MAS S MISCALCULATION


Episode 34- The legendary warlord- Part 2


"Yo, Aaron… Aaron my main man…"

Aaron's eyes snapped open, immediately looking around… then groaning loudly, slapping his palm on his forehead.

He was back here, in this zany cartoon land, a place he had yet to receive an explanation for. And there was Bruce, hovering a few feet away.

Maybe he had finally gone insane, he saw it coming eventually. He assumed this was a bad dream the first time it had happened, but now it was official, the galaxy had made him insane. He was so sure it would have happened a long time ago to, but hey, A for effort, right?

"Nope," Aaron said, walking past Bruce while crossing his arms, repeating, "nope nope nope" like it was a twisted mantra.

"Hey man, you can't just walk out on the Bruce!" the cartoon man cart wheeled up to Aaron, "C'mon man, hear me out!"

"Don't wanna" Aaron childishly stated.

"Man, just hear the Bruce out!"

"No, and you wanna know why?" Aaron asked, turning around, pointing at Bruce, "this is all fake, a dream! I'm not gonna sit here while some cartoon man bosses me around… in my own head!"

And like that, everything stopped, all cartoons freezing. A dark aura appeared around Bruce, and Aaron shrank back, Bruce walking up to Aaron.

He laughed a deep, dark laugh. "You think this is all a dream, huh? A figment of your imagination?" Aaron stepped back, wishing he had a weapon right now. Bruce continued, "You really think that's it?"

Aaron would have responded, but immediately the dark aura went away and Bruce returned to his old self, arm stretching disproportionably and going over Aaron's shoulder, the virtual gangster being pulled into a shoulder-hug.

"'Cause your half right. Let's walk" Bruce had said, the two floating off the ground as they floated onwards.

Aaron looked around as they floated… walked? Floaked? Well, he looked, seeing bits and pieces of his life all around him, playing like a movie… except they were poorly animated and for some reason it was Bruce dressed as Aaron enacting his life instead of Aaron.

"So this isn't the part where you tell me I'm dead and this is my judgment hall or whatever, is it?" 'Cause Aaron had stuff to do still, and if that krogan actually managed to kill him, he'd be pissed.

"Nah, your just unconscious," Bruce said, the news making Aaron sigh in relief. "My job is to tell you what to do next, so here's what you do…"

Two eyes, both veiled in sunglasses, stared intently into each other, Aaron's being focused while Bruce's was more carefree, looking every which-way, but still focusing on Aaron. They leaned in closer, Bruce getting closer to Aaron's ear.

He would have protested when he felt Bruce's lip on his earlobe, but hey, they were in a dream. Aaron was cool with most stuff in dreamscapes.

And then Bruce imparted the knowledge to succeed in Aaron's ear, knowledge that once Aaron heard it he would immediately throw away, because those five words were probably the most general instructions he had ever heard: "Keep calm and don't panic"

Aaron tore himself from Bruce, grumbling, "Fucking. Scholarly" to the cartoon man.

Bruce shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not, man," he pointed downwards, "ya know what isn't scholarly? Letting go of the one thing keeping you in the air"

Aaron looked down, noticing the lack of a floor and nothing but a bottomless, black abyss under him, looking back up at Bruce and screaming as his body plummeted to the depths below, Bruce waving at Aaron's descending form.

He didn't know how long he fell. Days, hours, minutes… about fifteen seconds, though he pegged it at about thirteen. One would think that one would reflect in this time, looking at their life, their accomplishments, mistakes, regrets, victories, a time where one can just… coral their thoughts. It was a peaceful time.

A time ruined when he slammed into the side of a building in the middle of a bustling cartoon city.

"No. No more!" Aaron screamed, seemingly stuck to the side of the building.

Why? Why couldn't he have just woken up right then and there? He couldn't have just fallen to the bottom of the abyss and woken up once he hit rock bottom? That would have been good exposition, right?

No, not that would have been too easy. Law of Averages dictated that his life go through it's up and downs, but if he had known it would go this far down, he would have quit awhile ago.

Aaron looked at his waist, feeling an invisible force grip it. He could barely contain the yelp of surprise when he was thrust into the building, landing in a swivel chair and rolling forwards, grunting when he hit a desk, and looking up groggily. He saw a floating figure in a crisp suit, and when it turned around, he groaned upon realizing it was Bruce.

"So…" Bruce leaned over the desk, and though Aaron wasn't capable of it, he almost felt himself sweating. "You wanna listen to me now and not plunge yourself into an endless abyss? 'Cause that's rude, man"

"Yes!" Aaron begged, clasping his hands in prayer, "I'll listen, I will! Just make the insanity stop!" his tone implied he was getting desperate, the tone of someone that truly wanted the nightmare to end.

"Alright," Bruce floated back, "so as I said the first time we met, I'm the spirit of your sword. Name's Bruce… Lazer" he lowered his sunglasses a bit for dramatic effect, Aaron noticing the hazel eyes underneath the sunglasses.

Aaron nodded slowly. "Right. Spirit of my sword. How'd that happen?"

Bruce chuckled. "Well Aaron my man, as you know, there's more than one universe, and in some universes, people own weapons unique to them that they never let go, in fact they hold onto these weapons so tightly they become a part of them"

Aaron tilted his head. "Like, literally? Like did their hands fuse together with the handle or-"

Bruce slapped him, glaring at Aaron further. "No. Aaron, you don't understand, people like you that never let go of these weapons, they grow dependent on them, right?" Aaron nodded. "In fact, they become so dependent on them using them is second nature, like muscle memory telling you how to move your limbs. It becomes a part of you"

"But I don't have a brain" Aaron retorted. He'd long since forgotten about that particular organ, to be honest, thought that one took longer than the rest. Truth be told he didn't know how he was capable of cognitive thought, but he doubted anyone could answer that question. So, he did what the only thing he could do- go with the flow.

