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Commissioned Work : Espa Cole

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"So, Doctor Solus, I trust you are finding everything is well and acceptable?" Pyrrha sighed when, two days later, the Salarian Aria had called on came by and did its scans. The alien's bright eyes flicked to hers and its pacing paused for a moment but it didn't answer and she frowned, "I would… I would very much like to return home, you understand. And Aria said she wouldn't let me leave until I was healed, so as to avoid anyone coming after me for whatever reason."

"Reasonable. Krogan likely to be angry you survived. May feel the fight was staged, or be insulted for some other reason. Krogan tend to be… Irrational in that way." The alien answered simply, moving across the well made and ornately decorated room to her and scanning her where she sat on the edge of the bed. "And your wounds are… Remarkable."

"Is that good, or…?"

"When I saw you for the first time, you were unconscious. Bleeding internally. Orbital fractures on your right side. A fractured forearm. Broken ribs. Hemorrhaging." The alien rattled on, listing the numerous other breakages, bruises, bleedings and sufferings she'd withstood. Suddenly, the Salarian rounded on her, face close enough she could smell him even over the perfumes Aria suffused her room with. "You should be dead. No Human can go fist to fist with a Krogan Warlord and survive."

"I did."

"Indeed." The alien murmured, leaning back and looking her up and down. Appraising her, like one might an interesting weapon. It was enough she frowned and met his stare with a glare of her own. "No Human could survive fighting a Krogan. Or heal from broken bones and internal bleeding in mere days."

"And yet, I have done just that." She countered, standing and forcing him to back away as she did. Raising her hand, she turned it back and around in a slow circle, letting him see each side, and asked, "Do you see scales? Metal, cybernetics, anything but my flesh and bone?"

"No…"

"Then I am a Human, even if I am… Unique compared to those you have met before." She spoke the words with a certain heat she swiftly regretted, not wishing to insult or offend the kind alien. He'd been gentle with her, and treated her wounds with a care she respected. It would be rude to turn and spit on him now. "Thank you for treating me, but… Please, don't press me on my uniqueness. I ask it of you as gently as I may."

"I see. I will respect your wishes, though I am so curious about you. You are… Remarkable." Regardless, the alien's arm lit up once again and scanned her, from head to toe. The Salarian hummed, then, and turned to walk towards the door without anything beyond, "Will tell Aria that you are well enough to leave and be safe. Should you be injured again…"

"Thank you, Doctor." Doctor Solus only nodded and, after a long minute of silence while he tapped commands and inquiries into his Omni-Tool she asked, "So, is anything new on the station? Aria isn't exactly bringing me newsletters, you understand. She only really comes to grill me for questions, I know not even where she sleeps right now."

"My sector is experiencing a strange flu of some kind. Restricted to the slums, though. Lucky. Means less likely to spread across the station." But unlucky because those living there couldn't afford treatment for it. The alien sighed then and, before her eyes, seemed to age drastically as the energy in his form was sapped and his shoulders slumped. "Trying to treat. Disease… Difficult to handle. Advanced. Unique. Adaptable. Like you. Hoped your body would have answers that I could use."

"Ah."

"Blood tests came back inconclusive. As did scans. No data was useful to study." The alien assured her, as though that were enough to assuage her concerns over her privacy. Her brows rose and she flinched back at the frankness, but he seemed to miss it or, equally possibly, ignored it willfully. "Do not fret. Will do my best to treat the disease. It is odd, though."

"How so?" She asked, as much for curiosity as to simply distract herself from the fact he'd been running tests on her. What was done already was not able to be undone, after all, and so stewing would do naught for her.

"The virus is adaptable, and rapidly attenuates to any treatment I can come to. It doesn't plague Humans or Vorcha however." The alien added the last with a laced echo of worry, its fingers drumming more rapidly on its Omni-Tool. Manic energy, she supposed. "Turians, Krogan, Asari, even a Volus and two Elcor, all have fallen ill. Yet not a single Human or Vorcha."

"Salarians?" She asked, worried for the kind, eccentric man that had been caring for her. "Are they too susceptible to this… Flu?"

"Two hundred and twenty one of them confirmed as infected." He answered, "One hundred and eighteen have died already. Complications. Failures."

"Then you could-"

"I have done much harm. Will do some good. Even if it costs me." The alien shrugged and turned to give her a warm, wide smile. One with genuine, carefree warmth, too, and that surprised her more than she'd expected. "I am a doctor, after all. And it has to be me treating this. Someone else might get it wrong."

