Mass Effect: Interloper Rewrite: Chapter 4

Boot Camp


At the word, 'Go,' the black expanse of the simulator filled with moving orange orbs. I ducked as one zoomed at my head, barely missing my ear. Behind me, the blatting sound of an assault rifle at full auto filled the air. I turned to find Tali squeezing off burst after burst at the wildly looping target dots.

"Hey, where did you get that?" I asked with a motion towards the simulated weapon.

"There's one stuck to your back," Tali responded tersely. "Have you never used one of these sims before?" The quarian dodged another of the bright orange dots and tracked it with her rifle. Bright bolts lanced out and caught the mote mid-turn. It exploded in a trail of simulated sparks.

I reached behind my back as if reaching for a weapon. My hands found none, but when I pulled them back, they were wreathed in a blue hologram that quickly resolved into the hump-backed shape of an alliance rifle. The hologram locked onto my wrists as if solid. My finger felt the trigger, bringing forth a blast of rounds. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere."

"You actually going to fire your weapon at a target, Liddle?" the disembodied voice of Ashley asked. "Time's ticking, militiaman."

I felt myself flush furiously and tucked the hardlight dummy rifle to my shoulder. Something pelted me in the back, eliciting a sharp shock from the gloves and a loud ringing buzzer. I flailed around to see a little orange mote whizz away. I followed it with my rifle, trying to keep the sights centered on the ball. I pulled the trigger and watched three rounds scream by, slashing through its wake.

Right, lead the target.

I sighted in again. The ball hopped and bounced, impishly avoiding my aim. I followed it placing my crosshairs just ahead of the orb. Another burst and this time it was my turn to trigger a cascade of sparks. Two more impacts sent shocks through my gloves. The buzzer sounded again. The black simulated space dissolved and left me blinking in the suddenly bright cargo bay. Ashley faced me with arms crossed.

"Three strikes Liddle, you're out. If you went for round two with those drones from Eden Prime today, we'd be shipping you home in a box." She straightened up and uncrossed her arms. "You know what you did?"

"Well, I certainly didn't hit the targets," I offered. I yanked the goggles from my head and scratched at the imprints they'd left over my ears.

"Cute. No, you got fixated. We see it all the time in trainees. You can't just follow one target on the battlefield, you gotta keep your awareness wide even as you keep your aim focused. It's why we train you to keep both eyes open when you shoot." She crossed the space between us and stepped behind me. "Also, tuck your elbows in, helps with stability." She said, patiently. She grabbed me by the elbows and showed me before pressing down on my shoulders. "And bend your knees. Now, go again."


I sucked deeply on the proffered water bottle. The latest simulation had involved a run through the narrow confines of a digital maze as holotargets popped out from behind doorways and stacks of crates to pelt us with little bolts of light. Under Ashley's tutelage, I had made decent scores. Not so decent as the alien across the way, I noted ruefully. Tali sat perched on a folding chair with a large filtered straw hooked up to her own water bottle, joining it to a port in her mask. She was good, really good. Every scenario we ran, she outscored me. The gap was closing with each round, but since she'd started by more than doubling my own points, that still left her running circles around me. At this point, I was going to get myself left on the bench.

I took another pull of the chill water and levered myself up to my feet. The rest of it went over my face and shoulders, to be followed by a wipe of a towel. I walked over to join my partner in training. Tali didn't look up as I approached.

"You're, uh, pretty good," I started. I immediately kicked myself at the awkward introduction. "I mean, really good."

"Pretty good for a quarian?" Tali asked. She still did not look up.

"Oh, that's not what I meant," I backpedaled. "I mean, you wiped the floor with me. I bet that flotilla training combined with your tech skills makes you pretty dangerous in a fight, right?" I quailed a little as the slight quarian finally looked up. The two bright lights of her eyes locked on to mine from beneath her frosted mask.

"Because I've got to be a whiz at tech, huh? All us quarians are just really good at making AI and hotwiring aircars. That's what you're thinking, right?" She stood up. Although she only just came up to my chin, the intensity of her words and the speed at which she bounced off the chair made me take a step backwards.

I kicked myself. Just because I knew Tali's life story from hours of listening to dialogue trees didn't mean that we were friends. Or even that we had been formally introduced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything."

"Oh, well if you didn't mean to..." Tali trailed off. She was looking at something behind me.

"Deputy, Miss Zorah," Ashley said pointedly.

Inwardly, I praised the unknowing rescue. I turned to face the gunnery chief. She had a lit omni-tool wrapped around her wrist and seemed to be reading from a message projected in the air in front of her.

