Palla Fennaba was bone tired. She had grown up a Pleb, little better than a slave in the Hegemony and seen as useless outside the role of child bearing. She had, in response, worked her looks off. She grew tall and strong, which among Batarians meant ugly, all to make herself as unappealing as possible while also able to fend off the advances she knew she'd face.
It hadn't been enough, and her family found someone who appreciated strong females; specifically, he appreciated the chance to break them into submission. She fled home and was on the first 'merchantman' she could stow away on.
She continued working hard, mostly to ingratiate herself to the Captain long enough to reach any port of call. It took a full year before they arrived at a planet called Illium. In that time, she learned the 'Privateers' trade, and was well feared by her fellow crewmates. They were all very happy to see her go.
She'd spent a season just wandering the planet. It was borderline lawless, so there was ample work for a veteran Merc like herself. It was a simple existence, and one she appreciated for the freedom it afforded her. That all ended the day a Quarian Marine Assault Team blew through a Huntress team and nearly every Illium Secret Police officer in the city. She saw something that day she had never seen before: selflessness. They hadn't come there to assassinate someone, or kidnap anyone.
They were there to rescue a child from a fate she couldn't imagine.
In that moment, all her accomplishments felt hollow and meaningless. She wanted better, needed better. She needed to find them. It turned out to be amazingly easy, almost as if she was meant to find them. She would have scoffed at the idea, were it not for the things she had seen since arriving on the Normandy.
Now she was here, becoming a part of something greater, something meaningful,
"Spirits, even my fringe aches! Why do we need to be able to run ten kilometers carrying 80 kilos?" One of the Turians grumbled as he set his tray of food down; looking at the long stringy worm shaped food with curiosity and distaste.
...And something exhausting. The hooman Adrian, despite his apparent advanced age, was an absolutely brutal taskmaster. At least one of the Asari had already left; 'washed out' as the hoomans called it. Palla wasn't surprised; most of the Council races were so dependent on technology to help them along with simple daily tasks, that the very idea of exertion seemed anathema to them.
"This… the spaghetti's orange; why is it orange?" one of the older humans asked.
One that looked to be of similar age just snorted, "Signor, that is most decidedly not spaghetti; it's MRE noodles mixed with ketchup as sauce."
A younger human just narrowed his eyes and smelled it; "Looks okay to me, much better than the reconstituted bread rations you got in the cities." he noted, raising an eye ridge at the other two.
"C'mon Huskey, as a fellow New Yorker Italian you must see the atrocity that this meal is." The second human snorted, even as he grudgingly ate the food.
Palla glanced down at the food on her tray. She'd spent her youth eating worse, but not by much. What surprised her was the amount; she ate more in a single sitting than she had in an entire day before leaving her home, and maybe half again as much as any single meal she'd had during her Privateering stint. Still, she always felt it was not quite enough. She chalked it up to the shear exertion of the last several weeks.
"Slow down there Knife Witch, this ain't gonna be your last meal." Palla flinched and looked to see the human she'd accidentally stabbed in the foot looking at her with curious eyes.
One of the other Turians snorted, "Please, just eat; this is more food I've gotten in one meal than I did in a few days of basic." He buzzed. "Still, this is more physical labor I've done in just a few days than in my entire two years in my mandatory service."
Palla paused at that.
It was a strange thought, that she and a 'law-abiding' Turian might have anything at all in common. "Was the training much different?" The question was out of her mouth before she even realized. She tensed up; in her experience, drawing attention to oneself was a quick way to punishment detail or worse.
She saw nearly every scale on the Turian flutter in his people's version of a huff. "Not even close! Most of our training was in coordinated movements and technical operations; you had to know how to use the equipment, follow orders and move as a unit. If you excelled, or had family in the right places," he buzzed under his breath, "then you might get advanced training. Training like we're doing." He glanced at the various humans. "Is this seriously the way your people trained? And you still lost? What kind of monsters were you fighting?"
The other humans looked interested, though the oldest two looked unimpressed; "Yeah, Bast and I were in the National Guard; a kind of local militia given military equipment for you Council guys. In all honesty this isn't really that bad; especially since there's only the one DI, rather than five or six just waiting to give you a shark attack." The one that had been complaining about the food said offhandedly. "Of course, all of our military was a Professional Volunteer Army; which means that only… damn not even one percent of our people were in the military. Quality over Quantity and all that."
The one called Bast nodded as well, "Yeah our Country, The United States of America, was the sort of global Hegemon at the time; and we only ever introduced mass conscription once, and even then we maintained the same high training standards." His face grew contemplative and he looked down. "We lost because… well the Combine had conquered entire Universes before coming to our little planet; in all honesty it was kind of amazing we lasted as long as we did." He stated, digging into his meal; almost… resigned for lack of a better term.
It still all seemed so bizarre to Palla. She'd lived an oppressed life so that part was 'old hat' as the hoomans called it. But the rest: non-Biotic Biotics, interdimensional empires, non-Eezo based Mass Effect technology? She'd laugh at the ideas if she hadn't seen some of it for herself.
