Interloper: Chapter 3
Introductions
That 'night' the beacon's images chased me around my own head. They were still the jumbled mess they were when I received them. Flashes of colors, smells, sounds. Smoke and blood layered over a sense of despair that could almost be tasted. Tall buildings on fire that rang with the screams of those inside. Over it all, the certainty that the end was near. I awoke with a start to the echoes of a braying war horn of a Reaper, as real in my ears as if it had been blown in the room. My forehead was drenched in sweat and my heart thundered. The horn echo faded away into a harsh buzzing.
I was alone in the quietly humming medbay. The lights had been turned off for the ship's night shift, and no other crew members had managed to get themselves admitted since I'd passed out after the briefing. And it was cold. I hugged my knees to my chest under the thin hospital covers and shivered. The excitement of my journey that had flooded my body with adrenaline since waking up on Eden Prime had worn off and left only aches and bruises and a ball of nervous energy that had made a nest somewhere near the pit of my stomach. What was I doing here?
The doors swished open. My eyes snapped up and I forced my knees to straighten. No need to look like a frightened child in front of my new shipmates. Shepard stood in the doorway, framed in silhouette by the dimmed lights of the mess hall beyond. She was tall even outside her suit of armor, almost reaching my 6'3. Her hair hung loosely in a short bob of coppery locks that reached just below her ears, but not so low as to cover the thin scar tissue that ran from her forehead to just below her right eye.
"This a bad time?" She asked, simply.
"No, I couldn't sleep anyway," I replied. "Bad dreams."
"Those visions getting any clearer?" she asked as she crossed the room and stood at the foot of my bed with her arms crossed. I must have made a face, because she grimaced. "That bad?"
"It's not too bad," I lied, "well, it's not getting worse at least. I don't think whatever message that beacon was supposed to pass along was meant to chill out in human brains. Lotta noise. Some smells." For a while, there was only silence between us. "If you don't mind me asking, is there something I can help you with, Commander?"
"Just getting to know my crew, Liddle," Shepard said with a light chuckle. "I actually wanted to go over your combat background. This isn't going to be an easy investigation, and that's before we even catch up to Saren. It's going to be all hands on deck around here for the foreseeable future, and I want to know who I can rely on in a fight."
"Alright, Commander, what did you want to know?" I asked, careful not to appear too apprehensive. If I was honest with myself, I was far from a soldier. But to be left sidelined on this opportunity to save the galaxy alongside Commander Shepard scared me almost as much as the geth attack on Eden Prime.
"You were in the militia, what exactly did you cover? Corporal Jenkins was under the impression that you received only sketchy marksmanship training, and that you needed help operating basic hardsuits.
"He'd be right, for the most part," I admitted. "I had only been in a few months when the geth attacked. I haven't received much formal training at all. Most of my experience has been shooting with my dad."
"We'll have Gunnery Chief Williams run you through your paces," Shepard said, nodding. "Have you worked with maintenance before?"
"I was on the robotics team in high school?" I offered. "Pretty rudimentary stuff, colony life being what it is."
"We'll add that to the docket, looks like we'll have to set up a little boot camp down in the hold. How are your small unit tactics, technical skills training?"
"Small unit tactics, I've had about a hundred hours... uh... simulated." I hope video games counted.
"Alright, now we're getting somewhere. Any other skills?"
"I can drive stick," I joked. To my surprise, that actually seemed to pique her interest.
"As in a manual transmission?" Shepard asked. "I wasn't aware they still made civilian vehicles without a direct haptic interface."
"Oh, yeah, we had this one antique... tractor, that I used to practice with on the weekends." I really needed to work on my cover-ups.
"The only reason I ask is because the Normandy doesn't have a dedicated Mako driver and while I'm technically certified to operate it, I prefer to lead my team from the ground without leaving our transport empty and unlocked. That and most of the grunts grew up around haptics and aren't too comfortable with its column and stick system. First chance we get, we'll have you try your hand at operating it. That and we'll get you issued a Lancer. Oh, and the armor you came in with was pretty much toast, so we'll fit you with something from our stocks. Report to Chief Williams in the cargo bay first thing tomorrow."
"You got it, Commander," I said, hiding a yawn. "Um, what time is it now?"
"Ship time? About 0300"
Three in the morning? "Isn't it a bit early to be doing performance reviews?"
"That would be pretty late, Deputy. Can't stop to sleep while the galaxy needs saving," She responded, uncrossing her arms. "See you at breakfast."
I woke up in the 'morning' feeling almost refreshed. Whatever Doctor Chakwas was giving me must have been working overtime, because even with the late-night performance review and beacon dreams, I only felt mildly groggy. At least the pounding headache and the buzzing in my brain were gone.
