Destiny Lost

by Twisted Fate MK 2

The Gods left remnant together, with the statement they would never return to it or influence it. Only, that wasn't true, was it? The God of light, ever the hypocrite and liar, didn't abandon Remnant. Instead, he reincarnated someone to do his bidding and bring Remnant to them. Cue, the now dead Pyrrha Nikos and the God of Darkness' ideas. / Supporter Requested by Espacole

3. Chapter 3

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'Grief is a human emotion, as human as any other. It's perfectly normal to feel it, to be broken by it even, if only for a time.' Pyrrha remembered her sister saying on the day the Mistralian commander had come, from some far flung military garrison her mother had dove into the fray to save, allowing herself to be overwhelmed and consumed by the black tide so that the Mistralian soldiers and civilians could flee to safety. 'But you can't let it control you. Instead, let it fuel you, and pour all the pain and grief into training. All the better to protect your loved ones from losing you and feeling the same ache.'

'How?' She'd asked, looking to her oldest sister, armored and regaliad as befitting a Mistralian Huntress, red sash tied around her waist.

'Take what happened, think about it, and imagine if you were there.' When Pyrrha nodded that she had, her sister asked, 'Could you have changed what happened, as the person you are now?'

'N-No…'

'Then take those emotions, and put them on a shelf where they can't reach you. Way up high, out of reach.' Her sister explained simply, 'And then work yourself until you are the kind of person who could have changed what happened.'

'I-Is that… Could I have helped mother?' She'd asked, nervous but hopeful, smiling in the way a child did in response to an adult's warm smile.

'Of course, little Pyrrha.' She answered simply, 'A Huntress can do anything if she trains hard enough. So train, train, train… Until you are stronger than anything that could possibly dare to step in front of you.'

Even nine years old, Pyrrha had taken the advice to heart, and the next day she and her oldest sister had trained together. Until her missing her mother was covered by the pain of muscles overspent, bruises well beaten into her, and bandages tied taut around her arms and legs where the practice weapon had bitten a bit deeper. She hadn't cared, though. It was a better ache than the one in her heart, that made her chest tight and her throat constrict.

With that had come a love of training, the challenge of it. Then, when that challenge faded, a love of tournament fighting, where she had again thrown her entire being. And so the 'Invincible Girl' had been born, domineering in tournaments and dominating on leaderboards. That had brought a new grief, one rectified eventually for a seemingly blissful time, and now it resulted in yet another kind of ache.

And as before, she hurled herself into training to escape it, rather than wallow in baths and cry her heart out. As admittedly cathartic as that had, in honest fact, been it wasn't actually a constructive path. Or at least, so it was for a Huntress, who every Nikos knew carried the world on their backs. It didn't orbit around them.

And so, she trained and drilled, to prepare herself for… Well, normally it would be for Grimm, but now she didn't know. Regardless, something would no doubt come, and she would need to be at her best, even if the threat wound up merely being organics - as the machine would say - who hold too much hatred for her Geth companion. She would not allow ignorant, angry minds to kill her friend. And so she would train, to protect him and herself, if from different enemies.

The room she'd been given came with a clock that, at her words, would see her awake to chiming bells each morning and alert her when it was time to sleep each evening. A shower was her first order of business, followed by a small meal, and then the start to an exercise regimen that, while somewhat lax by her standards when she was in a state such as she was, would keep her well enough in shape to be useful. Even if she lacked any real workout attire, her black under armor clothing would more than suffice for the task.

It wasn't like Legion would stare at the exposed skin or tight, form fitted clothing, after all. And needs must, beside. As they had on the fighter, for all that time, when she'd stripped down to clean herself or her clothing. While she'd never been nude, too modest as she would say it, she'd tended to end up as she was now. Her modesty was a concern too ingrained in her, as a person, to ignore.

But it was a civilian one, and one she had numerous times shaken off. Finally, she'd shaken off that inner conflict once again, and chided herself for thinking like a child, like a civilian even, and set to work properly.

The weights Legion had procured weren't sufficient for weight training - Nora had long and well ruined normal weights for the woman, though remembering that was bittersweet at best - but they were excellent for crunching, sprinting and Semblance practice. For weight and endurance training, her eyes turned to the heavy crates, full of electronics, spare parts she couldn't identify - to the point of assuming they were spare parts, even - and, in a few cases, rations of water and food for her. The crates were heavy steel, industrially rugged, and heavy enough even she grunted from effort in picking them up.

