We've Got Nukes! We've Got Knives! We've Got Sharp Sticks! (RIP, Bill Paxton)
Arcturus Simulator Range, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 19, 2183
Author's Note: Fun Chapter!
The SSV Normandy's ground team had gathered together in the Simulator Range, complete with a great deal of TuffBoxes set up along the walls of the firers' lane filled with various weaponry and appropriate attachments and modifications to fit the shooters' desires. Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the gunmetal-gray room wearing her Battle Duty Uniform, knowing that Auntie had already went and upgraded the armor for the Human team members. Well, it wasn't like the Arc would have a supply of Turian armor, would it? She already knew that the next destination would be the Cit for more exotic weaponry, materials, and a visit to the Office of Special Tactics so Auntie could further fit the ground team with the best possible equipment. If they were going to have to fight a war with something like a dozen or so people. Captain Jane Catherine Shepard fully intended them to be armed, armored, and teched to the teeth. Sara was all for that.
"So…" Auntie came up to her as Sara watched her Marines play grab-ass, Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach tussling with Private Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard while Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was running a betting racket as both Privates went full MCMAP on each other, utilizing moves from the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program; a mixture of moves involving Brazilian Ju-juitsu, Krav Maga, Wrestling, Savate, and Boxing. "I go a couple things for you, Sara."
"Is it a pony?" The young woman asked cheekily as the redhead snorted, the old joke falling flat as always.
"Better." Auntie gestured to follow her, and Sara did so as the Captain went to two TuffBoxes that were marked 'SR' and stood separate from the rest. "I've been going through the stock and supplies on how to outfit us better," Jannie began, "but sadly I really didn't find any real weapons in the Alliance stocks that would fit you well. Thankfully, I happened to have some of my own that I thought would be a little more suited to you. Giving you a full-auto Avenger or some single-shot Mattock just isn't your style, kiddo. So… I'm giving you one that I made myself."
Sara's eyes went wide at the thought.
Jane Shepard was a geek, pure and simple. She loved tech, and loved coming up with new tech. Having gone to the Systems Alliance Military Academy with a degree in Engineering, she had propelled her love of inventing and improving hardware to new heights, often customizing or hand-crafting her own equipment, weapons, and armor to be better. Auntie had created her hoverturret Bastilia from a simple assault turret and turned into a minitank, and her utility drone Ghost from a scanning device into a Combat Assistant Cyberwarfare Suite. During her off-times, Auntie tinkered and crafted items to aid in her endeavors, such as her Speedware program that added power to her armor's servos to make her faster, or her Augmented Reality Overlay displays for better battle awareness. She didn't stop until she thought she had the best thing going. To have one of her weapons? Something that she tooled and toiled upon until she saw that it was a lethal instrument? Whatever it was, it was likely to be awesome.
"I want you to meet the 'M-37 Falcon'."
Auntie opened up the hard case to pull out a heavy assault rifle, the likes in which Sara had never seen before. The first thing that she noticed was that it had two barrels, one upper and one lower. Then she realized it had two ammo block ports, too.
"This baby here," Jannie hefted it upward, planting the buttstock into her hip as it extended into combat operations, "is a Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon platform, meant for most any situation you can think of. What it is," the redhead continued, "is an assault rifle based off of the Mattock platform with an upgraded shaver and software suite that I stripped off of a Vindicator. It fires a five-round burst out of a heavy bore, meant to punch through shields and armor quickly. I threw in a better-conductive heat sink so that it can get thirty shots before cooldown. Believe me, this puppy will put several in the ground before you need to lock the bolt back." Jannie smiled, and Sara was impressed. "And when that happens? You go for the shotgun portion."
"It's a shotgun, too?" That explained the underbarrel. A Masterkey, Sara figured.
"This here," Auntie continued, "is actually a M-22 Katana with a few necessaries removed. I pulled out the extra guts from the Mattock and installed the receiver and barrel of the Katana together, retooled the housing, redistributed the power management system, and linked it together with a selector switch. Cool down the rifle? Switch to the shotgun." The smile on Jannie's face was vicious indeed. "Six shot magnum weight with good range and a full choke for maximum effectiveness against personnel. When you're done filling the air with pellets, the rifle has cooled down and you can riddle them with bullets again."
"Holy shit." Okay, Sara was sold. The Falcon sounded awesome!
"But wait! There's more!" Auntie did in a fake infomercial voice. "There's a third option!"
"Dare I ask?" If Auntie claimed that it came with a minifabricated Cobra rocket launcher, she'd probably believe it.
"Both." The Lion answered, her smile triumphant. "Why be picky when you can give it to them as dirty as possible? Switch the selector to 'fun!' and the weapon will fire a five-round burst, followed with a shotgun blast right afterwards. That… will likely bring anything humanoid down with one trigger pull. Give it a feel." Jannie handed it over to Sara, and the first thing that the Corpsman noticed was the weight. It certainly wasn't a submachine gun, and it felt twice as heavy as the Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifle. Sara shouldered the Falcon and aimed it towards the end of the range, seeing the holographic sight blink into existence when she took aim, the single-dot Close Quarter Combat sight a simple but effective method of putting rounds-on-target. "Now I won't lie, the damn thing goes through ammo blocks like crazy considering that you'll get about four cooldowns before you're reloading two of them," the redhead continued, "but likely everything will be dead by then."
"Loads the standard blocks?" Sara asked, looking away from the sights and to her Auntie.
"NiFe, MuMetal, Alumnisteel… hell, I vamped that shaver myself where it'll take even some exotic blocks." Sara looked at the weapon in her hands, and then at Jannie. "Yeah, that's usually what I go for when I don't bring my Saber, but I've pretty much modified that thing to its maximum. Pulling anything more out and it'll likely come apart like a puzzle. No frills, no bells, no whistles, just a pure killing weapon. What do you think?"
"Can't wait to see what this does on the range." Sara smirked as she looked to her Auntie. "Thank you." The rifle/shotgun was more than a gift in Sara's mind, and a part of her knew why Auntie was giving her her guns. A part of it was to protect her, the woman who was both friend and sister to her. A part of it was likely gratitude for saving her life twice. To return that favor, Auntie was giving Sara something that would likely kill the enemy before she was in danger. "Why 'M-37 Falcon'?"
"Designation wasn't in use, and it's the name of an Avenger." Sara just rolled her eyes at that. Auntie was such a nerd! "Which brings me to my next item." Shepard gestured for Sara to put the Falcon down on its hard case as the Captain pulled up a smaller box, likely holding a pistol or a submachine gun. "This one… this one is mine, too." Jannie stroked the top of the TuffBox for a moment before opening it to where the redhead could see the contents first, and Sara got curious as Shepard turned the box around to show her what was resting inside, laying on a bed of foam.
"Oh my fucking God…" Sara's eyes went wide as hell as she looked upon a weapon she knew very well; it was highly regarded as the most powerful handgun every made by a Human. Only twenty or so supposedly still existed out of a few thousand, many of them having been decommissioned and broken due to the fact that the weapon broke the Treaty of Farixen; no small feat for a handgun. The ones that still existed were weapons that had been officially issued to the persons in question by the Systems Alliance Government, handed to some of the most elite combatants at the time, and officially given exemptions for those members only. It was a massive thing, the finest weapon produced at the height of Human ingenuity, before the advent of Eezo technology. A mass driver handgun that hit harder than a rifle, a physical thing with no software management suite or IFF targeting system that was bound to all weapons by Council Law. No, this weapon was a weapon of old based upon modern technology. It was a gunslinger's weapon that couldn't be hacked or sabotaged; the way a weapon was meant to be.
The Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, known as the Mammothkiller.
"Jannie! Where the hell did you find another one!" Sara was just shocked at the sight of the buntline revolver, the twenty-five centimeter thick barrel that lead to the fat cylinder that housed the six separate heatsinks; technically, that was illegal under the Citadel Conventions. It weighed in at nearly three kilograms unloaded, and had a hell of a kick. "There's only like twenty or so of these left, Auntie? How the hell did you get one past…"
Sara stopped talking. She looked up to her Aunt. Who was blushing slightly and looking at her… sheepish.
