Ripples in the Stream
A D&D / Shadowrun / Mass Effect crossover
by Vyrexuviel
Disclaimer: The author of this story does not, in any way, derive any profit from the story. D&D, Shadowrun and Mass Effect are the property of their respective copyright holders. Jorukaia and other unfamiliar characters in this story, however, are mine.
She was not looking forward to this. But, she had little choice in the matter.
Her heels clicked with authoritarian klak-klaks as she strode down to the comm chamber, as always calm, cool and perfectly poised.
Internally, she was roiling with agitation. None of it showed on her perfectly sculpted countenance, but her frustration with the new project had just reached new heights with the latest test.
At least when she was working on the gynoid, the data she was getting was logical, and a goldmine of unexpected insight into computing architecture This... This was...messy.
The door sealed with a heavy, muted thud, engaging the sound-dampening, and sealing her off from the rest of the facility. The blue disc of the QEC station flared at her approach and a man in a chair slowly materialized seated upon it.
"Miranda. I hope you have better news?" Her ear detected genuine concern, though she reminded herself that her superior was a consummate negotiator, and controlled his reactions very well. For a baseline human.
"Sadly, I do not." She gave an exasperated sigh and began to pace. She always did that when she was frustrated, and luckily the entire chamber was wired for holographic pickup. She suspected that the Illusive Man enjoyed watching her pace, as he took a sip from his glass. It was impossible to tell what liquid it contained through the holographic interface, but knowing his preferences, a very smooth brandy poured over ice.
"Did the last test not provide sufficient data on the discrepancies?" His voice was mild, as he arched an eyebrow.
"That's the thing, sir, if I didn't know that the sample was incontrovertibly from the target subject, I would have launched an investigation into how we got a sample of someone else's DNA." She turned, pacing back the other way and almost growling as she vented weeks of pent-up frustration. "The latest tests indicated a near-100% match with the genetic sample we archived off C-Sec's own systems. Our procedures were quintuple-checked and..."
She trailed off with a sigh, staring unseeing at the wall. His voice gently coaxed her out of the mood, "And?"
"And it isn't her." She turned, taking a breath and letting it out slowly to bleed off her excess emotion. "All the subjects so far have turned out morphologically extremely different from the target. Under one-point-five meters, slender build, but with silver-white hair and.. I haven't seen skin so black on native African peoples, Sir. Almost blue-black skin. And no scales, not a hint of tail, horns, or any other distinctive feature of the target. I swear, if I hadn't collected the sample myself, and known its veracity, I would be demanding someone's head on my desk for swapping it out on us."
Miranda forwarded the latest dossier and images of the latest test. Several screens promptly appeared before the man, who perused them for a few minutes in silence.
"... I see." The Illusive Man's brow furrowed as he studied the images. Miranda almost didn't catch the rare sign of puzzlement from him. The man sighed as he slowly set his glass down, silently running a finger across the rim. "I never turn to you when I expect things to be easy, Miranda. Even so, when I assigned you to replicate the secrets of the Darastrix's genetics, I must admit I was hardly expecting such... bizarre results. Is there any sign the Darastrix's genetic sample may have degraded over the last few months? Or perhaps the sample was mishandled by C-Sec?"
"No." Miranda had checked that comprehensively. "And I'm not using the C-Sec sample, but one I took myself from the site of the conflict at Project Pandora."
She sighed and started to pace again. "When the first test came out...like that, I checked and rechecked everything, even a sample from the test to compare against the original. The genetics matched. I checked every conceivable possible problem or potential source of epigenetic corruption, and they all came back negative. The second and third tests used DNA from the C-Sec sample, and the fourth, as you've seen, was using the Pandora sample."
She ran a hand through her hair, which made the Illusive Man's eyebrows raise. She rarely was so expressive. Miranda paused, and turned slightly towards the holographic image of her boss. "There's one possible source of manipulation I've considered but haven't been able to test yet. And that is the target's innate ability to shapeshift. Maybe the subjects are what the target really looks like?"
She heaved another sigh and turned away, taking a slow, deep breath to calm herself before turning back to her boss. "I'm sorry for the outburst, Sir. But.. I've had to consider the possibility that it may simply be not be feasible to replicate a shapeshifter's DNA."
The Illusive Man frowned and let out a low sigh. He raised his glass of brandy again, swirling it gently. "A most difficult challenge indeed. Like a Rubik's cube that fights back, I would imagine?"
"More like a multidimensional Rubik's Cube and I'm not sure how many dimensions I'm dealing with." Miranda leaned her hip against the console and crossed her arms. As she was glancing down, she didn't notice the Illusive Man's sharpened gaze. "I've accounted for every known variable. That just leaves... However many unknown variables there still are. I can't seem to quantify just what's going on here. I'd say that Jorukaia must have had some extreme epigenetic stimuli applied to her, but what they are, and how to duplicate them... I don't know."
"I see." He leaned back in his chair and picked up his glass, giving it a slow swirl. "You believe the darastrix is cloaking her genetic structure with her own shapeshifting abilities?"
"I'm not really sure..." Something in her tone brought the Illusive Man's gaze up to her sharply. She sounded pensive, uncertain, something he rarely heard from his best operative. "I can't be certain about this, but... I think she's had direct genetic manipulation done."
"Explain." His tone was neutral as he took a sip of his drink, the hologram's eyes glowing brightly with interest.
"I...noticed something when I was going through a batch of genetics tests. Something I hadn't noticed on prior tests, because I was working on some of the Pandora sample itself this time, to ensure purity." Miranda crossed her legs, frowning down at the floor as she almost hunched a bit. "Her DNA broke in...predictable patterns, when exposed to the cutting agent. As if it had already been broken and recombined prior."
"DNA isn't like a cup, Miranda, it doesn't get weaker if it's broken then glued back together." He coaxed gently, his tone still mild.
"True. Even so, it's like there were pre-made binding spots built into the DNA, in case there was a need to correct something already done to it." She straightened and began to pace again, her voice growing more animated. "I've seen things like that before, in heavily genetically engineered lifeforms. The most famous example is the prokaryote that produces Medi-Gel. Its DNA has been sliced up so many times that Sirta installed binding points in its DNA where their proprietary CRISPR genetoforms could install new upgrades."
She paused, slowly tapping the edge of the console. "I ran her entire genome through a DNA analyzer, looking for any of those sorts of sites, and what I found was... unsettling."
"Go on," he inclined his head, watching her intently.
"At first, I didn't find anything. I thought it was just an overactive imagination brought on by too much caffeine and too little sleep." She didn't look like she'd been pulling all-nighters, but Miranda had gotten maybe six hours of sleep in the last six days, and felt it, even if her body didn't show it. "Then I noticed something. Scattered throughout her genome, are tiny little repeating genetic sequences. At first I dismissed them, because they're too small to be binding sites for CRISPR and similar genomic tools, and there were far too many of them."
"And then I realized I was a fool." She took a breath, suppressing an internal wince as her chest was compressed by her outfit. "They were binding sites. For tools much more refined than mine. Someone out there is a far better geneticist than I am, and carefully altered the darastrix's DNA in very precisely defined ways, all at once, in dozens if not hundreds of tiny areas. Perhaps changing no more than five or six genes at a time at any one point, but scattered across all sixty three chromosome pairs."