"How long did you last?" One of the few Asari that had stuck it out asked.
"Seven Hours." Husky stated simply. The assembled people all gaped. "Or nineteen years, if you count the ongoing insurgency; assuming the Consul, Administrator, and Commandant haven't squashed it in the two years we've been gone."
That was something else Palla could relate with. Despite heavy censorship, or perhaps because of it, any time there was even a hint of rebellion the Hegemony spared no effort in crushing it and letting everyone in the Hegemony know all the gruesome details.
"1st Platoon! Orders changed, everyone up!" A Familiar voice bellowed. Palla snapped to her feet, as did the rest of 1st Platoon; the other crew members occupying the mess hall all turned to look at the commotion in confusion. "We are running the ship again! Double the gravity! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"
Palla, as well as everyone else including the other hoomans groaned in unison and began jogging.
Garrus clutched his head, his mandibles slack even as the throbbing in his head started to settle down a bit. It seemed to be a more frequent occurrence these days, which Professor Solus had been kind enough to explain; he was dealing with 'Stress Headaches', a common affliction with Turians who overworked themselves.
He had given Garrus a mandatory day off, while Doctor Chambers had given him something called 'Advil' to help relieve the head pain; which after taking the pill and drinking a glass of water he did feel somewhat better.
"A yellow bird with a yellow bill
Was sittin' on my window sill;
I lured him in with a piece of bread,
And then I smashed his little head!"
Garrus winced as First Platoon led by Gunnery Sergeant Shephard jogged by his quarters; even with his door closed he could still hear everything going on, particularly the vomiting by some of the recruits.
He was both chagrined and amused by the Gunny's methods of training; although from what he'd heard it was actually rather standard training for most human militaries, as most had 'Professional Standing Armies', meaning that there was no conscription of any kind.
It was an interesting concept, and if what many of the human veterans that survived the Seven Hour War had claimed was true; then it was certainly a concept worth looking into regarding the Council races as a whole.
Refocusing his attention back to his Omnitool, he ran another search for the target of much of his stress as of late; Vestris' biological mother. He had meant what he had said in the medbay; he was going to find Vestris' mother, and he was going to get answers from her. Garrus blinked, as a feeling that he was forgetting something washed over him for a moment; before he shrugged it off.
If he had forgotten, then it likely wasn't important; it was his mandatory day off, he had no duties to attend to, Vestris was in her room playing on a Playtool, so there wasn't anything that needed to be taken care of.
The hatch to Vestris' room opened, and she walked out with a confused expression on her face; contrasting sharply with her new Vakarian clan markings. "I just felt… pain… and sickness move past. What happened?" She asked with an innocent expression on her face.
Garrus had to fight down a chagrined laugh as he shrugged, "Gunny Shephard just ran by with 1st Platoon, and they're supposed to be eating lunch." He replied.
She just blinked, before shrugging and walking over to Garrus; "So… Dad…" She started uncertainly, and Garrus still felt the awkwardness and unfamiliarity at the word; "I heard from some of the other Apprentices that you were going to be leaving soon. Some kind of special mission."
Garrus frowned, he would need to have a talk with Ayita about clamping down on rumours and hearsay; it wouldn't take long for a secret or false rumour to get blown out of proportion. "Well, those rumours are false kiddo." He reassured her, "I've been looking into some stuff, but not anything that warrants a special mission off the ship."
Vestris seemed to sag somewhat in relief, and Garrus tilted his head curiously. She seemed to sense his confusion and looked down at her feet, "It's dumb but I'm scared that if you leave, then you won't come back. Or that you'll find my mother and send me away."
Garrus wanted to dismiss her concerns, but couldn't bring himself to say that it wasn't warranted. The fact of the matter was that in the Hierarchy itself, there was a very real chance that your parents would be dead by the time you reached the age for mandatory training. Garrus and his sister were lucky, both of their parents were alive; although his mother's condition was advancing as time went on.
"You can feel when someone is telling the truth, right?" Garrus waited for Vestris to nod and look up. He took one of her talons and placed it over his heart. "I will never give you up, and I will always find a way to come home to you." He watched as the girl's eyes flickered green before she lunged forward and hugged his neck while crying.
He held her tight, even as thoughts about her mother whirled through his mind. I will get my answers from her; and I'll be damned before I give her up. He vowed, even as another thought crossed his mind. Once Vestris had calmed down, Garrus buzzed slightly as he thought of a way to bring it up; before asking, "So… what do you think of Ms. Tali?"
Vestris tilted her head and buzzed in thought; "Well… she's strong." She said hesitantly. "Not like 'arm wrestle a Krogan' strong or anything, but you can just feel like she has strength; like she'd find a way to arm wrestle that Krogan."
Garrus chuckled at the memories from the first year on the Normandy, and how Tali would wrangle the crew and survivors through brute force of personality. "That she is. Anything else?"
