Interloper Rewrite: Chapter 19
New Arrivals
"So, this is Arcturus station?" I leaned up against the exterior window on the Normandy as the little frigate transitioned out of FTL over the spinning ring of the space station capital of the Systems Alliance. The bright spill of coruscating radiation gave way to the pinprick lights of countless windows. The sight was awe inspiring, not as large as the Citadel, but immeasurably more solid, more real. A turning hive of steel in space, unmasked by the ethereal Serpent Nebula. Something eclipsed the view, the silhouetted hull of our sister transport. The viewport shivered slightly as our docking collars aligned. The bridge neck behind me filled with the quiet row of moving feet and hushed voices as a stream of returning crewmen made their way over the docking tube.
"Yeah, that's Arcturus Station alright," Joker said, "it may look pretty big on the outside, but it's cramped as all hell in there." Our view shifted as the two ships turned in tandem. I stood there, watching the buzz of traffic. Like the Citadel, the station was surrounded by ships both big and small, swarming along inbound and outbound lanes or else hanging parked in space. My jaw dropped as a passing freighter moved aside to uncover the huge shapes of the Alliance's dreadnaughts. Three of them hung there, like triangular skyscrapers suspended just off the underside of the station, gun bores the size of the Normandy poking out from the central spire. Their shadows were long, blotting out the lights of a whole swathe of Arcturus.
"Deputy Liddle?"
I slowly peeled myself away from the view to see Chief Ferro leaning against a pair of crutches. She had replaced her ruined flight suit with a set of Alliance duty blues. She smiled broadly. I smiled back, nervous, though I did not know why.
"Chief, it's good to see you up and about," I said, "What brings you to the Normandy?"
The shuttle pilot leaned heavily on one of her crutches and reached behind her back. "I believe that this belongs to you." She pulled out the folded red form of my Devlon Stinger. She shuffled forward and dropped the weapon into my outstretched hand. The heavy weight of it felt comforting in my palm. A return of an old friend. I gripped the folded steel tightly. "It's a nice gun," she continued, "got some nasty scars there, though. One day you'll have to tell me the story that goes along with them." She backed off and threw me an informal salute. With a last nod, she turned and hobbled away to return to her ship. I ran my fingers over the winding lines that had been etched into the pistol by the exploding beacon. A jolt went up my fingertips as they brushed the curled metal, an echo answered in the dark parts of my brain hidden behind the neural shroud. I pushed the engraved memories away and clipped the pistol back onto my belt. The final crewmembers were now aboard. On the bridge, Joker coordinated with the pilot of the Valley Forge. A slight tremor ran through the ship as the docking tube retracted. Out the front viewport, I saw the Valley Forge pull ahead and away from us, spiraling down to unload the wounded onto one of Arcturus Station's bays. The glimmer of an approaching shuttle caught my attention.
"Hey Joker, what's going on with that shuttle? Looks like it's coming straight at us." The shape grew more distinct, the details of the craft sharper in the viewscreen. It was definitely one of the standard Alliance craft, but it looked like something was slung below it.
"That's because it is," Joker replied, completely unfazed, "those are our reinforcements. Looks like we've got a replacement for the Mako too."
"A new Mako?" I asked with a thrill. I had forgotten about the damage I taken in the fighting vehicle during our impromptu spacewalk after the chaos of our landing.
"Yeah, Adams wasn't too happy about the state you brought the old one back in. The shuttle's going to have to haul it away to be scrapped."
"It's going to be sad to see it gone," I said, and I meant it. I had run over a Maw in that tank. I understood the appreciation Alliance drivers had for the thing.
"Yeah, well, try not to break this one, okay?" Joker said. "You should head on down there, meet the newbies."
I nodded. The thought of a new Mako had my whole body thrumming with barely contained energy. I walked back through the ship towards the cargo bay as quickly as I could without breaking into a jog. The ship had returned to its usual business, forcing me to weave my way past crewmen as their stations. It no longer felt as empty as it had on the trip back from the Armstrong system. Another, more marked change was the change in demeanor. The crew finally seemed to be able to relax, something they hadn't done since we ran into the Geth drones. Some crewmen were even smiling and laughing amongst themselves. The damage we had taken in the fight with the Geth cruiser and the airlifts on Casbin had already been mostly patched up, although some areas still looked a little rough in places. I stepped into the cargo elevator and hit the down button on the pad. When the doors opened, I almost gasped in shock. I was looking right out into empty space. It took me a second to remember the mass effect fields that held the atmosphere inside. The nose of the shuttle edged forward just outside the bounds of the field. The underslung Mako was unhooked and pulled forward by Normandy techs. The Mako's mass effect fields must have been active, because it floated weightlessly through the air above the deck. The tank was gently lowered to the ground in place of the hulk of the original, which must have already been pushed outside. The new Mako was a pristine white, with Alliance markings painted on in crisp lines.
"She's a thing of beauty, isn't she?" Jenkins walked up beside me, looking at the tank. "Makes me wonder what kind of terrible things you'll do to it next time you take it out." A cheeky grin was spread across his face.