"No." Ryder closed the lip on the TuffBox, her tone pure steel. "Absolutely not, Auntie. There is no way in hell."
"Sara…" Auntie's voice was soft, kind, caring. "Sara… you saved my life… twice. Elysium, and now Therum. I want you to have it, to carry it with you in battle. I know that when one of my crew is in danger, I know what you will do. You will go into danger and you will pull them out because that is who you are. When that catwalk failed, you didn't hesitate, and you saved my life. When someone is hurt, I know you are going to be there, giving them that extra chance at life, to fight death itself. And you will protect them." Jannie smiled at her, a sweet smile that lit up her green eyes. It was love, pure and simple. "I don't want you armed with some weak sauce pop-gun when you do so, when you must protect patient and yourself. I want you to have that extra chance, to be able to give yourself that opportunity, to defeat the enemy and save a comrade. This revolver is quite simply the best there is for just that. And I want you to have it."
"Auntie… this is your fathers'." Sara couldn't even say anything more. She knew that Jane Shepard thought the absolute galaxy of her father, a true hero for Humanity who had died saving lives by making himself a distraction while the rest of the Night Stalkers evacuated civilians. His heroic deed saved thousands of innocent lives, men, women, and children, as well as those of his own team. His self-sacrifice was a thing of legends. Jannie cherished the father she never got to personally know and everything that was ever his… including the Model 696 that was given to him before the retaliatory strike on Shanxi to free those who were besieged and endangered by the Turians, the leader and Commanding Officer of one of the greatest Special Forces teams ever assembled. It was given to him with honor, and 1st Lieutenant John Michael Shepard wore it with honor. When he had passed away and the Treaty of Farixen was signed, making such weapons like the Model 696 illegal, Fleet Admiral Jon Ulysses Grissom had written, forwarded, and fought for the exemption of the weapon he had hand-delivered to a man he considered a son for the sakes of his only daughter.
That same daughter wanted her to carry it.
"My father would have approved, Sara. I know he would have." Auntie said quietly, but there wasn't a look of sorrow in her face or any regret in her voice. "Everyone remembers Dad being a hero, but Poppa Bear always told me that Dad had the biggest heart he had ever seen in a man, that it was that quality that made him who he was. Not his skills, his training, any of that. It was the content of his character, the drive he had, the willingness to go above-and-beyond for others because he cared. Sara, you are just like that, and I would be touched if you would carry my fathers' Smith and Wesson. You are one of the best, there's no denying it, and you need the best to see it through." Jannie opened up the TuffBox and Sara found herself sucking air through clenched teeth at the sight of the magnificent gun. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; quite the opposite!
"You are sure?" Sara asked tentatively, looking to her Auntie.
"Absolutely, kiddo." Jannie beamed at her, and Sara took the Smith and Wesson with respectful hands, having seen it many times but never having held it or touched it. The revolver was heavier than her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun, and a great deal more powerful, too. She held it properly in a two-handed grip, seeing the physical hammer that would revolve the heatsinks with each pull, the single/double-action magnetically boosting the round through the electromagnetic gates of the barrel at a speed almost two percent the speed of light. Sara knew that the Mammothkiller put out enough kinetic force more powerful that most high-end military rifles, even some sniper rifles! It could hit with well over three kiloJoules of force, shattering basic kinetic shielding and armor of some lower-end or cheaper armors. Even for some of the good stuff, it would likely snap the shields, leaving the wearer vulnerable for the next, and likely lethal, shot. Sara took the magnetic Kydex holster and attached it to her left hip, feeling the three kilogram weight of it, almost a comfort. "Looks good on you, Doc."
"Thanks." Sara fought the need to blush, and lost.
"Well, now that present-time is over." Auntie was rubbing her hands together, grinning. "Let's go have us some fun! Shooters!" The Lion smiled at the assembled team.
"Time to get your gat on."
Skipper insisted on a soundtrack, and the Angel rolled her eyes.
"Do I want to know?" Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams whispered to Petty Officer Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria folding her arms across her chest as she looked over to Ash with an exasperated look.
"Auntie has a sort of love fascination with early-21st Century pop culture." Sara replied, the Corpsman looking to the Lion of Elysium as the Skipper fiddled with her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool. "Movies, music, comic books… the works. Sometimes I think she had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century." That had the Colonial Soldier snort as 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko chuckle a little nearby. The SSV Normandy's ground team was all there with the intent to work on tactics, teamwork, hand-and-arm signals, and improvising on-the-fly. There was also the incentive of upgraded weaponry, as the several crates of TuffBoxes could attest to. Both Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay were huddled together, giggling over something showing on Tali's Armali Council Nexus OmniTool, while Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian stood sentinel near the back of the range, watching everything silently. Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka looked on with what Ash assumed was amusement while the large Krogan Urdnot Wrex was keenly eying the largest crate, probably a weapon meant for him. The Marines were still more-or-less playing grab-ass with one another, while their newest member, Doctor Liara T'soni, stood off to the side, quietly watching everything. "If I had to guess? Awesome Mix Vol. 1."
"Don't spoil!" The Skipper said as she looked up from her OmniTool, smiling. "And yes, it is my Awesome Mix Vol. 1. Firers? Grab your weapons and take your positions. We're doing the standard barrier drills and talking guns to some real music, and not that shit Sara listens to."
"Don't knock my fuzion, Auntie." Sara growled as Williams just snickered as she grabbed her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun while Ryder hoisted her new custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon. The Soldier heard a fuzzy funk guitar riff begin to play, accompanied by a simple bass/bass drum combo, something that had her head nodding to the simple but catchy beat as the Marines finally stopped dicking around and everyone moved to the established firing lanes, holographic targets already placed. She could have sworn she knew the song from somewhere, like from a movie or some such thing until the lyrics began. Then she recognized the classical tune.
"Yaa-hee! Icky thump, who'da thunk?
Sittin' drunk on a wagon to Mexico!
Her hair, what a chump, and my head,
Got a bump when I hit it on the radio!
"Okay, I'll admit I do like this song." The Corpsman said as Williams chuckled and raised her Reverent, using the weapons' optronic electronic Close Quarter Combat sight popping up, a single triangle to place rounds in the middle of the geometric shape. "The White Stripes do know how to lay down some good funk."
"Red-haired seniorita, lookin' dead,
Come to say "I need a bed" en Espanol!
Gimme a drink of water, I'm gonna sing around the collar,
Well, I don't need a microphone!"
As soon as a sexy guitar refrain riff began, Captain Jane Shepard began firing her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, indicating for everyone to start as fifteen assault rifles drowned the range with their fire, a mixture of semi-automatic fire, burst-fire, and automatic fire began raining down on the man-shaped holographic targets. Ash kept her own fire into controlled bursts as she used her Light Machine Gun in a more accurate fashion, firing five-to-ten round bursts to keep the round within the target instead of having the weapons' muzzle climb and growing cone of accuracy. Her rounds peppered the target, not one landing outside of the targets' outline from fifty meters away; no mean feat for a weapon meant to suppress instead of being a point-target weapon. Years in the Army had made her a weapons expert, after all. She had seen some of the other weapons the others were carrying, and looked at the other targets to gauge how they were doing as well.
Captain Shepard was armed with her M-99 Saber, a deadly artist with her weapon, delivering head shots and chest shots like it was nobody's business. Petty Officer Ryder was learning her new weapon, the M-37 Falcon firing five-round bursts with a significant muzzle climb, but the Corpsman was able to put all five in the target, stitching it vertically. Lieutenant Alenko had a Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle, the Lancers' bigger, more powerful brother, firing it competently at his own target, decimating the chest area.
Detective Vakarian was armed with his tricked-out Rapid Response Unit-issued Elanus Risk Control Services' M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, putting three-round bursts that looked like just one large hole into the head every time. Agent Raeka had her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle in her hands, the heavy, slow three-shot burst firing a hefty muzzle climb that had the Agent aim low and angled the weapon slightly downward to compensate quite effectively. Doctor Liara T'soni was armed with an Asari-manufactured Meriz Weaponsmith LIN-4 Battle Rifle, putting single-round shots into her target with decent grouping, knowing her way around the weapon at least.