"She hurts almost all the time." Garrus' chuckles died in his throat. "She hides it, but she's always sad; so she works super hard so nobody else is." Vestris looked up at Garrus. "The sad and the pain go away when she's around you."
Garrus' mandibles went slack as he fully processed what Vestris had just said, and then swept her up in another hug; "Thanks for telling me kid; this'll be something that I'll be talking with her about, you can be sure of that."
There was a loud shriek that jostled them both out of their thoughts; and Garrus laughed, I knew I forgot something. He realized, only just now remembering that Tali had been due to return from the Bridge; and that meant she would have to cross the minefield of vomit to get to their quarters.
Vestris quickly read his thoughts, and she started to laugh as well; He may end up sleeping on the couch for it, but it was worth it to hear his daughter laugh.
Garrus stood at parade rest in front of the Security Board; even as he mentally reviewed his arguments for undertaking this operation. If they allowed him to go, he was going to take Vestris with him, and he had no intention of taking 'No' as an answer.
The Board made up of all the old folks warily eyed the Turian. "And why exactly should we release you on some personal quest?" Wrex asked suspiciously.
"We've already heard some very concerning rumors coming out of Council space," commented Admiral 'Raan while leaning back in her chair, "particularly out of the three Councilor States. The sheer magnitude of the propaganda being stirred up is astonishing."
General-Admiral 'Zorah looked pensively at his fellow board members. "Wouldn't that make for an ideal time to send an agent? The Turians in particular seem split on this matter; Patrol Intelligence has reported more than a dozen regular patrol groups being diverted into Hierarchy space."
Garrus had heard of the rise in anti-Flotilla propaganda. Fleet and Flotilla, a long running melodrama about the Turian and Quarian people had been pulled from syndication. In its place was a fictional war drama called Valor of the Spirit, which notably featured a mad Quarian scientist as its chief antagonist. He'd tried watching an episode but hadn't made it through 20 minutes at first. Then Sergeant Massani came in and turned the show into a drinking game: take a shot every time a character declared, "for Valor!" or "with the blessings of the Spirits!". It was probably for the best that he'd been unable to make it back to his shared quarters after that one episode, as Tali would have just had him sleep it off in the doorway.
"Is something funny, Mister Vakarian."
He cleared his throat. "Only in the right context sirs. But as the General-Admiral said, this is as good a time as any to secure intelligence about what's happening in the Council interior. I am both ready and willing to go there on, as the Battlemaster described it, a 'personal quest'. You all also know I have a very compelling reason to return."
The Board shuffled uncomfortably; the daughter of one of the Admiralty taking up with a Turian was something of an open secret. Some even considered it a scandal, though none said so openly where either Rael or Shala could hear.
Especially not given Cato and Ayita's relationship.
"At the very least, I can get eyes on the ground and see how the Turian people are feeling about this; whether or not they will grudgingly go along with the Council, or if open rebellion is a possibility." Garrus said.
Benezia leaned back in her chair, and contemplated her omnitool for a moment; "If you had told me two or three years ago that the Hierarchy was on the verge of civil war then I would have called you crazy; but as it stands nothing can be ruled out now." She tapped a few commands into the conference table, "I suppose the timing on this is a little too on the nose, but the Council is demanding a delegation of Quarian representatives come to the Citadel to discuss our intervention against a 'Batarian Humanitarian Fleet'."
Rael shared a glance with Shala, before looking at Benezia, "Is it time for 'The Mistress'; the last of the Kelek'Miin to step into the light of the galactic community and reveal herself as the true backer of our reversal of fortunes?" He asked, only somewhat sarcastically.
Garrus turned to Ayita, down at the end of the table.
The poor woman got next to no freetime, split between teaching the Apprentices, learning RealPolitic, and raising Ori; it was clear it was taking its toll on her, but she was holding up under the strain rather well, except for a grey streak in her hair.
He felt a frown cross his face. That hadn't been there this morning. He thought with a hint of worry.
He turned his attention back to Matriarch Benezia as he heard her sigh in resignation; "I have little doubts the Council, or at least Tevos, knows about 'The Mistress'; so I believe it would be best to introduce her in a controlled manner and prevent Tevos from framing the narrative."
Garrus felt his unease grow; it felt to him like things were moving too fast. But it seemed like they had no choice. He had felt genuinely sickened when he had read some of the things Tevos had done to rise to the top of the nest of Vipers that was the Council of Matriarchs; and the act that had won her the crown was in fact the Morning War, the near genocide of the Quarians.
It was appalling to think he had spent years happily serving someone, something so hideously self serving and amoral, as had a hundred generations of Turians before him. Spirits above, we need rescuing as much as the Humans do.
"And we will."
Garrus jolted at the familiar sense of Ayita's mind. "Thanks." He shot her a weak smile. He thought as loudly as he could. "You look like a well-done Headcrab. When was the last time you took a break?"
"A while ago." She answered vaguely, trying her best to sound dismissive; but it didn't quite work, since Garrus could pick up the mild exhaustion in her voice.