"I see. I understand, then, why you would risk so much." And she did, really, in a way she doubted he could ever hope to understand.

Doctor, Huntress, it mattered not in the face of duties. She'd faced Cinder head on, knowing the likelihood of her success - or rather, her lack thereof - in the endeavour. She'd still been best suited, albeit still poorly suited, to face the woman. And likewise, he faced something he was best suited among his peers on the station to face, even if it could easily and readily kill him to do so.

Doctor, Huntress, duty bound by the ties that bound either of them to their works.

"If only my staff would do the same." The Salarian laughed slightly at the idea and then waved her off when she looked at him curiously. Turning to her, the alien clasped his hands behind his wiry, Salarian waist and he smiled clinically. "Not important. What is important is you. And your health is good. Ready to be discharged from your… Well, from here. Able to move and fight, if need be. Suggest you avoid that."

"I always try to." As successful as that could sometimes be, that was. "Please, tell Aria, I have got to get out of this room. It may smell nicer than the station proper, but…"

"Cabin fever a common problem for Humans. Will warn Aria of possible affliction. Should see you released before you lose your mind. Though given you fought a Krogan, diagnosis may be too late." She huffed and he smiled, offered a small nod in farewell and turned to leave without another word.

She wasn't alone for long, because she never was since Legion always joined her. Stepping in, the music from Afterlife thrummed for a moment before the door closed again and sealed it away and the machine moved to its favored spot beside the door.

"Pyrrha." The Geth stated simply in its normal greeting, its flanges twitching excitedly. Or what she thought was excitedly, the machine as hard to read as ever beyond the surface. "Solus, Mordin has informed us you have been cleared of faults. We are pleased to receive this information, and look for to moving on in our inquiries."

"Inquiries?"

"Into Shepard, Commander." The machine clarified simply, adding after a second. "Due to your injuries and our protective detail, we have been unable to pursue our investigation further for some time. We look forward to continuing."

"I didn't know I'd made you have to stop…" And she felt bad for it now, even as her rational mind chimed in to remind her it would be Aria's fault for the delays. Not hers. Still, she bowed her head and said, "I'm so sorry I caused you to be slowed down… I wouldn't have wished that for anything, Legion."

"It is irrelevant now. Further, you were not at fault in any way. You fought well and survived. That is all which should matter." The machine responded, cold logic somehow warming the cold spot of guilt that had settled in her stomach. It gnawed at her all the same, of course, but she offered a small smile and nod to show she'd understood his words. "We have found no leads as of yet regarding Shepard, Commander. When you are ready, we will leave."

"Are we allowed to yet?"

"You were told to stay until cleared to leave by the doctor. We were told you could not leave until that time and agreed to it." The machine answered simply and shortly and with, dare she hear it, a strange edge to its tone. Like it was angry, almost, even though she knew it shouldn't be able to feel anger the same way she'd understand it. "You are cleared now, however, and so unless you wish to stay, we may leave."

"Hand me my greaves then." She smiled, gesturing at them beside the door. The machine turned to retrieve them and she stood, reaching for her armored, leather shell to pull on over her tubetop. It held them out and she flicked her hands, the metal flying free and latching into place around her legs comfortably, and she sighed. "Oh, thank you… It feels so much better with my armor on again."

"Acknowledged." The machine offered cheekily, turning and reaching down to retrieve her shield and spear from where they'd been leaning beside the door. Those, too, she called to herself with her Semblance and held comfortably in her hands. "We are ready, then?"

"Yes." She nodded, "On to the next step then, Legion. Tell me the plan, point my spear where it needs to be, and we shall get back to your quest."

"We must return to our ship, and head to the Omega Four Relay. Though your spear is unimportant for the job to hand." The machine explained, turning to open the door and holding it for her, and speaking louder for the heady thrum of music that coursed through Afterlife like a heartbeat. "We have been offered information on what happened to Shepard, Commander's remains post mortem in exchange for a deep scan of the Relay."

"I thought you didn't have a lead?"

"We did not, until a moment ago." The machine answered, "Aria T'Loak sent the request and offer. It seems she was waiting until you recovered to do so."

"Ah. I… I see, then." That didn't bode well, really. It felt all kinds of edged and laced with danger, like leaping into a cave with no light and the echoes of Grimm around you. But like that, it was her duty to leap into this as it would have been a dark cave. And so she sighed, took a breath and nodded, "Well, let's get this done with, then. So we might move on and keep moving forward."