"Hey, you were there all those times too," I replied, "anyway, I think I'm going to take care of this one; It's shiny." I looked out over the fresh paint and unchipped armor plate and felt my heart fill with anticipation. "We still on for fixing up those leaks?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jenkins answered, nodding. "Might let you run this one on your own, you know, for the experience."
"For the experience of you sitting on your ass, you mean," I clapped my friend on the back, shoving him lightly. "Nice try, Rick."
The technicians finished unhooking the Mako, letting it rest on its suspension. The shuttle nudged its way past the barrier and set down beside the tank. With the Mako already parked, the shuttle ended up almost filling the entire space of the hold. The shuttle's door slid up and over, almost scraping the ceiling of the hold. The craft disgorged four marines, each dressed in battle dress uniform with a duffel bag slung over their shoulders. The first three looked like veterans, tough and battle-hardened. The last guy looked much younger, maybe even a little younger than me. They all had close shorn hair, even the woman who took up the lead of the small group. As the last guy left the shuttle, it closed its doors and retreated from the hold. The ramp closed up behind it with a grinding of machinery. Lieutenant Alenko greeted the new marines warmly, as if he knew at least some of them. I caught a flash of pale blue light as Alenko and the woman shook hands. She was a biotic.
"Hand me that steel block, my Omni-tool's out," Jenkins said past teeth clenched around the sealing tool. I carefully shuffled around in the tight crawlspace, my hand reaching blindly for the spare material pod tucked into my thigh pocket. My fingers caught the sharp-edged block of high-grade patching metal and fished it out. I dropped it on the ground and gave it a shove, sending it skittering along the floor grating. It stopped short of where Jenkins stood on the other side of the corridor. I stopped my work, inwardly cursing the steel block. I twisted from where I lay under the still dripping stressed water pipes to get a view of what had arrested the block's motion. Just beyond the tips of my work boots, at the edge of my vision, the block lay shining on the deck, trapped under a shiny black dress shoe.
Oh shit.
"XO Pressly, sir!" Jenkins squeaked. The bottom fell out of my stomach.
"Corporal," Pressly's reply was almost bored, disinterested, perhaps a little tired. "A word." The dress shoes faced the work boots as the two men squared off. "I've been reading over the after-action reports for the operation down on Casbin. While your conduct during the rescue was commendable, I... who's that down there working with you? You're the only crewman assigned to this section."
The crawlspace suddenly felt very tight indeed. My insides crawled, contracted. The whistling, hollow feeling of being caught, the sick sensation of a lie folding in on itself, coiled inside me. My throat refused to work as I attempted to answer. Out in the tunnel, Jenkins attempted to stammer a defense for me.
"Out with it," Pressley demanded, "Corporal, if you've been falling behind and shanghaiing someone else in your section to catch up, I'll have on report. I know how you Corporals operate. Come on out of there, crewmen!" The XO's demand became an ultimatum. It was time to face the music and accept whatever punishment came my way. Hopefully Jenkins wouldn't catch too much flak. I shimmied backwards, slowly worming my way out into the maintenance run. Pressley's stern frown turned to anger with such abruptness that I almost bolted back into the pipes. "You," the ship's navigator said flatly.
"Sir," I managed. I timidly stood up before the XO's scathing glare.
"Deputy Liddle," Pressley began. His voice betrayed the lack of regard he had for my assumed title. "I had thought I'd made myself quite clear on the matter of you joining the duty roster. And now I find you here, working essentially unsupervised?" He stepped closer, forcing me to step back. "You were working on the pipes in this crawlspace?" He asked tersely.
"Yes sir, I," I began, but he cut me off with a look.
"Stand aside, let me take a look at this. If my ship falls apart because of some novice playing around in the maintenance spaces, I swear..." The older man dropped to his knees and snaked into the space I'd just left with a speed and agility that belied his apparent age. It wasn't long before he popped back out, grunting slightly as he rose and brushed off his knees. "You did all the work on those pipes?" He asked, his eyes narrowed inquisitively. I was taken aback by the sudden change in tone.
"Yes sir. And all the one on this side of the run." I motioned to the side of the passage I'd split with Jenkins. Pressley stalked down the corridor, muttering. When he returned, the anger was gone from his face, replaced by his usual officiousness.
"Hmm, passable. Just passable. It seems that Corporal Jenkins is a better trainer than I suspected. Alright, Liddle, you want on the duty roster, you'll have it. Not unsupervised. No. But if you want to lend a hand, I'll allow it." He drew up his Omni-tool and tapped out a quick series of keystrokes. "I've got my eye on you, though. The both of you." With that, he stomped off, leaving me and Jenkins looking at each other in mute surprise.
Once I was sure he was done, my face split in a wide smile. The sense of relief rushed through me, blowing out the gnawing monster in my gut.