"Do I need to get Cato or Doctor Chambers on your case?"
"No-no-no, of course not; I was planning on taking a break tonight before we left for the trip." She replied, sounding a little alarmed at the prospect.
Garrus saw her eyes flash at the thought which crossed his mind, but she was not fast enough to pre-empt him "How quickly do we need to assemble this... delegation? This doesn't strike me as something where we can afford to skip cleaning under the frills."
Ayita seemed about to voice her opinion on Garrus' implication of dawdling, when Benezia primly nodded. "Indeed not. And as the Quarians have not had a proper diplomatic delegation to send anywhere, they can be forgiven for taking their time in assembling one."
Garrus felt Ayita's annoyance filter into his mind, "I wasn't lying!" She snapped furiously, "I was going to take a break tonight; now I'm tempted not to just to spite you." Despite her harsh words, he knew that she didn't mean it and ignored her.
"So who's going?" Zaeed asked, kicking back and putting his boots on the table; lowering his Campaign Hat over his eyes.
"We'll need someone known for their peaceful nature and in spite of that, able to protect themselves." Rael stated, turning and looking at Admiral 'Raan.
It took her a moment for her to realize that everyone was looking at her, and when she did her eyes flashed silvery-emerald; "Me? You must be joking." She protested. "I'm the least experienced and important Admiral, to say nothing of my diplomat-"
"You're Vortal." Wrex stated simply, cutting off the women's protests, "On top of having the standard abilities inherent of those that possess it; you have more empathic abilities, which is perfect for diplomats. I would like to point out that even before little Ori accidentally unlocked your abilities, you had an uncanny ability to sniff out lies and people's true intentions."
"And your combat abilities nearly match Cato's, who's the only one able to even try and match my power and control." Ayita added, giving the Admiral a tired smile. "I'll need at least one frindly face where we're going."
"I will be going as well." Benezia added to no one's surprise. "My presence will keep Tevos... honest in her initial dealings." A faint purple halo formed around her for a moment. "She won't dare to influence anyone while another Matriarch is there, so any attempts later have a greater chance of causing cognitive dissonance in her victims, and that no doubt will give us room to maneuver when she ultimately makes her play at war."
"We'll need more than just us of course." Shala finally said after a long moment of thought.
"We'll take a squad of Marines and Apprentices, I'm still hesitant to reveal the Quarians greater connection to the Vortessence, even if 'The Mistress' is making an appearance. But at the very least, they will be there in case Tevos reacts... poorly." Benezia stated.
Everyone shuddered, remembering the report that Samara had found; Tevos and one of her daughters had apparently had an argument over her daughter having a Quarian lover shortly before the Morning War, and Tevos had snapped and caved in her own daughters head with a Biotic augmented punch.
Admiral 'Zorah cleared his throat to break everyone out of their collective fugue. "Then it's decided: Admiral 'Raan, Matriarch Benezia and Mistress Shepard will serve as the delegation, with an 'Honor Guard' and 'Attache's' in support. We'll transmit through the 1138 Relay via drone and inform them we are putting together a delegation and, 'reviewing appropriate protocols to avoid a diplomatic incident'. Say, 10 standard days?"
Benezia nodded and smiled in satisfaction. "That should do nicely for both missions. I would suggest that everyone involved in either mission spend the time getting what rest and familiar company as they can. We are unlikely to get another reprieve for some time."
Even as he walked out of the meeting Garrus knew exactly who he was going to take with him to Palavan; if only because he wanted her to meet his father, sister, and mother; assuming she was still… there…
Vestris was a given of course, since he refused to leave her alone; ever, and he didn't care what his father would think.
As he thought about it, he would need backup in case he got burned by Tevos' agents. From what he had read, she had formed something in the Asari government known as the 'People's Ministry of Asari Security' and he had little doubts that many Asari on Palavan who were lovers of Turians were in fact PMAS agents.
Tali… He knew that she was coming with him, if only to help disprove the propaganda that Tevos' machine had been outputting. He had to take a small team for mobility, and he turned to walk towards their quarters; still trying to think of who he could possibly take.
ZAP!
He blinked in surprise as he rounded the corner of the hall where his quarters were; and saw Vestris standing in the middle of it coming out of the pose used to fire lightning, and saw Kal and Kasumi standing there watching her.
"Hold your fire, friendly on the firing line." He faux shouted with a smile.
Vestris squeaked in surprise, "Dad! I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"It's okay, just watch where you shoot your lightning next time." He said good naturedly, walking up and running a hand on her frills to reassure her; before he turned serious, and turned to Kal and Kasumi, "I assume you two heard the news?"
"Aye." Kal nodded and crossed his arms.
"Yup, I was in the room listening in." Kasumi added with a grin, "Don't worry, I only told Kal; and only because you and Tali would have told him."
Garrus just shook his head. In the early days, Kas' penchant for sneaking into secret meetings had given the Security Council a number of headaches; but nowadays, everyone just rolled their eyes and shook their heads.