"Doesn't matter," Bruce continued, "it's a metaphor, forget the whole brain thing- look. The point I'm trying to make is that people grow so dependent on these weapons that they're given souls to form bonds with the wielder, to help acclimate, you know what I mean?"

"No"

"Cool, but anyway, sometimes a weapon is incapable of making a soul due to existential reasons ya don't need to know about, so that's where people like me come in. Think of me like a ghost that wanders around looking for something cool to live in"

"So what, you saw me cut apart that reaper when I first got here and was like, 'shit that homie looks pretty trill with that smoking sick sword, I'm gonna get all up in there'?"

"Not really, got assigned by the powers to be," he saw Aaron raise a hand, and slapped it away. "You don't need to know about that, hell, you get around, maybe one day you'll find out. Off topic, they were short on weapon ghosts, so they chose a random person, I.E. me, and chose to actually split me in half. One half got sent here while my other half, Willis, got sent to my original assignment to live in some dude's gun in a different dimension. Forget his name"

Aaron nodded, his understanding coming together slowly. "Alright, cool, so…" he distinctly remembering someone else being here when he arrived in the dreamscape the first time, "what's with the other guy? The mopey one?"

"Adrian?" Aaron nodded. "Yeah, he's the spirit of your other weapon, O.M.G., your omni-gun luckily being able to make it's own soul. Won't lie, he really doesn't like you"

"Why not?"

Bruce laughed, then slapped Aaron, taking a serious tone. "You see, Adrian might be able to tell you better. Come on in"

Aaron expected a door somewhere to open and the moody person to walk through, but sat staunch still as Bruce did a small twirl, and when he made full circle he instantly turned into the pale teen with the trench coat, staring at him with those cold blue eyes, sitting down in a chair Aaron could have sworn wasn't there before.

Was it bad he was getting used to this kind of thing? He felt like he should.

"I just want to make this perfectly clear," Adrian spoke, "what I say is in both of our interests, and after that we will cease this conversation. You will wake up, and ensure our survival"

Aaron's eyebrows raised. "Wow. Cynical, are we?"

"Perhaps Bruce didn't make this clear enough," he leaned in closer, "I don't like you. I abhor you. If it were possible I'd find a way for someone else to wield me, but unfortunately we cannot exist without you"

"Your just a ray of sunshine, huh?"

"You would be depressed as well, if you were in my position," he took a deep breath. "You cannot comprehend what it's like, being used to slaughter the way you do. The endless suffering you encroach upon others"

"Dude, you're a super gun. It's kind of your job"

"It's my job to fire rockets at a street full of innocents because you were 'bored'? To clear out entire sky-highways of cars because they were 'in the way'?"

Aaron sat there, unmoving. In fact, he became more rigid, adopting a more… straight posture. His face looked scrunched up in thought, and, leaning forward, he said, "I had a rough childhood, you know"

"And that justifies it?"

Aaron thought about that. 'Justification', huh? He wondered about that.

He wasn't the best person in the galaxy, he'd readily admit that. In fact he was probably pretty down there with detestable people, mostly due to the fact that he wasn't sparing exactly every person who shot at him.

But that, that Aaron had no problem with. With the conditions he grew up in, the morals surrounding ending other people's lives never really reached him. So yeah. He killed people, and never really concerned about what other people thought.

But then there was the thing Adrian said. 'Innocents'.

He's killed those who weren't hostile. That, he would admit. Not that he did it all his life, but mostly when he had gotten into the Saints. Boss, who grew up with Aaron and therefore had the same views, saw the gang as an opportunity when they had first joined.

"Let's just take it back," Boss, back then not known as 'Boss', had said, "take back what the world took from us"

"And what is that?" Aaron had asked.

"Man, what do you think? Our freedom. We barely got by living on our own, hell, I even went to high school with you just because you thought a primary education would help us in life. I just…" Aaron remembered how Boss had looked at the streets, seeing the pedestrians walk by. He pulled a pistol out and shot one, the body hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

"I just want it back, you know?" Boss had said, "the joy. The time. Our lives, Aaron. You know what I mean?"

Aaron had thought, then nodded, pulling his own pistol out and shooting one of the fleeing pedestrians.

"Yeah," he had agreed, "I know exactly what you mean, bro"

Mercy killing, they had called it. Not mercy for the people they killed, they weren't the 'world is pointless and life is nothing but pain so therefore killing people is saving people from that pain' kind of people, Saints could never care for that type of thinking. No, it was mercy for them. The Saints. People like them who just wanted to take back what the world had taken from them, whether it be time, innocence, joy, whatever the world had taken, every member of the Saints would take it back through murder, and doing lucrative activities to make money in the process.

And it felt good, a long time ago Aaron might have been ashamed to admit it, but that part of him was gone, died off long ago. All the mercy killing, the pure venting of frustration, it felt good.

Though, one night in the Crib Aaron had talked to Boss, who admitted near the time he became president he decided they had taken enough back, and the goal would be to transition from mercy killing to just having fun with life, but usually killing was still part of the equation.

So when Aaron thought about it, yeah, it all went back to his childhood when the world had taken so much from him, fueled his need for mercy killing. So he had his answer.

"It does" he said. Adrian just shook his head.