In short? They were perfect for her to break herself working out over, to harden into something better than she had been.

Victory was non-negotiable, after all. Particularly when the lives of her loved ones and the innocent behind her counted on it. In Beacon, she'd failed.

On Omega she would not. And so she would train.

Closer to a month later than she'd hoped, lying in her bed while the majority of her clothes were washing nearby and she napped boredly, she felt the ship shudder gently around her. A feeling that reverberated through the ship around her almost, but distinctly not quite, violently. It was as though the entire ship had been taken in hand and, albeit gently, shaken. Like a friend shaking her awake, she thought as she rolled on the bed and looked around, waking up from her nap as her mind caught up to what was happening.

Instinctively to her, it was a worrying sensation that screamed to her almost primally - and definitely irrationally - of the ship coming to pieces, to empty her out into the frozen, deadly cold of space that, while she didn't know what it would do for sure, didn't seem a welcoming place. Else, why would the ship lack opening windows among other things?

But rationally, and her trained discipline made leaning on rationality an easy enough task, she recognized the sensation from when she'd been left on the ship. A ship had docked with hers, and that had her on her feet inside a moment.

Most of her clothing was in the wash, leaving her in her shorts and undershirt, but she didn't care for the moment. Too excited was she to have someone, anyone, to talk to again after so long all by herself. So excited, in fact, that for once modesty didn't even occur to her to be concerned about. Turning the corner of her door and looking down the hall to the cargo hold, she blinked in momentary confusion.

"Nikos, Huntress." The same voice called, flashlight face snapping around to her, flanges flicking in what she guessed to be surprise. Or relief. It was impossible to tell, really, with its lack of… Well, basically everything that would let someone read a person's mood, really.

But as the newly re-armored and patched machine turned to her, she felt it was looking her over. "You appear to be healthy. Though your complexion has paled since we encountered you on Eden Prime."

"I… Well, I haven't exactly seen the sun in a month, it feels like." She smiled, crossing her arms over a bust that… She realized was not very well covered only now, though she barely cared at the moment. Swallowing her embarrassment, she asked, "Did your trip go well? I noticed your, er, body looks a bit better."

"We conducted repairs en route to meet the ship we left you on." The machine answered in an almost, but not quite, defensive sounding voice, its flanged head flicking and twitching in response. "The armor was discovered at the location, and is of sufficient quality for military use. It was abandoned in the crash location… And there was a hole."

"It looks good on you, Legion." She assured him, giving the blak and red armor a look and a nod for his benefit. It really did, though part of the right side near the bottom was missing, exposing the sides of cauterised cabling. After a moment, she spotted something on the armor and her brows furrowed in mild confusion, "What does 'N7' mean, though? The symbol is on your chest and shoulder."

"N7 is a military vocational designation used by the Human Systems Alliance. The 'N' signifies a special forces applicable role in their vocational job training, though what precisely that entails can vary." Legion explained, leaving the obvious - like how a Biotic, for she'd read on them with how Legion had brought them up, would receive was different to anyone else - out entirely. "The numerical designations ranging from '1' and through '7' classify stages of completed training and officiation, with the latter being the highest grade, meaning one has completed the entire Interplanetary Combatives Training program and is thus ready for deployment. The designation is also unique as Alliance personnel may wear it on their uniforms, and further, it is not earned by course training but instead by life fire and stress-endurance exercises including oxygen deprivation."

"That… Sounds impressive, I suppose, though I don't truly understand all of what that would entail." She knew Mistral trained a special forces regiment in a similar, albeit planetary locked obviously, fashion. And so a military training regimen of high caliber was at least somewhat self-explanatory. "I myself was only a trainee as a Huntress, though I was top of my class and a tournament champion as well."

"That is good." Legion remarked simply, "Omega will likely involve violent altercations."

"Are you…" She paused, searching for a word other than 'allowed' as she knew technically Geth weren't allowed anywhere. After a moment she grimaced and sighed, "Are your kind not allowed on Omega, Legion? I know that most places are, well… Not friendly to you, to say the least."

