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EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 3, 2183
Author's Note: Here, I'm going to talk about the gift that keeps on giving. I'm sure more than a few Vets will get this reference.
Private First Class Louis Broussard headed down to the SSV Normandy's Cargo Bay for morning PT, dressed in his Systems Alliance Marine Corps Physical Fitness Training uniform, a midnight-blue t-shirt with 'MARINES' stenciled in gray across the chest, and a pair of black sports shorts. It was almost 0530, and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams would be leading PT, doing her best to make sure the platoons' arms fell off doing push ups, pull ups, and overhead presses. He exited the elevator, not surprised to see that Captain Jane Shepard, 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder were already there, dressed and ready to 'get their swoll on' as Doc always said. He wasn't surprised to see that Doc already looked like she had been working out, usually adding her own regimen of bag lifts, double-body weight squats, clean and jerk lifts, and doing a light jog with a Navy SeaBag that weighed in at a hundred kilograms for her exercises. That was Doc for you.
"Bra, see you like showing up early. Unlike some I know." Gunny Williams called out as he arrived into the portion of the Cargo Bay where the Marines and other Human members of TEAM LION did PT and other personal regimens. Oh, SFC Williams did not like being called 'Gunny', as she was Colonial Army, but the Marines liked to tease her. And got smoked for their humor.
"Aye aye, Top. Being all I can be." That had Doc snort at the old Army tagline as Sergeant Williams' brown eyes narrowed dangerously at him, trying to figure out if he was teasing her or being sincere. The Skipper was merely shaking her head, not bothering to hide her smile as she mouthed the word nice to him. The other Marines showed up, Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss coming in first with Private First Class Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu in tow. Broussard saw Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach exiting the elevator last, looking distraught and walking… funny. Like he had to take a crap or had just gotten kicked in the balls. Ballsack's face was a mask of worry.
"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Bra asked.
"Doc? I think I need you to look at something." The Private said, his voice meek and mild; that alone meant something was wrong. Ballsack was a loud idiot whose mouth was at FTL speed while his brain was set at zero functionality. They had gone to the Flux last night for a few hours Liberty, and Nate had gotten pretty drunk, hitting on anything semi-resembling a woman. Ballsack had showed up early morning hours with a parsec-wide grin, still pretty drunk and boasting about getting laid. Doc Ryder frowned, and Bra noticed that Ballsack was holding onto his PT shorts like they were going to fall down to his ankles due to gravity. "I think I caught something." That was admitted very meekly.
"Uh oh." Gunny Williams smirked, her face all too knowing. "The gift that keeps on giving." Louis snorted at that. The Army called it that, too?
"From last night?" Doc asked, her face scrunching up. "Alright, Ballsack. Let me take a look." The Corpsman sighed as she took a few steps forward and pulled the elastic band of Ballsack's PT shorts forward to take a peek downward. Louis didn't see what she saw, but he certainly saw her reaction; a rather surprised double-take. "Okay. Wow. Yep, Medbay."
"Is it going to fall off?" Nate practically squeaked out. "Please don't lie to me, Doc."
What?
"It'll be fine with some anti-histamines and cortisone creams. I won't even need to lance it to drain the fluids." That had the Marine Private squeak. Bra and Lapdance just shared a look that said what the fuck? to one another. "As a suggestion? Next time you sleep with a female of the dextro variety? Wear a condom."
"No fucking way! You slept with a Turian!" Hoss hooted, slapping his thigh as he laughed out loud. "God, that's got to feel like cuddling with a washboard made out of sandpaper!"
"It wasn't that bad." The Private protested, but then his face winced. "My dick really hurts, though. I didn't think it would be that color or that size afterwards."
"Marines." Captain Shepard said, shaking her head as she looked to Lieutenant Alenko. "Now I'm almost curious what color and size it is now."
"Um… serious?" Bra tried not to facepalm himself. Ballsack was an idiot.
"Okay, I'm officially curious now." Gunny Williams responded, her arms folded across her chest. "You did the dirty deed, but it don't count unless you got proof. You're willing to whip it out for a Turian chick."
"Um… okay." Broussard groaned as Balsach decided to take the Colonial Army Soldiers' word, and dropped his drawers in front of Cargo Bay, Crew, and Commanding Officer.
"Holy… shit." Holland's jaw was practically at his knees it dropped so hard, looking at…
"I think it's going to burst." Louis said, somewhere in between horrified and mystified. He was actually shocked that it hadn't exploded, it was that swollen. And that purple. It looked like an eggplant that caught the chicken pox, Broussard thought. He didn't even know human flesh could turn that color. Or be that grotesquely swollen. He know of dextro-allergy reaction, but that was usually a warning for food. Now? Also personal exploration.
"Oh yeah, that's Turian Dick, alright." Doc Ryder confirmed, nodding her head as everyone just stared at Balsach. Or more specifically, his allergy-swollen organ. "Seen it a few times back in CitEMS. No worries, I won't have to cut it off or anything." That had the Private whimper.
"What is everyone looking atOh My Fucking God!" Seaman Rosamund Dravens came from the elevator and had gotten curious as to why everyone was staring at Private Balsach. The young LADAR Technician was now staring at the same thing everyone else was. "Dude, what happened to your penis?"
"Stuck it somewhere he shouldn't have." Ubantu replied, the dark-skinned Marine getting a snicker from Hoss. "It might fall off. Or explode."
"It's not going to explode, is it Doc?" Nate was almost in tears. Louis didn't feel sorry for him at all, though the sight of his overtly-swollen organ had him wincing. Okay, perhaps he felt a little sorry.
"I hope this doesn't make the recruitment ads." Lieutenant Alenko said to the Captain, looking bemused. Louis noted that, from out of nowhere, Detective Garrus Vakarian was standing near the group, his strangely-shaped eyes assessing the damage as well. The Marine hadn't seen or heard the Turian come in, or where he had come from. Something that large shouldn't be that quiet.
"Mated with a Turian female, I see." The Rapid Response Sniper nodded his fringed head sagely. "Had that before. It gets more interesting when it starts leaking pus." Balsach looked ready to cry.
"Garrus! He doesn't know that isn't true." The Corpsman admonished the Turian, turning back to the afflicted Private. "We'll go to Medbay, and we can have it back to normal in about a day or two. It will involve some shots at the site, though."
"You mean…?" Even Ballsack knew what Doc meant. Every guy in the Cargo Bay winced, even the Detective.
"Those shots hurt." The sniper nodded. "You can trust me on that."
"Medbay, now!" Doc Ryder announced, pointing to the Cargo Bay elevator while flashing the Detective a dirty look. Balsach slipped his PT shorts back on with gentle care as he walked funny back towards the conveyance with Doc right behind him. As soon as they were gone, Captain Shepard started laughing.
"I guess we get to do a 'Kirk' Award for Ballsack." The redhead announced, making everyone groan at the reference to a sci-fi Captain with a propensity of sleeping with aliens. "I'm just shocked it didn't, I dunno, rip through the skin?"