"You truly are lost, aren't you?" Aaron said nothing, Adrian continuing. "You and Boss, you both truly are the same. No qualms, no conscious, just joy in killing"

"Does Boss have a gun ghost yelling at him in his dreams, too?"

Adrian scoffed. "You're the only one in this universe with weapons worthy of a soul. Frankly, it's probably a good thing," he continued to give Aaron that glowering stare, "I'd rather not entertain the idea of others dealing with people like you"

Aaron leaned back, rolling his eyes. Thinking back, Aaron had to ask about something Adrian had said. "You said 'we'," he said, "what do you mean we?"

"Ah yes, that" Adrian shuddered slightly. "Due to the nature of the O.M.G., it's transformation abilities, it needed more than one mind to work. Like Bruce, we were split, the other being named Max," he tilted his head, then said, "you can talk to him, he'll tell you what you need to do"

And just like that, hair and coat turning white, eyes going red, in Adrian's place was Max, who, upon raising a peace sign, went, "wassup, bitch?"

Aaron sighed. "Look man. My sanity's slipping away the longer I'm here, can you just tell me what I need to know so I can leave?"

"Wow, killjoy. A'ight, fine" he picked up some papers, where he got them Aaron didn't know, leafed through them for about three seconds, then threw them away, saying, "stay calm, helps on the way, don't panic, can't do shit with the collar on, keep cool, you die we die, stay collected, it'll be a'ight"

"I went through all that so you could tell me to do nothing?"

Max shrugged. "I don't make the rules. Bruce is here, he'll see you out"

Doing another twirl, Max was replaced by Bruce, who hovered upside down in front of Aaron, inches away from his face.

"Hey, I'm not gonna have you guys popping out in ghost form, right?"

"Nah," Bruce shook his head, "we only exist in this dreamscape. Fact is, this might be the last time we talk. Emphasis on 'might'. Saying we'll never talk again could very well be wrong"

He clapped his hands. "Okay, now that you know what to do-"

"No I don't!"

"- And this dream sequence is taking too much time, so you gotta go, know what I mean?" he snapped his fingers, the sword for that which he was named after appearing in his hands. "Remember, calm, cool, collected, alright?"

He didn't let Aaron answer, and proceeded to plunge the sword into Aaron's chest, Aaron's world going dark as he saw Bruce waving at him.


Aaron gasped, spitting water out of his mouth, seeing a krogan standing in front of him holding a bucket of water. Taking his surrounding, he saw he was in a rustic cell of some sort, the only light in the room coming from the open door behind the krogan with the bucket, a krogan Aaron had decided to call Bucket.

When trying to move his limbs, Aaron found that all four were chained to pieces of rebar sticking out of a concrete slab, his body pressed to said slab while the slab was tied to the wall.

And of course, he still had that damn collar on. "Of course they would leave it on," he thought, "why the hell would they take it off?"

Hearing large, stomping footsteps, Aaron couldn't keep his sunglass-covered glare off the form of what he assumed was the form of the krogan that had put him here, trying to break free of his chains. Alas, now restricted to human strength, he could do nothing but struggle in the chains.

"Hm?" Buckets turned around, his form growing more rigid when he saw who it was. "O-oh, I didn't see-"

"Leave us" the large krogan rumbled, Buckets running out the room, leaving the door opened for light. The krogan lumbered up to Aaron's restrained form, stopping two feet from him, giving Aaron a first look at the krogan, while both retained to staring at each-other.

"'Sup" Aaron started.


Buckets didn't really know what to make of the situation at hand. When he and his hunting partner, Dren, had first found the two, first instinct that any krogan would had had would have been to shoot both of them. Possibly eat the corpses later, though with all the Saints Flow cans they had found around the area, that would have been debatable. No-one knew what were in those things, but Buckets knew for a fact that at least five krogan on the planet had died from double-heart disease. Double, as in it damaged both hearts. Sure, from what he heard the five were compulsive drinkers of the stuff, practically addicts, but still. Buckets body was a temple, and you could quote him on that.

So instead, they had just taken them prisoner with the permission of their warlord, and had taken them both to cells, and, not knowing their names, had dubbed the one with the weird, white baggy hat 'Hatty' while the one with the eye makeup and black fingernail polish was named 'Gothy'.

Gothy was just spouting gibberish, pacing nervously in a circle, though being a krogan prisoner had that effect. No, it was Hatty that had him concerned…

"Is he still… you know?" Dren asked, walking up behind his partner.

"Yeah, he is" Buckets confirmed, looking at Hatty. Once they put him in the cell all he had done was curl up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth while muttering one word, over and over again…

"Flow… Flow… Flow… Flow? Flow Flow. Flow…? FLOW! Flow Flow…"

"I'm not even sure he realizes that the door to his cell is unlocked" Dren said, shaking his head slowly.

"He doesn't," Buckets confirmed, "I'm pretty sure he's talking about that drink"

"Damn," Dren whispered, "I knew that stuff did things to you, but damn…"

Buckets could only nod in agreement. This was the exact reason why they didn't want to eat them.

They heard footsteps behind them and saw another krogan walking between them, drinking a can of Saints Flow.

Buckets' and Dren's eye's immediately widened, both shouting in unison, "Gelsh! What are you doing!?"

Gelsh stopped, eyeing the two mid-sip, can halfway to his mouth, and, unmoving, answered, "um… taking a drink" he saw they were still staring. "I was thirsty and there were some intact cans at the wreckage" he elaborated.

"You crazy!?" Gresh shrugged. "Look at that human in there, look at him!" Buckets pointed.