"The overall governing body does not care so long as we go to them first, but the people on the station might." Legion answered simply, turning to begin making its way towards Pyrrha and then past her, towards the piloting section. "According to the time, it is early morning. Are you rested, Nikos?"

"Just call me Pyrrha, please." Nikos was too formal for her liking, really. Even in her early days, she'd disliked the 'miss Nikos' she got so often. And while Legion seemed to swap between her first and last name, she trusted he'd acquiesce to her request. "And I am quite rested, yes. Why do you ask?"

"We are at the Relay into the Omega system, and it will take only an hour to reach the station on arrival." The machine informed her simply, turning to look over its newly armored shoulder at her. With a flick of its flanges it asked, sounding amused, "Did you not notice that the ship was moving since approximately two weeks prior?"

"I… Well, no, I did not." How could she have, really? She'd not felt any changes, at least. Waving the entire problem off she sighed and chuckled dryly, "I can be ready inside fifteen minutes, Legion. Just let me know and I'll be ready to head out with you."

"Acknowledged." The machine, well, acknowledged before turning and leaving her in the hallway.

Stretching her arms high overhead, using one hand to pull and stretch her shield arm, she sighed. Then, she smiled excitedly and bounded into her room, grabbing her leather bodice and setting to work checking and rechecking it over and over before moving on to the next piece. Finally, a chance to get out of a space ship and onto something larger. She couldn't wait to explore, the first woman from Remnant to ever set foot on an alien space station!

It was exhilarating.

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Omega was disgusting, Pyrrha decided virtually as soon as they'd docked in the upper sections and stepped off onto the foul smelling station.

The entire station, or each and every last one of the winding halls they passed through from the docking sections at least, was filthy. Covered in dirt, piled detritus and random points, and old, rusted cabling and piping along the walls and ceiling. The people they passed in the moderately large hallways were filthy, wearing dirty clothes, some sporting bandages, and many smelling stronger than the station around them. They were dregs and poor-bodies, she knew the look and smell both from her time in Mistral's upper tiers, where she'd trained with Mistralian soldiers. Occasionally she'd seen people like these, when they'd be taken down with the military trainers to patrol the lower tiers. Then and now, she felt shame at how grateful she was when they inevitably pressed away from them, giving the machine a wide berth and wary stares but largely ignoring the armored woman at its side. Most of them weren't Human, though that had been the same in Mistral, as much the same, in fact, as the look of poverty and desperation on their often malnourished bodies and in their eyes.

As with the Faunus then, she wanted to help them. Her oaths as a Huntress bid her to, but she had not the foggiest idea how to manage it any more now than she had then. Now, though, she had someone she could ask.

"Legion," she started, moving to the machine's more naturally Geth side, "these people-"

"Would not accept help from an Organic they did not know, much less from a Geth, Pyrrha." The machine interrupted gently, quietly even. Like it was afraid to be overhead, somehow, above the murmuring of the people around them and the mechanical sounds that overlapped even that. In that same voice, the machine went on, "We would help them, otherwise, if we could. But further than their ninety-three percent approximate probable refusal rate, Aria T'Loak would likely see it as a move against her."

"Helping people?"

"Doing anything without explicit permission is against Omega law." Legion corrected gently, turning only enough to get Pyrrha into its sight. After a moment of consideration, and a flick of its metal flanges, it add. "If you wish to undergo charity operations, we will supply support as needed."

"I..." She wanted to, to stay and help these people seemed an easy choice. An obvious one, even. "I have no Lien- Credits, rather. Nor do I have friends to help me here on the station, because I know you will have to leave."

"We are... Friends?"

"I would say so, yes. If you would, at least." Not nearly the kinds of friends that she'd had in Beacon, of course. Such took time and effort, she knew, and the Geth was kind and gentle in a way that seemed surprising, given his mechanical nature. When it seemed to hesitate, she sighed and spoke. "My friend- My partner, rather, he had a saying. 'Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet'. We have more than met, and I would hardly call us enemies."

"Friends… Friends." The machine repeated, flanges twitching rapidly at the word, like it was testing it. Finally, its head bobbed slightly and its flanges stilled as they stepped out onto a wide, open area. And it said one, single word. "Acknowledged. And we have arrived at Afterlife, where we will meet Aria T'Loak."