Urdnot Wrex had his Cipritine Armory Phaeston Heavy Assault firing in full burst, pouring down rounds as he laced his target full of holes, obviously going for totality. Specialist Zorah had a Turian-oriented Devlon Industries' M-14 Raptor Assault Rifle, the Hierarchy's main Hasti Infantry weapon, and Ash was impressed to see the purple-clad Quarian putting down good shots with timed four-round shots. Her cousin, Specialist Raan, was armed with a Hydra Armaments' M-113 Drake Assault Rifle, switching different firing modes for different body parts; single shots for head and joints, five-round bursts for the chest and abdomen with the knock-off Vindicator.
The Marines had all been handed Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifle, a weapon usually seen in the hands of the bigger PMC's and merc organizations that could afford the pricey but effective weapon. It was a bigger, beefier version of the ERCS M-15 Vindicator, but came with more recoil and less shots per cooldown. Still, it was a good weapon to have in the hands of a dedicated shooter. Williams saw that most of the Marines were good on their targets, but only just that. One, Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard, had better grouping than the rest, his three-round bursts all in the center of the chest with little variation from one burst to the next. Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach, on the other hand? His target looked like it caught a lethal case of Chicken Pox, round placements everywhere. Well, every squad needed a Gunner, and better to hand it to someone who was more trigger squeeze than trigger pull.
"Talking gun!" The Skipper shouted over the din of gunfire.
"Icky thump, with a lump in my throat,
Grabbed my coat, and now it's reckon I was ready to go!
Yeah, I swam by the hair, she had one white eye,
One blank stare, lookin' up, lyin' there!"
The talking gun was a Human-oriented tactic that involved maximum rounds upon a target while conserving on heat management. It began with the first firer firing one round or short burst, the second firer two rounds or a longer burst, and the third firer going back to the single round or short burst down the line, one after another quickly and accurately. The Skipper fired once, while Ryder fired a burst and a blast from her combo rifle/shotgun, as Ash fired a five round burst from her Reverent, and then Alenko firing two controlled four-round bursts from his Diamondback. And it continued down the line through all the Normandiers in less than ten seconds until it came back to the Skipper, who fired the longer burst pattern, rotating who fired short and long.
"On a stand, in her hair, was a candy cane,
Black rum, sugar cane, dry ice, somethin' strange!
La la, la la la la la la la la la,
Laaa laaa laaa!
"Barrier drill!"
The next tactic was a singular target meant to strip defenses quickly and kill an opponent by putting two rounds or bursts into the chest and then one into the head in quick succession. It was created by the old LAPD SWAT to take down armed criminals and hostage-takers in a quick amount of time to avoid collateral damage. Even in the modern day and age, it was still a good fall back tactic to take out an individual, weakening shields and shocking them with a headshot to induce fear or hesitation if the round didn't penetrate the helmet. Ash fired two quick snap bursts to the chest, three-to-five round bursts followed by a three-to-five round burst to the range targets' head. Even with such a heavy weapon as the Reverent, its recoil, and the fact that it wasn't a precision weapon, Ash was happy to see that all of her rounds were not only on target, but in tight groups as well. Williams was amused to see that the Angel was putting two five-round bursts into the chest with her assault rifle selection, and then finishing it off with a shotgun blast to the head. That Falcon was a mean mother of a gun, that was for sure. Alenko was putting his rounds on target with finesse, while the Skipper was blazing wit that Saber of hers, firing a semi-automatic fast enough to make one guess that it might be a slot rate-of-fire triple shot weapon.
The others were doing the drill, Captain Shepard having sent everyone a quick YouTube video outlining seven basic Human firing drills, five basic Turian drills, and three Asari drills. The thought was that if they used tactics from difference species, the Geth would find them less predictable than if they stuck to the tactics of a singular species. Today they would drill on the basics until they were meshed seamlessly, able to blend the tactics from one to another in random sequence until it was without flaw. Tomorrow would be skirmishes, the next day small-unit tactics. They would increase the difficulty and the amount of targets until they could work together without flaw. Then they would move to other training modules. Urban combat techniques. Assault tactics. Boarding tactics.
"Well, Americans, what, nothing better to do?
Why don't you kick yourself out, you're an immigrant, too!
Who's using who? What should we do?
You can't be a pimp, and a prostitute too!
"Hastist suppression!"
Now every other firer was firing through the entirety of their heatsink as quickly as possible while the other half were paused, waiting for the go-order to fire themselves while the first iteration cooled down their weapons, keeping up full volumes of fire without pause with half a unit's worth of weapons. It was a Turian tactic that kept up a constant barrage of fire upon the enemy.
"Transition fire!"
The Human tactic called for the use of every weapon on the firer, to expend through the heatsink and switching to the next weapon to maximize volume of fire with all unit members by using all their assigned weapons, letting them previous weapons cool down as targets were eliminated. It allowed smaller Human units to fire fully without pause while cooling down weapons.
"Leadership decimation!"
The Huntress tactic called for every firer to take out anything considered a leadership role; to decimate unit morale and guidance. Several firers would engage each leadership-type unit, be it Commanding Officer, Medic, the most experienced person, or any other specialized units that could decimate the effectiveness of a unit. Asari were known for gutting units in a few seconds by taking out command elements.
"Whittle fire!"
The Human tactic eliminated the possibility of flanking by firing at 'outside' units and worked its way towards the interior of a unit's position, 'whittling' their strength down by shaving down their effective force from the outside in. It worked surprisingly well on Turians, and the Geth did work in numbers.
"Paint-by-numbers!"
This interesting tactic was actually invented by Sara's father in the First Contact War, then-Lieutenant Alec Clancy Ryder making it where everyone fired upon the same unit, designating them by a number scheme and then 'painting' them with rounds. Since almost no one could withstand a dozen or more firers engaging them at once, it worked well at decimating troop strength and morale.
"Flash suppression!"
A Commando tactic involving quick burst firing at multiple targets by aiming at a central target, then one to the left of the first, then right of the original, working further out to confuse and enemy as to whom was firing on them. The zig-zag pattern worked well as usually multiple firers were shooting at the same target from multiple directions, generally overcoming defenses.
"Icky thump, handcuffed to a bunk,
Robbed blind, looked around, and there was nobody else!
Left alone, I hit myself with a stone,
Went home and learned to clean up after myself!"
"To the Spears!"
Another Turian tactic that involved striking at the heart of a unit, it was the opposite of whittle fire; it drove a wedge in a defense or a platoon and continued to drive that wedge wider to eliminate an enemy's strength. It was a sound tactic that Humans found hard to beat.
"Soak!"
A Hierarchy Hastist Infantry tactic, it abandoned discipline for wild firing, a firer sweeping medium arcs of fire back and forth to rake enemy units quickly, and surprisingly effectively. It did well to bring down shields and keep exact positioning of unit members from being targeted from a full-unit barrage.
"Sprinkler!"
Another Human tactic based off an old lawn care maintenance device, the Sprinkler had a firer shoot a burst at three targets from left-to-right, and then sweep at full-auto from right to left. It allowed multiple engagements against a numerically-superior force while keeping concentrated firer to wear down shields and armor.
"Process of elimination!"
The Commando tactic had three firers engaging the same target, taking down a third of a unit quickly before moving onto the second and the third afterwards. Every tactic that the Skipper called out all had the same idea; to turn a small combat team into a very lethal fighting force capable of engaging superior numbers and eliminating the advantage. Captain Shepard set her OmniTool to call out a random tactic at a random time, ingraining each tactic until it was rote as bolts were locked back to cool down, spent ammo blocks were ejected and fresh ones inserted, range targets were refreshed again and again for hours.
Breaks were given as cramped hands and fingers were stretched and rested while lunch was catered right to the range. Ash noted that everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, a fair amount of talking across species lines. While Williams wasn't exactly the biggest fan of non-Humans, Therum had showed her something. A friend willing to stand with you in battle was someone to be considered worthy, to be given the benefit of the doubt. She wasn't exactly sure on the Krogan big game hunter yet, but the others had certainly joined on their own volition, and not one of them had spoke up about any doubts on the mission or any fears that they might have had. They were committed, and even after Therum and the loss of Private Holodansk, there was no sign of them wanting to quit or walk away.