Gresh looked into the cage, Hatty continuing to rock back and forth, the krogan not noticing that his nose had started to twitch.

Gresh shrugged. "Looks fine to me" he said. Most krogan prisoners did that when realizing their fate in this position was to be slave labor or entertainment for varren fights, though nine times outta ten it was food.

"No, he isn't," Dren clasped his hand on Gresh's shoulder, pushing him closer to the cage, Hatty freezing and staring straight at Gresh. "Look at him. Those cold, feral eyes. The dark circles under 'em. The shaky hands. The admittedly lean and muscular build despite the softness around the pectoral areas, they all point to one thing"

"A fitness nut who doesn't get enough sleep and eats too much sugar?" Gresh guessed.

"No!" Dren yelled. "He's a addict!"

Gresh looked closer. "Yeah, I'm not seeing-"

Whatever Gresh was going to say was cut off when both of Hatty's arms shot out from behind the bars of the cell door, grabbing Gresh's brow plate and slamming it into the bars.

Buckets and Dren could only watch in shock as Gresh screaming as his head was bashed against the bars again and again, krogan blood dribbling down the bars as Gresh's screams started to get lower and lower, meanwhile that madman continued to yell that one word:

"FLOW! FLOW! FLOW! FLOW FLOW FLOW FLOW!"

So it can only be expected that the two krogan ran away once they saw the cell door open, Hatty crawling towards Gresh's twitching body.


He was dead. Thank the Flow he was dead.

Oh, how long Pierce had waited. Waited for the Nirvana that the purple ambrosia brought him, the glorious purple liquid pouring into his mouth once he had snatched up the can.

Was he Pierce anymore? He couldn't tell, but the Flow could. The Flow knew all.

The can was almost out, though… but the one, the one who was drinking it…

The Flow told him, told him that the Flow was in his blood, the sugary whispers telling him to indulge, and thus he did; ripping apart as much of the krogan's throat as he could to drink the blood spurting out, hoping to drink as much Flow in his system as possible.

Yes… yes the whispers were right, there were traces of the sacred nectar in the blood, but not enough. Not enough to satiate his lust for the Flow.

But he knew, oh he knew where to get more, but! The whispers, they say that he can't be caught, otherwise he'd be shot, denied his purple prize.

But the answer was simple. When spilled on skin, dried Saints Flow was sticky. Tape is sticky. Tape is an adhesive. Stickiness equals adhesive, therefore Saints Flow can also be an adhesive.

Following this divine knowledge, Pierce dumped what was left of the Saints Flow onto his hands and feet, blowing on them to dry. Once this was accomplished, he grasped the walls, clinging, and crawled up to the ceiling, scampering away upside-down.

He needed more Flow. And he knew exactly where to find more.


If Matt were to be completely honest with himself, this was probably the worst day of his life.

He was dead. That was it. He was dead, dead! He was in the one place in the galaxy where he never wanted to end up, and that was some rustic, drab cell in the middle of a krogan camp!

And when he meant drab and rustic, oh how he meant it. The krogan didn't even care about décor, as long as structures didn't crash down on top of their heads. Honestly, he had never seen a base more gaudy in his entire life…

And if that hadn't made matters any worse he just saw Pierce savagely kill a krogan and then watched him drink the body like some drink-crazed vampire, purple liquid drizzling down his chin as he crawled on the ceiling and scampered away like something possessed.

Maybe this wouldn't have happened if those bloody fools hadn't left his door unlocked, what kind of idiots… would…

Wait…

Pacing up to his cell door, Matt very gingerly pushed it, not knowing whether to be relieved or disappointed in the fact the door actually swung open, but hey, at least he was free now.

Stepping out of the cell in a crouch, he thought to himself, "right then, out and about, now… okay, if I'm to refer to NyteBlade season two episode sixteen, when NyteBlade was trapped by the order, he managed to call upon his allies by sneaking his way to some communication center like the hero he was! Alright Matty, you can do this! All you need to do is take one of your swords and…" he froze, realizing he didn't have any swords.

"Dear god, I'm doomed…"


The krogan didn't say anything, instead choosing to step up into the light, allowing Aaron to see his face more clearly.

He was aged, that was for sure if the scars and cracked scales were anything to go by, taller as well, at least over a foot taller than the average krogan. His hide was a dark brown, almost black, a color which was shadowed by black battlemaster armor, staring at Aaron with two dark, crimson eyes that almost glowed if Aaron looked at them at a right angle.

Usually Aaron would say he looked cool, but considering the position he was in, he was inclined to keep his mouth shut on that matter.

The krogan began circling Aaron, walking a slow, steady pace, while mumbling in a deep voice, "yes… oh how I've waited for this"

"This isn't the part where your gonna say your going to kill me for some awful thing I've done in the past or something, right? 'Cause there's like thousands of people in line for that already"

To his surprise, the old krogan chuckled. "Heh heh, no. Nothing like that. Tell me, when you gaze upon me visage, what do you see?"

"A man in need of some moisturizer?"

"I'll assume you mean my aged face. I'm aged, Aaron. Hundreds of years old, all that time dedicated to the art of battle, building my clan, becoming one of the very figures they whisper of in camps," Aaron couldn't keep from rolling his eyes when the krogan thrust his fist up into the air for emphasis. "I've wandered the surface of this war-torn planet, and have held this clan for one hundred and one years, and what do I have to show for it?"

"Grizzled good looks?"