"Lead the way, then, Legion." She nodded, rolling her shoulders reflexively as the line of waiters outside noticed them. Some cat called her, which she was used to, and some hurled insults and slurs at her mechanical companion.

Those she was… Less used to.

The Mistralian felt Afterlife far before she saw the second door open, the guards waving them in as they approached. The club thrummed and thumped like a thing alive, enough to have her grimace in discomfort when the second set of doors slid open. Inside was cleaner, at least in the sense of grime, rust and dirt that had soiled the outside. The people were more cleanly dressed as well, for those who were dressed and not dancing, blue skinned and nude, on tables or poles around the club. Humans were as well, of course, as well as a strange, birdlike alien towards the back, on top of a table where four bulkier versions of the same sat cheering, but the majority were, according to Legion's explanations weeks prior, Asari.

There were plenty of uniforms, too. Bright blues, reds, greens, silvers, all smattered around the bar and clustered together at tables. Most were armed, she guess from the blocks on their backs that all looked similar, if not quite the same, as Legion's rifle when it was collapsed for travel. And she'd toured enough of Mistral's outer, periphery settlements to recognize mercenaries when she saw them.

And the way they moved, like liquid almost, made her wonder why they didn't take up the job of fighting. Or rather, if they had in the past, and chose to come here after.

The dancing around the club slowed, but never really stopped, as the Geth walked by towards the raised platform at the back of the room where a figure stood. Whether the figure was watching the club or them, Pyrrha couldn't be sure, but she had a feeling on which it actually was.

"Weapons, Geth." The alien - a Turian, from pictures Legion had shown her in their first weeks together - demanded as they walked to the base of the ramp up on the far side. Legion didn't comment, simply handing over its pistol, and the alien gave Pyrrha's sword a look and snorted as she handed it over. "A sword? Really?"

"It does the jobs I need it to do, yes. And their names are Milo and Akuo, though I… Do not know how much named weapons matter to you." She rambled, watching the Turian shrug uncaringly and hand the collection off to a Batarian behind him, who dumped them unceremoniously in a bin on the floor and snorted at her affronted expression.

"They'll be fine, if they're worth a damn as weapons." The Turian snapped, turning to Legion at her side, "And you. You the same one that came around, a couple months back? Asking about... Asking about that dead Alliance woman, right?"

"Affirmative." Legion answered, "This unit has been dubbed 'Legion' by Pyrrha Nikos. We are a terminal of the Geth."

"Reason for coming?"

"We wished to ask new questions of Aria T'Loak." The machine answered mechanically, adding after a second, "We brought Geth technology to trade, as per our previous agreements with your employer. Our intentions are peaceful."

"Uh huh, uh huh… Where'd you get the girl, then?" The Turian's mandibles flanged like Legion's did, though she was certain they meant different things by the gestures. Before Legion could answer, he asked her, "Where'd the battery operated bastard take you from, huh? He buy you off some slavers? 'Cus Omega is a lotta things, but we don't tolerate Spirits depraved slavers around-"

"No! No, I'm not… Not a slave." Gods, they had slavery to contend with? What manner of galaxy had she wound up in? Taking a breath, the Mistralian explained as best she could, keeping out the more… Fantastical elements. The Turian, for all his brutishness, seemed oddly concerned and good intentioned, but that didn't mean he'd buy any story she spun. "We met on a planet- a Human one, I mean. He was damaged by a local garrison, and saved me from a-a… Woman."

"A…" The alien paused, unsure now she'd defended the Geth so openly, "A woman? Who was attacking you?"

"Yes." Pyrrha answered, sliding into a truth to fit her lie. It made her sick to do it, but she wouldn't let Legion be insulted this way when she could fix it. And the truth would be called insanity, and likely worsen the situation, regardless. "Dark haired, and with amber eyes. She had… Abilities I'd never had to fight before. Hurled herself around, hit me with what felt like fire, I… Legion saved me. I would have died."

"Like fire…?"

"Sounds like biotics to me, shit looks and feels like fire if ya don't know the difference." The Batarian grunted, swaggering forward and cocking its head to the side. Four eyes narrowed on the two of them, both pairs flicking between woman and machine. "So what, he saved your ass all banged up, so you saved his?"