"Ah, awake I see."
"Doctor Chakwas," I answered, turning to face the steel haired doc from where I'd been trying to shrug into a dark blue uniform that someone had thoughtfully hung up beside the bed. "I wanted to thank you. I'm feeling so much better this morning."
"I'm happy to hear that. Now, I have a few more tests I'd like to run before I release you," Chakwas replied. "Please hold still, this won't take a second." She reached to lower one of the spindly arms that hung above the medical bed until it sat about level with my head. "Hmm, still no signs of neurological degeneration. I am still seeing signs of heightened unusual brain wave activity though. They shouldn't cause any future health issues, but I should like to have you come back for regular checkups to monitor the situation. After all, we've never had this kind of human/prothean interface before." She pulled the diagnostic tool away and let me begin to get up. "One more thing, Deputy."
There was a sharp sting in my shoulder that made me jump. "Ah, what was that?"
"That was the standard 'Omni-booster,' usually given to recruits and colonists before they leave Earth. Somehow you seemed to have avoided getting it. I shall need a copy of your medical records from Eden Prime as soon as they complete their reconstruction." She fixed me with a critical eye.
"Not a fan of needles," I mumbled. "But thanks, I guess." I pulled the uniform the rest of the way up my shoulder and rubbed at it.
"Now run along, I expect they'll be serving breakfast soon."
I nodded and headed towards the door. Before I could make good my escape, Chakwas called after me.
"And Deputy, I don't expect to have to patch you up again for a good while."
The mess was already busy, the tables full of eating crewmen. Up at what I guessed was the Officer's table sat the Commander, along with Kaidan Alenko and Navigator Pressly. Shepard and the biotic lieutenant seemed to be discussing something.
Probably his time at brain camp.
I found an empty seat next to Jenkins. The marine's face split into a broad grin as I approached and he scooted his chair and tray over to make room for me. I plopped my own tray down and gave my breakfast a dubious once over. Breakfast on the Normandy apparently consisted of a thick blue paste and a short stack of crumbly yellow squares.
"What is this supposed to be?" I asked as Jenkins passed me a tray of the squares.
"I think it's supposed to be the cornbread." A marine remarked from further down the table. I took a bite tentatively. Hopefully lunch would taste better.
"So is it true?" another marine asked, "You're the guy that messed up the beacon back on Eden Prime?" Just as I was about to answer, Jenkins came to my rescue.
"Hey, this guy saved my life twice down there; that makes him a hero in my book."
"If you say so corp." the marine eyed me.
"I do say so, Private." Jenkins said. He set his jaw and gave the offending marine with the same hard eyes he had given the geth back on Eden Prime. The marine gave a small snort and stood to leave.
"Whatever, I have to get to my duties." He scooped up his tray and walked away. Conversation returned to the table. I hadn't noticed it fall silent.
"Thanks, Jenkins," I said. I made another attempt at the supposed cornbread. It was not much improved by dipping it in the dark blue goo. I wrinkled my nose at the unidentifiable flavor.
"You saved my life, it's the least I could do. And call me Rick." The corporal gave me a friendly smile. "The secret is salt, by the way. For your food." He added, seeing my apparent confusion.
I reached for the small salt shaker the table shared and gave the breakfast rations a healthy dousing. True to Jenkins' words, it went down a great deal easier. "Alright Rick, then call me Mike. Being called 'Deputy' all the time makes me feel like I'm in some kind of western."
"Wait, you watch westerns?" Jenkins' face seemed to light up. "I thought I was the only one. I've been trying to get some of the guys to watch, right guys?"
"Yeah, only every day." One of the marines joked
"So who's your favorite? Hicks? Robinson?" Jenkins looked about ready to leap out of his seat.
"I don't know; I've always been a fan of Fillion." I replied.
Jenkins bobbed his head. "Ah, a fan of the classicals. I haven't seen much of him myself, you, uh, didn't happen to bring any along with you, did you?"
"No, you guys just scooped me right out of there," that got me a look, "Not that I'm not grateful, I was in pretty bad shape." Our conversation was interrupted by a cough behind us. Jenkins stood to salute.
"XO Pressly."
"At ease Corporal." The ship's Navigator turned to me.
"Deputy Liddle, I've set you up with a billet. You'll find the crew quarters just aft of the cargo elevator. There's also a locker set up to your biometrics just over there, by the medbay. The Commander wants you to go see Gunnery Chief Williams to get your gear. Since you aren't on Alliance payroll, you'll be responsible for maintaining your own weapons and armour."
"Thank you…sir." I said, accepting the datapad he offered.