The maintenance cycle came to an end without further wrinkles. The new arrivals settled in quickly, judging by the way they'd already spread out across the crew spaces, where they immediately set about shining their armor and running maintenance on their weapons. They all toted assault rifles, but the biotic woman also carried a shotgun, while the younger guy had a sniper rifle. I surreptitiously watched them as I read my mail. Somehow, somewhere, my name had managed to find its way onto the extranet. While the fact that I now existed in the galaxy I had found myself in was oddly comforting, it had now opened up my personal mailbox to ungodly amounts of spam. At the bottom of the pile of junk offers, a single message stood out. The subject box contained a black box. The message prompted me to enter a password when I clicked on it. The message was an update on the Kohoku situation. The reply had come back along the chain of comm. buoys from one of Hackett's aides. According to the message, a task force had been mobilized to investigate an anonymous tip. They arrived at the planet Nepheron to find the place leveled. At least this planet was uninhabited. I thought. That was the end of my useful knowledge on Kohoku and Cerberus. I tapped my lip and wracked my brain for any information that I could use to stop the rogue admiral. I came up empty. I gave it up as a bad job and closed down my Omni-tool. By now the new arrivals had finished with their maintenance and left the crew barracks. I slipped off of my bunk and wandered down towards the mess hall. I felt the rumble of a mass relay transition and knew we were already on our way to Noveria. I wasn't looking forward to fighting the Rachni. I bumped into Garrus coming the other way.
"Ah, Liddle, I was just looking for you." The Turian said, "Those marines we just picked up brought some interesting new armor mods on board. I saved you a few pieces." He motioned for me to follow him. "Grab that rifle I gave you too, I have an idea." We stopped by my locker and hauled out the sack which held my armor and weapons. Down in the hold, Garrus led me over to the requisition officer's table. After looking around he pulled out a crate from under the table.
"What am I looking at?" I asked once he had tugged open the lid. I reached in and pulled out what felt and looked like a baggy fabric.
"It's a thermal layer to your armor. Noveria is so cold it's barely habitable. I had to pull out my old cold weather gear from my days back in the Hierarchy military."
"So long johns then?" I held up the padded suit. It was a light grey, with a black fibrous stitching running across it in a diamond pattern."
"A little more advanced than that," Garrus chuckled, "those fibers conduct heat from your hardsuit's kinetic barriers and spread it across your suit, as well as offering basic insulation. If you take apart your armor, I can help you thread it through."
"Alright, here. I'll start with the legs." The two of us took seats at the small table and began the job of insulating my armor. The work wasn't difficult, just time consuming. The fabric had to be pushed into the rubberized, soft part of the armor until it lay flush across the entire surface, then bonded to the shell with an electrostatic charge. I looked around the bay for something to talk about while we worked. My eyes fell on Engineering.
"So, did you hear about Tali and Dubyansky?" I asked.
"I didn't take you for someone who had much interest in gossip," Garrus replied, "but yes, I heard about their little⦠misunderstanding." The Turian looked up from his work and shifted his focus onto me. "To tell the truth, I'm not surprised at what happened. Quarians aren't too popular, even amongst the Council races. When they created the Geth, they lost a lot of friends."
"Yeah, but that was hundreds of years ago. Tali didn't create the Geth." I replied. The nonchalant badmouthing of the Quarians had caught me by surprise.
"Oh, I'm not denying that. In fact, the girl seems dead-set on correcting her people's mistakes. She risked her life to secure some data from the Geth outpost down on Casbin. The Commander almost had to drag her away from the console. There, that should do it." I picked up the suit of armor and held it up. It was now noticeably thicker.
"So, you had an idea about the rifle?" I asked, drawing the rifle. It sprang open with a series of whirrs.
"Yes, I figured that your biggest issue was holding it steady, if you install a gyroscopic stabilizer in that thing, you should be in business."
"And you just so happen to have a gyroscopic stabilizer, I suppose."
"In fact, I do, it'll need some calibrating, of course." He fished a small metal component from the crate and tossed it over. I caught the piece and set about putting it into place. It slid in easily enough. I scoped in on the wall across the way. Sure enough, the crosshairs moved much less. I laid aside the weapon and pulled out my pistol. If I was going over my weapons, I may as well check all of them. The pistol's ammo block release tab was sticky. Hitting it with my thumb didn't dislodge it.
"Come on, Cam, don't do this to me," I murmured, attempting to lever the thing open.
"Cam? Why would you name your weapon Cam?" Garrus looked over. He was working on his own weapon.
"Winona was taken," I replied, finally releasing the catch. The tungsten block inside was gnarled and broken. I tapped it out on the table and shoved in a block of shredder ammo. The block shimmered as light reflected off of the thousands of pre-cut leaf shapes. The weapon closed and opened freely after that.
"What is it with humans and naming your weapons women's names?" Garrus asked.
"I don't know. What's your gun's name then?" I asked.
"Laetus, after the turian spirit of Knowledge and Justice," Garrus said proudly, "I've had this rifle since before I joined C-Sec."
"And is Laetus a female spirit?" I asked. Garrus looked evasive. "I can just look it up on the extranet you know." I fired up my Omni-tool.
"Laetus is a spirit, it doesn't count," Garrus said defensively.
"You just keep telling yourself that," I said smugly. The ship shook with another transition. "We're really booking it."
"It seems that way. At this rate we'll be at Noveria in no time."
Author's Note:
Happy Halloween, everybody!