The Illusive Man's artificial eyes widened slightly. He was no surgeon or geneticist, but he was still quite well-versed in the field to fully comprehend the implications of what Miranda just explained. He raised his glass and downed the entire drink. "That level of advanced precision is remarkable. And alarming. Humanity is still a young race amongst the stars, but not even the salarians and their genius scientists or even the asari and their advanced technology are capable of such genetic engineering. The darastrix's people grow more troubling with every discovery."
"Like the sailors of old used to say, 'here there be dragons.'" Miranda agreed. "What do you recommend, sir?"
The head of Cerberus pondered fora moment. "Stay the course for now. Keep studying her DNA, I'll provide you with more of our best medical minds. The greatest historical achievements never happened overnight nor were they simple. Some were even accomplished purely by accident of discovery, such as element zero. Which is why the superficial appearance of the clones, however puzzling at the time, is ultimately irrelevant It may not be what we expected, but they may still be just as useful as intended. What is their condition? Their physical capacity?"
Miranda pursed her lips in clear distaste. "We haven't done much beyond a basic rundown on them. The first one we kept sedated until it was no longer viable. The second and third...did not survive, as we attempted to determine their morphology and why they were different from each other and the darastrix. The latest test hasn't been decanted from the growth chamber yet."
"It's only been five weeks, Miranda, and we are only now aware of the complexities of the work ahead. Discipline, time, and patience are the three great levelers." The Illusive Man assured her with a slight smile. "What of your secondary objective?"
"Somewhat." Miranda turned, and frowned at the hologram. "Some of the genetic code from the clones could be useful for Project Phantom, or Project Phoenix. I'm not sure if Project Nightwalker is still active-"
"It isn't." The Illusive Man shifted a bit in his seat. "Don't concern yourself with that. I had to set a few things straight with the project leader. As a result, the project has been abandoned."
"A pity. Might I have what research they did complete? It might help me understand and correlate what I'm seeing here."
"You'll have more than that." The Illusive Man shifted a bit in his seat. "Several of their top minds will be included in the new batch of scientists and researchers I'm sending your way."
"Good. The more eyes I can get on this project, the better. I'm missing something, but perhaps I'm too close to the problem to see it." Miranda heaved a soft sigh, and turned away from the hologram. "When will they be arriving?"
"Already sent. They should arrive within a few days. Keep me posted." The hologram set down his glass and moved to touch a control on his chair.
"One last thing, sir?" Miranda quickly spoke up. "Is there any word on Pandora's... missing asset?"
He hesitated slightly, giving his best operative a long, lingering, appraising look. "At the moment, no. I'll let you know if I have more information."
"Unfortunate." The woman wasn't surprised. She knew better than anyone how well that gynoid frame was designed for stealth and infiltration. "Until then, I recently uncovered how the darastrix managed to locate our otherwise secret base on Typhon."
"Indeed?" He rose from his chair, walking across his office. She couldn't see the office itself, but she saw the small desk-like tantalus from which he selected a bottle and poured into a fresh glass.
"I've been reviewing all the data we've had in the last six months to find something, anything." Miranda watched as her boss carefully closed the bottle, set it back in the rack, and closed the tantalus as he took a sip of his new drink. "Once I had placed it on maximum alert, the gynoid frame's top surveillance systems were able to detect and monitor any and every signal entering and leaving the planet. It was far more than anything our own instruments could accomplish. We were lucky to retrieve those logs before the asset was hijacked, but I didn't have to review those logs until recently."
Her flawless complexion took on a scowl. "There was a certain third party involved, sir. A former member of the STG was watching from afar. And he received a message detailing that once the darastrix's payment had come through, the operative would receive his own bonus through Barla Von."
"So. The Shadow Broker is interested in our little project. Not exactly unexpected news, to be sure." The man paused for a moment, savoring both the drink and the information. "Still, it's something we'll have to watch for. I'll get in contact with the Broker through a few intermediaries, see if I can find out how much he knows, both about us, and about the darastrix."
He turned, the hologram's glowing eyes seeming to examine her on a minute level, still cool and calculating. "Good job, Ms Lawson."
"Thank you, sir." She straightened up and gave a decisive nod. "And in the meantime, you'll have my next report once the new researchers arrive and we can put forward more theories and leads."
"Very good." He nodded back at her as he strode back to his chair. "I expect great things from Project Gemini, Miranda. That's why I put you in charge. You're my best operative, possibly the best that humanity has. I don't want to squander your potential on frivolities. Focus on the mission at hand, and I'm certain you'll make the breakthrough we, humanity, desperately needs."
He sat slowly, and gave Miranda a long, measuring stare, before one corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly. "We're all counting on you, Miranda. Take us to the next horizon."
The woman smirked with gratified confidence. "I'll be doing everything to the best of my abilities, Sir. If I can't, then who could? I'll make sure we won't let you down."
He gave her a nod, as his hologram fizzled and faded out, leaving her alone once more in the QEC chamber.
She took a breath, held it a moment, then let it out, giving a deep sigh. More scientists. That's...good. She felt like she was running rings around this problem, trying to find her way to the center, and always getting shunted to the side by her own over-correction If she just had more eyes on the target, she'd surely nail it down in no time.
More confident than she was when she entered the chamber, she waited for the seals to finish unlocking before exiting with a firmer, more forceful stride. She was going to have a light supper and turn in for the night, reset her brain after a very long day of hard, demanding work.
Maybe she'll treat herself to one of those excellent chocolate toffees...
Synchronicity. Peace. Harmony. Endless affection.
But not Unity.
They were no longer separate as they once were, but neither were they whole. The body that had once born the name Veshar gave a slight sigh and continued to clean their equipment, while the body that had once born the name Kiha tended to a new bruise on the other body's back.
They had been a bit overzealous in demonstrating that they could still operate independently like the others, but without her other self to help guide her footsteps, this body had suffered undue injury.
It was painful and 'Kiha' winced slightly as she dabbed the pain-relief ointment into her other self's back.
Vasir was over in the other room, pacing and muttering to herself. With two sets of ears, she could just about make out that the Spectre was annoyed at something, but not quite what it was about.
"Damn volus... leave it to the least physically fit species to be so good at covering their tracks." Vasir had a very distinctive walk, especially when she was frustrated.
'Veshar' turned slightly and the twins shared a slight smile. 'Kiha' gave her other self a soft kiss on the cheek as she smeared a bit more of the lotion over her twin's back, making them both sigh in faint relief.
The warp that her opponent had sent into her back, when 'Veshar' had been swept off her feet hadn't (quite) broken through her barrier, but the Matron Instructor had been merciless in demolishing her opponent. She'd been put down hard enough that her other self had gasped in reflex and tried to get to herself.
The Matron had had very strong words with both of herself after that, and hadn't been mollified by their attempted explanations.
A soft chime came from the other room, and Vasir's frustrated snarl made 'Kiha' grin slightly. Their mistress was always a bit of a high-strung individual.
"Oh fuck me, what does that Goddess-damn dragon want now?" The creak of her chair as Vasir sat was quite audible in the silence that followed.
They weren't really sure what to think about that one. Their mistress was very annoyed with the ambassador, and with good reason, but...