"A part of me hurt looking at it. And that's not biologically possible." Gummy Williams announced, getting Lapdance to snicker. "Now I'm curious how Garrus knows that the shots Balsach needs really do hurt."
Everyone looked at the Sniper.
"Dude, you banged a Human girl?" Hoss asked, utterly perplexed. Hoss wasn't the brightest LED in the set, but he had certainly called it.
"Rude. We don't call it that." The Turian replied. He certainly wasn't denying it, though. "Found out the hard way our first time. I feel sorry for that female Turian Ballsack was with. She's having the same issue right now."
"Wait! You mean…" Rosamund Dravens looked at the C-SEC Officer in horror, pointing in the direction that Balsach had gone. "Inside?"
"Yes. I imagine it's quite uncomfortable right now." Louis tried not to think of how, somewhere out on the Citadel, there was a female Turian with a grossly-swollen uterus, probably lying in her bed, moaning and groaning. "There are applications, of course. But they're meant to be applied before. If one doesn't?" The Sniper shrugged. "The shots."
"That's just eww." Williams stuck out her tongue in disgust. Broussard found himself very grateful that Niki'Raan nar Tombay had a built-in condom in her EnviroSuit, otherwise, he would have had Turian Dick. And she… did he even want to know the equivalent? "Feel sorry for the girl you… y'know?"
"It's called 'Bird Flu'." The Detective replied dryly, and Hoss had to cover another snicker. "The flip side is known as 'Monkey Cum'." The Sniper was surprised when all the Humans had a good laugh at what he expected to be a racially-derogatory term. "What?"
"That's the nickname of a weapon lubricant and axial greaser we use for cold weather." The Skipper replied, still chuckling. "It's called 'LSAT'; Lubricant Solvent, Arctic Temperature. But we call it 'Monkey Cum' because it's white, thick, and creamy." Everyone had another good round of laughter at the Detective's expense when his mandibles flared out.
"Humans are weird." The Sniper declared.
"Says the guy banging one." Gunny snarked back. Everyone laughed again.
Doctor Liara T'soni stood in front of a piece of SMARTglass set against one of the walls of the SSV Normandy's Cargo Bay walls, looking upon all the recent acquisitions that the SciTech Department had gathered over the past two days. Petty Officer Sara Ryder had collaborated a great deal of ideas with the help of her Department pertaining to ideas and answers to threats and assessments towards what the Geth were capable of. There was now a separate holographic intelligence tree labeled 'Saren Arterius' pertaining to his possible capabilities. The answers under that heading were very little and blink.
"Raeka? Tali? I want you two to look at everyone's armor and make sure we have all our software suites updated and CyWar defenses meshed and compliant." Chief Ryder talked as she addressed her department, the smaller Human female fitting well in her position. "You are better at software than everyone else, so what I want you to do is install as many hardcoded programs as we can fit into the memory chips as we have space for, and make sure that the coolant systems are linked to the polymath processors in case the Geth get creative and try to disable hardware with hacks. Then I want you to turn around and hit it with everything you've got, anything you can think of, and see what works and what doesn't. I do not want to find out on the field where we are vulnerable if I can help it. Have SAM assist you in looking for coding errors and mal-scripts in your methods."
"Different codes in different armors would deny the Geth all-inclusive capabilities in case they do hack through our firewalls and defender programs." Tali'Zorah nar Reyya replied, the Quarians thinking it over. "It will always be a possibility that the Geth will get into something, but changing different languages and programming means it will limit a vulnerability to just one member, instead of them exploiting the same vulnerability in everyone."
"Concur." Special Tasks Group Agent Zevin Raeka replied, nodding her head.
"Okay. More work, but better chances. I like it." Ryder nodded her head. "Garrus? Weapons. I know a gun nut like you probably wants to craft the most potential kinetic energy per shot in each weapon," the Turian's mandibles grinned at that, "but we need versatility, too. I'm thinking a sustainment weapon, a multi-purpose weapon, and then a heavy effect weapon. Take Ash and Wrex out to play to give us a field test. Don't be cheap with the materials, either. Frictionless materials, high-grade synthetic ceramic heatsinks, iridium barrels… whatever gives us more bang for our Cred, do it. I got us allotted a pretty Cred for state-of-the-art equipment and exotic materials for just that, so tinker and craft to your hearts' content. Just run models through a computer first before crafting something."
"I'm not a… what was that Human term again? Newb?" The Turian told her dryly. The Chief just smiled at him and Liara tried to puzzle out what a 'noob' was.
"You're right, Vakarian. I apologize." The Navy Corpsman replied with a bow of her head. "Doctor T'soni? You are going to work with Marshal Collins. We've got several people who have been investigating Saren; movements, locations, purchases, sightings, past missions and the like. While we've gotten some headway in that endeavor, we have found obvious gaps in information, no doubt to his status as a Council Agent, classification, deleted reports, and likely bribery. We think he's been doing something to this effect for quite some time, perhaps even longer than a decade thanks to a report we have when his ship was located in the Far Rim back around the same time Mindoir was happening." Liara did not immediately get the reference to the location, though she had heard of it before somewhere. "Saren has confederates, others working in his steed, and what I want you to do is to aid Marshal Collins in her investigations of them. We think that might fill in some of those gaps, not to mention they could easily be doing things in Saren's name now that he has been deemed a sapient non-gratis.
"Doctor? I want you to investigate your mother."
The Protheantologist felt her breath hitch in her throat.
"Benezia's involvement is mystifying everyone." Sara continued, looking at her. "No one can figure out why an Asari Matriarch with a history of being a Priestess of Athame, an Ambassador to Earth, and one of the negotiators for the cessation of hostilities during the First Contact War in Humanity's favor is now in league with a Turian who is so obviously and blatantly prejudice against Mankind. We don't know how long she might have been working for, under, or alongside Saren. We're not even sure that she is fully compliant; it could be duress. The only solid piece of evidence that we have is that recording recovered by Tali'Zorah and Niki'Raan where Saren is talking to Matriarch T'soni after Eden Prime.
"I want you to do what you do best, Doctor; I want you to dig."
"I… am not an investigator or a Detective, Chief Ryder." The Maiden reminded the Corpsman, her voice meek. Goddess, investigating her mother? She had nothing to do with her mother in over twenty years! Ever since she had finalized her notion into becoming an Archaeologist with the intent to become a Protheantologist while in her fifth year at the University of Serrice. The Lady Matriarch had not been pleased with Liara's decision to follow her own dream instead of her mother's insistence into becoming a Political Arts Major towards Intergalactic Relations. Her mother wanted her to become a diplomat, a politician! The Asarikin had her fill of politics when she was but a Youngling, her mother working amongst diplomats, attaches, elected officials, interest groups, lobbyists, self-inflated egos, and sycophants. Liara knew that politics were necessary, but she wished to have nothing to do with them. The Doctor did not want to admit it in front of 'Doc' Ryder, who was an intelligent, kind, caring example of her species, but Liara thought Human politics the worst of the lot.