The krogan ignored him. "A daughter. A single daughter. A krogan of my age should have fathered many more children than that, but alas, as you know, the genophage. I digress"

And in a flash, the krogan used biotics to instantly appear in front of Aaron, gripping his face and looking at him directly into the lenses of the sunglasses.

"Perhaps you may think this is strange, but I love my daughter. I would do anything for her, and so when she had asked me for a suitable mate, I began on a journey, a quest to find someone worthy of being the mate of my daughter…" he let go, turning around and shaking his head. "Alas, I found none. Not a single opponent I faced stood alive after facing me, not one. Even the legendary Wulfgar," Aaron groaned in displeasure at that, "could not meet my expectations"

So apparently the krogan he was to give the guns to was dead. Not a new one for Aaron, but still, annoying.

The krogan turned around. "But then, it came to me, while gazing at the stars. My search had been too localized, you see, I needed someone that not a single person in the galaxy had ever beaten, despite their continued transgressions against everything it stood for, a man who had killed countless, never falling no matter the enemy, a man who mocked and wronged the krogan so much and still walked away despite every krogan wanting to kill him, a man who truly knows what it meant to uphold the name of battle!" he extended a finger, and as it lowered Aaron had to keep from groaning to himself when he realized the krogan was pointing at him. "I needed you, Aaron"

"… Um… uh…" Aaron stuttered, making sure he heard correctly. "You want me, to be your daughter's husband?"

"Essentially? Yes"

"Hell no," Aaron snapped, starting to struggle in his chains. "First off, I'm not really a fan of arranged marriages! Plus I can't even give her kids, we ain't the same species, hell, I'm not even organic! Plus I'ma die a virgin, know why? I can't take my pants off because they're part of my body on account of me being made of techno-magical pixels!"

It was one of the many things he had to come to terms with, once he was introduced to his new life as the virtual gangster, and he would be first to admit that it was a hard adjustment. No more breathing and eating, well fine, at least he'd save time by not having to go to the bathroom anymore. No more organs? Great, 'cause that means no more vital areas for someone to kill him with.

No more dick or sexual pleasure? Yeah, that one kind of sucked, but oh well. Weird thing was he still had a small bulge there if you looked really closely, but it was purely for aesthetic reason to make him look more realistic. There wasn't anything under there, he had looked. Thoroughly.

But the krogan seemed to wave a hand at that. "It's mostly in spirit, genophage made me give up my chances for continuing my bloodline long ago, Aaron. I was lucky with a daughter," his eyes narrowed. "But this is not a matter for discussion. You will be her mate"

"Lemme try again, sure, I'll do it"

The aged krogan clapped his hands together. "Perfect! Now, we-"

"Nah nah nah, wait, wait," Aaron interrupted, "I didn't mean it, I was hoping reverse psychology would work" he noted the krogan's eyes narrowing again, and added, "it didn't work"

The krogan didn't seem amused by Aaron's antics, and proceeded to stomp up to Aaron, grabbing his neck and punching Aaron across his face with the other hand, and head-butted him, keeping the krogan's brow plate against Aaron's forehead as he growled.

"Listen here, you petulant shit," the krogan rumbled, "I have been waiting ages to find a mate for my daughter, a worthy mate to not only fit her, but be s symbol of my accomplishments, my greatness"

"And I'm the only one that fit's the bill, I get it" Aaron replied.

"And I'm the only one who can take that collar off you" the krogan smirked, stepping back a couple of steps and crossing his arms.

And that was another point to raise, the damn limiting collar. "Yeah, and where exactly did you get this thing anyway?"

The krogan shrugged. "Well, personally, I believe those reaper conspiracy theories, unlike those idiots on the Council. So, you pay off enough salvagers, pay some visits to the black markets, hire the right engineers, eventually you get a collar that can limit you power"

Aaron stared. "Like, I'm not gonna lie, I believe that, but at the same time I feel like that's not as good a answer as I would have liked. Kind of anti-climatic reveal, to be honest. Kind of lazy, really"

The krogan huffed, turning around and heading for the door. "Like it or not, it's the situation you are in, whether you like it or not. I don't care if I have to keep you there for a century, you will marry her"

And as he stood at the door, about to close it, Aaron had one final question. "Hey!" he shouted, the krogan glancing back. "What's your name?"

The krogan hesitated for a moment, then replied with a chilling tone, "Kaiver"

And then he closed the door, plunging Aaron into darkness once again.


They say the pen is mightier than the sword. Well Matt didn't have a sword, so he had to go with the pen.

… He didn't have one of those, either, but somehow he still managed to get to the communications center of the camp. Luckily they had forgotten to take away his omni-tool, so a few neural shocks on some guards to get to where he is.

So, some hacking magic, good luck and happy thoughts later, and he had patched a direct line to Boss's omni-tool, now all he had to do was-

"Hey, what's going on? Why is this door locked!?" someone, likely a krogan, shouted from the other side of the door Matt had locked.

"Oh no…!" Matt gasped, still waiting for Boss to pick up on the call.

Matt heard more banging on the door. "What's going on?" another krogan asked.

"Someone's locked themselves in the communications room, sounds like a girl!" Matt sputtered at that one.

"Hang on, we'll cut it down" as soon as one of the guards said this, light began to bleed from the door, a molten line going down the side of the door as they began to slowly cut their way in.

Whining, Matt looked at the screen, hurrying that his final hope would have the common sense to pick up the phone.


Boss wondered what he should do. Currently, he was in the Penthouse, waiting for Aaron and Pierce to get back so they could hang with Gat for a night out.

They'd been working hard recently, so he'd thought they needed a break. And plus he just wanted somewhere to go, he hadn't been off the planet in forever… admittedly the term 'forever' to the Boss was about a week, but still. Week was a damn long time.