"We need a story time." Captain Jane Shepard called out as they sat down for lunch, everyone having a choice in what to eat from the stocks of Arcturus Station, even the non-Humans. Ash was amused to see that the Quarian Pilgrims were eating from what appeared to be old-school toothpaste tubes, their food broken down, purified, and inserted into their respective EnviroSuits for consumption. Not for the first time, Williams kind of felt… sorry for them. "Nothing says 'break' like a bucket full of laughs."
"Sara promised me a gross one from her paramedic days." The Staff Sergeant spoke up, looking to the Angel of Illyeria, who was currently eating a grilled chicken plate with asparagus and baked potatoes. "The one with the Hanar and the Asari."
"Does it involve a bar?" Ballsack asked, getting the Marines to snicker as Detective Vakarian merely rolled his eyes behind his C-SEC RRU-issued Kuwashii Visor.
"No, it doesn't involve a bar." Sara scowled at Ash for a moment. "It was a call I had when I was fifteen, during my first year as an EMT." She took a drink of lemon-lime Tupari before continuing. "So… no shit…"
"There I was…" The Skipper, Ash, Kaidan, Brasserie, Ballsack, K-Pop, the Kenyan, and Lapdance all said at the same time, knowing how a military story started.
"One day, on Skybulance-37…"
Skybulance-37, Municipal Lane, Ringside, Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 24, 2178
Emergency Medical Technician Sara Elaine Ryder sat in the 'hellhole' of the Skybulance, where the passing pressure would blow air into her face gently as the Shu'pari-'57 Medical Vessel traveled down the Inner Tract and Ringside of the Kithoi Arm, patrolling the first eight kilometers as well as the Kithoi portion of the Upper, Mid, and Lower Ring of the Presidium. Sara loved the hellhole; it was the only time she had ever felt anything resembling wind in her life. She could look down upon the Arm, seeing the traffic traveling down the Public Lanes and Common Lanes, the buildings stuffed upon seemingly every available square meter of space that wasn't a walkway, the pedestrian paths teeming with life. Sara loved the view from above, another reason she sat in the hellhole.
She looked over to see her crew, the team of medics from different walks of life, professionals one and all. There was Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, a four-hundred plus old Asari Matron with light blue centurymarks upon her teal face, sitting in the command seat. There was Emergency Rescue Technician Jarvis Latarus, the Turian Firefighter/Rescue Force with Apies colonial markings upon his dark plates, buffing his talons. There was Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis, a Palaven-born female who had served as a Frontline Barber-Surgeon in the Hierarchy during her fifteen year obligation, continuing it as a Citizen. There was Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara, the exasperating Maiden who, while good at her profession, induced headaches and crestaches due to her snark. And then there was Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla, the Salarian male who was the on-board equipment expert. Their pilot, Flight Officer Kaius Contenus, a demon on the stick, flew a lazy patrol in the Municipal Lanes meant for C-SEC, Skybulances, and Official vehicles.
"Dispatch to Skybulance-37, come in."
"This is Skybulance-37, ready, willing, and able." Chief Talis spoke up into the vessels' intercom when the dispatcher alerted them. They were getting a call.
"Medical assistance required in Kithoi Arm, Ringside, 0400 Block, Lower Ward, Shoreside District." The voice of Helaia Kanavor spoke over the intercom, the female Turian Dispatcher unflappable and with a wicked sense of humor. "Panicky Maiden requesting assistance with Hanar Patient. Forwarding address."
"Call it." Asha spoke up first, a look of jubilant humor on her young Maiden face. "Sex."
"Must it always be about sex, Asha?" Alixa sighed, the Barber-Surgeon shaking her fringe. "It could have been a hover chair accident."
"Sex." Javis called out.
"Sex." Meeska agreed, nodding his head.
"Wait? Hanar dating outside their species? Is that considered okay for them? No Hanar Daddy protecting his little jellyfish girl with a shotgun?" Sara asked, looking to Chief Shayla.
"For the most part it is acceptable, little one."
"Okay then. Sex." The fifteen-year old replied, trying to figure out how a prosaic Hanar might have gotten hurt while a Maiden occupied the same room. Sex. "Ten credits says misuse of bonding restraint, and Javis gets to rescue a Hanar out of handcuffs." Ryder started 'the game'.
"Ten on strange reaction to lubricant, and Alixa gets to slather." Kevla countered immediately, his lipless mouth turning upwards.
"Ten on hard melding, Hanar in a bliss coma. Meeska gets the readout" Javis smirked at Asha.
"Wait, that's a thing?" Sara asked before realizing she really didn't want to know.
"Ten on alibi." Asha threw out. "The Chief takes pictures of compromising position."
"Ten on misuse of appliance." Alixa folded her arms over her chest carapace. "Little Sara gets the win."
"Ten on something worse than just an Asari and a Hanar." Chief Talis winked towards Ryder. "Asha gets to pose with the debacle for evidence."
"Every one of you are incorrigible." Flight Officer Kaius Contenus growled from the pilot's seat as he gunned the Asari-manufactured Shu'pari-'57 Medical Vessel to full speed, banking at a gut-churning angle as he flew the Skybulance to its destination. They arrived quickly thanks to Contenus' ludicrous need for speed, landing the Skybulance at the entrance of a mini-arcology named 'The Goddess's Rest', an obvious tenant building on the Lower Wards of Shoreside where one could look straight at Kithoi Lake from the main boulevard. Sara grabbed her Aid Bag and slung it over her shoulders as the Skybulance medics exited the craft and entered the building, filing through the doors and walking through the lobby and towards the turbolift bay. A lift came quickly as all six of them filed in, taking the turbolift up twenty stories to the nineteenth floor and exiting the left to head to the domicile in question. Chief Talis rang the request bell at the front door as they stood in the hallway when the door slid open to reveal a young Maiden, standing anxiously at the ingress.
"CitEMS." Chief Shayla Talis identified themselves to the Maiden, who looked at them with wide aqua eyes, her face almost completely lacking any centurymarks. She was a hundred if she was a day, Sara thought. "You have an emergency?"
"Thank the Goddess that you are here!" The Maiden gushed, anxiety and panic evident in her voice. "I… I do not know what to do!"
"Let us in, and we can properly assess what it is that will be needed to be done." The Matron replied calmly, the voice of experience in a time of need. The Maiden nodded enthusiastically as she stepped to one side and everyone filed into the domicile, and Sara saw that she was entering into what appeared to be an Asari-oriented domicile; sea colors, Thessian motifs, airy appearance, a good deal of sculpted flora potted and placed with the thought towards harmony, and quite luxurious. No doubt Mommy Matriarch paid the rent, Sara thought snarkily as the Maiden led them nervously passed the living room and into one of the bedrooms where a Hanar laid upon the ground, a decisive green tinge to its normal pink luminescence.
"M-myself and Shines-With-Brightness…" The young Asari began nervously, wringing her blue hands, "were… enjoying each others' company when things perhaps got a little… carried away." Her voice petered off at the end. Sara wasn't exactly sure what that entailed.
"Ah." Trevalis perked up, the Barber-Surgeon's mandibles twitching slightly. "Was there perhaps an appliance involved when things got… carried away?" Vrack. Alixa was moving in on the kill.
"I, ah, yes, madame." The Maiden's cheeks turned an even more brilliant blue compared to her sky-colored skin. Sara realized that the Asari was blushing. Something was embarrassing, but the young Human woman didn't know what. "The… object… became detached… and, oh Goddess." Asha was smirking broadly, as was Javis, while Meeska merely looked at the Maiden mutely, only a slight smile to his thin lips. "It is still in Shines-With-Brightness, and everything I tried made it… worse."
"What model are we talking about? And which port?" Shayla asked, the utter professional. Only she and Alixa had a straight face while Asha and Javis were grinning too broadly. Even Meeska looked rather amused. Sara just felt stupid for not knowing what they were talking about. Obviously, the poor Hanar had something in it. Some sort of… appliance?