"Yes, but you are likely to know and understand Lady Benezia the best." Sara pointed out, and thankfully there was no incriminating tone in her voice. "I don't ask you to investigate her out of meanness, but out of that understanding. You might connect points that we would miss due to personal knowledge. It could be that your mother is forced to act on Saren's behalf, or perhaps she is unaware of his intent."
"You do not believe that." T'soni interjected, pointing out the obvious.
"No, I don't." Ryder nodded immediately, not being deceitful. "But what I believe and what is true are two separate things. Benezia is at least aware that there was an attack on Eden Prime according to the audio file, but she may be under the impression that it could have been a Council-sanctioned mission. Seeing what Saren possesses… it could be that she is a hostage of some kind, and perhaps in league only to spare herself… or someone she loves." Liara tried not to wilt under the gaze of a Turian Detective, a Salarian STG Agent, and a Quarian Pilgrim, all of them looking at her now. "The point is that we don't know, so it's better to look than to assume. Marse Collins has a good deal of information pertaining to your mother, but that's all it is; information. There might be something there that will clue us into to her involvement; the why, the when, and the how. It could be that this information leads to a rescue mission instead of a mis-assumed arrest or confrontation." Liara knew what Sara was doing; coaxing her into cooperation out of a sense of familial love. Having this 'Marse' Collins meant that the Asarikin would have a difficult time concealing any incriminating facts that she might uncover pertaining to her mother. But it also meant that if Liara found anything that recuse her mother out of charges, there would be an impartial investigator at her side to confirm that the Protheantologist did not fabricate any evidence. Like Sara, Liara T'soni was an Alumni of the Presidium Academy of Education, and she saw what Sara intended. If their situations had been reversed, the Doctor would have likely done the same thing.
"I shall." The Maiden finally replied, nodding her crest towards the Human female. "Where can I find this Serah Collins? And… what exactly is a Marshal?"
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard sat at her chair in her quarters, reading a datapad with Council Agent Avitus Rix's SPECTRE-related information on it when there was an electronic knock at her door. Remembering her invite, she gave verbal permission for the door to her cabin to unlock to see Sara Ryder coming in, dressed in civilian attire more appropriate for a club or venue that they had planned for Liberty later on in the Night Cycle.
"SPECTRE 101?" Sara teased her as the Corpsman took to Jannie's bed, lounging on it slightly as the brunette looked at her.
"To think this is just the basic concept." The redhead replied, indicating the datapad. "This was all stuff Nihlus was suppose to teach me and guide me through. Not just show me where the SPECTRE Home Office was, but things like setting up a network of agents, getting intel sources, setting up covers and drop locations, overall rules and views of authorized actions without having to go to the Council for permission under unusual circumstances. Did you know I could legally detonate a building with people inside if I found a Level Three infraction?"
"Do I want to know what a Level Three infraction is?" Ryder's tone was disgusted at the thought of what sounded to be mass murder.
"There's five in total." Shepard replied, setting the datapad down on the desk next to her. "The stories we hear are mostly Level One and Two infractions; personal crimes and atrocities, respectively." It was widely known that if a Council Agent was sent after someone, that an arrest wasn't necessary. The SPECTRE-in-question could (and usually did) kill the person without capture or trial. Judge, jury, and executioner wasn't a byline when it came to Council Agents; it was a reference. "A Level Three infraction is a Treaty or Convention infraction, someone who is violating Council Law, not just some species or judicial law. Creating an AI?" That had Sara go pale. She had informed Jannie what Alec had done in the name of saving Aunt Ellen from Eezo Cancer. Sara now knew that her fathers' life could very well be forfeit. Also her mothers' at the time. Possibly even the twins. "The Council doesn't fuck around, kiddo. They take infractions seriously, and they tell Agents to make a splash to remind everyone else of the repercussions."
"So that it warns the next ten or so not to do the same thing." The younger woman nodded, still looking perturbed. "I know being in the military requires tough decisions, and being a Commissioned Officer even more so. We hold Captains," Sara gestured towards her, "in such high esteem because of the level of damage or destruction you can cause. One shot from the Normandy's main canon on an outpost or colony can cause severe infrastructural damage, and multiple can even lead to environmental damage if you aimed at a volcano or a fault line. I guess that's one of the reasons the Alliance frocked you so quickly with your pause button." That had Jannie snort at the nickname for Captain's bars. "But to unleash a kinetic strike on a building for just one sapient?" That had the Corpsman silent, her blue eyes haunted. "I would call it morally disgusting… but I can actually think of someone where that might be an appropriate response."
"Really?" Shepard had the sense that Ryder wasn't referring to Saren Arterius. "Who?"
"You… don't know him." The younger woman replied, sitting up on the bed, in a position that suggested anxiety. "But in some ways, he's worse than the Bloody Talon. Saren… has a goal. It's probably a mixture of personal vendetta and pursuit, but I bet he can come up with some justification where it's for the good of all. Assholes are like that." That had Jannie snort. Yeah, wasn't that the truth? "Who I'm thinking about? It's all for himself. It isn't a goal or an achievement.
"He plays at being God. Actually doing a pretty good job at it, too."
"Wait, was this that… Red Harvest thing you barely ever mention and clam up about?" Shepard asked, her heart skipping just a little. Sara never told her anything about it, not really. All she knew was that somehow sixteen-year old EMT Ryder somehow got involved with the C-SEC Special Crimes Unit, working with Detective Garrus Vakarian, and went missing for a week and a half. Scottie had been in full-panic mode when his twin sister didn't come one night, their father off doing whatever to save his wife, and had contacted his Aunt Jane when she was missing for a second night in a row. Even Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis of Skybulance-37 had gotten involved. All Scott, Jane, Shayla, and Alixa discovered from an official C-SEC 'fuck you' description was that Emergency Medical Technician Sara Ryder was 'assisting' on a case for the SCU. Ten days later, Sara had returned in the talons of a Turian Sniper, neither one of them say a damn word about the ordeal; where they had gone, what had happened, and why Sara had nightmares for months on end.
Jannie had taken an emergency leave to the Cit with the intent of riping Garrus' spine out and beating him with it until he talked, but Sara had coaxed the redhead out of her fury, telling her that the Rapid Response Sniper had been the one to save her. When she saw the Turian again years later, after Eden Prime and on Saren Arterius' case, Jannie had been conflicted on what to do with the Turian Detective. A part of her wanted to peel his fucking plates off. Another part of her remembered that Sara had been saved by this Detective who had put his own life on the line to save a young Human woman. Twice, actually. Yet another part remembered… no, no need to go into that. Sara had suffered that cataclysm, and it hadn't been Vakarian's fault at all. No one knew, and no one needed to know.
"There… are days that I want to tell you." Sara wasn't even looking at her, staring at a wall, more like staring through it. "But I know what you'd do, Auntie. You'd turn this ship around and hunt that fucker down. As much as that would make me smile… that's the last thing I'd want to see." Her blue eyes were haunted, her voice tinged with sorrow. What the hell happened during those ten days? Sara took a big sigh. "Garrus still looks for him, you know? Finds traces of him here and there. Told me when he can peg a location, he's going to hunt his ass down. For me." Yeah, Jannie could totally believe it. Garrus… as much as she didn't like Turians, Jane Shepard did like and respect Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian. She knew that with Sara, it was more than that. "Nothing would make me happier than to see his corpse and smile." There was venom in that tone, strong enough to curl blood. That sweet, effervescent little girl that Jannie had seen grown up had taken a vacation, and something bitter existed. "Believe me, if we every find the guy and you want to kinetic strike him? I'll push the Goddamn button myself with a smile."