He glanced over to his wrist when he heard the 'tool chime. "Great, probably someone important trying to yell at me again, I thought Viola was filtering those calls…" he muttered.

He activated the omni-tool and clicked 'accept', his eyes widening in confusion when he saw a panicked looking Matt on screen.

The reason he was confused was because Matt was supposed to be delivering guns, not making calls. Nerve of that man, making social calls on the job…

And Viola was supposed to be filtering Matt's calls, too.

"Matt, what the hell, your supposed to be-"

"Boss, the deal is busted, the krogan we were supposed to make the deal with is dead, HELP!" Matt screamed for the other end.

Oh. Apparently this wasn't a social call. "Matt," Boss said calmly, "slow down, and tell me what happened"

"They shot the ship down, Boss, they killed Wulfgar and took the guns!"

"Well damn"

"'Damn' doesn't even get to describe it, Boss, the-they somehow got Aaron and are keeping him in a cell somewhere!"

"What!? I will fucking destroy them now!" Boss screamed.

"They put me in a cell, and Pierce has gone crazy from withdrawl, he was crawling on the ceiling like a man possessed! We're still here on Tuchanka, you need to-" there was a distant explosion, Matt turning around and squealing, panic filling his face. "They're here, you need to-"

"There she is, grab her!"

Matt screamed. "Boss, hurry! You're my only hope and me alone!" a fist shot out, punching Matt in the jaw and flooring him, Boss staring as he was dog piled by krogan before the video feed cut out.

If Boss were to estimate, he'd say he stood there for about five minutes before going into the kitchen, finding a can of Flow, and grasping it. Closing the door slowly, he popped the top on the can, and slowly proceeded to drink the entire can in one gulp.

Finishing with a sigh, he crushed the can in his hand, tossing it in a waste bucket, and set his hands on the counter. After thinking for three whole seconds he slammed his fist down, cracking the surface of the counter and yelling at the top of his lungs, "SAINTS! GET IN HERE!"


To say Boss was mad would be an understatement. He was furious, no, livid at what he had heard from Matt.

First off the list was the botched gun deal, that meant two things. Number one he would have to explain to Wrex why Wulfgar was dead and if he didn't do it fast enough it would weaken the clans' ties with the Saints and offset Wrex's plan of unification between the krogan, not the mention the cost revenue with the weapons deal.

Problem number two was that whoever had the bright idea of fucking his day up happened to be intelligent enough to actually grab the guns for themselves. On the bright side after the fighting they might be able to reacquire the guns and maybe make a trade with Wrex to salvage the deal and make up for an important clan being wiped out, but he doubted that happening. And of course those guns would be used against the Saints when they went to rescue their friends. With zin technology they were the most powerful ME guns in the galaxy, after all.

"And Gat wonders why I bother making those friggin' pellet guns instead of just flooding the market with laser guns," Boss thought bitterly, "it's in case shit like this happens"

But all that added together wasn't why Boss was so infuriated, oh no. It's because those krogan had his best friend-practically-brother, his third best friend, and Matt. And even abandoning those titles, they were Saints.

This, to Boss, was crossing the line. One didn't simply pull shit like this around him and live to tell about it, and he had witnesses to detest to that.

So, he looked at the gathered audience in front of him. Gat, Tag, Randall, Shaundie, Oleg, Angel, Kinzie, and Grunt.

Some would call it overkill, but to be honest Boss had to restrain himself from blowing up the entire planet once this was over with. He wasn't in the mood for playing it safe.

"Alright homies, here's the deal," Boss began, "as you all know I sent Aaron, Pierce, and Matt on a gun run a few days ago. It didn't go so well?"

"Aaron finally snap and blow the ship up?" Shaundie guessed. "Called it"

Boss shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that, they got jacked by some krogans. We gotta go get 'em back"

Gat raised a hand, Boss allowing him to speak by uttering a "yo".

"So, they got Matt, Pierce, and Aaron locked up?"

"Yes, and before you ask, I don't know what the deal is. Aaron's locked up somewhere, Matt's probably gonna be fed to some varren, and as far as I can tell they're making Pierce dance in a hanging stripper cage while supplying him with cans of Saints Flow as sustenance" everyone gasped at this. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up, but we're gonna go get them back!"

"But how?" Oleg asked.

Boss smiled, holding up two zin rifles. "With guns!" he cried, everyone cheering at the announcement.

Gat looked at Grunt, who had a big grin on his face. "You okay, big guy? Smile's kind of creepy"

His smile grew bigger. "Just excited. A chance to do battle with my own kind? I can't wait"

Gat looked down. Damn, how long had he been working to get the 'warrior talk' out of Grunt? If Grunt was looking up to Gat like this he needed to speak the language.

"We talked about the way you talk, Grunt" he reminded.

Grunt coughed. "Right, uh… word" he nodded.

Gat rubbed his forehead. "Good enough"

And like that, it was settled, with everyone loaded up onto the Fleur De Lis, they took off, intent on rescuing their homies from the scaly clutches of the krogan. The really, dehydrated, rough clutches.

Boss always thought they should invest in moisturizer for krogan.


A day after Kaiver's little meeting, Aaron stirred from sleeping in total darkness when the door opened, shedding light into Aaron's shielded eyes.

Thank god another perk of virtualization was that he couldn't be blinded by light. There was a plus!

When the door opened fully, he saw that a female krogan was standing on the other side, one that had a similar hide complexion to Kaiver's.