"Acknowledged." The machine responded in its typical, monotone way as it lead her down into the club and around the outskirts. So they could leave without being heckled terribly much, she figured, familiar with the tactic from her time on the tournament circuit.

A reminder of days that were at once worse and better than now, but she put the thoughts away to move on.

Sailing out of Omega to scan the Omega Four Relay turned out to be a milk run in every sense of the word short of the actual milk involved. People watched her and talked amongst themselves about her, she could tell from the lingering looks and how they fell silent if she looked their way that she was the topic, but the guards didn't hinder her. They did report her, of course, though she expected as much and then some from the self-proclaimed Queen of Omega. Nothing happened on this station, after all, that she didn't know about. It was a fact she often proclaimed, in her short visits to probe Pyrrha for information.

Information she never got, of course, but information Aria was still after regardless.

"Aria T'Loak is likely pressing contacts on the station for information about you. It is even possible that she intends to trade deep scans of the Relay for it, but there is no data available to fully validate that hypothesis. Behavioral information validates that she is looking into your history, however." The machine responded when, sitting on the floor outside its cockpit and twirling her spear in her hand, she told him about her worries. "Are you afraid of her attentions? If so, we will depart for another location."

"I am." She nodded, "Are these other locations able to provide you with the same chance of furthering your mission, though?"

"...Negative." The machine finally responded quietly. "The Terminus Systems are the only place we can easily move. And in it, Omega is the singular best location for information gathering due to Aria T'Loak's presence."

"She's an information monger?"

"Affirmative." The machine responded as the ship moved around the warm, glowing relay she couldn't see. "She uses the information to manipulate other, smaller groups. As well as to maintain a balance between the larger factions in the region. This prevents conflict and offers her advantages over all involved."

"Sensible." Albeit nothing she would have a penchant or proclivity for, she was sure. She preferred to be more direct, more open and frontal, than that in her everyday life. "And you need her. So I shall have to face and control my fears."

"We believe you would be adept at this, given your history." The machine responded by way of a compliment, or at least what it could manage of one with its own conditions. She knew it was trying though and smiled thankfully at the words for his effort. "But we would not think to force you. It is your decision. We will respect and follow it, whatever you decide."

"I believe I have already explained that I will be staying with you, Legion." She chided ever so gently, the machine's flanges whirring and clicking in reaction. A Geth version of a blush, perhaps, or something along those lines? "You needn't continue checking to make sure I am happy. I am a grown woman, and a Huntress besides. I will inform you should my needs not be met in any way."

"...Acknowledged." The machine answered simply, thoroughly satisfied with her response. Or maybe cowed unintentionally, the machine's emotiveness was not what it could be and she couldn't always tell for sure what it felt. "We are completing the final turn of our pass around the Omega Four Relay and will shortly turn for home."

"Acknowledged." She quipped playfully, "Was there anything unique in the scans? Anything that your people would find worth in?"

"Affirmative." It answered, explaining for her benefit and to satisfy the curiosity it would know she had by now. "The Omega Four Relay is broadcasting a signal in intermittent intervals of ten seconds. The signals burst for eight seconds, meaning a latency interval of two in each signal burst. Likely a point where the Collectors who use this broadcast an access signal in order to Relay."

"You said normal relays had to have a signal sent to do that, too." She murmured, loud enough the machine could hear her but not much else. "Coordinates for them to aim at, if I recall rightly. Where the ship wishes to be."

"Indeed, and the Omega Four Relay does as well. But this blockage is not present at other Relays. Also there is… Something else." The machine didn't elaborate though, and she assumed it was because there wasn't anything it could tell about whatever else was there. If there had been, she knew he'd have explained it to her. "We have completed our task and will return to Omega now. Unless you are-"

"Ask if I wish to depart again and I shall smack you with your rifle." She threatened with a laugh, the machine whirring quietly.

"Acknowledged." Was all it said, adding after a quiet, contemplating moment, "Broadcast of data to Geth collective is completed. We are returning now."

It took them fifteen minutes before the Geth ship shuddered around them in the now familiar sound and sensation of docking. Unfortunately for her, it was still a rather nerve wracking experience despite how many times she'd gone through it, and she'd been told that meant she'd likely never adapt. But regardless of the anxiety she felt, she felt that she handled it well enough. The airlock hissed, though, and pulled her from her own thoughts as she moved forward to open it for them.