"Break time's over, the Commander wants you working on some specialist training for the rest of the day. Zorah, that means heading fore to chat with the engineering crew about getting you combat programming certified. Sounds like from what Commander Shepard says, you're something of a whiz at tech."

"Yeah, you got it," Tali responded. She quickly pushed past me, not looking me in the eye. The anger in her frame seemed to slacken somewhat, like sails losing their wind.

"And me?" I asked. I tried not to let the nerves sneak into my voice.

"The Mako," Ashley said. She pointed her thumb back towards the slab-sided infantry fighting vehicle behind her. "Hop on in; I'll fill you in once you get situated."

I nodded and walked briskly over to the waiting form of the tank. The side hatch was already standing open, waiting for me. I hopped aboard. The Mako's hatch hissed closed behind me and for a moment it was entirely dark. My heart thrummed as I shuffled into the steel bucket seat in the IFV's nose, careful to avoid touching anything important. The seat felt close, almost claustrophobic. Then the dash lit up. The pale orange light filled the canopy and illuminated the vehicle's driving column. My hands found the wide flanges of the steering wheel. In that moment, it felt almost overwhelmingly real. I was sitting in the Mako, getting ready to start training to drive it on an alien planet. My face split in a massive grin and I barely suppressed a gleeful squeak. My glee was broken by the voice of Ashley coming in over the Mako's radio.

"Alright, Deputy, the techs have switched the controls over to training mode. You're disconnected from the drive train, so no need to worry about breaking anything. I'll be passing you off to the trainer VI now. It'll simulate the engine performance and outside scenario for you. I'll be sitting in, but this is a little out of my wheelhouse, so if you have questions, you'll want to direct them at the Mako itself."

"Okay," I replied, "Guess we'll start by turning it on."

[Please allow me to assist you.] An electronic voice filled the tank. A blinking red button lit up on the dash. A small projected waveform popped up at the corner of the darkened front facing display screen. [This is the engine start button. Please press the engine start button to start the engine.]

"Alright, Mr. Tutorial." I reached up and punched the wide, flat button. Speakers in the dash rumbled with simulated engine noises. "Okay, so far so good. What's next." My smile returned. Even though it had been simulated, the sound of the engines surrounding me, filling me with their bass rumble rather than coming through headphones triggered a childlike rush in me. It was like starting up the game for the first time all over again. I reached for the gearstick while my foot found the clutch.

[The Mako Infantry Fighting Vehicle uses an eighteen speed...]

The voice was interrupted as my fingers closed around the shifter, feeling for the Hi/Lo switch and resting my thumb on the splitter stud. Just the way I remember it. The stick went into Lo/Lo and my foot lifted off the clutch. There was an ear-splitting screech from the speakers and the engine sounds died. My face felt inflamed with embarrassment. My mind was cast back to an empty bus station parking lot and the embarrassment in front of the older man in the passenger seat. But this time there was no one to see my embarrassment. No one but Ashley.

"Easy, easy," she said, slowly. "The Mako is a piece of precision equipment, not an old tractor. You've gotta treat it a little more gently than your old man's combine harvester."

"Aye aye, Chief," I managed through gritted teeth. In the background, the training VI continued to natter on. "Alright, deep breaths, Liddle." I reached for the starter button again and brought the engine back to its simulated thrum. The clutch came up, the engine stalled again. And again. And again. I gripped the gearshift white knuckled. My shoulders shook as I pulled my other hand back from the steering column. I sucked a deep, halting breath through my teeth. It was exactly like the old parking lot. Only this time, I didn't have my parent's old automatic to fall back on while I regained my confidence. My mind drifted back to the day I'd almost quit learning to drive all together. What was it my teacher had said, try to feel the engine? But this was just a simulation. There was nothing in the clutch to 'feel.' I wiped at my cheek where something hot had splashed and reached for the starter again. I was going to have to change my approach if I was going to get this right. The simulator might not have an actual revving engine, but I had more than just the sense of touch. I depressed the clutch again and ever so slowly applied my foot to the accelerator, my breath held to better hear the sound the engine made in the speakers. After a few revvs, I went to lift the clutch. The gnashing sounded again, but I pumped the clutch, barely able to halt the stall.

"Okay, so you're at least smart enough to do a little more than pass/fail me," I said, addressing the training VI as it continued to repeat its training instructions. I feathered the accelerator again and was rewarded with the satisfying growl of the engine biting. I nearly punched the roof in my excitement. The distraction was enough to bring the Mako to a lurching halt again, but that was not enough to break my excitement.

[Congratulations,] the VI intoned. [Next module; basic controls and steering.]