This was unlike Sara. Very much so. This wasn't the young woman who went to the Academy, busted her ass to be an underage EMT, who joined the Navy to be a Hospital Corpsman first, and then busted her ass again to be a Fleet Marine Force Corpsman. This was someone that had a brush with something vile, something evil, and it had shaken her to her very core. Jannie knew all about that; N's went and located assholes throughout Alliance Space, and she herself stopped a good dozen slaver enterprises during the Blitz. Going into a slave pen… there was no way to describe how truly heartbreaking it was to kick in a door and seeing begging, pleading eyes, or the soullessness of those so abused that they would never escape, not on the inside. The redhead remembered this one Asari Maiden that had been made into a sex slave for something like two decades, and finding the Asarikin with the lights on but nobody home. The Maiden had regressed mentally into an almost catatonic state because of the ordeal. For Sara, she had a brush with something beyond the pale and it had changed her into something far colder, something repressed, buried deep inside.
"Kiddo, talk to me." Jannie insisted, getting out of her chair and sitting next to the Corpsman, slipping her arm around Sara. This wasn't the first time she had tried. "It's obviously eating you up. I remember the nightmares you had, how scared Scottie was. If he's someone that pegs the Council's asshole list, then we can make a detour if we locate him."
"Garrus did send to the Office of Special Tactics, four years ago… and he's still alive. That's why I'm afraid of telling you, Auntie. This isn't a guy you want to face at all." The Lion tried to figure out how that was possible. Somehow, this was beyond bullets and armor. Detective Garrus Vakarian was a former Blackwatch Sniper, a Detective of C-SEC Special Crimes, and a Sniper with the RRU. That alone should have been enough. And someone that was on the SPECTRE Hit List for four years and still breathing? Did that mean… he had killed a SPECTRE hunting him down? Sara was absolutely terrified of whatever it was, too afraid to tell her Auntie about it… in fear for Jannie's life.
What the fuck could this guy be?
Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian hoisted his Elanus Risk Control Services M-15 Vindicator, the three-shot assault rifle's weight comfortable in his talons. It had been extensively modified due to his position in both the Citadel Security Services Special Crimes Unit and Rapid Response Unit, able to get his talons on expensive and rarely-produced weapons augmentations such as improved materials for an extended barrel to link with the weapons' software suite for better Mass Effect efficiency to deliver more kinetic force per round without actually having to amp up the power management system… which he did that, too. The heat sink, the bore of the rifle, the counterweights for recoil, the VI… all had been upgraded towards power and efficiency to deliver as many Joules to a target with as little sacrifice to the other systems in the weapon. Garrus knew that a peak performance weapon was all about balance; that adding to one thing would inevitably take away another. It took a master machinist with a proficiency towards calculations and calibrations to turn a weapon into a masterpiece.
With that in mind, he began looking towards the other weapons in the Normandy.
He knew what Chief Sara Ryder had in mind when she had asked him to help improve the weapons. When he was commissioned into the Hierarchy Navy after graduating from the Presidium Academy of Education seventeenth in his Peerage, he had gone in as a Weapons Officer. He spent his first year being trained on everything from pistols to ship-killing cannons, learning how to manage them, calibrate them, improve upon them, and turn them to a point of potent lethality better then when they were brand new. The next two years were filled with him honing himself to not only be more proficient in his profession, but honing himself for the Trials; what one entered to be accepted into the Blackwatch. He had passed with flying colors, becoming a Blackwatch Infantry Support Specialist; a sniper. He had deployed to Shanxi with a heavily-modified Devlon Industries' M-92 Mantis, the sniper rifle carrying him through every mission as he fought against Human colonists and frontiersmen, militia and law enforcement personnel before the coming of Operation: Repensium; the Systems Alliance retaliatory strike and attempt to retake their colony. His proficiency with power and kinetic balance in both weapons and armor had made him… well, not a titan of the battlefield, per se, but his shields lasted longer without sacrificing on long-term power supply while his shots delivered maximum damage without damaging weapons components on an overclocked Mass Effect field generator.
Looking at the M-15, knowing what had been done to it, knowing what he had done to it, Garrus Vakarian went to work.
He started by picking up one of the Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifle that the Human Marines carried, deciding to work from the ground up, so to speak. The Karseus was a Human-version of the Turian-manufactured Cipritine Armory's Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle, being lighter and smaller than the Hierarchy's heavy support weapon. The Sniper ran his talons over the weapon, finding it to be a sort of little sibling to the Phaeston, and that had him think of some of the mods and enhancements he had seen in his time both in the Blackwatch and in C-SEC. With that in mind, he queued up his Special Crimes-issued Cipritine Armory Nordash OmniTool, found a music player app, and linked it with the small bluewire speakers in the armored gorget of his cowl for his Rapid Response Unit-issued Armax Arsenal's Predator H-Series Armor. Finding a playlist titled Awesome Mix Vol. 2 that had been given to him, Garrus played the first song, a slow smile expanding his mandibles as he heard what was described to him as the funk.
"Heeeeeeeeey! Give to me, now!
"Now once I was a boogie singer,
Playin' in a rock-n-roll baaaaaannndd!
I never had no problems,
Burnin' down the one-night stands!
And everything around me, yeah
Got to stop to feelin' so llllooooowwww!
And I decided quickly, (oh, yes I did)
To disco down and check out the show!
Yeah, they was dancin', and singin',
And movin' to the groovin'!
And just when, it hit me,
Someone turned around and shouted…
Play that funky music, white boyyyyy!
Play that funky music, rrrriiiigggghhhhttt!
Play that funky music, white boyyyyy!
Lay down the boogie,
And play that funky music 'til you die!"
The music comforting his ears, Garrus went to work pulling apart the R36 Karseus Battle Rifle, removing the upper cover and disengaging the munitions shaver, taking a pair of micrometer calibers and some precision tools to bore out the shaver to make the systems extract a large gram round per shot, increasing the kinetic force by weight alone. The work was meticulous and precise, needing a well-trained eye and a steady hand to bore out the shaver without making any mistakes. Vakarian took his time turning the shaver into a medium-weight gram extractor, bringing up its capabilities to that of a seven point five gram round. The increase was one that he knew of well with the Phaeston, and the Karseus was the Human version. It took him ten minutes to drill out the extraction portion of the shaver, the song by Wild Cherry ending as it moved to the next song.
"Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga! Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga!
Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga! Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga!
I can't stop this feeeeling,
Deep inside of me!
Girl, don't you realize,
What you do to me?
When you hold me,
In your arms so tight.
You let me know,
Everything's all right!
IIIIIIIaaaiiiiiiaaaiiiii!