"Wait, Pyrrha." Legion suddenly said, a hand on her arm before she could touch it. Its flanges flicked and clicked, expanding and contracting rapidly and then going still. "There is currently someone within our apartment. Turian heat signature. Standing still, beside the entrance out of the ship and into our assigned quarters."

"Aria?" Or one of her people, at least, though she was sure the machine understood her question without her explaining it.

"No data available. We detect Mass Effect signature concurrent with personal shielding and armor, as well as weaponry." The Geth explained, stepping back and letting her, the more durable of the two, take the fore. An act that she knew he didn't like, even if Legion still did it for being the more rational thing to do. "It is likely they mean to speak with us, not attack us immediately."

"Why do you say that?" A surprise like this screamed murder to her, but she knew that Legion knew this world better than her.

"If he wanted to eliminate us, planting bombs would be the surest method. Your durability is known, waiting for us to return is an unintelligent and irrational course of action." The machine explained simply, drawing its Predator and checking its magazine as it did. The action was almost anathema to the words he said while doing it, but she let it go. Satisfied, it collapsed the weapon and stated simply, "Possible negotiation is what we hypothesise to be the goal here."

"What do you want to do?"

"Negotiate." The machine nodded simply, gesturing at the airlock. "When prepared, please open the airlock and proceed. We will follow."

"Very well." She sighed and moved her shield to her arm, one of many places she'd been seen carrying it. Hopefully that would mean the alien waiting for them wouldn't take it as a threat but if it did, well… It was a shield. "I'm opening it with my Semblance, just in case there is something waiting for us your sensors couldn't detect."

"Acknowledged."

The hatch groaned as she opened it on the Omega side, loud and grating steel on steel as always when she opened the section that let them into their quarters. Inside, the room was dark, which was itself not unusual. What meagre items they had, mainly crates stacked along the far wall and full of supplies Legion had been stocking up on but hadn't loaded onto the ship, hadn't been touched or moved in any way. Regardless, she knew that there was someone there, trusting Legion's sensors completely. And so when she stepped through and to the side, as though to head towards the door out into Omega proper, she was unsurprised when she felt the barrel of a small sidearm press against the base of her skull.

"Either of you move, and the walls get a nice coat of fresh, red paint." The Turian voice flanged threateningly as Legion stepped into the room. Turning, she got a look at the alien, who wore a silver and blue helmet with dark tinted glass for a visor. "Weapons go back through the hatch, seal the hatch shut behind 'em, then sit on the crates, Tin Man. I know you care about the girl, my contacts say you played bodyguard the whole time she was on the mend after the fight."

"Acknowledged." The machine gave her a look and, at the shake of her head, turned and threw its weapons into the hatch. It clanged shut and the Geth asked, "Shall I turn on the lighting?"

"Nah, we're good. I can see just fine." The alien answered quietly, much to her displeasure, though she would never show it. The room was still lit up well enough to make out most things, corner lights burning an omnipresent, muted orange, but it was a disadvantage. Once Legion sat on the crate the alien grunted, "On your knees and pitch the shield away or-"

She was moving before he finished the sentence, her head snapping back as she spun and the Turian fired a point blank round into her forehead so close she felt the heat from it. Aura sparked and her hand lashed out, palm slapping his chest and then both hands lashing out to backhand its arms like she was trying to open his guard. He reacted as she'd expected, swearing and lashing out with a boot that connected with her stomach and forced her back, and she smiled even as he stepped away and raised the weapon.

"Don't- Agh!" With a flex of her Aura and her arms spread before her, she sent her Semblance to work and pinned him to the wall, the foot that had kicked her and his two arms outstretched where she hung him. The other leg kicked at the floor and he looked between his arms, "What in the name of the Spirits…?"

"We would negotiate with you now, Turian." Legion remarked dryly, having not moved even an inch from the seat he had been commanded to take in the few seconds it had taken for her to pin the alien. "Starting with your name is common among Organics. We are Legion, a terminal of the Geth. This is our companion, Pyrrha Nikos."

"...Archangel." The alien answered quietly after a long minute spent struggling uselessly against her Semblance while she straightened and watched him. Seemingly resigned, he quipped, "So, I'd say we got off on the wrong foot, but, ah… I can't move one of my feet so it would feel a bit on the nose to."

"What kind of name is Archangel?" She asked quietly, as much to Legion as to the Turian. She didn't know the naming convention of this world after all, and so had to check with the machine before she made a misstep.

"The secret, pseudonim kind." The alien snarked back at her, "What kind of Biotics don't glow and work at point blank range? And resist special rounds made to fight Biotic barriers?"