"It is the Havershan Deluxe Full Attenuation Model XD." The Maiden replied sheepishly, blushing brilliantly once more. "And it is in the jal'share."
"Well, that will make this less complicated." Shayla replied, looking pleased. Well, that was a good thing, right? "Barber-Surgeon? Please assist our Emergency Medical Technician for the procedure." It took Sara a moment to realize that meant her. Alixa had won the bet, and she had been named as the lead. Why was Asha trying not to laugh?
"What equipment will I be needing?" Sara looked to Alixa, who merely looked at her. "And… what am I doing?" That last part was whispered.
"Just a pair of bio-gloves." Ryder nodded as she dropped her bag onto the ground and pulled out of one of her quick-access pouches a pair of latex gloves for her hands. "And you'll be doing an extraction." 'Extraction' meant removal. But with no tools? That meant…
…an orifice. Something was lodged in an orifice, specifically an appliance.
"There's a sex toy stuck in its' bum, isn't there?"
"Yes, hatchling." The Turian replied as Asha and Javis snickered, obviously enjoying themselves. "Now be a good little Probie, kneel before the Hanar, and apply some lubrication to your bio-glove before you begin the procedure."
Sara looked at the green-hued Hanar that laid on the ground as its cone-like 'face' twisted slightly to look at her.
"This one is ready for the procedure, Human." The Hanar glowed/spoke, and Sara felt the blood drain from her face.
"I think I could have done without hearing that."
"No… fucking… way."
" 'Fraid so." Petty Officer Sara Ryder replied to Lapdance's comment, everyone listening rather attentively. Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams noted that the Skipper was nodding; obviously Captain Shepard knew of the story.
"But it gets worse."
"And so it happened…" All the Humans coined in at the same time as the story continued.
Emergency Medical Technician Sara Ryder was kneeling by the laying Hanar as Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis stood behind her to 'assist' verbally. Sara had never really worked on a Hanar before, but this was a bit much. But it was also her job.
"First," the Turian female advised, "put the Hanar into a relaxed position."
"Which is…?" Sara wasn't looking forward to getting a little more intimate knowledge with the aquatic species from Kahje.
"From the rear, hatchling. With its' posterior elevated." Trevalis sounded amused with the advice. "I believe Humans call it… dog style?"
"D-Doggystyle." Sara corrected her, hating that she had done so automatically. She gulped as she did what she was asked to do, getting the Hanar into a position that was… rather revealing of the genitalia of the Hanar… both sets. Ryder tried to picture anything else in her mind save Hanar penis and Hanar vagina. "So… this one?" She pointed at the vagina with a gloved hand.
"Next one up, hatchling."
Sara could feel the blood drain in her face. She had really hoped that she had been wrong about a sex toy being up the Hanar's bum.
"So… what now?"
"Start digging." Trevalis replied, non-plussed.
"Okay, you can do this." Sara whispered to herself as she winced, her gloved right hand slowly making its way towards the orifice in question. She shut her eyes tightly as she stuck two lubricated fingers into the Hanar's sphincter, her face scrunching up as she whispered eww, eww, eww, as her fingers sank in easily to her knuckles. "I… ah… don't feel anything, Alixa." She looked to the Turian, who merely stood there with her arms crossed over her chest carapace.
"Not deep enough."
Sara felt the blood drain from her face. Again.
"If it makes you feel any better," Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara spoke up, obviously amused, "the Havershan Model XD is probably thicker than your forearm, Youngling. The Hanar probably won't even notice."
"Oh Gawd…" Sara felt a strong wave of nausea with that, even gagging a little. She winced once more as she pulled out her two fingers, pressed all her fingers into her thumb to make an inverted cone, and then pushed her way into the rectal orifice, her gloved hand slipping in rather easily. When she reached her knuckles, Sara squeaked a little as she pressed in further, her hand sinking in without much difficulty. When she reached the end of her glove, Sara wasn't sure if she was doing it correctly. "I… ah… don't feel anything yet."
"We were both quite enthusiastic." The young Maiden admitted sheepishly, blushing furiously. "When I tried to… um… remove it myself, I was perhaps… half of my forearm deep." Sara blanched at that as both Asha T'mara and Jarvis Latarus both tried hard not to chuckle.
"You can do this, Sara." Alixa encouraged her, taking a knee beside the Human, her flanged voice soft but assured. "You have the skinniest arms, so thus will have the least difficult time and cause the least amount of discomfort for the patient." Sara looked to Trevalis' plated face and nodded, the talk actually helping. All that the Barber-Surgeon had said was true; she was the best choice. Ryder bit her lower lip as her wrist disappeared into the Hanar, and then her forearm, too. "You are doing well, little one. Just keep searching until you find something solid."
"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" Sara whispered as her face contorted with disgust as her arm went further in until she felt… something! "I… I think I found it!" She said with wonder, her fingertips finding something that wasn't organic. "I… almost got it!" She concentrated as her fingers opened up to find the shape of the object, trying to work around the object without pushing it further in. "I do got it! It's… really slimy." Sara winced as she tried not to imagine that she had opened her hand inside an aliens' bum to grab something and pull it out. She had a firm grip on the object, and she began pulling it out, feeling it sliding out with her arm. "Almost… there…"
Her hand, and the object, popped out, and Sara got a good look at the device in question.
"OH MY FRIGGEN GOD!" Sara shrieked as she flung the Havershan Deluxe Full Attenuation Model XD that she had been holding by the base, the cylindrical object landing on the bedroom floor in front of Chief Shayla Talis, writhing and squirming. Chief Talis merely looked down at the object in question, clearly amused. Sara stared at the object, realizing that Asha was right; it was both longer and thicker than her forearm. "What the heck is that!"
"That would be an Elcor phallic prosthesis." The Asari Chief replied, a lopsided smile on her face as she looked at Sara. "Apparently, it wiggles, too."
Sara stared at her in horror. And then she retched all over the floor.
"BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The roar of Urdnot Wrex's laughter rang out through the range as most everyone else was either chuckling or snickering. Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams had no issue laughing out loud herself, seeing Petty Officer Sara Ryder's face twisted at the memory, a half-smile on her face as she shook her head. Even the Skipper was smiling, though it was obvious she knew of it from before. Ash briefly wondered if that had been a story for the dinner table at the Ryder household. No, likely not.
"Well, all those old tropes about alien anal probing back in the day, Doc gets to have revenge." Ballsack announced as Lapdance snickered out loud, while Brassiere smacked Balsach upside the head. "What? It's not like you ever hear a story where a chick is giving anal!"
"Bra? Again." Sara said, no tone in her voice whatsoever.
"Ow!"
That had everyone laughing again.
"So that's my story." Sara Ryder said.
"And I'm sticking to it!"
Author's Note: NSFW, the next portion will involve a LI-esque escapade involving a bar, a Marine, and a female in a consensual manner. Actually, I got creative with this. Some of you who like romancing Engineers might cry at this possibility. Enjoy.
Temporary Troop Building 32, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 28, 2183
Ten days of non-stop training. Ten days of ranges and simulators. Fourteen hours for each day. The basics. Advanced techniques. Blending different military thought from several different species into a unique paradigm of tactics, training, and procedures. The fifteen ground team members of the newly-minted TEAM LION had just ended the rigorous session with a grueling twelve-hour simulated mission involving one of the most brutal operations in the known galaxy; a hold-out mission involving the Turian Hierarchy defending a Salarian STG Team delivering the Genophage to the Tuchanka Shroud from no less than five Krogan warbands.
The simulation had most of its safety protocols disabled while its difficulty setting had actually been coded to be more difficult than the maximum setting; the Lion herself had called it 'Ultraviolence'. Hundreds of holographically-replicated Krogan warriors had been populated onto a battlefield in which TEAM LION had to defend the entrance to the Shroud Complex in brutal combat against the toughest species in the galaxy in what was known to be one of the most difficult missions ever. The ground team had trained hard, many of them already elite combatants in their own right, made deadlier through the use of teamwork, tactics, communications, and the Almighty firearm. The training, the sweat, the sore muscles and aching limbs had paid off as the twelve-hour mission had been completed, the warbands destroyed and the mission declared a success. It was as close to as the real thing as could be crafted to prepare Captain Jane Shepard and her team for the coming days when they would engage the Geth.