The first day of boot camp apparently came with homework. I'd been assigned technical Manuals, user guides, and pages from the Alliance Marines Infantry Primer. I read them all hungrily. The material itself was desert baked dry, but the peek into the working of the world I had only ever glimpsed through codex entries on a screen propelled me through each paragraph and diagram. The medium of the reading didn't hurt. I marveled once again at the flat, grey device about the size of a wristwatch strapped to my arm.

I shuffled into the barracks, my body aching from exercise and the tension of being hunched over the Mako's simulated controls for so long. My skin tingled from the second sonic shower of the day, more successful than the morning attempt. I found my rack empty and fell into it. I fished the device I'd been handed before leaving the cargo hold from my pocket. I flipped the flat, grey box between my fingers. The thin straps flopped to and fro. The device was devoid of any markings save for a stylized oval.

No on switch, huh.

I flipped it over one more time and took the plunge. A gingerly placed the small box on my right wrist and closed the clasp on the band. A projected screen shimmered into existence above my arm, thanking me for my purchase of the Aldrin Labs Bluewire Omni-tool. The projection looked solid, even as it bobbed suspended in the air. I felt the shiver of a thrill run through me and reached out to tap the message. It dissolved under my touch, reforming into the familiar orange glow of an omni-tool. Up close, the arm mounted computer was a lot closer to the technology I was used to than the blocky art I was presented with in Mass Effect. It didn't take me long to find a desktop, a keyboard, a menu. It was time to play with the settings. Three menus deep into the configuration settings, I received a ping announcing that I had successfully connected to the Normandy's extranet terminal. My face split in a childlike smile. I spent almost an hour pouring over the recommended downloads, dodging glances from my new crewmates, who doubtless wondered why I had a look of giddy excitement plastered across my face from accessing the most basic of programs.

I fell asleep somewhere between an image of the inner workings of the Mako's mass effect core and an instructional video on how to dig a field expedient firing pit. I woke up to a cheeping alarm that vibrated against my cheek. A quick clean and a hurriedly scooped breakfast later and I was back in the cargo hold. As a last-minute message notification on the omni-tool requested, I had the folded form of the M-7 Lancer tucked under the crook of my elbow.

"Showing up early today, eh?" Ashley asked as I stepped off the elevator. "I like it. Step on over here, we're going to be doing something a little different today."

I followed her extended arm over to the small workbench she habitually haunted. Stacked neatly on the rubberized surface were several bright orange boxes, about the size of a pack of cigarettes. "What have we got here?"

"This," Ashley said, "is your ammunition for today. Light weight plastic, won't melt in your weapon, ballistically identical at range distances, though you won't get the same recoil. You remember how to swap it out?"

"Even if I didn't, my fingers will remember that for the rest of my life," I joked lightly. My fingers fumbled with the catch on the rifle's side. The front of the weapon levered open and I dumped the steel brick held inside, quickly picking up a block of the dummy ammunition to replace it. The rifle snapped closed with a slight hiss and a triple beep. "Point me at some targets."

"Okay, kid, points for enthusiasm. I want that ammo change smoother the next time I see it, though. On the battlefield, and extra few seconds reloading or clearing a jam can be the difference between getting the bad guy, and the bad guy getting you. Anyway, we're waiting for... hang on, here they are."

I followed her sightline to find not one but two figures stepping off the lift. In front, Tali walked forward with the more blocky, octagonal tube of a shotgun balanced on her shoulder. Behind her, to my surprise, walked Jenkins. The Marine waved affably.

"As I was saying, we have an additional member assigned to our little training squad today. Private Jenkins has requested a refresher course."

"Just felt a little rusty," Jenkins said with a cheesy grin. "Eden Prime was an eye opener, I guess."

At that I raised my eyebrow. While Jenkins may have been reckless in his initial charge, his marksmanship had been pretty good as far as I could tell during the mission on Eden Prime. Could be he was here to keep me company. We'd chatted a number of times since I'd woken up on the Normandy. It might be plausible, but he was surely missing out on some more important ship duties to come down here with us. So, unless there was another reason... I eyed him critically and noticed how closely he was standing to Tali. Maybe there was something there.

"Can you repeat that back to me, Deputy?" Ashley asked.

"I, um, sorry, what?" I spluttered.

Ashley made an impatient noise. "Range rules, Deputy. The ammo you just loaded is rated as less than lethal, but if you shoot yourself in the foot, you're going to have a bad time."

My voice caught in my throat, but I pushed forwards, hoping that not much had changed in the realm of basic shooting safety in the last hundred or so years. "First, treat every firearm as if it were loaded." I looked over at Ashley. She hadn't shaken her head or given any other indication that I had failed, so I continued. "Second, never point your weapon at anything you do not intend to shoot. Third, keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire. Fourth, keep your safety on until you are ready to fire."