They still remembered when they were Veshar and Kiha, not VesharKiha as they were now. They remembered the monstrous, gigantic spider larger than both of them put together, and did not want to remember any more.
"Vasir, it's good to see you again." The deeply resonant tones of the dragoness were instantly recognizable, as was the soft scoff of disbelief and disgust from their mistress.
"I would say that the feeling is mutual, but that would be a lie." Vasir's flatly voice was as much like a verbal glare as possible. "The Council has finally cooled down over the latest activities and findings from Virmire. I've actually been enjoying the more routine and quiet investigations since then. But if you're calling... are we going to get any sleep tonight?"
"As much as I would enjoy our verbal spar, I have more important things to discuss than the mischievous rabble on a border world." Joru's droll tone dropped into something so icy it gave them chills. "We have a lead on Saren."
"No sleep for several days then," Vasir growled expressively. "Give me the details. What have you found?"
"A plant older than Athame, a remnant of a dead species, and perhaps the most cunning little archaeologist I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Joru's tone was droll again. "Putting them all together, we figured out where Saren was going, and what he's after. He's after Ilos, specifically, the Conduit."
"D'Vati. I know you're listening. Come in and make preparations." Vasir had long since learned they preferred to be call as a single individual. They shared a look between herselves and 'Veshar' began pulling on a shirt while 'Kiha' packed up the ointment. A few seconds later, the pair stepped over into Vasir's 'command post', as she liked to fancy it.
Really, it was a small office near the center of the office building she used as a base of operations. She owned the building, and rented out floor-space to various firms, both as a source of income, and as a way to disguise her exact location. She'd more than once had people attempting to preemptively snipe out the competition.
Hence being near the center of the building, and inside several thickly-armored walls, with a buffer-floor above and below through which people would have to make a very difficult way through to reach her if she did not wish to be disturbed.
Both of her had had quite a time picking their way through the defenses, as an exercise a week before...
Before they were joined.
"Now then, Ilos?" Vasir shot them a glance and nodded as they approached. She returned her attention to the vidplate, where a familiar horned head floated above the projector. "I'm hardly an expert but I've still lived long enough to have heard of the fabled scientific paradise of the Protheans. Now you're telling me you found it? And this apparent 'Conduit' Saren has been raving about?"
"We have." Joru's gaze flicked to the twins, and despite the distance between them, they flinched and moved to flank Vasir's chair. "It's a bit more than just a scientific research station. It was an entire planet dedicated to research of all sorts. These were fairly isolated laboratories, separated and segregated from each other to prevent cross-contamination. I don't know what research went on there, but I do know that one site in particular was researching the Mass Relays."
Vasir frowned. The Protheans researching the very Mass Relays they had supposedly created themselves? It was not wise to immediately believe the words of a clearly genocidal artificial intelligence like Sovereign at face value, but if there really was an entire planet of Prothean research on them... the implications were growing increasingly unsettling.
"Please explain how you've apparently managed to locate the world that scientists and historians having been trying to find for millenia"
Jorukaia's gaze flickered over to pin Vasir to her chair. "Can you keep a secret, Spectre?"
"I believe you just answered your own question," Tela Vasir responded with narrow eyes. "It's in the job description for Special Tactics and Recon. And please proceed instead of trying to take my words as another opportunity to mock my station."
"Very good, Spectre." Joru's eyes glittered as she gazed out of the hologram. "So can I."
They shivered a little, glancing at themselves, then down at their mistress, wincing a little in anticipation of Vasir's legendary temper. The darastrix cut off Vasir's incipient reaction with a slight shake of her head. "My sources are my own, Vasir, and not for you to know. Suffice it to say that it is...accurate enough, when applied on the largest scale. Ilos is where the protheans were researching many things, and it is only reachable through the Mu Relay. Luckily for you, I happen to have access to someone who knows the location of that relay."
"You mean that exotic 'passenger' you picked up from Noveria," Vasir answered with a flat glare. "If so, that would explain Saren's interest in her."
"Partially. Though Iridescence Of The Wings At Sunset is quite the conversationalist, I think she's rather lonely. Though she does have her brood to keep her company, when I cannot indulge myself."
"Excuse me, darastrix," the Spectre stated, her words polite yet hard with seasoned authority. "You go out of your way to test my sense of focus, and then you yourself go off topic to gossip about quality time with an illegal acquisition you made? I believe you called my office because you had critical intel on Saren Arterius, therefore neither of us can be allowed to waste precious time."
"He's seeking a back-door into the Citadel, Vasir." The hard, brittle edge of the dragoness's words bit sharper and deeper into Vasir than any barb yet thrown. "And if he gets what he's looking for, then it shall be checkmate, as the humans say. He must not find the Conduit. Or if he does, we must pursue him through it. No other options are left. I and my entourage are packing even as we speak Benezia's cruiser is old, but still fast enough. I wished to offer you a chance to join us, if you don't mind being subordinate for a change."
A back door into the Citadel itself? Vasir frowned. That was not good. Not good at all. Someone with Saren's skills to infiltrate and sabotage the Citadel's systems would open the way for an open attack by that massive dreadnought and the geth armada. And if Saren had already found the location of this back door, then they needed to act immediately. Any lingering grievances about taking orders from the darastrix were irrelevant.
"Understood. I'll make preparations immediately and assemble my team. Where is Ilos located? Its coordinates?" Vasir began flicking through her haptic display, shunting Jorukaia's image to one side as she brought up that bewilderingly complex logistic array.
"We do things my way, Vasir." The dragon's tone was iron as she glared across the lightyears. "I want that absolutely explicit When I give an order, you obey. Instantly and without backtalk. I can't have a rogue element in a situation as dire as this. Forgive my bluntness, but I must make this clear."
"You have my word. Like all Spectres, I am used to making compromises to get the job done. Especially with so much at stake." They knew how much that cost Vasir. After Noveria, she'd had quite a long think to herself, and being treated like a naughty child, inconsequential? That rankled Vasir, it rankled her fiercely.
"Very good." The dragoness's eyes flickered up to them, making the twins flinch once more. That gaze, though molten, was as cold and unreadable as any they'd yet been given. In a strange way, it gave them a sense of longing. Like them, this was a truly alien mindset.
"We'll be meeting aboard Benezia's starship. I believe you know the one. Rendezvous with us as...this relay." A map of the galaxy momentarily split the view, with a particular relay blinking for attention. "Once we have you and your team inboard, we'll make a run for the Mu Relay. Unfortunately, that lies in what is now the Terminus Systems."
Vasir was nodding in affirmative as Joru continued, then froze at one particular detail. "Hold on, in Terminus space? Am I correct that this expedition was Matriarch Aethyta's suggestion?"
"I informed her that I was going, and she insisted in accompanying me, yes." The dragon's brows rose in slight inquiry.
"Figures that she wouldn't see the poor wisdom in taking Matriarch T'Soni's starship." Vasir grumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jorukaia, I am willing to follow your lead on this mission if it means bringing Saren down, but I can't allow this, nor will the Council. We are not taking an instantly recognizable government vessel of the Asari Republic into the Terminus Systems."