I'm hooked on a feeling!
I'm high on believing,
That you're in love with me!"
The bore worked finished, the Detective re-inserted the shaver and pulled out the Mass Effect field generator, looking at the power modulation control on the side of the power pack. He pulled it off in lieu of a new one, having bought several for just this purpose. They had been programmed to deliver a full force upon the round without any excess bleed of power or residual energy left behind, getting as close as one hundred percent power used to drive the round as possible. Most common weapons delivered about ninety percent efficiency, the rest going to waste as excess heat, Garrus knew. Getting that last ten percent was actually an expensive endeavor, but it delivered ten percent more power without increasing heat or power management. The Turian inserted the upgraded Mass Effect field generator power modulation control onto the side of the component, and then looked to the quality of the Eezo pack inside the generator. It was standard Light Eezo, missing an electron that was pretty standard for weapons-grade Element Zero. He pulled out the pack and inserted a Heavy Eezo replacement, a proton-heavy core that was generally manufactured for ship cannons to deliver more force per round. It would change the power management slightly, but with the power modulation having been upgraded, the Karseus wouldn't actually lose any shots before cooldown while being twenty-five percent more powerful per shot in both kinetic impact and penetration.
The Sniper re-inserted the generator back into the weapon, and cocked back the insert bolt, activating the system.
"SAM? Run diagnostic analysis." Garrus asked the AI he had been conversing with from time-to-time ever since Sara had introduced her SciTech Department to the development.
[I note a twenty-five percent increase to force and impact of Joules in the weapons systems, Detective], the male-voiced AI said simply over his OmniTool, keeping the conversation personal. [Analysis suggests that the round extractor will decrease in condition thirty percent faster, and will be more susceptible to jams and friction during extended combat usage]
"Right on target." The Sniper nodded, pleasantly pleased that the Artificial Intelligence was right on the mark. It was a Medical AI, but it had gauge the issue correctly. He extracted the shaver and generator and placed them into the OmniForge on the weapons bench. "Open up fabrications suite and an exploded diagram of the components inside, SAM, and I will talk you through how to remedy that issue." A holographic representation of the components presented itself in front of him, and Garrus Haptically pointed out key locations of what would be altered and modified. "We're going to put a micrometer's worth of Cadium here, one even layer," Vakarian pointed out a plane on the shaver, "while this piece here will be re-fabricated into Titanium-Silicon-32," that was a piece that fed the round from the shaver to the generator, "and then the housing of the generator will get shelled in a Copper-Iridium alloy known as Ubiqum," he typed out the chemical formula quickly. "Run analysis for changed perimeters."
[Analysis suggests a fifteen percent less chance of jamming than original components before alterations] Sam said a few moments later. While his voice inflection didn't change, Vakarian suspected the AI was impressed. [There is also a ten percent decrease in friction. This weapon will now fire seven more shots before cooldown state than before while delivering a quarter more power per shot]
"I haven't lost my touch." Garrus grinned, the effect lost on the AI. Or perhaps not.
[I have an inquiry]
"Ask away, SAM."
[Why are common weapons so… under-performing compared to what you carry, Detective?] The AI asked. [A detailed analysis of your Vindicator over a store-bought one shows that yours outperforms in every category, sometimes in percentages that are quite impressive. Why not make all weapons this way for organics such as yourself? Those who defend the law and organic sapients?]
"Ah, the same question every Boot Camp Recruit asks." The Turian chuckled, nodding his fringed head as he tapped his talons on the work bench as he leaned on it, watching the Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge begin working on the Karseus components in the way he had programmed it to. "That ERCS Vindicator is sold to whomever wishes to purchase it; law-abider and lawbreaker. Would you wish to field a weapon that can defeat common defenses so easily to anyone with the money to purchase it or the capability to steal it?"
[I see your point. It is a question of distribution] The AI replied, sounding… thoughtful. [I have noted many members of the Normandy doing much to alter or modify components and equipment throughout the vessel, both of the vessel and what is inside of it. They speak of ending vital signs faster, of the upcoming actions in which they boast of being victorious. Do all organics feel this way about conflict?]
"Hmm. Yes, but not in the way you suggest." Garrus replied, thinking it over. In some ways, SAM was like a hatchling willing to learn. A very smart hatchling. "Most do not like the thought of ending a life. Yes, this might be different with the Geth, in which most organic sapients may feel that 'killing' does not strictly apply. Yet for most, it is not the act of ending a life in which they think about. Tell me, based upon your observations and interactions, do you like Sara?"
[Technically, she is my sister] The voice replied, but there was a pause. [I do enjoy conversing with her and observing her. She seeks to improve and excel, and she enjoys helping others. I find this emotional diagnostics beneficial and… reciprocal]
"So you do like her. She is a friend." The Detective pointed out. "You would grieve if she came to harm."
[Yes] A simple but powerful answer, there.
"What would you do to prevent that from happening?"
There was a ten second pause in the reply. An eternity, for a synthetic being, Garrus suspected. It wasn't processing power or thought speculation. SAM… had a conscious, perhaps?
[I miss her]
It took a moment for the sniper to realize whom SAM was talking about. A woman he had met only once.
"Ellen."
[Yes] The AI confirmed. [The emotional response she had for her children and her husband was… endearing. I did everything I could to stave off her shutdown] Was this a confession, or the cry of a synthetic soul? Did Sara know? [On her last day, I struggled to keep her lucid so that she could say her final goodbyes to Sara and Scott. She faced her shutdown with what organics call 'courage', fearing it yet keeping a brave face for her children. She told them how proud she was of them, smiled at them instead of crying. She wanted to cry at the time she would lose, but knew that her children needed that brave face. It was… it is a moment I cherish] That was an answer Garrus hadn't expected, and it implied a lot.
"We're much in the same way, in a variety of degrees, SAM." Vakarian replied softly. "We fear death, shutdown. We want to live. For some of us, that fear drives us toward courage, to pick up that armor and that firearm to fight it off not only for our own sakes, but for the sakes of others. Some might boast, some may speak of victories. This is a way to fight that fear, to prevent that shutdown. Some enjoy killing; thankfully, I am not one of those. But we do enjoy the fact that we can stop the inevitable, to thwart fate and death, to prevent the shutdown of others whom we are willing to risk our lives in order to protect. We may say 'kill', but what we really mean to say is 'I'm going to stop you so that many others may live, one death for dozens of lives more worthy'."
[Is there a difference in what you do compared to what I did for Ellen? Or what Sara does as a Corpsman?]