"Fine. You two are coming with." The two sputtered for a moment. "Nope. You sneak in on classified meetings, you get read in and involved. Plus," he put on his most obnoxious aire, "I can't in good conscience leave you two here now that you know. There's no telling who you'd tell."
Both shared a glance, then Kal laughed, "If this is your way of asking for our help, this is certainly a strange way of asking." He finally said.
Kasumi nodded vigorously, "Yup, we're in if you are indeed asking for our help." She added.
Garrus breathed a sigh, "Okay… now I just have to ask Tali."
"Ask me what?"
Palla threw her head back and groaned, even as she continued to kick her legs in the air.
Her abs and her legs were killing her, and it felt like every breath was a monumental effort. She could hear the other recruits suffering silently next to her; even as they did the flutter kicks as Gunny Shepard continued calling the cadence.
He was in a bad mood today.
Well, he was always in a bad mood, but today he seemed to be extra nasty and distracted. Granted, when he was actually teaching everyone a lesson or trying to get a point across, he could actually be pretty funny; and seemed almost reasonable. But then there were days like today it seemed where he… 'forgot' that he was dealing with trainees and not other soldiers.
Bast had been kind enough to explain that particular bit of info; most DI's did physical training to build you up, and also to reinforce that you followed orders. And the whole always angry routine was just a tactic to make sure you understood and make you react better under stress; after all if you couldn't handle some pushups and a person screaming at you, how would you handle bullets flying at you?
Bast had helpfully informed the others that Gunny Shepard and Sarge Maj Massani were both probably laughing their asses off at how they scared all the recruits today.
But then there were days like this where the DI was in a bad mood, through no fault of the platoon's; they just happened to be the best target to vent frustrations. She could see through the haze of pain Gunny Shepard going through the exercises just like he always did, and he didn't seem to be at all winded; meaning that they would probably be doing this for even longer.
He looked to the left, then stopped in his exercises and hopped to his feet. "ATTENTION ON DECK!" It was comical how the platoon took a collective breath and struggled to their feet; snapping to attention.
Palla looked with her upper two eyes and spotted their savoir, Admiral Shala'Raan; her arms crossed, and her eyes glowing Emerald rather than Silver. Palla fought down a shudder, she hadn't yet encountered any of these Vortal's; but already, her nerves were standing up on end.
She could feel the power coming from the middle aged Quarian, almost like there was a draw of gravity coming from her.
"At ease." The Admiral's voice was stern, but only in a commanding sense. Once everyone had relaxed slightly, she began talking while pacing back and forth. "We, the Admiralty and others," her eyes flashed again, "have monitored your progress over these past few months. Everyone here began with some level of combat training and basic military discipline. Those who have made it through have shown great promise: a willingness to endure, to set aside differences of species and background to support the greater whole, and adaptability under duress. These are all qualities we have been looking for in this unit. All of those characteristics will now be put to the test."
The gathered training Creche all tensed as she continued. "We are moving forward in our operations. You will be divided into two teams. The first will be providing executive security for myself and a small diplomatic team being sent to the Citadel. The second team will be deploying into Turian space as part of an initiative to feel out potential allies among the wider Citadel races."
Palla felt sweat run down the side of her face, but she knew which part she wanted to be a part of. She wanted to go with the diplomatic team, she wanted the Galaxy to see that her people were not just bands of pirates, slavers, and rapists. Assuming the mission was volunteer that is.
Gunny Shepard huffed, "As much as it may heartbreak you, I will not be joining you; as I will begin training 3rd Platoon while you idiots are out saving the galaxy." He grumped, crossing his arms, "But I do have a gift for you assholes."
Admiral 'Raan waved her arm, and a crate floated forward out of the stack in the corner of the room. Gunny Shepard walked over to the crate and ripped off the top, withdrawing an Armor Vest.
Palla and the other recruits stared at it, except for Bast and O'Day, the two human veterans; those two seemed to be amazed more than anything else.
It looked a bit like the bulky 'Flak-Vests' that Shepard and Massani tended to have them exercise in, though only a bit. The vest had rigid exterior panels, as well as multiple large pockets across the front and sides. Finally, there was a pair of blocky power packs on the lower back.
"This is the PCV, the Powered Combat Vest; externally, it uses High Impact Reactive Armor, like what was found in the Hazardous Environment Vehicle, or the HEV suit like what Gorden Freeman used. Internally, it uses self replicating nanites which vastly increase your speed, reaction time, endurance, strength, and your healing." Gunny Shepard explained, "And even without its power, it can still protect you from lower calibre weaponry."
Admiral 'Raan extended a hand, and the Vest floated outward, "This of course is an experimental reproduction, meant to be able to be adapted for Alien races other than humans; but beyond basic tests to make sure its safe, we don't know how successful this reproduction is. We of course need a volunteer to test its effectiveness." She explained, before turning her Emerald eyed gaze to the platoon, "Who would like to test it?"