Even they winced as the implications hit them, while Vasir went on, as if talking to a child. "Not only would the political fallout be tremendous, but even one of my people's famed dreadnoughts would be a poor match on its own against Sovereign and the geth armada. We would never even reach Ilos' atmosphere. If we do this, we will be taking the Normandy for its speed and stealth capabilities to make a rapid insertion and exfiltration. I'm sorry, but that is non-negotiable. The mission would never succeed otherwise, let alone get approved."
"Who ever said I was waiting for approval?" The dragoness actually growled that last word, but she gave a slight nod of acknowledgment "The Normandy works for this. I'll inform you of our party composition. Aethyta will be coming, as well as Jack and myself. I'm not certain who else will be brought along. Who will you bring?"
"My two best scouts, for one." Vasir glanced at the twins, who straightened up slightly at the compliment. "Along with my usual retinue of Garrus Vakarian, Urdnot Wrex, and the quarian, Tali Zorah."
"Very good. I'll inform Aethyta and get back to you with the exact numbers by the time we reach rendezvous Benezia will not be pleased at remaining behind, but she has...other things to attend to."
"Do whatever you have to then. I'll assemble the Normandy's crew and inform the Council." Her lips curved in a slight smile as she settled back into her chair and stared back at the dragoness. "After we're already underway, that is."
"Smart woman." Joru's hologram moved as if to cut the comm. They were going to loose this opportunity soon.
They were close, yes, very close, but not quite united. Their dual-mind was unsettling and the lack of unity of thought was gnawing at them. "Please, Ambassador."
Vasir blinked up at the body that had once been Veshar as they swallowed and used only one mouth to continue. "Please. If you have time, later, we...would ask something of you."
Joru's brow rose slightly at the twins' outburst. "There will be time to talk once we make rendezvous I'll make sure to seek you out for a chat."
"Thank you," came the perfectly synchronized answer.
The dragoness gave a slight nod, and vanished from view. Vasir sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her face a moment before glancing up at the twins. "What was that about?"
Both bodies glanced into each other's eyes. "We have questions about our... merging."
"Ugh." Vasir got to her feet and, surprisingly, took the twins' hands, looking first into one set of startled-black eyes, then the other. "Look, I don't know what's going on with the two of you or whatever, but I don't want you getting mixed up with that bitch any more than you have to, alright?"
Her waspish tone softened. "She's already done something to you that I can't explain and can't quite get my head around. I don't want it to get worse, whatever it is, alright?"
"We understand perfectly."
"Our ordeal in her realm was anything but pleasant."
"We do not trust her."
"Nor do we hold any gratitude for her."
"Our merging was not her gift or even her intention."
"It was a miracle but also coincidence."
"And we must understand more."
Vasir's head kept bouncing between the twins as they alternated which body they spoke with. Eventually, she sighed, rubbed her temple and gave a soft nod. "Right, I think I get it. Just, whatever you do with her, don't risk yourselves. Self. Whatever."
As the Spectre turned away, they shared a glance, and smiled sweetly as they leaned in and used both voices to murmur quietly in Vasir's ears. "As you wish, Mistress..."
The Spectre gave a soft shudder and groaned, as she stalked away.
Always respect the old man in a profession where most die young.
Steven Hackett was one such man; the most highly decorated and longest serving flag officer in the Systems Alliance, and mentored by Jon Grissom himself, and served during the legend's tour of duty. He was one of the only examples in human history to rise from an enlisted man to wearing an admiral's stars. After almost thirty years, his natural leadership and seasoned experience were known throughout the military, and his word carried substantial political weight. Admiral Hackett was a legend in the Alliance.
And when humanity was invited to join the Council's joint-military expedition to subdue and demilitarize the Batarian Hegemony, Parliament's decision for Hackett to lead the Alliance forces was a unanimous decision.
"Admiral!" called Ensign Jaller. "The enemy's lead ship for their Second Fleet has suffered critical damage, and the crew is offering a surrender. Apparently, they've mutinied against their captain. I believe it may have something to do with the fact they have three minutes of air left."
Hackett gave a small grin. "Excellent, Ensign. Realign weapons to the next target and dispatch pick-up teams."
The war was progressing well, though the last hurdle was always the highest. The Batarian Hegemony had moved to block the joint task force sent to break them, at the edge of their space. When their 'blockade force' had been cut to ribbons and forced to flee, the Hegemony's government had apparently had a panic attack, and withdrawn all space-going forces back to defend the core worlds.
This had left their colony worlds completely undefended, and even now, troop transports were delivering the third and fourth waves of reinforcements to the outlying colony worlds, to finish up the clearing operations on the ground.
Meanwhile, the fight for the relays into the core systems of the Hegemony had been much tougher than breaking through the blockade fleet. The batarians had scavenged everything with a working gun to hold the relay into the Kite's Nest, and had failed. Their morale had broken when the Unassailable Light of Dawn, their flagship and largest dreadnought, had been cored out by the combined firepower of half the Alliance fleet.
Hackett had been proud to give that particular order.
Now, the remnants of the entire Batarian military were in orbit of their home-world, mounting desperation attacks against the joint Alliance/Hierarchy battle fleets in ever increasing fervor, as near-continuous broadcasts from the fortress-cities on the sacred soil of Kar'Shan screamed epithets and exhortations to those in orbit. Even so, without a dreadnought to pose a serious threat, and their cruisers being mostly built to engage smaller craft than themselves, the batarian space-born forces were mostly irrelevant, though still an irritant and potential threat if they decided to go with suicide tactics.
He was expecting to find that those had started happening with each fresh report.
His flagship was performing well. Their shields were rising back up over 85% even as he checked the readout. Like most human warships, the bridge was circular in layout, with numerous console stations around the rim, and himself at the galaxy map in the central pit. This gave a more compact design, and since the CIC was buried in the heart of the warship, instead of at the bow or top of the ship, it made more sense to allow the maximum amount of information to flow to the man in charge.
It was an odd sight, watching Hierarchy ships coordinating with his own. The first time he'd seen those angular, winged ships, they'd been shooting at him, not his enemies. Still, they maintained discipline better than his own command, albeit at the expense of none of their ships moving off station without direct orders to do so. No initiative to seize a closing window of opportunity among them.
Even so, they'd sustained fewer casualties than his own fleet, mostly due to more robust shielding systems. The turians were annoyingly smug about that fact, but the fact that his ships had higher kill-ratios was a point in his favor.
The Turian Seventh Fleet had accompanied his Fifth Fleet all the way to Kar'Shan, and were even now settling into a low orbital 'ball-of-yarn' configuration, to interdict the entire planet. Turian drop-ships hammered into the line like anvils from on-high, even as his own shuttles raced in behind them to disgorge alliance fire-teams and reinforcements. The turian ground forces held the bulk of the main force, while Alliance Marines acted as roving raiders, scouts, and skirmishing forces. He'd reports of dozens of local conflicts from the outlying settlements, but so far, despite nearly two weeks of interdiction and sporadic attacks from the remnants of the highly-touted and much-vaunted Batarian Hegemony Space Fleet, the combined Hierarchy-Alliance fleet utterly dominated the Kar'Shan orbitals. It was only a matter of time before the fortress-cities began to fall.