So, naturally, Aaron immediately guessed this was his daughter, and voiced his question by asking, "you the broad the crusty old dude wants me to marry?"

She nods. "Alright, cool. You know I refuse, right?" he questioned. She nods again. "So… why are you here?"

"Just to talk" she answered in a rough voice, stepping into the room and sitting down, cross-legged. "It's okay if we talk, right?" she asked.

"Suuure, not like your dad kidnapped me or anything. Totally okay about that" Aaron drawled, looking down harshly at her. "You know that when I get out of here his crusty ass is grass, right?"

The woman instantly winced, Aaron rolling his head. Really, did she think that once he got out here was just going to let the old man live?

No, he couldn't possibly do that, and for two reasons; he had killed men for doing less, he had a reputation to upkeep after all. The other reason being what Boss would do if he found out he left Kaiver alive, and how badly the krogan population would suffer because of it.

It'd suffer pretty bad now that Aaron thought about it.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," the female began, "look, I'll be frank. I don't want this to happen, either"

"Then why the hell am I still chained up here!?"

"It's because of my father, okay!?" she shot up off the ground, pacing the room. "He just- he never listens to me! He keeps saying he just wants the best for me, but he's too blinded by upholding his worthiness to realize the best thing to do is to leave me alone!"

Aaron nodded slowly. "Okay, so, uh… can I go now?"

"But, he's still my father," she continued, ignoring Aaron, "and, well… I just don't want to see him die. I know who you are, what your capable of, I just wanted to ask you, if and when you get out…" she looked deep into his sunglasses, "if you could spare him?"

When that reached his ears, he sighed loudly. Was she serious, that outright defied the two points he made earlier!

But, he looked at those crimson eyes of hers. She seemed to be sincere, begging even. The eyes of someone who really wanted the one they love to live, he noted.

"Look," he began, "you seem like a person who doesn't want to see a person they know die. I wanna help you, I really do, but your not helping me by-"

There was a sudden rumble, alarms blaring and multiple krogan rushing past the room, armed and ready for a fight. All the while Aaron looked down, thinking, "too late… sorry, lady"

"Who's that?" she demanded, posture growing rigid and now staring at Aaron.

He chuckled. "Lady, that noise was someone else your going to have to convince not to kill your old man, 'cause knowing Boss, he ain't gonna stop killing until he gets to me, Pierce and Matt"


Biotic missiles rained down on the camp, Randall in his power armor slamming down in the middle of the camp, krogan surrounding him.

Before one could get a word out, they heard a whistling noise, and, looking up, the krogan guards started yelling and diving out of the way as the giant, transformed state of Tag touched down, letting Grunt and Gat off.

Boss had questioned why Gat didn't want to go in his power armor, Gat's answer being Grunt was good enough without it, and if he was to be a good role model and keep up his 'badass' status, he'd do the same thing. He even took it up a notch by only bringing his knives, something Grunt laughed at and encouraged.

Currently the entire krogan camp was under attack by the Saints, Boss saying to scatter and hit everyone on all sides while looking for their lost friends, and this corner over here was their's.

Randall jumped away to cause more mayhem on the other side of the camp while Gat yelled, "alright big guy, you know the drill! Hit 'em in the face!"

Tag gave out a feral grin, rushing forward and punching on of the krogan in the face, making a notable crater in his helmet and having him fly towards a building, his body being indented in it.

Gat chuckled, turning around. "Ha ha ha! Hey Grunt, man, please tell me you saw-"

There was a strangled grunt from Grunt behind Gat, the badass whipping around, his eyes narrowing behind his rectangular sunglasses when he saw a large krogan lifting Grunt by the throat.

"Well, this is rather annoying" Kaiver rumbled, strangling Grunt into unconsciousness and tossing his body aside.

Readying his knives, Gat sprinted at Kaiver, thrusting his knives forwards. Kaiver lazily sidestepped the knives, but his eyes widened a bit when the knives actually scratched his armor. Seeing this, he grabbed forwards, trying to grasp Gat's head, Gat ducking and stabbing one of the knives right through Kaiver's hand.

The old krogan stepped back, grimacing as he ripped the knife out of his hand, tossing the weapon aside as the hole in his hand sealed shut due to the healing.

Rushing forward again, Gat stabbed the final knife rapidly, Kaiver having a difficult time dodging all the strikes, some hitting him before he growled and grabbed Gat's wrist, pulling him forwards and smashing his brow plate into his forehead, dazing him. And then he did it again.

And again.

And again.

After the tenth headbutt blood was running down a dazed Gat's head, Kaiver forcing the knife from Gat's hand and stabbing it into his left shoulder.

Hissing in pain, Gat tried to punch Kaiver in the face, Kaiver responding by grasping his wrist, twisting quickly and snapping it, tossing Gat to the side as he walked forwards slowly, intent on dealing with the next Saint.

At least, that was the plan until he heard a series of cracks behind him, turning around to see Gat resetting his wrist, knives back in hand, his stance telling Kaiver that he was read to go again.

"Hmph. You just don't give up, do you?" the old krogan asked, glowing blue as he charged forwards.


"Look, lady, you want your dad to live? You gotta untie me right now so I can get out there and convince my friends to stop!"

The woman looked worried. "I don't think I can do that, father went to all this trouble-"

"You want me to help?" Aaron interrupted. She nodded profusely. "Then take the damn chains and collar off"

She sighed, deeply. "Fine, just… stay still"

"Yeah, 'cause it's not like that's the only thing I've been doing for over a day"


Tag was having a great time with Oleg, tearing through krogan with their bare hands. Time's like these he barely ever got to cut loose, but hey, if Boss gave the okay, he was all for it.