"Only logistically." The Detective admitted truthfully. "Physician such as Karin Chakwas swear upon a duty not to bring harm onto others, no matter who their are or any crimes they might have committed. While I might snarl as such, seeing a murderer healed while a victim dies, it is the moral thing to do. Organics know that they can go a Doctor or Barber-Surgeon regardless of class, rank, or standing in the meritocracy. For ones like Sara, Frontline Barber-Surgeons both heal and kill in the name of unit and species. Sara would protect a comrade, bringing them from harm, or even eliciting to be harmed herself instead of a comrade. She would also stop the threat, whomever the enemy may be at the time. Her training in the medical field means that she can heal wounds, giving an organic a second chance at life. While she cannot perform most surgeries, Sara can spare lives, much better than I ever could. I have some medical training in which I can aid, but it is limited to mostly physical means; stanching wounds, to stop bleeding, or convey a patient to someone better equipped and more knowledgeable than I, such as Ryder or Commander Chakwas. Yet my profession is to end the threat, preferably before a sapient becomes hurt. That line of understanding is a murky one; it is generally morals, ethics, and legality that guide us."
[With so many species, the definition seems chaotic]
"Oh, it is." Garrus replied as the OmniForge continued to work upon the components. "It is never a ready definition, and it can change with time, species, and even situations. Yet that is the power of goodness, in my mind; our strive to do better, to be better. A lawbreaker does not fret over the necessities of procedures and definitions, the legality of a correct arrest or a well-done investigation. Their motivation is selfish, and their justifications personal. I do not kill out of a sense of satisfaction, though I do feel it is a job well done when I kill a criminal. I kill because it saves lives ultimately, as convoluted as that might sound."
[I believe I understand] The AI replied, its tone musing. [It is such as the difference between information and intelligence, knowledge and experience. Having one does not necessarily mean having the other. I have all the information at hand, but that does not mean I can necessarily draw the correct conclusions. Where as you, with less information, may in fact reach the right conclusions due to your experiences and knowledge, where as I would simply seek more data]
"It is a good parallel." The Turian nodded as he picked up the Karseus and removed the upper receiver and barrel. "I train and practice to make myself better so that others don't have to. I will face the threat and put my life in danger to save the lives of others, both friend and stranger. One day, I will fall… and another will likely take my place. Perhaps not as stylish as myself," the smirking mandible was perhaps lost on the AI, "but I don't fear that there are others who feel as I do; that that line will be held and defended, the difference between civility and chaos. Captain Shepard and Chief Ryder make a great pair of examples. We all have our strengths and talents, and we use them to benefit others, even those we do not know."
[The components are finished, Detective]
"Record the changes. We'll be doing it to all the Alliance-oriented weaponry." Vakarian informed the AI as he removed the shaver and the generator from the Forge and inserted the barrel next. "We'll be coating this with a micrometer platinum alloy for better heat management and smoother flight to increase shots and accuracy, SAM."
[Acknowledged, Detective. And thank you for your conversation] The Turian had the sense that the AI had the answer it sought. [She still cares for you]
"I know." Garrus replied, knowing exactly who and what SAM was talking about. He didn't need an AI to tell him. "She… is happy. That is enough for me."
Auntie had set Liberty for the entirety of the ship that evening, announcing their ship-out date as the Fifth unless an emergency came up. Petty Officer Sara Ryder had suggested a ship gathering at one of better clubs at the Cit, suggesting Xotic in the Shalta/Aroch Arm. It was Night Cycle on the Cit, thought the Arms always had the lights on despite the cycle, and only a few crew members stayed with the Frigate-Class vessel as everyone else piled onto a CitTram to take the trek to the Outer Tract of the Shalta/Aroch Arm, in the Shoreside District of the Lower Wards. The idea of a mass gathering at a popular club before shipping out into the black had gone over well, a way to fraternize and let loose a little built-up heat/charge. Over fifty members of the Normandy clambered onto a CitTram that would take them from the Kithoi Enders down the Arm, then around the Presidium Ring, and then up the Shalta/Aroch Arm to the Outer Tract, nearly the Shalta/Aroch Enders itself. For that many people, too many Citadel Public Transportation Vessels would have been too expensive to rent, and the trip by the tram was only over an hour. Sara had chirped a few friends on the Cit where she would be if they wished to visit her before she headed off, and was happy to see that both Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis confirmed that they would be there. Professor Irissa T'vara would be there as well, though the Matriarch said that she would be more interested in 'afterwards', giving Sara time to relax and enjoy her limited time off-duty.
Everyone filed out of the multi-car CitTram as Sara stepped off into the multi-species Shalta/Aroch Arm, where the Asari and Salarians had first landed upon the Citadel when they had discovered it, both naming the location in accordance to their respective species. When First Contact had occurred, Shalta/Aroch had been the first footsteps towards galactic cooperation, keeping both names and colonizing the Arm in a symbol of unity. It show prominently throughout the length of the S/A Arm, being the most diverse section of the Cit save for a few districts upon the Upper Ring of the Presidium, such as the Regency and Embassy Districts. A Salarian business could be found right next to a Turian one or an Elcor one easily in the S/A Arm, and the Outer Tract was more of a 'rough-and-tumble' lower-middle social class of workers and families, the sort of blue-collared sentients who could be found working at the Docks, manufacturing and minifacturing goods, making delivers for CitPS, or wearing C-SEC colors.
Xotic was popular as a multi-species club, offering music and drinks for just about every species in the known galaxy, boasting flavors for thirty-nine Homeworlds, a blended fusion of diversity to everyone's liking, or at least tolerance. Sara had picked it because it was an ultra-modern club that wouldn't even look twice at the sight of Humans, Turians, Salarians, Asari, Quarians, and Krogan coming together, and the atmosphere was one of pleasant enjoyment. It featured seven different dance floors on as many floors, ten separate bars, a bank of Augmented Reality arcade games, a stage for a live performance, and a small herd of Elcor Bull bouncers who could and would throw anybody out if they were up to no good, regardless of species. Sara had dressed appropriately, wearing a Presidium Toshe team jersey, with the number '32' on the back and the name 'Ryder' just above it; her twin brother's jersey, no less. It was a far cry from what she wore in her youth, a mix of Presidium Academy educational robes, a paramilitary-oriented EMT uniform, and the dresses and robes that one living on the Upper Ring were 'encouraged' to wear to stand above lesser mortals. Slumming it felt right as Sara looked over to Auntie, dressed in a black compression tank-top, a push-up bra, low-rider slacks, and eight centimeter heels, obviously going to live it up at a blue-collar club by flaunting it a little. And Sara had gone the homegirl routine, complete with an Armax Arsenal Arena League Human-oriented baseball cap worn backwards.
"Just don't Chirp me to hold your hand in the morning during your walk of shame if you wake up to something regrettable, Auntie." The Corpsman teased her Captain, the redhead making a rude noise as the Normandiers made their chaotic assault towards the Xotic's doors, party-goers interested in a little reverie. "Should I get pictures as evidence? Or did you forget to take off your chastity panties?"
"Go fuck yourself, kiddo." Jannie replied, unperturbed, making the Corpsman laugh. "And just so you know, black lace thong."
"Ah, someone's feeling adventurous!" Sara sing-songed as they approached the door, the music of the club already bleeding into the Cit boulevard as sapients came in from multiple directions. Sara could already hear the electronic pulse beat crawling out the doors.
"Ugh. Dubstep is for pussies." Jannie shook her head as Sara stood her tongue out at her Auntie as the haunting lyrics coming from an Asarikin came to them as the doors opened and holographic darklight streamers enveloped the air above them as they entered Xotic.
