was suicide at best, even I know enough about naval warfare to realize that. We won't win.
"I have a plan." To my surprise Nylack spoke up, Syella looked just as confused as I was. "I greet them when they board while you two hang back, slavers may respect a batarian in armor enough to let us be depending on the group, and bluffing may save our lives."
"Plan reeks like fish in a red tide." Syella's stance shifted, her weariness visible as her displeasure erased some signs of the tiredness.
I let my actions speak and headed to where the docking collar connected to the main corridor, rifle unslung as I stood. The ship shook slightly as it extended, Syella and I hearing and feeling the clang of when it contacted from our cover. The hissing of the small docking collar pressurizing heralded the arrival of our guests. My own eyes probably reflecting the worry in hers as we both stood, tense with weapons ready.
The airlock opened with a hiss, out of line as Syella and I waited for Nylack to negotiate. A heard the amplified shout of a single word as the proceedings started,
"Squint!"
Gunfire filled the air, and Nylack didn't have a time to exclaim before the sounds of kinetic barriers overloading coincided with armor and flesh being rent by high-quality guns. Syella and I tensed up, waiting for our otherwise silent aggressors to step into the open before the same modulated voice spoke again.
"Corsairs. Slaver scum only surrenders or dies!"
I made my choice and threw my rifle across the deck to be visible, Syella instead holstered SMG and kept her biotic barrier up as I tried to parley before we got grenaded.
"We're escaped slaves! We took their ship!"
Silence, several seconds passed while they considered my words, the seeming officer speaking once again. "Walk out slowly and unarmed."
I did so, Syella stayed behind cover with a very pissed-off expression as I raised my hands and moved to the center of the hallway. I stopped a few steps in when I'd noticed the squad of six humans all pointing guns at me. White and black medium armor sets with flared left shoulder pads each emblazoned with a sailing schooner. Flash grenades on the right arm and what looked suspiciously like nerve gas on the torso. A glanced at their guns, my HUD flagging two with M-22 Xiphos shotguns and four with a rifle it couldn't identify but that looked a lot like a modified Hahne-Kedar Lancer in my mind.
Another one spoke a few seconds later, furthest on the right and closest to the docking collar. "Sir. He doesn't match any of the slaver profiles and his armors covered in all sorts of blood. I think he's telling the truth."
Slowly raising my empty hand so as to not end up like Nylack, I pulled down the amour section from my neck. The action collapsing the plated mesh so that they could see the shock collar burns. I got a nod in return before he pointed at the corner and spoke.
"Tell your friend behind the support frame to come out, her biotics are on-sensor."
Syella stuck a hand out from behind the pillar first, and with it not being shot out also stepped out, arms not up but away from the guns on her hips as her biotic barrier sputtered out. She stood unsteady next to me and slightly behind on my right before facing the corsairs to speak, sentence laced with trepidation and fatigue.
"You killed a slave."
The corsair turned, looked at what was left of Nylack and shrugged. "Batarian on a slaving corvette. Made a guess. You two though, neither of your faces match what we had for intel for this group, and the lack of comms from the base checks out. We'll send a team down while we debrief you."
A gesture to follow and lacking any choice we did. Off the corvette, away from the body of someone I didn't know who nonetheless died for me. Boarding the corsair ship saw us shoved into a holding cell. The hours dragged on, before a stern-looking man came by and stopped in front of the door.
I saw our guns on a trolley behind him, and wasn't surprised when he said our story checked out, and that they would drop us off at Emerald's human colony.
CODEX: Zom
The Zom are a client race of the Turian Hierarchy, discovered exploring their own solar system by turian scouts after the Unification Wars and before their contact with the citadel council. There is no species-specific government - the species in entirely integrated into the meritocracy and functions with minor economic support from the Volus.
The race is a non-asaroid reptilian, with females having brightly coloured plates as a secondary characteristic but no other distinguishing external features. Zom locomote on four legs as easily as two, and their two primary eyes gaze at objects of focus while the four secondaries watch surroundings for potential threats.
Rarely seen outside of pockets of turian space, zom have a lifespan slightly longer than that of turians, and their culture is reflective of their status in the hierarchy as a client race. Zom generally content to stay on the few levo-amino worlds in hierarchy space not colonized by other citadel races in return for a place in the hierarchies second-line and reserve military units, with no ill will towards the turians.