Ten days of brutal training… and now a night off on their own.
"Whoo! Par-tee!" Private Nathanial Balsach called out as he fist-pumped the air, dressed in civilian-oriented clothes meant for young men with the thought of a night making ill-advised decisions. With him was PFC Holland Hoss and Private Louis Broussard, both of them dressed with the intent of going to a bar and picking up girls. Louis looked to his idiotic friend, hoping that Ballsack wouldn't end up in a brig. Again. "Gonna go honey-huntin' tonight! Anything less than an eight is unacceptable."
"Is that with the beer goggles on, Ballsack?" Doc asked, standing a couple meters away as she talked to the Skipper, the redheaded Captain and their Doc also dressed for a night out on the Arc. It was hard not to stare at his superiors. Doc was wearing a black turtleneck shoulderless top that certainly conformed to her curves with a pair of slacks that made a man's mouth water. That was just Goddamn unfair. The Captain wasn't much better, wearing a body-hugging fire engine red spaghetti-strap top that showed skin in all the right places, and a pair of hip-hugging capri pants that were very accentuating. It was like window-shopping in an expensive store where one was too afraid to touch anything out of fear of breaking something one couldn't afford to pay. Staff Sergeant Williams was entering the Troop Area, and she had dolled up, too, wearing a blue blouse that hugged every centimeter of her athletic torso, and a pair of black slacks that did wonders to her… no, stop looking.
Window-shopping. Expensive store. Can't afford it.
Mon Dieu, totally unfair.
"Poor Uncle Steven is going to be getting some unexpected reinforcements in about nine months or so." The Skipper added, making the Staff Sergeant chuckle as Ballsack just grinned, failing utterly at realizing that the joke was on him. Nate was a good guy and a good friend, the kind that would give you the shirt off his back. He just required… someone else to do the heavy thinking for him. "Alright! For everyone going on Liberty," there were about three dozen that the statement applied to, many of the Sailors opting for sleep as a totally acceptable option, "Report back at 0900 for light duty rotation and be prepared to take a look at the new-and-improved Normandy at 1000 tomorrow, with a ship-out time of 1400. No brigs, no emergency room visits, and no punctuality issues. If you do, you will not be liking the rest of your life. Are we clear?"
"Aye aye, ma'am!" Everyone announced loudly and together.
"Good! To the Dionysus where first round is on me!" Ballsack whooped at that, and Bra had to admit that Captain Shepard was an awesome Commanding Officer. She cared about the mission, she cared about her men, and she was absolutely without mercy towards the enemy. Just like a CO should be. Most Marines knocked Navy for their laxness and laziness, but the Lion was in a category all of her own, the pinnacle of leadership and lethality. She was an N7, after all. And a Council SPECTRE.
Sometimes, Louis couldn't believe his luck.
The Dionysus was the club of Mid-Hub on the Arc, the 'other' bar that wasn't the Non-Com Club meant for Non-Commissioned Officers in the Navy or Marines. More oriented for civilians (and military personnel who wanted to let their hair down, so to speak), Dionysus was privately-owned and updated to current flavors and standards, playing popular Human music and hosting many beers, liquors, mixed drinks, and bar-oriented games. Bra had been there twice, and the Dionysus was a fine club in which the female population outnumbered the male population (which was perfectly fine with him), the drinks were reasonably-priced, and the dance floor was never empty. He hoped that he would be successful in finding pleasurable female companionship for the night himself. After a couple months on Therum, the loss of Red Platoon, the Wake, and the brutal training week, he could use a night of regrettable awesomeness. While he wasn't a walking hard-on with a pulse like Ballsack (really, most Marines, to be honest), the death of his friend Mikael Holodansk had struck a nerve. Blowjob had been his bunkmate in Boot, his partner-in-crime during Passes, almost like a real brother to him. The Wake had been a hard goodbye, and he knew that Doc took Blowjob's loss just as hard as he did; no Doc wanted to lose their Marines.
Dionysus was busy with the nighttime crowds attending the popular club, just on the shy side of crowded, but more than healthily populated. The Marine Private had to wind his way through the crowd of Humans, both civilian and civilian-clad military, just to reach the full-length bar with at least half-a-dozen bartenders working the synthwood counter to have orders served as readily as possible. A good portion of the SSV Normandy's crew was present to take advantage of the free first round offer as Louis approached the bar, and surprised to see a blue-clad figure who was covered from reilk-to-double toes standing at the bar as well. He never would have guessed that Niki'Raan nar Tombay would be at a Human bar.
"Niki! Ordering anything good?" Broussard asked the EnviroSuit-clad Quarian Pilgrim as he stepped next to her at the bar, raising his voice to be heard over the din of voices and dance/pop playing over the club's sound system, the bass thumping to a popular dance mix.
"I can't get any of these bosh'tets to even look at me!" The Quarian woman replied, her tone venomous as her blue-tinted visor turned towards him, her vocalizer blinking with her words as her veiled silvery eyes were shrewdly narrowed at him. That had the Private wince. Being in a Human-populated bar on a Systems Alliance Military Station? Yeah, he wished he could say he was surprised at that.
"Garçon!" Broussard shouted as loudly as he could, as only a Marine could, getting the attention of a blond female server in a tight white blouse with more than a few of the upper buttons undone to reveal and emphasize her pressed upward, inward, and together cleavage. "Get me an AMF and a…" He looked to Niki.
"Banarlus with a shotglass of Haxvanar dropped to the bottom." The Pilgrim replied tentatively, obviously realizing what Louis was doing.
"… a Turian Car Bomb." The Marine indicated to the blond server, who scowled slightly at the sight of a Human ordering a drink for an alien before turning to do so. Well, fuck her. "Keep an eye on that one and make sure she uses the right drinks."
"The right drinks, or the right chiliary?" The blue-suited Quarian asked, her tone filled with scorn. Louis knew it wasn't aimed at him.
"Yes."
"I'm Quarian. That's what we do anyhow whenever another species is serving us anything from food to items." He winced at that, not having realized that something like that would be the case. He probably should have, considering the general fell reputation that the Quarians had amongst the others in the galaxy. Okay, so the Quarian race had fucked up. Seriously… whose hadn't?
"That's bullshit." Louis philosophized simply as he kept an eye on the blond server, making sure that both his drink and Niki's were made properly. "That's just the opinion of petty, simple-minded motherfuckers who evidently can't think for themselves." The veiled silvery eyes widened from behind the blued visor, studying him for a moment as Louis kept his eye on their drinks. Hell, now that he thought about it, it was a good idea for any woman to keep an eye on their drink.
"You… you really think so?" The Quarian's tone was curious, her head tilting slightly to the right. "I mean… you don't care?"
"I grew up in Elysium." Broussard explained simply, but saw that the location of his birth planet didn't actually mean anything to Niki like it would have to a Human. "Ah. Elysium's population is… close to half non-Human. It's more diverse than any other locations in Earth Alliance Space. So… I grew up with more than just Humans around." He shrugged his shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the galaxy for him. Honestly, it was. Like Doc, he was raised in a place where the inclusion of others was just the way things were. Not having non-Humans around was sometimes weird for him. "Never really understood it, y'know? Not even a hundred percent how it's the Quarians fault, actually. You built robotic labor like everyone else in the galaxy, and you gave them limited intelligence like everyone else in the galaxy. They evolved on their own… so how is it you're to blame?" The drinks came, and Louis was satisfied that the server had done it properly, having kept an eye on her the whole time. He raised his Aldrin Lab's Bluewire OmniTool and scanned his EID to pay for the drinks as he took both glasses and handed Niki's to her like a gentleman should. "My guess? The dickhead Council species are just grateful it happened to you first instead of them. Shitting on the little guy, if you ask me."
Niki held her Turian Car Bomb in both three-fingered hands, but just stared at him for a long moment.
"Can… can we get a table together?" The Pilgrim asked, her words rushed slightly. "I was going to try and sit with one of our team members because I trust one of us while I'm here, and I would like that to be you."