He shot a glance and suppressed a grin as the new addition to his bridge staff entered the CIC. General Septimus Oraka had made his displeasure known the instant he'd stepped onto the human bridge. Still, he had to admit that the design principle was sound, as Hackett caught another report from a console behind and to his left. "Batarian forces breaking through the outer screen, sir. Two cruisers and three frigates. Vectoring the second cruiser squadron to intercept."
Hackett couldn't help but smirk at the overwhelming military caliber of the Turian forces brought to bear against the Batarians, along with several asari dreadnoughts and salarian strike cruisers. Back when humanity was still lobbying just to get an embassy for the Alliance on the Citadel, there were many proud and stubborn voices in Parliament that were pushing for complete independence from the Citadel races. They believed humanity was not only strong enough to strike out on its own and still become a galactic superpower, but that their victory against the Turians at Shanxi was clearly proof that the Alliance could potentially even defeat the alien's military.
While Hackett was not yet an admiral at the time, he was still a respected rising star of the Alliance military men and his word carried much respect, especially since he was one of the lucky few invited by Jon Grissom himself for his tour of the Council home-worlds Upon their return, both Grissom and Hackett explained in plain terms what a monumentally suicidal idea it was for humanity to go it alone.
The Alliance may have caught the Turians off guard at Shanxi, but that 'invasion force' had not even been one of the Hierarchy's full fleets. Hackett had seen first hand the sheer scale of the Turian armada and their many, many dreadnoughts, not to mention that every Turian citizen was a born soldier. A war with them would also bring the Salarians and their unrivaled intelligence network, including their famed assassins and saboteurs. And to top it off, with the unparalleled wealth and mountains of eezo provided by the Asari Republic, the Turians would never have to worry about managing supplies or logistics.
The Alliance, underdeveloped as it was at the time, would have been sorely outmatched against the united synergy and power of the Citadel Council. Just as the Batarians were outmatched today, with humanity instead as a proud aspiring member to hands.
"Reports are coming in from the frigates." Oraka's flanging tone was a low murmur for Hackett's ears only as the turian stepped up beside the admiral at his command station. "Preliminary bombardment of Hesh'skavr, or however the damn buggers pronounce it, began five minutes ago. The ground forces will begin a push into the fortress-city's outer defenses within the hour."
"I'll make sure our N7 platoons will be the first Alliance forces in, the tip of the spear." Hackett nodded in grim satisfaction. "I'm sure the STG is probably already inside. What's the ETA on Blackwatch and the Serrice Guard?"
"Forty five minutes on the Blackwatch, anywhere from half an hour to an hour for the Guard." The dislike for their lack of punctuality was evident in the old general's tone, as was the pride in the efficiency of his own troops. "The Blackwatch cruiser is angling for a favorable orbit. Once they're aligned, the Blackwatch will deploy and be on the ground five minutes later."
In all his years, most receptions that Hackett received from the turians had ranged between bitter professionalism and outright disdain. When the call to arms against the Hegemony came, Hackett had been half-afraid the turians would want humanity to butt out and to leave it to the 'real' soldiers. Instead, the Alliance received nothing but open respect, courtesy and even gratitude from the Hierarchy's forces. It seemed turian culture had a major influence on they acted during times of war, and how well they respected those who fought alongside them. The bond between soldiers who fought together.
General Septimus Oraka's presence on Hackett's bridge was a particularly surprising but quite welcome gesture of cooperation from the Hierarchy. A decorated war hero respected and honored across Palaven, and here he was joining Hackett to coordinate their forces. The symbolism and weight behind the gesture did not escape the admiral, and it made him hopeful for the future of human-turian relations.
"Then we'll soon be able to put this to rest," Hackett allowed a smile of satisfaction. "The Hegemony has had this coming for far too long."
"Agreed." Something in the turian's tone grated on the ear, and Hackett was starting to pick up on turian emotions from that alone, without having to watch his counterpart's face. "They've been allowed to fester, like a benign cancer. Now, however, they've gone metastatic. And we are here to cut out the tumor."
"I know exactly what you mean." The old admiral inclined his head to his counterpart. "I know that the batarian slavers have been particularly vengeful towards human targets over the last two decades, but I can't imagine how hard it must be for your soldiers to have watched the four-eyed bastards get away with abducting innocent people and being unable to do anything permanent about it for centuries."
"It has been...an exercise in patience, yes." Oraka leaned forward, one hand on the console's edge, gazing at the tactical display with interest. "Curious formation. I've seen batarians do something similar, but never with that many ships. It looks like they're going to try and punch through your lines, here...or there."
He gestured, and Hackett obligingly brought up the tactical map. His eyes narrowed slightly as he spotted something. "Wait... Lieutenant, get on the horn and contact the Second Cruiser Squadron. Tell them to stand off and target the frigates first before taking out that cruiser's engines."
Oraka's stare was a tangible thing as he shot a glance at the turian, and gave a faint smile. "Call it a hunch. I've seen similar tactics used during our second world war."
"Ohh?" The turian seemed interested, and glanced from the man to the tactical display. "It appears to be a standard line-breaker formation, though admittedly with more frigates than would be normal."
"One of the reasons our people despise slavery with such vitriol is because a few of our own nations used to practice before we became a space-faring race and finally closed that dark and shameful chapter of our past." The admiral sighed as he pointed to the holo-display of the batarian formation. "This right here has an awfully familiar resemblance to a stunt pulled by the Imperial Japanese, one of those old nations. I feel they may sacrifice the cruiser to keep the heat off the frigates as they prepare for a more... aggressive maneuver"
"More aggressive? They're nearly crashing into your lines at full burn." Oraka shot him a glance full of sudden surmise.
"It's a kamikaze attack, where suicide pilots ram vessels loaded with explosives into the enemy." Hackett watched the tactical display with a sense of futility, watching as blip after blip representing the frigates vanished from the map.
"...I knew the Batarians were desperate, but to sacrifice entire ships, not to mention the crew..." The general sighed quietly and shook his head before pushing back from the tactical display. "The sooner this war ends, the better. For all sides involved."
"Slave societies such as this are built around an inherent sense of entitlement and superiority," Hackett almost growled. "Every captured Hegemony soldier so far acted as though the universe revolves around the Batarian race. They aren't even denying what they almost did to Terra Nova anymore. Now they're ranting that we have no right to interfere with the 'justice of the Hegemony'. I'm sure this deluded superiority is even worse for their generals and upper class citizens."
"No doubt..." The general cut off as a yeoman came up to the Admiral.
"Sir, message for you from the Comm Center. Captain Anderson is on the line."
Hackett glanced over his shoulder at the name of his protege "Forward it to my quarters, I'll take it once the battle's over."
"It's urgent sir." The yeoman shifted, a bit uncomfortable. "It carries a Priority Zero code...sir."
Priority Zero. Now there was a term he hadn't heard for a long time. In fact, in the history of the Systems Alliance, that code had only been issued once. And that was from Shanxi
"I'll take it in the comm room." He glanced at the turian, who was watching with some interest "General, if you would excuse me."
"Certainly." Oraka turned back to the tactical display as the yeoman hurried off towards the comm room, with Hackett following more sedately behind.
Priority Zero. Anderson must have run into something big.