There was a long drawn out silence, and Palla found herself looking left and right. The humans all grimaced, since the test was clearly not for them, meaning they wouldn't get to test it. The rest of the aliens all seemed uncertain, especially regarding the info pertaining to the Nanites.
When it became clear no one was going to volunteer, Palla sighed and stepped forward.
Gunny Shepards eyes brightened, "Ah… Knife Witch, I knew there was a reason I liked you." He said with the tiniest of smiles. He glanced into the crate and pulled out a vest. "Type-1/F: designed for Human Females, Batarian Females, and Asari." He passed it to Palla. "It's a side closure like the Flaks."
He stepped back and watched as Palla settled the vest over her head. It had a soft, almost gel-like interior layer which relieved some of its not inconsiderable weight. She latched the side closures, and immediately felt several small, rigid pressure points. Still, it was a snug and comfortable fit for-
Gunnery Sergeant Shepard tapped a control on the vest's front, and Palla gasped in surprise as needles jabbed into her breasts, her back, her abdomen, her neck, and her shoulders. Immediately, she felt a rush of energy, and the pain of the needles jabbing into her body vanished; as did all the soreness in her muscles. Palla lifted her hands with wide eyes, watching as the nicks in her fingers from whenever she sharpened her knives healed right in front of her disbelieving eyes.
"What…" She started, and she winced at the high pitched tone in her voice due to her surprise.
"Admiral if you would be so kind?" Shepard asked, even as he withdrew a standard Batarian infantry helmet; and set it on her head, attaching a small wire to the PCV.
Immediately, a green HUD popped up, but it was quite different to the bog standard HUD almost all council types seemed to share. The Admiral in the meantime placed her hand on the battery, and her hand glowed silvery-emerald; and the battery was fully charged in seconds.
"Now then, Recruit, does your HUD say 100% Health readings and 100% Armor power?" Gunny Shepard asked.
"Y-yes Gunnery Sergeant." Palla replied, cursing the waver and stammer in her voice.
"Good." The Gunny replied, before he walked over to another crate, "Now, don't move please."
Palla's eyes widened as he withdrew a CM1-Garand, the weapon that they had been training with, and promptly pointed it at her chest and fired.
Everyone except the Admiral jumped and hopped backward; while Palla staggered slightly, the vest going rigid as a small starburst of blue sparks came off the spot the round had hit her vest. Her Armor power dropped to 89%, but her Life readings stayed at 100%.
Shepard promptly safed the rifle and slung it, "As you can see, you are not dead. The PCV absorbed the damage at the cost of some of its power. Keep your PCV charged and the chances of survival on the field are very high." He said simply, "Though even this has its limits, unlike the HEV suit, you can't take a tank shell to the chest and survive." Then he scratched his chin in thought, "Although if that happened while you were wearing an HEV, you'll still be in pretty sorry shape; but then the HEV pulls off miracles that I would have only attributed to Divine Intervention from Jesus Christ himself."
Shepard detached the Batarian helmet, "Most important in my opinion, is that this can interface with other helmets if necessary; but the official helmet is something we actually salvaged from the HEV suit." He explained, tossing the Batarian helmet away, then he grinned and punched her right in the abdomen. "The needles sting a little?" He asked.
"Yes." Palla replied bluntly, wincing and massaging her breasts. The needles jabbing into that particular area had caught her off guard to say the least. Still, she was reassured by the fact that the needles wouldn't cause any permanent damage; hopefully… she may have fled Khar'shan to avoid getting married off, but that didn't mean she didn't want children someday.
Shepard just laughed, "Just be glad this ain't like the HEV suits; they had needles jab into your dick or cunt, and your ass." He said simply. Palla couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but it didn't matter as he quickly dug into the crate and withdrew the 'official' helmet for the PCV.
He tossed it to Palla, and she examined it for a moment. It was highlighted in the same eye-burning black and orange as everything else. Maybe the colors have some cultural significance to humans? It came in two parts, with a detachable clear faceplate that extended from forehead to chin, and nearly ear to ear. The bulk of the helmet itself had a number of scalloped sections at the chin and the back of the skull. They seemed to expand and contract to allow it to be adjusted to various skull types. The bottom was dominated by a flexible cloth ring that would help seal the helmet in hostile environments. The last feature was a thick brim at the top over the eyes. She could see several faint lights, but didn't know what they did.
She put the Helmet on and plugged the cord into the PCV, and this time a bright Orange HUD popped up; and she flinched as a VI, hopefully a VI, began talking.
"Welcome, to the PCV Mk. 2, protective system; for use in Combat Conditions. High Impact Reactive Armor: Activated. Atmospheric Contaminant Sensors: Activated. Vital Sign Monitoring: Activated. Automatic Medical Systems: Engaged. Defensive Weapon Selection System: Activated. Munition Level Monitoring: Activated. Communication Interface: Online. Have a very safe day."
"Man this VI doesn't shut up does it?" She grumbled.
"Synchronizing optical tracking system. Please follow the prompt."