"Sure, not a problem." Broussard understood what Raan was saying. She was a Quarian and a woman in a Human bar; she wanted to feel safe, and she was picking him to help with that. That was pretty cool, actually. "Finding an empty table might be a chore, though."
"No worries. Once I sit down somewhere, I don't doubt I'll clear it." There was bitterness and resignation in her vox's tone, and the Marine wished he could say that she might be wrong, but he knew better. Still, he knew the right thing to do for any woman feeling down about something.
He took her by her three-fingered hand and held it within his own.
"Let's go find that table." The Private said with a smile, giving her an encouraging wink as he moved to where the tables were located in the back portion of Dionysus, threading his way through the crowds with Niki in two, holding her had as he made their way towards a promising prospect; there was a table where a man with a military-styled high-and-tight was leading a woman away in hand, either to dance or go someplace less populated. Louis took advantage of the situation by claiming the table, setting down his AMF first before grabbing an available chair and holding it out for the Pilgrim. She looked at what he was doing curiously.
"A man is suppose to pull out a chair to seat a lady." He explained to her, getting an 'ahhh' from her vox as the customary courtesy was identified and Niki'Raan took to the chair, tucking her legs under the seat to compensate for her digitigrade legs, her longer feet and higher heels meaning she couldn't place her toes in front of her comfortably. So her toes went under her so that her knees were only slightly elevated. Broussard assumed Quarian-manufactured chairs were likely shaped differently or stood taller. He scooted the chair closer to the table once Raan figured out what he was doing, thanking him politely as he sat down next to her. He was amused to see her pull out from one of her 'Suit pouches a sort of high-tech straw; it had a box-like apparatus near the top, about the size of a die. He knew what it was without being told; a purifier. Niki stuck the straw in her drink and connected the top to a detachable tubing from near her helmet; a drinking apparatus. She connected the tubing to the straw. Well, that was handy, if a little odd to see someone drinking liquor out of a tube. He wasn't going to knock it, though.
"If you were worried about how you might be treated, why did you come to a Human bar?" Broussard asked the Quarian, seeing her drink get a little lower without a sound being made.
"A part of a Pilgrimage is to experience life outside the Flotilla." Her vox replied, Niki's blue-tinted visor looking right at him as they talked over the music. "It likely affirms to us that we are on our own, but it also teaches us how to be self-efficient as well as being a lesson on how to adapt to a number of situations and scenarios. You never know what you might face, so it teaches us a little about ourself without the security of the Race and the Flotilla to rely upon. Plus I wanted a drink after that grueling week!" That had the Marine laugh.
"Totally agree with you on that one." Louis hoisted his own glass and drank a little of his AMF. Now he was wishing he had gotten something a little lighter in alcohol. "I've never had a training module that tough, that intense, or that exhausting. Almost opted for sleep, but I thought I'd reward myself." The Skipper had put in the paperwork to have the Marines from 1B3/7 MAR permanently relocated to the SSV Normandy the day they arrived on the Arc, and it had been approved of later that day; record time, Louis figured. Doc and Staff Sergeant both mentioned to him that he should be expecting a promotion at the first of the month thanks to his firing abilities and general lack of idiocy. He deserved a little reward, especially with them shipping out the next day. To the Cit, of all places. Broussard found himself talking to Niki, only sipping his AMF instead of drinking it or chugging it.
Louis honestly lost track of time as he talked to Niki, finding himself having a great time with her. Niki'Raan had her obvious difference, a Quarian being raised on the Migrant Fleet, but she had likes and dislikes, dreams and dedications. He found her to be smart, sassy, very much into guns (she did want to be a Migrant Fleet Marine), and looking forward to creating new ways to destroy the Geth. He even surprised her by pulling her out on the dance floor when a catchy dance tune came on, the electrodubpop song dropping pulsing beats and minimalist on other instruments as a Human female vocalist sang in a haunting tone as Louis taught the Quarian how to dance with a Human (generally club grinding) while she returned the favor during the next drop beat song, showing him how Quarians danced. The two of them accidentally bumped into Doc Ryder on the dance floor, the Corpsman giving them both an appraising look and a smile in the darklight of the club as a synthwave song came on next, Broussard dancing with the Pilgrim in front of him, her back pressed into his chest as she grinded her hips into his, evidently quite liking doing Human club grinding. Louis wasn't complaining either, his hands on her exaggerated hips, getting over the awkwardness of dancing with a girl with digitigrade legs and heels up near her calves pretty quickly.
"Let's go somewhere."
'Somewhere' ended up being back in the Troop Building reserved for the Normandiers ten minutes, Niki'Raan practically pushing the Marine into a room as he backpedaled into a wall, the Quarian pressing herself against him, her three-fingered hands upon his chest, massaging them with the pads of her thick fingers. It was a little strange, but not unpleasant.
"I want to show you something." Louis mumbled an agreement as he watched Raan dial something on her suit before pulling back her rielk to show a composite weave full head covering with an apparatus going up along the neck and over the crown of her skull, which looked a little longer than a Human's. Much to his shock, she tapped something else and saw her face plate detach, pushing out and sliding upward from the sealed frame that surrounded her face. Broussard was almost mortified at the thought… until he saw the slightest blue tint over the exposed portion, indicating a Kiggs atmospheric ionization field. Of course Quarians would have figured something like that out after all this time! Hell, back-up atmospheric barriers were standard on military-oriented helmets in case visors were cracked or breeched!
The Marine found himself looking upon Niki'Raan's exposed face, and looking at it in wonder and awe.
He had no idea what Quarians were suppose to look like, and was shocked to see that they were… well, quite humanoid, very similar to Humans and Asari, in fact! Her facial structure was remarkably similar in shape with her forehead and nose, though her cheekbones were a little more pronounced and her nostrils didn't curve inward at the crelons, instead sloping a little more towards the cheeks. Her lips were remarkably similar as well, though there was a split at the middle of the upper lip, like a cat's though not as pronounced. Her skin was easily the biggest difference, the color of light lavender with a tint of gray in it. Her eyes were, unsurprisingly, luminescent and silver, with white speckled motes where the pupils would be. She didn't have eyebrows, and he couldn't see if she had any hair thanks to the head covering and the face-frame that kept her environmentally sealed.
"God… you're beautiful." Louis was utterly amazed. He was seeing his first Quarian, really seeing one, and she was utterly gorgeous. Her face just had that cherubic cuteness to it that was both adorable and appealing, and the minor differences between Quarian and Human made it wonderfully exotic, not a deterrent. He he always figured that Quarians might have looked a bit like Turians, being dextro and all, but he was shocked to see that they were very similar to Humans and Asari in appearance. Niki smiled at him, and Louis saw that her teeth were narrower than a Humans, and the canines were a bit longer and pointier than the others, almost exactly like a felines. The canines dimpled her full lower lip slightly, and it was actually pretty cute. "Is kissing possible?" The Marine wanted to know what her lips felt like.
"Yes. The field is malleable to a certain degree." Broussard could hear her natural voice, accented and throaty. He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against Niki's, pleasantly surprised that he could actually feel her skin. Evidently, the Kiggs field was thin enough for sensation to pass through, but not so permeable that possible contagions could. Her lips were soft and pleasant, and he felt her three-fingered hands slipping into his own as they stood closer, their bodies gently pressing into one another's. One kiss led to another, and he became aware of a low… purring noise. Was Niki purring? If that were the case, then he was obviously doing something right. She certainly wasn't pushing him off. "You are good at kissing." The Quarian said as she pulled away, looking a little shy, her silvery eyes on him. "I was hoping you might be. What was that thing with your tongue? When you touched mine."
"French kissing. Did you like it?" Was that a Human-only thing?
"Very much." Louis found himself being pulled towards the center of the room until the back of his legs hit the bed placed in the middle and he fell upon it. He saw that he didn't need to bother getting back up as Niki'Raan mounted the bed above him, crawling over him in a very feline-like fashion. The Quarian laid upon him, her body pressing into his own, and thought went away as he got lost in the moment, wrapping his arms around the Pilgrim's lithe body as she became a willing and active participant. Broussard found himself very thankful that he kept it to just one AMF, and kept it slow at that, being able to enjoy what was happening with a more clear mind. To say that he was absolutely horny as fuck was being modest; the way Niki was gyrating on him was making him absolutely nuts.