Septimus blinked down at his omnitool, flicking through its holo-display Hackett paused as the General shot him a startled glance. Two allied flag officers receiving such priority communications at the same time? In the span of a second, they shared a knowing look. Instincts that could only be learned from a lifetime experience of commanding entire armies through the flow of battle told them that the entire game was about to change. And so both generals wordlessly turned away to take their respective messages in private.
The comm room was off the aft side of the CIC, and contained some of the most sophisticated SIGINT and signal processing software and hardware available to the Alliance. He heard that the new class of Dreadnoughts will carry a bluebox quantum computer as standard for their communications needs, which would vastly increase the security of transmissions. As is, he had to make do with the old-fashioned optronic kind.
The comm station itself was a chamber off the far end of the central SIGINT section, roughly half the diameter of the main CIC, and with just enough room for a few people to stand. The comms yeoman was already back at his post, a pair of headphones on to help him work on his task, and also block out any intelligence he wasn't cleared for. Even so, he held one of the highest clearances aboard ship, as he dealt with sensitive data all day long.
Hackett stepped to the comm terminal and cleared his throat. "Steven Victor Hackett, Fifth Fleet Admiral. Voice Authorization: Hudson Eleven-Sixteen-Zero Seven. Apollo Clearance. Decrypt Priority Zero transmission."
The holographic image blinked to life, first with a "Decryption In Progress" label, then with a static-ridden image that cleared into a view of an unusual comms room. Captain Anderson stood in the foreground, his uniform crisp and pressed, along with a forest of medals covering most of his tunic. His salad bar was most of his left breast, while the right was almost entirely covered in decorations, arranged in neat rows, ranging from 'Wounded in Action' bad luck decorations, to "outstanding service" medals, and in such profusion that it fairly dazzled the eye.
"Admiral." The captain's precise salute was as crisp as his uniform, his face grave.
"Captain." Hackett saluted back before letting out a long sigh. "David. You know I'm in the middle of our joint-campaign with the Council against the Hegemony. You know how important this is. Everyone says you're one of our best and brightest, but I know you're even better than that. You of all people wouldn't call for the first Priority Zero situation in three decades unless it was absolutely serious. So give it to me straight."
"The Geth are attacking sir." Dead seriousness colored Anderson's tone. "We just passed a fleet that would dwarf the Alliance Navy, heading through a relay into Council Space. I'm fairly certain they're heading for the Citadel, Sir."
The stark plain words held more than a hint of terror, by their simplicity. "Perhaps you should explain the situation with a little more detail, David. What kind of geth fleet? Is this Saren? And how do you know it's headed for the Citadel?"
Anderson took a breath, evidently martialing his thoughts. "Last thing first: I don't, not exactly. However, I have it on good authority that that's their goal. Saren's behind this, because his flagship is at the head. I'm forwarding you some telemetry we gathered during our raid on Virmire about two months ago."
He tapped a few keys just out of range of the pickup, and the comms officer began working his console in earnest. Anderson's holographic gaze was grave. "As to the size of the fleet, sir... Tens of thousands of vessels. We couldn't positively ID more than around a tenth of the swarm, and that was easily into the four figures. The vast majority of them were small, roughly frigate sized, but there were larger vessels in the fleet as well."
"... Repeat that, Captain Anderson. Did you say tens of thousands of Geth ships? With that two-kilometer monster at the head?"
"I did sir." Now the utterly stony look on his old friend and protege's face made sense. "I have to admit, it was...nerve-wracking We had to drift with the IES and all nonessential systems shut down for nearly three hours as they passed us, Sir."
"May God help us all..." Hackett breathed. He was silent for a long moment, trying to take it in. There was no doubt: This was it. "Has the Spectre on your ship already informed the Council?"
"Yes sir. She was in here only ten minutes ago. I have no idea if the Council believed her, though. She stalked out of here like she wanted to chew a hole in the bulkhead. Sir."
Hackett stared at the sensor logs that Anderson had transmitted. It was true. Thousands of Geth ships led by Sovereign. There was no doubt. The man closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. Then Hackett straightened his posture with resolve, every each a fleet officer and adjusted his admiral's cap. "Alright then, Captain. If the Spectre already has you out there, I assume she has a mission for you and the Normandy?"
"She does sir." The captain seemed a bit anxious as he started to pace. It wasn't too far, and stayed within the pickup, but it was an indicator of how stressed the man was. "We've received intelligence that the traitor, Saren Arterius, is on his way to a Prothean Research World, known as Ilos. The source says he's after some sort of back-door into the Citadel. I'm not quite certain of the specifics, but Vasir has them. Our task is to stop Saren and prevent his attempt at a palace coup. We have a substantial team already aboard and are making best speed to Ilos via the Mu Relay, in the Terminus Systems."
"Decapitation strike." Hackett nodded and straightened, giving his subordinate a direct gaze. "Captain David Anderson. Proceed with your mission with Dark Opal protocols in effect. Do whatever you have to, and so will I."
The captain straightened and gave a serious nod. "Understood sir. Dark Opal confirmed. The mission takes highest priority." Then he relaxed and gave a faint sigh. "I hope I'll see you again, sir. A Dark Opal code is...not something I've looked forward to."
"Get it done, David. We're counting on you. Godspeed."
"Same to you, Sir. I recommend all possible speed, sir, the geth weren't being lazy about their movements"
"Fiat justitia, ruat caelum, Captain." The phrase felt like an ill omen of impending doom. Let Justice Be Done, Though The Heavens Fall.
He gave Anderson a crisp salute, which was returned, before the transmission was cut off. The Admiral turned to go, but before he got there, the door snapped open, revealing a rather grim-looking Oraka. The turian snapped to attention, the steel in his spine almost audibly clicking into place. "Permission to communicate with my fleet, Sir."
The two leaders of men shared another look. They knew. Both of them had received the same news. And both men were about to lead their forces into the greatest and most terrible battle of their generation.
Admiral Steven Hackett nodded, and General Septimus Oraka nodded in turn.
They turned and marched back towards the CIC, where the bustling of reports, orders, and exchanges soothed both men. Oraka took his station to one side of Hackett, while the Admiral stepped up to his command platform.
"Signal the fleet, disengage from the batarians and make all possible speed towards the Relay. Set course for Arcturus." Hackett's voice cut across the chatter like a guillotine. Oraka was voicing similar orders to his own fleets, and the tactical map showed that the Turian Fifth and Seventh Fleets were already responding with acknowledgments
"Sir?" That was from the Captain of the SSV Everest, Hackett's flagship.
"You have your orders." The admiral's steely gaze pinned the captain to the deck with withering force. "Carry them out."
"The Geth Collective are moving to attack the Citadel en masse. Protocol Dark Opal is in effect. The races of the galaxy have called for our help, and today we will deliver. Today, we prove our place here in the galaxy. Effective immediately, the Human Systems Alliance is at DEFCON-1. Today, we prove our place among the stars."
Across the galaxy, the Hierarchy and Alliance militaries soon became a flurry of activity. Orders between admirals were firing back and forth as their fleets were mobilized. Both militaries left several sufficient forces above Khar'shan to keep the Hegemony locked down while the bulk of their armadas were deployed to defend Citadel space.
Both Hackett and Oraka were on course to the Citadel itself at maximum speed. The men and women under their command were anxious but still readily responded with the proud dedication and devotion they had expected of them.