"Good," the XO said, "and remember, this is an Alliance military ship, not some colonial militia post. We hold to a higher standard." And with that, he was off.
"Don't worry about Pressly, he's old guard, one of Anderson's guys. The Commander'll keep him in line if he gives you too hard a time." Jenkins said conspiratorially.
"I don't think he likes me too much." I worriedly watched Pressly march back up to the CIC. Distrusting crew members could be dangerous. If Pressly did some digging, I could find myself dragged before a judge, or even worse, out the airlock.
"Yeah, well, the XO doesn't like civilians, or aliens. Come to think of it, I'm not sure there's anything he does like."
"Regulations maybe?" That got a light chuckle. "Anyway, I should go. Gotta meet the Chief."
A short ride in the elevator later, I walked out into the cargo hold. The hold felt much more cramped than I remembered it. I gave the room a quick scan. Garrus was perched atop the Mako, chewing on whatever Dextro rations he had brought with him. Over by his table, the requisition officer shared breakfast with one of the nameless engineers. And in the back corner, Chief Williams stood bent over the weapons bench. She was running a glowing Omni-tool over a partially disassembled rifle. "Deputy Liddle, reporting as ordered, ma'am." I snapped off a quick salute.
"Geez kid, where'd you learn to salute," she said. "And it's 'Chief,'" she added with a smile, "They don't pay me enough to call me ma'am. Anyway, I have your kit assembled and ready to go." She snapped the rifle together with practiced precision. "This here's your standard Lancer pattern assault rifle. Heat sink's got capacity for about twenty-seven, twenty-eight shots and what it lacks in punch it makes up in durability. It's got lots for add-ons and breaks down easy for repairs." She made a show of hitting a series of tabs on the rifle, first breaking it down, then slotting it back together. I tried to memorize the movements. "Ammo block goes back here, looks like you've got standard steel. You're gonna want to look out for feeder fouling every hundred shots or so, that was always an issue on the older Lancers." She continued the lecture. "Any questions?"
"No, I think you covered everything."
"All right then," she said, dropping the folded rifle back onto the table. "Next up, your sidearm." She dragged a pistol over from the edge of the bench and dropped it into my hands. It had a familiar weight to it. I turned it over in my hands to see a pair of deep furrows winding down the length of the barrel.
"That's the gun you used on Eden Prime." Ashley noted.
"The Commander didn't want it back?" I asked. I ran my fingers over the rough scratches.
"The gun was marked as damaged and replaced when we hit Arcturus Station. Since the damage was purely cosmetic, the Commander wanted you to have it. It's a Devlon Stinger, if you were wondering, they're supposed to be top of the market."
I collapsed the red handgun into its compact form and placed it on the convenient clip on the uniform belt.
"And finally, the armor," Ashley dumped a neatly folded stack of dark green plates and rubbery undersuit onto the table. "You know the drill with that, but here's a couple of things you probably didn't go over bucking it on in the field." She ran her hands over the buckle on the front. "Quick release, handy for if you've managed to get yourself wedged on something or you're on fire." She flipped it over. "Magnetic anchors for your firearms, these are bays for on board fabrication materials. They'll sync up with your omni-tool... once we issue you one." She eyed my naked wrist. She flipped it again and pointed to the glassy nodules that dotted the surface. "These are your kinetic barrier emitters. You'll want to keep those extra shiny." With quick expert movements, she disassembled all the plates and shucked the webbing before reversing the process. "Alright, that should be everything."
"No shotgun, sniper rifle?"
"Do you have any idea how heavy that would be? You're skinny enough I had doubts on even issuing you the medium armor." She stepped away from the table to give me a full view of the assembled kit. "Now, you sure you don't have any questions about anything we've gone over here?"
"Nope, I think I got it."
"Oh, good," Ashley said, her grin turning wicked. "Because you're not leaving this workbench until we can break these down and put them back together from memory."
I groaned internally.
It was late in the ship's shift cycle when I was finally able to leave, though not without a promise from Ashley that there would be more to come tomorrow. My fingers were sore from manipulating what seemed like an unreasonable number of tabs and buttons. How was it that the gunnery chief had made it look so easy? And that didn't even cover the ache in my back and arms from hauling the bundled suit of armor around. Some pushups were definitely in order, something Ashley had been more than happy to make comment on. But the work for the day was done, and I had been dismissed with a "Now get that stowed and go do whatever it is a Spectre's deputy does."
Exactly what a Spectre's deputy did turned out to be very little. Not being Alliance, I wasn't on the duty roster, so after checking and stowing my gear, I found myself lost for something to do on the way to Therum. I ended up heading back down into the cargo hold just to get out of everyone's way. The bay was surprisingly empty. Wrex was hanging around his usual spot, but no one else seemed to be around.