"Yes, he did. Though, all my saving constituted was covering him while we ran, so I feel undeserving of much credit." It was a rather close end point to the true story, really. And she had zero doubts Legion would face Cinder if the fight came back around to knock. Seizing the moment, she added, "The Geth aren't a bad people. No more than anyone else, and Legion has been nothing but kind to me."

"Our intentions are peaceful." Legion reiterated, "And further, we seek understanding of Organic species, in hopes of facilitating negotiations and agreements. We wish only to pursue that understanding. And Pyrrha Nikos has offered to help us do that. We are grateful, and would never harm her."

"Well, isn't that just the quaintest, sweetest little story I've heard all week." A voice, smooth and chilling, called out from atop the ramp. The Asari woman descending waved for her guards to disperse and they did, moving several feet away where they could watch for any attempts against the woman but, Pyrrha was sure with the incessant music, not hear them speaking. Smiling a toothy smile, the woman, Aria Pyrrha now assumed, asked, "Legion was it?"

"Affirmative."

"Great, Legion then. Come on, if we're to talk about business we'll do it where I can sit, at least." She turned, waving a hand over her shoulder for them to follow and, after a moment, they did.

By the time they got up into the box, where the music was muted by the thick glass, Aria was sitting on the long cough with a leg resting on her knee and her arms stretched along the back to either side. Legion came to a stop a few feet in front of her, at the center of the room, and Pyrrha stood beside him unsurely.

"Sit down, girl, you don't have to stand there looking like a freshman up to slaughter at a frat house or something." Aria ordered, waiting until the Mistralian had sat beside the door opposite the one she'd come in to sigh and turn to the Geth. "You're here, so I'm going to hazard a wild guess and say my information was on the money?"

"Affirmative."

"Yeah… That her armor, then? No word of another N7 Human or Alliance ship giving up the ghost to the black in that sector, I'd have heard about it." The Geth nodded its head slightly and Aria sighed, grimacing and shaking her head. When she spoke next, her voice was laced with agitation and her face was a mask, flat and plain as though hiding something. What, Pyrrha would never know, she was sure. Only that there was something she didn't want to show. "Damn it… And you got that armor, so I'm guessing you scavenged it to wear. That about right?"

"There was a hole..."

"Yeah, and you patched it with dead Shepard's armor- Fuck!" Aria leaned forward, shaking her head gently and clasping her hands together. "The Collectors? They do it? I heard rumors they were in the sector when the Normandy went down."

"The ship sections showed signs of intensive thermal lance damage, which is not the norm for any Terminus mercenaries or pirates." Legion answered simply, "Further, the site was not looted as pirates or mercenaries would do, and to destroy the ship so completely precludes efficient slaving tactics. Removing these variables, it is likeliest that the Collectors struck the Normandy, and they have the technology to do so by all evidence."

"Motive?"

"Unknown." Legion answered, waiting through the woman's swear before moving on. "Given their preexisting habit of collecting unique technologies and individuals for study, however, it is possible they wanted to capture Shepard for examination and experimentation."

"Her armor was there, though, so they couldn't have." The sentence was as much of a question as a statement, and Aria's brow rose with it. "You… Didn't find any of the body, did you?"

"It is possible it burned up on reentry, thin atmosphere or not."

"The armor survived, though. Could parts of her have?" Aria demanded, voice low and even, though Pyrrha could feel the hate and anger there as she spoke. "Did the Collectors collect Jane fucking Shepard for their damn experiments?"

"Insufficient data available to draw reasonable conclusions."

"Fucking of course- Corvex! Get your useless, Turian ass up here!" Aria shouted, waiting until the Turian from earlier jogged up the ramp to see what she wanted. Pointing at the alien, she ordered, "I want you to grab some men, and notify the mercenaries. Anyone dealing with Collectors will be evicted from the station via the nearest airlock. Understood?"

"Yes, Aria."

The Turian turned to leave at a dismissive wave from the Asari, and Aria leaned back, letting them sit in silence for a while. Not an uncomfortable silence, surprisingly, but rather a cool one while the blue woman seemed to collect herself. A silence that passed for several minutes, long enough for the club's song to change to something with a somehow faster beat, albeit lower and more withdrawn.