"Almost exactly as it appears in the manual, looks like you've been saved by doing your homework, Deputy. From now on, you are eyes and ears on at all times. This is my range and you will respect it, and me. You get me?"

"I get you, Chief."

"Good. Now, follow me." Ashley led us over to the area before the Normandy's landing ramp. The area had been transformed overnight. A full pop-up range had been assembled beside the Mako, complete with holographic targets, a foamlike back stop, and taped out firing positions. Ashely lined the three of us up about halfway into the bay. "Now, obviously we can't run you through the full qualification course. The Alliance Navy, in all its wisdom, has neglected to equip this frigate with a hundred-meter and five-hundred-meter range. So, we'll be running assault drills today. Usually, we'd have a week of dry runs before we got here, but the Commander has given me a day and a half to put you through your paces." The gunnery sergeant paced behind us as she spoke.

"The purpose of this drill is to test your moving and firing capabilities at short engagement ranges most often seen in combat. You will begin with your weapon at rest. When I call 'contact,' you will zero on your target and fire one round before returning to rest. When I call 'assault,' you will advance to your next mark with your weapon at the ready. During the assault, if I call contact, you will zero on your target and fire three rounds. If I call 'halt,' you will immediately stop what you are doing and return your weapon to rest. Is that understood?"

A chorus of "Understood" answered her.

"Good. Alright, let's see some shooting. Contact!"


The ringing in my ears didn't stop until dinner time that night. The range drills had dragged late into the second watch. We had fired from standing, while walking, from taking a knee, and dropping to the deck on our stomachs. Ashley had set a brutal pace, and each run on the target left me a little short on breath. Even now, my knees ached. But, as much as my body creaked and groaned, by spirit soared. After some shaky shooting in the morning, I had kept up with my two training mates. While I wouldn't be winning any awards for marksmanship, I had no complaints about my final scores. And neither had Ashley.

Now, the three of us shared boxed rations around a table towards the edge of the mess hall. Lunch had been cleared by the time we emerged from our training, and it would be some hours before the mess attendants would be doling out chow. So, Jenkins and I munched on rehydrated noodles out of a package, while Tali sipped on something a most unfoodlike shade of blue-green.

"So, Tali'Zorah, you're a pretty hot shot with a shotgun huh?" Jenkins asked.

I almost choked on a sprig of something claiming to be broccoli. I tried to warn Jenkins about Tali's sore spot with my eyes, but the marine persisted.

"Wish I could qualify on a hip shooter like that, but us marines get stuck with the Lancer." Jenkins mimed shouldering a rifle and firing full auto. To my surprise, Tali wasn't riled by Jenkin's question. In fact, she laughed lightly, almost a giggle.

"You can just call me Tali. The sergeant calling me 'Miss Zorah' all day makes me feel like I'm back in school. And I wouldn't get too jealous. On the Flotilla, the Marines hoarded all the rifles we could scrounge up. I got the pistol and shotgun training because it was what we had available. Not that I would give it up. I love my old Storm. And my tech whiz skills." She offered me a meaningful look.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed," I offered, letting the package of cooling noodles fall to the table.

"Apology accepted," Tali responded primly. She lowered he own food. "And I should not have bitten your head off. I'm sure you didn't mean anything by it. It was just a shock, you know? I may be just starting out on my pilgrimage, but I know how people see us quarians. I've been called worse than a tech whiz getting from the Flotilla to the Citadel. The Normandy was the first ship to give me a ride without expecting something from me, be it credits, or fixing their engines for them, or even just keeping an extra close eye on me. You know, to make sure I wasn't stealing."

I let out a held breath. "When you put it like that, I guess I must look like a total thoughtless lunk, huh." I kicked myself again.

"Not a total thoughtless 'lunk,'" Tali replied lightly, "but I'd be lying if it didn't make me feel like I was once again going to have to pitch in or get out. Speaking with the engineers yesterday, I saw how run the ship was. And they were so nice, so complimentary. Which I think is what you for going for before you but your boot in your mouth."

"Yeah. Still, I feel bad."

"Don't." Tali returned to sipping on her rations. "At least you don't act like a girl not taking your compliment is a personal challenge, or something. I could tell you some stories that have you looking like a real paragon."

"Truce?" I asked, extending my hand.

"Truce," Tali agreed. She took my hand in her two fingered grip and we shook. The ship also shook, something I had come to associate with transitioning through a mass relay. It wasn't long before the intercom squawked.

We had arrived over Edolus.


Author's Note:

Welcome to the first brand new, never before seen content of this rewrite. I always felt that there was a section missing in the narrative where we take our man Liddle from a universal unknown to having the basic competencies required to take a part in the story of Mass Effect. Let me know how you like it.

-Liddle Out