And like a thousand other commanders on a thousand other battlefields, they waited for the dawn.
The damned algorithms kept bugging out on her, but she was narrowing down the possible points of failure. It handled standard action-requests fine, and even the most strenuous tests she could run through them. The problem was the mid-range test packet, which kept failing in strange ways. It was either in the secondary subroutines called to deal with data overflow that didn't have a proper return function, or something about the test packet configuration was bugging out.
Either way, the signal processing hardware was top notch, after the refit. Sam gave the console a soft pat and smile as she worked. She could almost feel EDI's approval.
Her girlfriend (and oh god was that still a novelty, even after nearly two months of bliss) was around here somewhere, hiding under that intriguing optical camouflage cloak of hers. he had insisted, and Same had (reluctantly) agreed, when EDI made it plain that she would be accompanying her to work regardless of Sam's protests. Infiltrator or not, it made the comm specialist very anxious for a while that a walking violation of galactic law would following her to military facilities. So far though, there hadn't been any security breaches, and EDI's helpful insights had occasionally given Sam the clue she'd needed to break through some particularly nasty tech problem. Breakthroughs that had gotten her noticed, then promoted, and now upgrading an Alliance warship's software as it was being refitted for the Batarian campaign.
Which is why she was now assigned to this refit. Getting the old ship's comm systems upgraded to current standards was enjoyable and exciting work, seeing how the new architecture interacted with the old hardware and the new software, getting things to run properly and speedily was a great challenge.
Of course, the computing hardware she was working with on her job, didn't hold a candle to the hardware she came home to...
Damnit, Sam focus! The signal processing software wasn't finished yet! You can fantasize about your robotic lover later.
She stiffened slightly as a cool metallic hand slithered across the back of her neck, slowly massaging her a little, before slipping away again. Sam gave a soft sigh and mouthed "thank you" before returning to the task at hand.
EDI was always so attentive, it made her heart melt. The young comm specialist had to admit, having such a tender and devoted companion always at her side had done wonders for her self-esteem and anxiety issues. Sam's mind had much more focus on her work these days.
Sure enough, her head cleared a little after EDI's silent reassurance. Now then, the ship's systems had been having trouble finding and processing the instructed coding of the new software overhaul, causing stack overflow. One of many different kinds of programming compatibility issues. If the hash-map data structure she had been trying to assemble wouldn't make the ship's systems able to cooperate, then solving the programming issue in linear time and constant space would require... Sam blinked, and could have slapped herself. Of course, Floyd's Tortoise and Hare algorithm! How could she have missed such an obvious solution!
She dove back into the code with renewed zeal, only half-aware of the standard-issue paper cup of water that appeared at her elbow, just in time to quench her thirst. The tap on her shoulder certainly wasn't EDI, though, and she blinked up into Natalie's amused smile. "Having fun?"
"Just a moment Nat, I think I might have fixed the Pigeonhole Principle issue." Sam lifted one finger to her friend as she smiled. Her fingers flew across the holo-interface. After another five lines of code, she entered the solution. The result appeared on the screen. And just like that, the problem was fixed in an instant. "Heh... HA! It works!"
"Great, well, if you're done with that, you should have clocked out for lunch nearly half an hour ago." Natalie's smirk of amusement was undaunted by Sam's unamused look.
"Alright, laugh it up. At least I managed to finish the trickiest part of the installation." Sam stretched a little, flexing her hands over her head in a manner that provoked a soft caress from her invisible watcher. "But, I guess I am feeling a bit peckish."
"Great, I found this neat little hole-in-the-wall place." Natalie gave a grin as Sam slid out of her chair. "They've got an interesting take on the usual burrito wraps."
"Burri-no! No no, nuh-uh. My stomach doesn't handle those well. As in, 'not-fit-for-duty' well." Sam grimaced at the college memory. That had been one horrible week. "I just need to visit the loo and then I'll grab a few nutrition bars I packed."
"Spoilsport." Nat blew her a raspberry, but grinned. "The nice thing about this place is that they might use burrito-wrap tortillas, but they use normal things like peanut butter and jelly, or whatever it is you like. Very flexible, and not at all uptight about the 'purity of the cuisine'."
She smothered a giggle as Sam passed her and followed the other woman out of the compartment. "So really, Sam, I think you ought to give them a try at least once."
"Well... I'll keep it in mind, but the last time I tried without being sure kept me wheezing on the couch for several days as my insides were making complaints in kinds of unpleasant ways."
A gentle caress of a cool finger against her palm shifted Sam's right hand as her invisible guardian gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Natalie shrugged and gave a grin as Sam turned towards the bathroom. "Whatever, I'll meet you in the airlock alright?"
The door slid open as Sam stepped inside, and a quick glance showed that she (mercifully) had the head to herself. Before she could do more than take a soft breath, a quiet chime sounded as the door locked itself, and between two glances, EDI had appeared. The glorious silver goddess was...god, she was wearing Alliance BDUs, and Sam hadn't realized just how mouthwateringly sexy EDI could make the somewhat shapeless uniform look.
Actually, it was far from the first time she had seen the gynoid 'wear' a professional Alliance uniform, but like with everything else, EDI apparently knew the trick of doing something a thousand times and it would somehow still be as fresh and new to Sam as if she were seeing it for the first time. And so she was trying not to drool as she drank in the sight.
Somehow her AI girlfriend managed to fill out her BDUs with her heavenly curves in a way that made the uniform look like it was designed for asari, or pornstars. She smiled, her silver lips gleaming in the soft light of the rather...cramped compartment. "I have prepared your meal, Sam."
God, just the way EDI spoke was getting sexier. The soft, electronic burr to her voice, the purely human tones, and the soothing cadences all did things to stir Sam's heart. But not quite as much as the sight of EDI carefully unzipping her uniform, down past her navel, displaying a glorious expanse of gleaming-silver cleavage.
Oh heaven help her, she loved this woman.
Sam let out a shaky breath, shivering from climbing desire for her magnificent, impossible lover. Her hands traveled up EDI's waist, teased the sides of her bountiful chest and the traced over her smooth neck with one hand while running the other through the gynoid's fine hair. She didn't hesitate to pull her in for a deep kiss.
The silver woman in the seemingly mundane military outfit eagerly reciprocated, one hand caressing around Sam's waist while the other gently cradled Sam's head, holding her close as EDI lavished such soft, sweet, cool, metallic kisses, the feel of her soft, wonderfully devious tongue caressing Sam's own, the cool taste of her inhuman construction...
"Mmmmm... EDI..." Sam moaned before letting out a chuckle. "Not even five seconds once we're alone and you can't keep your hands off me, huh?"
"I am merely maximizing your enjoyment of our time together. We get so little of it, while you are at work." EDI's tone was lightly teasing, as the silver-handed gynoid tenderly held Sam close. "I...miss being able to hold you."
"And I you," the young woman smiled, lightly cupping EDI's shapely hip. "But I know that you are never far away. That you are always so close..."
The gynoid smiled tenderly, shifting to press close against her treasured human. "I will always be with you, Sam. As long as you will have me."
"Oh, stop saying that, EDI, you'll never have to worry about that," she grinned affectionately with a slight tease in her voice. "Besides, there's all kinds of ways that I love to have you..."