"My body's telling me,
Not to go.
Your body's telling me,
Not to show.
Just wait and you will see,
I will come.
Just wait and you will see,
I will run.
I will run,
I will run,
I will run,
I will run…
I feel your sweat on me,
Hold me close.
I feel your sweat on me,
I'm exposed.
Sweet, are we now?
I will go.
Meet, will we now?
I will run.
I will run,
I will run,
I will run,
I will run…"
Sara was already beginning to get into the rhythm of the Asari dubfusion as she bumped her hip into Jannie's indicating the nearest dance floor. The redhead rolled her green eyes as Ryder pulled her towards the floor populated by at least half-a-dozen species, forcing her Auntie to join in. It was a struggle at first to get Shepard out of 'don't wanna' shell until Sara began dancing with her, trying not to laugh as Jannie did some sort of weird, awkward club shuffle (and failing, at that). She rescued her best friend from her own ineptness on the dance floor by spinning around and pressing herself against the taller redhead in an attempt to teach Jannie something considered rhythm and style. It took a moment, but soon Sara had her actually dancing decently with the music.
"You're a girl! How can you not dance?" The brunette teased over the music as Jannie rolled her eyes in response. Sara was dancing in front of her Auntie, crouching slightly while pumping her hips and holding her arms in the air in a grinding fashion while the redhead was stooped as low as she, their bodies practically touching as Jannie mimicked Sara's moves. "You'd think you'd have gotten better at this!"
"Gee, it's the one thing I can't do great!" Shepard retorted, sounding a little miffed.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, most of the guys are staring at us. About half the girls, too."
"My life is now complete." That had Sara cackling as she looked over to where the Normandiers were congregating, and saw something that she should have thought of before.
"I'll be right back." The Corpsman told the Captain as Sara worked her way off the dance floor and towards the ground floor bar, where she saw Marshal Samantha Collins haunting the vendor, pounding shots. Fuck, it had been less than a month since the Wrath of Glory's death, and Nihlus Kryik's widow was at a bar trying to eject her liver with booze. Ryder went to her rescue, pulling the soon-to-be-emptied shotglass away from Sam's mouth, drinking it herself and almost gagging at the taste of what had to be the most vile-tasting s'kak she ever had. "Fuck!" Sara coughed hard, feeling tears exploding in her eyes and her stomach roiling hard enough that she thought she was about to puke on the spot. "What the hell was that, Marse?"
"Ryncol."
Oh… oh fuck, Sam… how long had this been going on?
"No." The former EMT-cum-Navy Corpsman put her food down figuratively and literally as she grabbed Collins' right wrist and pulled her away from the bar, thankfully strong and sober enough to drag the Marshal away. "If you're going to drink yourself into oblivion, you're going to do it with friends." She reached the first table she saw mostly occupied with Normandiers and practically tossed the Butcher into the lap of the first man she noticed… who happened to be Commander Mark Vanderloo, her ex-Uncle. Mark looked a little shocked to have a woman suddenly on his lap from out of nowhere, especially a woman with a Turians' colonial markings tattooed over her face. "She stays with friends, she leaves with friends." She told the Normandy's Executive Officer while Collins just glowered at her. "Move her to something high in sodium, and make sure she passes out face down." Vanderloo took one look at the Marshal, who looked pissed as hell, but Ryder was having none of it as she bent over and got into Sam's face, reaching her hand behind Collins' head and touching foreheads with her; it was the Turian form of friendship and caring, known as 'pressing fringes'. The Petty Officers' blue eyes just stayed on Sam's, knowing the woman got it. "Doc will get you through this, Marse. Kicking and screaming, if necessary."
"Fine." There was no mistaking the aggressiveness in her tone, likely not wishing for some woman younger than she ruling over her. Yet the Marshal of Therum took a deep breath and closed her blue eyes and slipped her own hand behind Sara's head, returning the gesture as she left off an alcohol-tinted sigh. "Gratis tibi." Collins thanked softly in Common Cipritine, untranslated.
"Non forsit." Sara replied in the same language, also untranslated. "See me tomorrow for hangover pills" The Corpsman let Sam Collins go, watching the Marshal slip into a chair beside Mark Vanderloo, looking as if she were going to stay there. The XO gave her a nod, indicating that he would keep an eye on the brunette as he tipped his head towards the dance floor, indicating for her to enjoy herself. Sara smiled as she turned back to enjoy the night, seeing Normandiers throughout Xotic, enjoying themselves. There was Doctor Liara T'soni sitting at a table with a wine glass, evidently holding a conversation with Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams. First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was dancing with Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele in a semi-platonic manner, while Private First Class Louis Broussard danced with Niki'Raan nar Tombay that was a lot more suggestive. Urdnot Wrex hung out by a bar, but he wasn't alone; four Asari Maidens, three Turian females, and a Human woman were absolutely riveted with whatever story he was telling, hanging off his every word. Sara snorted at that, seeing that at least one mid-stage Maiden and the Human woman were practically close enough for mating purposes in the gaggle of females.
Wrex, evidently, was a ladykiller.
Ryder spied Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis actually holding what appeared to be a drinking contest with Detective Garrus Vakarian, and Sara felt a stab in her heart at that. Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was rubbing up on a Human girl around his age, and seemingly hitting it off with her. Not-Dalatrass Zevin Raeka had somehow acquired no less than seven Salarian males to see to whatever needs she had, and the STG Agent didn't look too bothered by the fact. Chief Shayla Talis was at a table with a couple of the Normandy's Bridge Crew, having what looked to be a serious discussion with both Commander Charles Pressley and First Lieutenant Gregory Adams. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was sipping her drink through a purification straw, having some girl talk with both Dravens, Rosamund and Talitha. There was Auntie talking to a guy (!), close enough to suggest perhaps her cabin on the Frigate would be lonely tonight… or have extra company. Sara saw all this and smiled, seeing her crew having a good time. A pair of blue hands went around her waist as the Corpsman felt something gentle and warm hold her from behind as she smiled, knowing who it was.
"You have a good heart, Sara Elaine Ryder." Professor Irissa T'vara said softly to her ear, the Asari Matriarch embracing her as Sara let herself relax against the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies for the University of Serrice, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling. "I fear that there will be dark days coming for you, but for tonight? Tonight I wish to make it about you and you alone."
"How is it you always seem to know the right thing to say?" Sara snuggled closer into Irissa, her hands slipping onto T'vara's, turning her head slightly and resting it on the shoulder behind it, smiling. It felt as if she had hit the ground running since the Assault of Therum, only able to steal bits and pieces of comfort and relaxation if and when she could. Thankfully, she had Irissa, and the Professor was being patient and understanding concerning the situation. Sara was about to ship out, and she had someone to share her remaining time with. "One of the upper levels has a nicer dance floor meant to be more oriented towards couples. I'd like to do that with you."
"As would I, dear one." The Asarikin whispered in her ear, making Sara shiver slightly as she smiled, turning around to hold her meldmate close. She could care less who saw them or their assumptions. "We have so little time together, so let us make the most of it."