A small red square appeared in her vision and began moving about. She involuntarily followed it with her eyes until it split in two. This repeated until it split again. It was difficult to track until...
"Synchronization complete. Initiating Opti-Track interface tutorial."
The obnoxious V.I. began what Palla could only describe as a children's game of 'Follow the Dot' as she was taught to operate the eye-tracking software that gave her hands free control of the suit's many functions. She wouldn't have minded as much if it weren't for the V.I.'s simpering voice lecturing her like a Pleb.
Shala cleared her throat to gather everyone's attention; even as Palla smacked the side of the helmet in exasperation. "There are of course, more components to the complete armor. Learning them will be your collective focus for the next few days until we depart." She ordered.
Shepard nodded and turned to Palla, "Now then, for another demonstration. Knife Witch, run around the hanger bay as fast as you can." He ordered.
Palla just sighed, At least I got some cool armor out of this. She started off at what she considered to be a brisk jog, when that damned voice started up again.
"Elevated cardiovascular activity detected. Initiating Nanite Adrenal Stimulation."
She felt a sudden rush of nervous energy and picked up the pace. Within a few seconds, she was running at a full sprint. The voice kept droning on as it monitored and adjusted oxygenation, purged acid buildup in her muscles, induced mild Dopamine release. If it weren't for the V.I.'s constant nagging, she'd really be enjoying this.
Finally, she came to a stop, not even winded but still irritated; and she turned and snapped to attention, "Gunnery Sergeant, Permission to speak?" She asked.
"Granted." Shepard replied, even as he continued taking out vests and setting them on the ground; while the Admiral began calling names.
"Gunnery Sergeant, how do I shut off this VI's voice?" She asked, trying to prevent her irritation from leaking into her voice. She must not have succeeded because Gunny Shepard just laughed.
"Here." He straightened up and walked over to her, grabbing the small pad attached to the shoulder of the vest. "Pay close attention Corporal, cause you'll be teaching the others when they inevitably ask."
Palla fought down a flinch at the fact that he hadn't called her a 'recruit'; "Gunny?" She asked.
Shepard just smirked, "Those Boys and Girls need a leader while I'm not there; and I was just a corporal on my first mission before I found myself in command of a whole platoon of Special Forces Marines and Soldiers. Consider this me placing my trust in you to look after your fellows Knife Witch."
Palla felt her mouth open and close for a moment in disbelief; she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her, a Pleb, in charge of a squad of Special Forces Soldiers on a diplomatic mission. It was like the universe was laughing at her.
Pillars give me strength. She thought as she asked, "Why me?"
Adrian looked into her eyes for a moment as if weighing her soul before he spoke low enough for only her to hear. "One of the ancient warrior cultures from my homeworld had a saying: out of every 100 people, only ten are worthy to be soldiers and go to war.. But out of those ten only one is truly a warrior. They will bring the rest home." He put a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Make sure you bring'em home."
She could only stare dumbly as the grizzled human walked back to the Admiral and began drilling the rest of the Squad, her Squad, on the many facets of the PCV systems.
Shala'Raan leaned back on her bed, having taken off her mask and flipped down her hood; rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. After a long moment, she sat back up and slowly began the process of stripping off her suit to start on its maintenance; and to allow herself to indulge in some personal luxury's like a bath.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror and flinched in surprise, walking up to it and touching her cheeks as if to tell herself that what she was seeing was real.
She took her suit off once every five years, so she had a relatively good metric to compare what she was seeing to what she remembered. Rather than look older, like what would be expected of a middle aged Quarian; she instead, she looked like she was ten years younger.
She could easily pass for a thirty year old as opposed to her fifty. Come to think of it, I haven't had any Heat-Bond flashes as of late. She wondered, running a hand through her hair. I might have to keep my mask on just so that Harridan Tevos doesn't accuse me of impersonating me. She smirked at the idea of arguing with Tevos, even as she entertained a quick fantasy of taking her mask off just to spit in Tevos' face.
Nope; war is coming, no need to speed it along. Her smile fell slightly. The revelation of Quarians without compromised immune systems could be enough to spark that on it's own, and we only have the treatment for 1/100th of a percent of our population as it is. She thumped her fist on the counter. If Daro'Xen could have been trusted with anything more dangerous than a plastic spoon, Shala would have argued to put her in charge of that project. As it was, Doctors Solus and Chakwas were working miracles to stretch their supplies as far as they had.
She pulled off her suit, wincing instinctively as it felt as if she was peeling off her second skin, before she walked into the bathroom and turned on the water for the bathtub. She braced herself against the sink, staring into the mirror as she took in her Silvery-Emerald eyes and she stared at her face; noting the lack of wrinkles that she had known was there only five years ago.
Black hair that had streaks of silver last time she looked, but was now as black as the emptiness of space; Olive-Tan skin that now was as smooth as an infant. She noted that her breasts seemed firmer, and… other such things that indicated that she was indeed physically younger than fifty, and was indeed now in the prime of her youth.
Somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five. I could have a biological child if I so desired now… Technically I never gave up my birth ticket. She mused, then frowned and snorted. Not like I'll have time for transferring to a Live-Ship and raise a child. 'Gerrel and myself are going to have our hands full in the coming years.
Besides, her face softened, I already have an incredible son and an adorable granddaughter. I should invite Cato and his family for a staff dinner. Or maybe just drop by and visit. I could watch Ori and give Ayita a chance to not be The Mistress or Mother for a day or two.
She shook her head and lowered herself into the tub, According to Adams, people who followed his faith had five to ten children. How would that even work? Unless the female spat out a child every year from the second she first bled.
She huffed as she leaned back in the soothing waters. Must be nice to have a homeworld where you can afford to have two to three handfuls of children. Her eyes flashed and a faint green corona formed in the tub for a moment. That will be us before the decade is out.
"You listening universe?! The Quarians will survive, we will prosper, and we will plant a boot in the ass of anyone or anything you throw at us!" She had just gotten her emotions back in check when she felt Cato intrude on her thoughts; "Yes?" She asked, staying in the water and keeping her eyes closed.
"Ayita needs a break, she has grey streaks in her hair; She's bringing Ori over. She should be there in a few minutes." He informed her.
"You could've let me know beforehand, though I was planning on offering to take Ori for a day or two anyway." Shala grumbled good naturedly, even as she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself like Dr. Chambers had told her.
She ignored the water dripping from her body as she walked out of her bathroom and into her living quarters; adjusting the towel so that it covered her more sufficiently, when there was a knock on her door.
"Come in Ayita." She called out absently.
The girl opened the door and yelped in surprise, quickly averting her eyes as she walked up and plopped Ori into Shala's arms without a word; before spinning around and practically running away from her.
Shala chuckled, even as Ayita left the room and reapplied the shadows over her body, Shala noting that her daughter-in-law was red faced as she left. Ori blinked up at her with a big grin on her face, "Granna!" she exclaimed, one hand fidgeting with the knot on Shala's towel, and the other poking her in the face. "Look young." She said curiously.
Shala just smiled down at the toddler, "How would you like to join me for a bath?" She asked.
She headed back into the cleaning room and indulged in an activity that few Quarians ever imagined was possible, and dreamed of the day when something as incredible as bathing a child would become commonplace.
It was decided that the Delegation and Garrus' team would depart at the same day to throw off any potential tails and followers. Garrus and Tali stood on the ramp of the shuttle they had been given with Vestris between them.
He watched as Ayita floated into the hanger bay in a mass of shadows and clouds; noting that it looked stronger than before. Satisfied that she had taken a break, he noted with sadness that Cato was staying behind; and Ori floated in her cloud form between him and Miranda. He knew that it was only because Ayita and Cato were communicating with the toddler directly through telepathy that she wasn't crying and throwing a tantrum at being separated.
Gunny Shepard stood behind them with his arms crossed, a heavy frown on his face.
He had been vocal about wanting to go with Ayita, if only to be there for her; but had acquiesced when she gently reminded him that he had his own duties on the ship. It wasn't fair that Ayita couldn't even say goodbye to them in public, since the Marines and Apprentices were already in the shuttle.
Garrus walked up to Cato, and gave him a Turian handshake; "We'll be back, and I'll make sure she's safe." He promised.
"You better, or else I'll make sure to pull your soul out of the after and pull it back into your body and kick your butt." Cato replied.
Garrus glanced over at Ayita, even as she floated into the shuttle where the other Apprentices and the squad of Marines were already filing in. "Did she rest at all? Like take a break?" He asked.
Cato nodded, "Yeah, spent a few hours listening to me read her one of her peoples books." He huffed, "She may know how to read, but she's quite slow at it."
Garrus just gave the Turian equivalent of a grimace; Literacy was vital to Galactic life, and the fact that Ayita could read but was slow enough that it was easier for someone to read to her was something that could cause a serious problem farther down the line. He'd heard similar situations arising in the Hegemony and on some Terminus colonies, where the Regime intentionally suppressed literacy to control their population. It painted a dismal picture for the relief efforts they intended to mount both on Earth, and possibly elsewhere.
His mission would determine how far they intended to stretch their resources.
Cato turned back to Garrus and nodded, "Good luck."
Garrus just huffed, "Yeah… I'll need it."
Pilot A/N: I don't have much to say beyond apologies for this chapter being late. I was sick yesterday and the Authors Note for the both of us wasn't done; and I didn't feel up to writing it once I realized it.
I'm still feeling lingering effects, so I'll let Ian talk about the contents of this chapter.
Ian A/N: This was all wholesomeness and reconnection; a breath of fresh air before we dive into the stress of the coming chapters. Obviously (or not) Corporal "Knife-Witch" Palla is the star of this chapter, and for good reason. None I'll share at this time though.
If you really want to know, then stay tuned dear readers!
Pilot: Right then, leave a review and tell us what you guys think.
A TV Tropes page would be loved and appreciated.
And we will see ya when we see ya.