"...The secret kind." The alien cocked its head at her and she murmured a short, "Touche. Why were you waiting for us, Archangel?"

"Wanted to see what kind of woman can throw down with a Krogan. And what kind travels with one of those." The Turian nodded to her companion and shrugged as best it could, unable to move its arms properly and so turning it into a pathetic little facsimile of one. "Turns out, the answer is 'terrifying and bullshit'. Who knew?"

Neither of them answered the question and, anxious, the Turian asked, "So… Negotiation?"

"Negotiation." The Geth confirmed, finally standing and moving to the pinned alien. Looking it up and then down, the machine added quietly, "We have just scanned you. Your biometrics match a Turian in registry to the Citadel. Citadel Security, Second Arm, Ward Detective, Vakarian, Garrus. Former squadmate of Shepard Commander. Is this correct?"

"One, how did you get that information?" The Geth didn't answer, of course, not about to sell out whatever informant he'd bought it from or expose any hacking avenues it had taken. And so a moment later, the Turian sighed and nodded, "Yeah, fine, I'm him. Why do you care? Are you hunting her? Because if so, got some bad news for you."

"Negative." The machine answered, "The Geth Collective suspect she is alive due to mounting data on the matter. We wish to make contact with her in the hopes of preparing to face the Old Machines alongside the Organics of the galaxy."

"...Huh." The Turian considered the Geth for a long moment and finally said. "I can't help you pinned to the wall, Geth, so-"

"Legion." It interrupted, explaining before the Turian could ask. "Our designation is Legion. It was given to us by the first Organic to cooperate peacefully with Geth since the Morning War. We ask that you use it."

"Sorry?"

"Further, you attempted to kill my companion. You will stay pinned to this wall until such a time as we both are satisfied by your answers." The machine sounded oddly heated as it spoke, now. A unique state given the machine's relative inability to convey emotions, and enough that her brows rose for it. "Currently, we seek methods to contact one Liara T'Soni. She has thus far been difficult to find, beyond her presence in and around Ilium, where we do not dare to go."

"Why?"

"If Shepard, Commander lives, then she is in danger." The machine responded simply, "We wish to rescue her in that scenario. You are a friend to Liara T'Soni. We must ask for your cooperation, so we may contact her and attempt to rescue the Commander."

"...Who'd have thought it, a Geth wanting to save Commander Shepard." The alien murmured, talking more to itself and then falling silent for a long moment. Thinking, she assumed, waiting patiently alongside her companion while it did. Finally, the alien sighed and nodded, "Fine. I'll send a message to her if, uh, if you'll let me down?"

"...Very well." The machine nodded, giving its companion a nod. Shield raised warily, she stepped in between the two of them and let the Turian fall. It landed steadier than she'd expected and Legion asked, "You will cooperate with us willingly?"

"Yeah, I will." He sighed, shaking his helmeted head and sighing. "But only because you said she might be alive. I don't trust a Geth as far as I can throw one, but…" The alien sighed again, this time sounding tired and resigned again, "But if there's a half a chance she's alive, I'll work with you."

"Acknowledged." The machine answered, "Please, proceed to message Liara T'Soni."

"I… Have to head to base first, actually." He answered quietly, rolling his shoulders to stretch and explaining, "I have a special terminal she sent to me there. Encrypted. If I'm asking this kind of stuff, I want it secure."

"...Acknowledged." Legion answered quietly, "We will follow."

It said it as a fact but turned to her regardless, as though asking her consent for the idea. She gave it readily and nodded, not knowing enough about any of this to argue, and the Turian brushed between them, "Let's go then. I had check-in two minutes ago, so unless you want a Krogan coming looking for me, we need to head out."

"Krogan are no threat." Legion responded quietly, "Pyrrha is able to engage them in melee combat with a seventy-eight percent chance of success. With this unit's intervention, that rises to an estimated ninety-three percentage success rate."

The Turian only groaned, paused by the door to bang its head against the wall, and murmured, "Spirits take me, this is not what I wanted to do today…"

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Henri :

Back with more now, thanks to my commissioner in the top details~!

Red Shirt :

I would argue she's less arrogant, and more confident. Like, she knows what she can do, and loves a good fight. But yeah, there is a touch of haughtiness and rigidity to her post death. Because, you know, dying. It don't just tickle.

Dr. Killinger :

Pyrrha is strongk. Krogan warlord with centuries of experience and Biotics is stongker. If only just.

The Prime Cronos :

I intend for her to, don't worry~!