Guess I can't expect them to hang around in one spot waiting to be talked to.
I gave a passing nod to Wrex and headed towards the Mako. The IFV's hatch was open. I clambered over into the darkened tank. The cockpit was narrow and cramped, but I was able to wriggle my way into the driver's seat. My feet found three pedals, and my right hand found what must have been the gear stick. By the look of the markings, the transmission worked a lot like that of a big rig truck. That was going to take some getting used to, but it looked all the time I had spent with my grandfather in his truck would finally come in handy.
"Hey, who's in there?"
I swung around. Garrus had his head halfway into the hatch.
"Oh, it's you." He hauled himself into the troop compartment and took a seat in the turret chair. "Magnificent piece of hardware isn't it." He said, stroking the controls.
"Yeah," I replied, "It's Garrus, right? You're the one who got the evidence on Saren."
"That's right, with the quarian's help. I had been running an investigation on him for a while, just something to do in my free time. When the quarian came to C-Sec, my superiors tried to hush it up. That's when your Shepard approached me."
"Why was the Commander looking for stuff on Saren?" I asked. Since we had been too late to see Powell on Eden Prime, there was no real connection to Nihlus' killer.
"She didn't, she heard I had something on the Geth attack, found me in the middle of an operation, just walked into the middle of a firefight and shut it down. I have to say I was impressed."
"She's like that, isn't she?" I said. That cleared that up.
We sat in silence until the turian spoke again. "So, has the Commander tried to sit you down for a chat yet?"
"Hmm?" I was engrossed in poking around the dash of the Mako.
"She seems pretty eager to 'get to know the crew.' She was down here earlier trying to get Wrex's story."
I smiled at that. It was exactly how I played Sheppard in the game.
"Probably just wants to get a feel for the newcomers. Us humans don't have much experience working with other species, let alone commanding them."
"That does make sense." Garrus said. He looked out over the bay. "You know, she's not what I expected when I heard they were inducting a Human Spectre. I thought it was just going to be some politician's pet yes-man. Your Shepard puts the mission first, but not at the expense of her team. I like that." The conversation lulled again. Just as I was about to ask some more about his time in C-Sec, the Mako's speakers chimed.
"Detective Vakarian, Deputy Liddle, please report to the Comm room."
"Duty Calls."
By the time the two of us arrived in the Comm room, the rest of the team had already assembled. We took seats and waited. Commander Shepard cleared her throat.
"You're probably wondering why you've all been called down here." A wave of assent ran through the ring. "We just dropped out of the Artemis Tau relay, Alliance command has asked us to investigate a squad of marines that went missing recently."
Garrus raised a claw to interrupt. "Commander, aren't we already on a mission? And as a Spectre, why are you taking orders from the Alliance?" Shepard regarded him for a second before answering.
"These aren't orders, Garrus, this is a favor to Rear Admiral Kahoku. And as the only Human Spectre, it is my responsibility to look to humanity's interests out here in the galaxy. If you have a problem with that, you can leave."
This unexpected show of force shut Garrus up.
"Now, the last transmission the squad sent out came from this system." Shepard pointed to the screen behind her, which had a map of the helpfully labeled Sparta system displayed. "When we dropped out of FTL, we picked up a distress call from Edolus, not from the marines, but it's our best lead. I'm going to take a team down, and survey the area. Kaidan, we're picking up some odd readings to the east of the landing zone. I want you to take a detachment of your marines to investigate. Chief Williams, you, me, Garrus, and Wrex are going to proceed on foot to the site of the distress call. Deputy Liddle, you're going to take the Mako for a spin, Corporal Jenkins will be with you to fill in any blanks."
Everyone else sat in silence, probably going over their orders. Wrex didn't seem happy that he was being brought along to answer a simple distress call. I was troubled; the whole scenario seemed so familiar. The events of the first game were pretty hazy past the main plot, but something told me this was significant.
"Alright, we've got a two-day cruise to reach the system, get all your gear set up, be ready to go as soon as we hit atmosphere."
That night, I slept in the bunk that had been assigned to me by Navigator Pressley. The bunk was warm when I slipped into it, apparently much like a submarine, Alliance frigate crewmen hot bunked. After the quiet hum of the medbay, it was hard to get to sleep on the hard mattress in the crew quarters. There was always coming and going, the quiet murmur of conversation. Sleep eventually took me, only to revisit me with visions of a dying empire. I awoke to the face of my new bunkmate.