"Can you remove your leggings? I don't know how to work Human pants." The Pilgrim asked him, her tone almost pleading. The Marine almost gaped at the request, but it certainly didn't stop him from fulfilling it, his hands going to the clasp of his jeans, undoing them quickly and shuffling them and his undergarments down past his hips and halfway down his thighs. Niki sat up at his lap and looked. Yep, she was certainly checking him out.
"You certainly are built for success." Her tone was quite amused, giving him a suggestive smile. Well, that was encouraging. And quite leading to a realization.
Oh my God, I think I'm about to have sex with a Quarian!
"I… ah… don't know what to do next." Broussard admitted lamely, feeling pretty shitty doing so. Niki'Raan was in a full EnviroSuit, and he had no idea how this was suppose to work out. "I don't want you getting hurt or sick or…"
"Don't worry, Louis." The Pilgrim assure him as she positioned herself in what he assumed was a more appropriate manner, placing her crotch right on top of his own. He could almost feel the warmth radiating out of it, and oh God he was so fucking horny. "We have a monomolecular elastic barrier that prevents any contaminates from entering during sexual intercourse integrated into our suits."
"You have a built-in condom." Of course! It was unreasonable to think that after three hundred years or so, the Quarian race wouldn't have thought up of something. If they had to spend half their lives as virgins and only looked forward to having sex with exactly one partner a few times in their life, the Migrant Fleet probably would have committed suicide-by-Geth long ago trying to win back Rannoch out of sexual frustration alone! "Whoever invented that should be rightfully worshiped as a God." Broussard claimed, believing every word.
"Indeed." Niki smiled, her cute little canine fangs making it all the more adorable. "Care to test the soundproofing of this room?" The Pilgrim asked with a smirk as she slipped a hand down towards his crotch, and Louis found himself being guided towards the right spot for a Quarian.
His last non-sexual thought was that he really hoped the soundproofing was quite good. Because he fully intended to defeat it.
Author's Notes: So I went all out for a Fight Fest and some fun for you. Because fluff chapters aren't always about sex. But I had that as well. C'mon, don't look at me like I don't know what we do on weekend nights when we were teens and young adults. Not to mention what the Navy does on shore leave. You like the fluff.
Icky Thump - The White Stripes, off of their six and most recent album. I think it's about sex at first, but then again, Jack White makes about as much sense as Bob Dylan on a sobriety streak.
The M-37 Falcon - I'm sure most of you who played ME3 are saying that "the Falcon shot explosive rounds!" but en contrare! The first M-37 Falcon was seen in Mass Effect: Infiltrator, in the hands of the Turian Prisoner once you beat the mobile game with Randall Ezno. The weapon was a rifle/shotgun that could switch back and forth for heat management, yet wasn't upgradeable (in fact, the Turian got no cookies whatsoever). The M-37 Falcon Infiltrator gets its day in the sun as Sara's main weapon. The weapon is based off the M-96 Mattock Auto from Infiltrator, as well as the M-22 Evicerator, combined. I went with the Mattock, upgraded it to full-auto, improved the heat sink, slapped a Katana on it, and gave it the 'overkill' option of a five-shot rifle/one-blast shotgun option. For fun.
The Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver - Anyone that's read Where The Law Stands Tall and its sequel A Fox Amongst The Wolves will recognize the big iron that Marshal Samantha Collins carried. The weapon is considered 'illegal' because it is a mass driver (electromagnetic gates instead of rails, like a coil gun), doesn't use Eezo, and has multiple heatsinks for a singular barrel (meaning the Falcon mentioned above is technically legal). It also has no software management suite, IFF protocols, and cannot be shutdown by police forces or SPECTREs, meaning it can fire at any time, doesn't change round size due to target variance, and can possibly put a hole through a hull. That's also illegal in the Treaty of Farixen/Citadel Conventions, and I do believe that some of this is mentioned in Canon somewhere.
'…the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century' is in fact an early-21st Century pop culture reference from the movie Sin City, when Clive Owen's character Dwight described Mickey Rorke's character Marv.
Sara's story about the Hanar and Asari was actually from the first Sara Ryder: Milky Way story I had written before it became an integral part of Of Lions And Angels, known as "Firstborn", where Sara is an CitEMS paramedic on a Skybulance. If you've ever wondered why that portion of her life seems detailed for a side story or comment, that is why. There were about seven concepts before I made OLaA, different portions being used. The Krogan fight with Sara actually comes with another, "Anything's Possible!", Sara's education comes from "My Binary Star", and Sara being on Elysium during the attack (and subsequently meeting Shepard) comes from "The Lion And The Angel". The other three stories ( "Daddy's Little Girl", "Citadel Blues", and "The Embassy Intern") all have small inserts, but are mostly left unused save for what will come to be known as The Red Harvest from "Citadel Blues" later on in this story. Sara dating an alien comes from "Daddy's Little Girl", though she dates a male Turian (and all that encompasses) and is only sparsely mentioned. Likely, "The Embassy Intern" won't be brought up as Sara works as an Intern in the Human Embassy during 2181-2185 as a college intern for a PoliSci degree in UCit, working under Ambassador/Councilor Donnel Udina. The only credible mention of that story is Sara's nickname for Udina; Dumbassador.
Hanar… genitalia? Canon from the first Mass Effect suggested that Hanar were actually a three-gendered species, but I think it was retconn'ed later on (there was a fair bit removed/dropped, but you might be able to find it in the actual Game Codex itself). There's really only two ways to have a third gender; neither… or both. I went the hermaphrodite route for the third gender. I do believe that there are some aquatic species on Earth that are self-propagating (meaning they produce both the seed and germ for procreation, like many plants can) so this isn't complete fiction. Likewise, some amphibians (frogs and a few others) can switch genders if needed.
AMF - Adios Motherfucker - The cousin of the Long Island Ice Tear, the AMF is a pint of ice with Vodka, Gin, Tequila, White Rum, Blue Caracao, Sweet and Sour, and a splash of 7-Up in a glass. It isn't a sipping whiskey. Meant for the causal alcoholic, partier, and a night full of questionable decisions made (and waking up in strange locations with regrettable partners).
Turian Car Bomb - The Dextro version of the Irish Car Bomb, which is a pint of Guinness with a shotglass of Jameson or Bush Mills along with Bailey's Irish Creme dropped into the bottom. The traditional St. Patrick's Day cocktail. For the Turian version, it's called Meritocide; guaranteed to fuck up whatever level of Citizenship you happen to be in in the Hierarchy Meritocracy. Created in "My Binary Star" and shipped on over here because it was too funny to pass up.
Big Canon Change - I know some of you are likely probably ready to rip my tongue out and beat me to death with it with the canon change to the Quarian's EnviroSuit. Some of you are probably thinking Of Course! at the fact that after three hundred years, the Quarians would have obviously thought up of something. Yes, the Shadow Broker files do reveal that Tali has a NerveStim program that works as some sort of device for sexual relief. But this could be easily be considered as Tali's method, not really wishing to have sex with aliens as she is the only Quarian on board the Normandy and Normandy-2. Joker has an atmospheric barrier helmet during the attack of the Normandy, meaning the possibility of an 'air bubble' can exist, and emergency Kiggs Fields are pretty commonplace in Sci-Fi media (under a variety of names), so at the least the concept is there, if never introduced.
Yes, Niki looks a little different than what that ONE PICTURE suggests. BioWare really screwed the pooch on that one. I would have done the reveal on Rannoch, after the liberation, when Tali unmasks herself, full-face and a few seconds worth of time with a fade out at the end. A bad Photoshop effort at a bad angle with a powerful glare in it was just… who the hell thought that was a good idea? Ugh.
So my Quarians are slightly felinoid, as Asari are aquatic, Turians avian, Salarians amphibious, Elcor pachyderm, Hanar invertebrate, and Humans primate. Not too much, just a hint of it. We're not going furry here, after all.