The silver woman smiled softly before drawing Sam back into another soft, hungry kiss. EDI loved kisses, she loved exploring Sam's mouth with her tongue, just as much as Sam loved having EDI's wonderfully flexible, smooth metallic tongue in her mouth, teasing her, filling her mouth with the taste of metal...
And then she was pulling back, something EDI never did on her own, leaving Sam gasping. Then she realized what she was hearing.
"General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands, man your action stations! Secure stations for immediate departure. This is not a drill. Additional personnel: report to duty officer for temporary reassignment."
The bliss and euphoria vanished like a snowball in the desert as realization dawned. That was the alarm for battle stations. But that... it couldn't be... it wasn't...
Sam turned her eyes back to her partner. "I... EDI?"
"Go, Sam. I will be with you." She shot Sam a look of concern, and with that, she was gone. No trace of her seemed to remain, but her touch was still on Sam's arm for a moment longer.
For the first time, it didn't reassure Sam nearly as much. She rushed out of the restroom as fast as she could, once EDI unlocked it. She joined Alliance R&D for the challenges and top-of-the-line tech, not for danger and explosions. If the ship was making ready for battle, then she and EDI had to leave immediately!
She almost ran into a rushing crewman, who grabbed her to steady her, made sure she was alright, then headed off at a dead sprint. Right, left, then left again at the cross junction to reach the airlock. There was already a pandemonium of activity going on, with crewmen rushing every which way, though mostly up along the corridors and down ladders.
The airlock was just around a corner when she almost ran into a sergeant "Whoa, where're you going?"
"Oh! Sergeant, sir!" Sam quickly managed to snap a respectable salute. "Comm Specialist Traynor, I was part of the group of techs that arrived a few days ago to make a few software upgrades. Don't worry, we'll be out of your hair shortly!"
"Additional personnel should report to the duty officer, didn't you hear the orders?" The man frowned at her, and took a step forwards, just as Natalie rounded the corner looking stunned.
"What? No! No, no! We're just a handful of lab techies! This isn't our station, we're not even supposed to be serving in a combat role!"
"Sam..." Natalie's voice is gentle, if a little shocked. "...We're already underway..."
"...Underway?" Sam slowly turned to stare uncomprehendingly at her friend. Then she looked back at the sergeant. "Underway?!"
"I'm sorry Specialist." The man's face was stony now. "If you'll follow me..."
She found herself nodding mechanically as she started to follow the sergeant in a daze. She still could hardly process what was happening. "Nat, you mean the ship is already moving? As in, gun the engines and go? Full speed ahead?"
"Yeah.." The other woman swallowed, still looking shocked. "I was... I was in the airlock when they broke from the station. I almost... I..."
Nat's voice had been growing steadily more and more emotional until her voice finally locked up around that last word. The sergeant led them down two ladders and through a cross-corridor, dodging servicemen, though the flow of them here seemed to slow to a trickle. He paused at a hatch and waited for it to cycle before saluting an officer that popped through it. "Two stragglers sir, tech specialists working on the refit."
"At ease, sergeant, return to your duty station, I'll take things from here." The man was an NCO, and a duty officer by his insignia. He waited until the sergeant had gone back the way he'd lead them before addressing the two women. "You two are tech specialists? We could use you in fire control, we haven't quite got the bugs worked out of the new systems."
"That's because they weren't finished!" Sam blurted out her fear in a rapid spate of words. "We weren't even on that section, we were working the comms upgrades-"
"Good." The duty officer cut her off with a nod. "Then you can be assigned there for now. Dark Opal has been issued."
Sam blanched. Dark Opal? That was for a galactic crisis. Most restrictions would be dropped in favor of emergency protocols and all means available were put into effect. Oh god. With Dark Opal in effect, they weren't going anywhere.
She was trapped on a warship going into battle.
"But...! But how?" Natalie tried to keep her voice under control. "What could those Batarian bastards possibly have done to warrant all this?"
"This isn't the batarians." The words she had been dreading ever since a certain woman had walked into her life were finally spoken. "The Geth have mobilized. They're en-route into Citadel space, possibly even to the Citadel itself. We're joining the Fifth Fleet shortly, then deploying as soon as the Admiral arrives. He's currently en-route from the Kite's Nest."
The Batarian homeworlds were in the Kite's Nest. They'd abandoned the war for this...
"The Geth... oh heavens..." Natalie paled. "Those synthetic killers, they... they killed my brother on Eden Prime six months ago. I... I'll get to work immediately. Sir."
"Very good, Specialist. You have your orders."
Sam felt the blood seep from her face. The Geth. While she had always been a private supporter of A.I.'s, especially in the last few months, something about the Geth terrified her to the core. No emotion or empathy. Cold, heartless shells. Attacking human colonies with the ruthlessness of a machine.
And now she was being taken into a Dark Opal-scale battle with them. Her heart beat with a slowly growing sense of dread and terror. She didn't know why, she had never felt like this before, what was she going to...!
A gentle, but firm hand touched the back of her neck, a soft, gentle squeeze of a cool, inhuman hand. EDI was with her, as she said she would be. The thought of her invisible protector staved off the incipient panic attack, and Sam took a deeper breath as she felt EDI slowly massaging her neck and shoulders. Sam gave a soft whisper as EDI's arms slid around her waist, hugging her softly, "Thank you."
EDI remained silent, but reluctantly let her human go as the duty officer turned and lead the way towards the comms section. "Through here, down the corridor to the left. Third hatch on the left side."
Yes. Compartmentalize. Focus on the work. Good idea.
Sam followed the duty officer to the comms center where she could do the most good. At least she'd be in her element there. And with EDI always close by, then perhaps things might turn out all right after all.
The comms center was a room radiating off the main CIC. Its walls were lined with comm stations, and an extra set of consoles sat in the center of the room as well, giving a full thirty six comm stations, and almost every single one of them was full. The duty officer here looked up and exchanged a few words with the man that had lead them here, which Sam couldn't focus on right now.
She had been in here a few times during the refit, to double-check and make sure the new comm interface setup was working properly, but once they got the UI set up in a manner that the comms techs could use, they buckled down to the nitty-gritty of getting the signals processing software to play nice with the older hardware.
The form-fitting seat embraced Sam from shoulders to knees, fitting if not like a glove, at least highly comfortably. It took her a couple minutes to notice the serviceman beside her had already strapped into his seat, and it took Sam a few seconds to figure out how to attach the harness.
She was just getting settled in and checking out the interface when the PA system blared to life once more.
"Now hear this, now hear this. This is the Captain. We are en-route to the Citadel by the fastest possible means. The Fifth Fleet is deploying to face immanent Geth invasion, and we are to be a part of it. I won't lie to you, we are outnumbered and outgunned. We are running under Dark Opal orders from Admiral Hackett himself. As such, I expect this ship, this crew, to give everything they can. Our survival is not guaranteed, but we shall do our duty to the utmost. And if the sacrifice of this ship, the SSV Madrid, becomes necessary to defend the Citadel, then I salute you, and will be proud to call you my friends, when we all meet in the clearing. That is all."
The public address system went silent, and Natalie's soft gulp was clearly audible to Sam, even as EDI's gently arms slid around the human's waist once more.