"We're even on the information, then, as we agreed. And you are allowed to achor at omega when you need to. I give you that much, but I can't guarantee how the gangs act. Understood, both of you?" They nodded and Aria mirrored the gesture, "Good, good. Now, what do you need now? Or did you only come to give me your findings in person?"

"We are seeking the location of Shepard, Commander's team members. All have been located aside from one." Legion answered simply, "Do you know of a Garrus Vakarian?"

"Vakarian?" She paused to think and then shook her head, shrugging. "We get a lot of Turians, but that name doesn't stand out as one of mine. Ask the Suns, though. He might have checked in with them, never know. Though actually, don't, the Suns might not be friendly to a Geth in their territory."

"Acknowledged."

"I'll ask around, though, and you'll hear from me if I find anything out." She promised, sighing and shaking her head. A finer rose and wagged at the Geth playfully, and she smiled, adding, "No charge up front, on that, though. Since I don't know how it'll turn out for you. Wouldn't be fair, charging you for nothing."

"We are grateful for fair dealings, Aria T'Loak." Legion nodded, flanges flicking in consideration for a moment. Whatever it had been thinking about, it kept to itself, instead asking its next question. "What do you know of a planet named 'Remnant'? It would likely not be in Alliance space or Citadel space, as we have checked their survey reports."

"Legion-"

"Our companion originally hails from there and, if possible, we would offer to return her to her home planet. But such an offer would be a falsehood if we did not know where the planet was." Legion explained, as much for Aria's benefit and Pyrrha's. Good intentioned and trying to help, she knew from their past interactions, though she was angry, in a way, that he hadn't asked first.

"Second verse, same as the first." Aria sing-songed boredly, raising her brows, "Next?"

"We would like to purchase Pyrrha Nikos a better under armor suit to wear, but the merchants on Omega will not service us." Legion explained, this time on a topic Pyrrha was happy he was asking about.

She had need of an armored undersuit, she knew from Legion that they could protect her from space and, while she didn't know much about space, she would like that. She'd have been lying if she said being on space ships and space stations didn't terrify her. But she supposed dying already kind of tempered any intense reactions to fear, now. Understandable, she hoped, and not a sign of some deeper trauma she had no clue how to deal with.

"Give me the credits and sizing, I'll put a man on it. Doing it as thanks for you coming in to tell me about Shepard, and I'm in a good damn mood, but don't get used to it." She nodded, waving her hand in a circle for them to move on. "Got shit to do, so are you done or what?"

"We have one final question." The machine responded simply, the Asari in front of them furrowing her brows at the question. Either in confusion or for some other reason Pyrrha was, once again, not sure. "What do you know about the Reapers? Boards on the Extranet show evidence of a Reaper in the Hawking Eta region. We are interested in it."

"I'll look into it, stick around for, say, a week and come see me again." She promised them, dismissing them moments after when they told her they had nothing else to talk about.

"Oh and one other thing." She called, just before they could leave, her eyes meeting Pyrrha's, "You interest me. Might be the resemblance to Shepard, but… If you need anything, you come talk to me. My guards won't raise a fuss, you can count on that. I hope you enjoy your time on Omega."

"I… Thank you, Miss T'Loak." She gave Legion a push and, sensing her anxiety or just being forced by her admittedly higher than normal strength, the machine hurried down the ramp. They collected their weapons and left in peace, with nary a problem beyond eyes following them out the doors.

But at least there'd not been a fight…

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Xarthos :

Glad to satisfy. Or hope to, rather.

Darth Reviewer :

Without spoilers? Yes, it would be technically possible. The real question is if and how Pyrrha might think about the idea. Unlocking Auras is, after all, meant to be an intimate thing to my belief. Not something done lightly.

The Prime Cronos :

Yes I do. Hence sending her ass to Omega.

Soul of None :

See, kinda wish I had thought of that, now. XD

Dr Killinger :

Hey, what happens on Omega, happens because Aria lets it. So no one says fuck all about it. Seriously, though, there will be problems with Legion being around. Some were showcased here, on the less stabby and shooty end of the spectrum.

Thermal Sniper N7 :

Just remember her explanation. Only singular pieces can be directly influenced easily, beyond a certain point. Or they need to be small and light. So while yes, she has very clear advantages, she's not god tier if you catch the drift.

Merendinoe Miliano :

How…? How do I do Arkos in this, though? XD