"Sorry," I mumbled, groggy as I hauled myself out of the sleeping cubicle. I shuffled off to the adjoining bathroom only to be presented by an empty shower stall. No knobs, no showerhead. I looked around sheepishly. Other members of my watch were filing into the room and stripping down before hopping into other stalls. The stalls went opaque and began to hum with a buzz that didn't sound too different from an electric toothbrush. I stood there, lost, halfway out of my issued undershirt and utterly frozen in anxious terror. I couldn't exactly peak around the dividers to see what my neighbors were doing.
"Pssst."
The hiss shook me from my panicked state.
"Huh?"
"You, uh, having trouble with the shower?" To my relief, it was Jenkins. "Bet you had water down on Eden Prime, huh?"
"Uh, yeah," I answered, sheepishly. "Knobs, the whole deal."
Jenkins chuckled. "Yeah, had a little trouble myself when I first came aboard," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Us colony boys gotta stick together though, so I'm not going to let you spend a week figuring it out like these jokers did. You see that little silver plate just under that slot in the stall there?"
I put my hand against the wall, following the tiles until I found the metal plate. As my hand ran over it, a glowing holographic display lit up in the shape of a dial. Now we were getting somewhere. I turned the dial. The shower stall emitted an ear-splitting shriek that drew loud and creative expletives from my fellow crew members. I was buffeted by a wave of force that plucked at my clothes and sent my hair in wild spirals. I quickly moved to shut it off.
"Yeah, that's the frequency dial," Jenkins said, working his jaw and wiggling his finger in his ear. "You're going to want to keep that down below the mid fifty mark."
"Right."
One mortifying shower later, I was dressed again and headed for the mess hall once again. Jenkins tagged along, having apparently waited for me to finish scrubbing up. We chatted briefly over a meal of more of the ship's ersatz cornbread and bitter coffee.
"So, what does the commander have you doing today?" He asked as we stowed our trays.
I made a face. "I'm back in Ash… I mean, Chief Williams little boot camp down in the hold. Turns out trying to dig a hole in the ground isn't exactly Alliance doctrine."
"Ha, so, you get to spend the whole day with the Chief," Jenkins laughed. "Lucky."
"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to… wait, what was that last part?" I asked.
Jenkins laughed again, this time more nervously. "Oh, nothing. Anyway, you better get down there. I've got a rotation up on the bridge. Can't leave the Commander waiting, you know." The affable marine beat feet down the corridor, leaving me alone. The Ship's clock's electronic chime sounded in the background. I was late.
Ashley was waiting for me as I stepped off the agonizingly slow elevator. So, to my surprise, was Tali. The purple hooded alien leant against the workbench, tinkering with a narrow-framed shotgun. Ashley, for her part, stood slightly apart from the young quarrian, checking her watch. She looked up as I hustled over.
"Ah, Deputy, so kind of you to join us," she said, offering me a wry smile. "I'd give you laps, but we've only got two days to get you in fighting shape. And that means today we'll be doing target practice."
"Target practice, should I have brought my lancer with me?" I asked, half ready to turn around and run for the elevator again.
"Not today," Ashley replied, holding up her hands. "We'll be running simulations before I let you loose with dummy rounds down here. Grab a mask and a pair of gloves, I've got a few scenarios I want to run you through, get an idea of what we're working with here."
"And what am I doing here?" Tali asked, speaking for the first time. "I already know how to shoot. You don't leave the flotilla without knowing how to take care of yourself."
"Of that I don't doubt," Ashley said, sounding like she very well might doubt it. "But taking care of yourself and taking care of your buddy in a firefight are two different things. The Commander just wants to know that everyone's on the same page."
"I don't see Garrus down here," Tali responded. She peered around, as if making sure that the turian C-Sec officer wasn't about to jump out at us.
"Officer Vakarian cleared Citadel Security training." Was all Ashley offered. The terse phrase had the feeling of finality about it. The end of our explanation. She waved a hand towards a pair of goggles lying on the table. "The goggles and gloves, Deputy. Miss Rayya will have to use her suit HUD. We've got an OCD if you don't have a program that interfaces with our combat computer."
"My family name is Zorah," Tali rebutted, "the Rayya is the ship I grew up on. And yes, I do have something that should talk to your simulation."
"Uh, great, yeah. Sorry about that," Ashley said. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "We'll start you off with a pretty simple shooting range, check your basic marksmanship. Starting the simulation up now."
With a flick of her wrist, we were suddenly in an empty, black space. I looked around, glad that the simple VR goggles likely weren't capturing my gawping. With a start, I realized I was sharing the space with both Tali and Ashley. "Alright, kids, simple rules. Hit the targets, don't get hit. Go"