"Oh, I intend to." The Human Biotic replied with some sass, making the Asari chuckle in response as Sara held her closer, finding peace in Irissa's arms.
FINE: ARC IV: Center Of The Known Universe
ARC V: A Forest Of Spines
EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 4, 2183
"C-Captain Shepard?"
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stopped at the sound of her name coming from a man's voice, turning to see a Human gentleman in a well-to-do business robe standing near where the SSV Normandy was berthed, his posture nervous and wringing his hands nervously. Everything about the man screamed 'something went wrong!' and 'help me!'. By the make of his robes, it was pretty obvious that he was a Cit Citizen, and knew the rules about the general public just… accosting SPECTREs. Yet she was the first of her kind, the only one of her kind. What use was it to being a SPECTRE if she couldn't bend an ear to help those in need? Yes, she already had a more-than-full plate thanks to that fucking Turian and his pet Geth, but sometimes situations like these added to the picture, not to the problems.
"Yessir?" Jannie stopped walking and moved towards the man, seeing him eye her, a mixture of nervousness and relief evident. Whatever it was, it scared him enough to approach a Council Agent despite the repercussions. Perhaps what he said would be worth it.
"I… I know the rules, but… I can't get any help!" The man began nervously, his skin flush, and Jannie noted the dark circles under his eyes. Whatever the trouble was, it was affecting him mentally enough to show physical signs. "The Navy's barricading our colonies, and I get that. The smaller fleets are sweeping our borders, and I get that, too. All I'm left are with mercs… and this isn't the kind of thing I want getting out in the public or being exploited. I need help, Agent Shepard, and… I need someone I know I can trust."
"Continue, sir. You have my attention." The Lion said simply, keeping her voice causal and light. Her first thought? Slavers.
"My name is Arnold Donald, Agent Shepard. Chief Executive Officer of the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation." That had Jannie pause.
"The Carnival Cruise Line?" Shepard did indeed know who this man was, at least introspectively. The Carnival Cruise Line was the largest leisure travel company of Earth Alliance Space, offering trips on Cruiser-Class-sized vessels geared towards hospitality, travel, leisure, and tourism. One saw their advertisements everywhere in Alliance Space, propos for colonization, space tours, tourist spots, and hops around interstellar vistas. This man was the one in charge of a corporation that held a great deal of sway in Earth Alliance Space. And he was here. Talking to her. Shit, he must have come to the Cit just on the hopes of getting her attention, waiting by the Normandy to guarantee finding her.
Somewhere out in the black, something had undoubtedly went wrong. Very, very wrong.
"It's the Horizon, ma'am. We lost contact a week ago." Mister Donald said, his voice quaking slightly. "My company isn't naive; we know that space can be dangerous. We fill our cruises with some of the wealthiest people in Earth Space, and we allay their concerns of security and protection more than adequately. Many of our staff are former Alliance Navy, our security former Marines and Army, and we make sure that our countermeasures are more than ready to deal with Batarian scum or anyone else seeking a profit from misery." Jannie nodded, knowing the spiel from the commercials she vaguely remember seeing on HV. "We have three forms of communications, Captain; standard ExtraNet Comms Buoy, tight-beam, and our own dedicated Comms Buoy launched in an undisclosed location if someone were to mask, hack, or destroy the Relay Buoy. Mindoir… Mindoir taught us that lesson all too well."
"You don't think it's slavers." Jannie felt her heart drop a little at that. No, not after that pitch. No slaver could attack fast enough to disable communications that quickly, not with a bunch of former Sailors and Marines who knew what to look for, not with that many systems in place. If they had lost contact… it would have to have been extraordinary, in other words.
"No, ma'am." Mister Donald wrangled his hands again, looking… defeated. "The Horizon is our flagship, our top vessel. It was on a trip to the Armstrong Nebula, in the Gagarin System. There is some rogue planet in decaying orbit around a natural one, I… don't recall the name."
"I know of it." Rayingri? Something like that. There were thousands of planets or some other celestial classification in Earth Alliance Space. A planet about to be smashed into another certainly narrowed it down.
"Captain… the Horizon is host to four thousand souls." The older gentleman told her, his tone pleading… desperate. "Many of them are people with families with them on vacation, some of them are important to our government and our way of life. Those people? They are my responsibility; their safety and their safe return." The man took his job personally. "This isn't slavers or pirates looking for ransom. I fear worse."
"Geth." Jannie realized what had the man in a sweat. With the Alliance Navy all but tied to the immediate vicinity of the colonies as if they were the Colonial Air Force, the Geth could strike out at undefended passenger ships and merchants. They could drive Humanity into an enforced isolationism state and cut off their resources and any hope for help, cutting chunks off at a time. But the man was only thinking of the Geth. Jannie had a much different fear.
Husks.
Author's Note: All new original mission. All new original fear. All new original war. Rated 'H' for Horror. Srsly.
Some copyright shit.
Play That Funk Music (White Boy) by Wild Cherry (my go-to in karaoke. Disco brings out the ladies)
Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Suede (thank you, GOTG, for bringing this one back and killing the Ally McBeal baby)
I Will Run by Sometime (The only thing out of Iceland besides Bjork and Icelandic Vodka)
Interspecies Copulation - Yes, the first portion was probably heading towards tastelessness. But Mass Effect tried to make a big deal about the levo/dextro-chiliary thing (as far as I'm aware, this is the only sci-fi anything to bring up a different biological component). In Star Trek, Captain James Tiberius Kirk slept with alien girls left and right… and this was back in the early 60's when interracial relationships were very frowned upon, unlike today in America and most of Western Civilization. ME even invented STD's (Scale Itch) but didn't really address fluid transfer much save for Mordin's Guide To Sex With Aliens.
LSAT - A real weapon lubricant that indeed means 'Lubricant Solvent, Arctic Temperature', and is called 'Monkey Cum'. It is used for the Mk-19 40mm Automatic Grenade Launcher, which non-military folk can see in Fallout: New Vegas (the 25mm AGL's icon is in fact a Mk-19); a Navy weapon for PT boats that the Army adopted for area-denial and MASCAL tactics.
Garrus is a Terraphile? I know I didn't exactly spell it out, but it should be pretty obvious who the Human Female was.
More blatant foreshadowing of the Red Harvest. Because I'm going all out on brutality and viciousness with it as well as the upcoming ARC: A Forest Of Spines.
I quoted the new Deadpool 2 movie. Thanks, Thanos!
Xotic was actually a club I created for 'A Fox Amongst The Wolves', but never got to it. The concept of an actual multi-ethnic area instead of ethnic towns (like one sees in NYC and in most places in America, Chinatown, Little Italy and the like,) was a little fun to try, though I didn't delve hard into it. In my mind, sectors of the Cit would have been 'opened up' to species and endeavors instead of some conglomerated mess. Something kind of like SimCity, where having more residential areas conglomerated raises the possibilities and rates.
Shepard dancing: + 2 Snark
Making Wrex a ladykiller was actually kind of fun. He's only got a couple of centuries of stories to woo ladies with.