Usually when he had to do miscellaneous jobs around Illium he had to stay in his normal form, even use guns, but here, where he didn't have to worry about collateral damage… it was nice.

At least it was nice until Gat's bloody form was smashed through a wall, right into his back, Kaiver stepping through the hole.

Oleg immediately rushed him, but was instantly lifted and thrown away, as if he was nothing. "You people are very annoying," Kaiver said, Tag's own biotics glowing. "If you think your going to get him back, your mistaken. He's mine and mine alo-"

He was cut off when a purple laser slammed into his shoulder, singing it.

Hearing footsteps, Kaiver looked over his wounded shoulder to see Boss in his power suit walk over to the two. Kaiver noticed the sounds of gunfire dying out in the distance.

"Tag," Boss began, "go get Oleg and finish cleaning this place up. I'll deal with him"

Tag jumped away in understanding while the remaining two circled each-other, Kaiver without weapons while Boss holstered his guns and released his purple laser sword.

"So. You're the dick that took Aaron," Boss noted, eyeing Kaiver behind his helmet. "Gotta say, man. Not cool at all"

"And you're the Saints' Boss I assume?" Kaiver guessed.

"Damn straight. Boss of the Saints, Emperor of the zin, president of Illium," he counted off his fingers one by one, "and the guy that's gonna stomp your head in"

Kaiver rumbled a deep chuckle. "Vagabond like you, making such big claims. I've killed a lot like you, you know"

"Puckish rogue!" Boss yelled, sprinting forward and slashing downwards. Kaiver dodged, throwing Boss out of the wall while Boss telekinetically tossed Kaiver out of the other wall. They jumped up to the ceiling of the small building, Kaiver throwing a warp while Boss threw a respective fireball, the two meeting between the pair and blowing up.

Kaiver grimaced, then eyes widened as he turned around, too late to see a blue object crash right next to him, a wave of force causing him to tumble off of the building back onto the ground.

Boss tilted his head when he saw the figure raise, then smiled when he saw it was Aaron, weapons in hand as he smirked at Boss.

"'Sup man," Aaron waved, "so, uh, yeah. Messed up the gun run, sorry"

Boss waved a hand. "S'fine. You lose cool guy points for getting captured, though. That shit's inexcusable"

"To be fair, he had a super collar, man"

"Too bad, hey, can we kill this guy?" Boss pointed to Kaiver as he got off the ground.

Aaron barked a laugh off, readying his sword and gun. "After what he did? Hell yeah I'm ready"

Kaiver barely let out a breath as he dodged Aaron's strike when he touched down, having to dodge repeatedly due to his speed.

The thing was, the krogan noticed, was that the two had a different level of skill with swords. While Boss barely knew how to handle one, Aaron was thrusting and slashing the Lazer Razor at him like a master, forcing him to actually dodge, as useless as it was, he noticed, as more orange burn marks appeared on his armor.

He grinned. He made the right choice after all. All that was left was to kill the rest of these Saints, then punish his daughter later. Aaron couldn't have gotten out on his own, after all.

Boss joined in the fight, and now Kaiver was on edge. As powerful as his biotics were, it was hard to keep up with both of them, the two throwing powers left and right to counter any biotic he threw while they wore him down.

Then another laser shot hit him in the back, and he turned around to see more Saints in power armor aiming their weapons at them.

His hearts sunk immediately when he saw this. He was barely keeping up with those two, but with more Saints- and in power armor no less…

Nope. He was done. Finished. He couldn't win this one.

"Your done, son" Boss mocked, snapping his fingers and letting his Saints open fire at Kaiver. He flipped up a biotic barrier at the last second as a last-ditch effort to shield him from the lasers, but the barrier could do nothing as Boss and Aaron dashed forward, impaling both of their blades into Kaiver's abdomen.

Blood poured from his mouth as he looked down at the two glowing points protruding from his body as they left him, only to enter him again and again until Boss turned the body around, aiming a zin pistol and shot him right in the eye.

The remaining eye rolled into the back of Kaiver's head as Boss poked him in the browplate, Kaiver falling down, not moving.

Boss let out a breath of relief, holstering his gun. Finally, it was over as he looked over the camp, all the other krogan dead at the hand of the Saints. Now all that left was to go get Matt and Pierce and they could-

"FATHER!" a voice yelled, Boss whipping around in time to see a female krogan running at him, a look of rage in her eyes.

Those eyes turned from rage to one of shock and pain when Aaron instantly appeared right in front of her, slamming the barrel of a formed shotgun right into her torso and firing, watching her body hit the floor.

She coughed up blood and, he noticed, fixed him with a glare of hate. "Why?" she croaked. "Y-you promised you would save him…"

"Didn't promise anything, lady" Aaron answered, blasting her in a face with his shotgun, watching her body twitch until it fell still.

He wondered why he did it. He wasn't one to go back on his word, but this was a special case. After what they did… no, he couldn't forgive that. Chaining him to a slap like that, restraining his power… no, he couldn't forgive that at all.

The world needed some mercy killing sometimes, after all.


The cell opened, Matt looking up to see Boss standing at the door, Aaron and some of the other Saints behind him.

Thank god, they were here. He knew they would come, after all. He was much too valuable to lose.

"They're all dead?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," Boss nodded, "where's the stripper cage? We gotta go get Pierce"

"… Stripper cage?"

"Yeah, you know, the whole ceiling thing. Figured that was cage code. Matt?" Matt looked sideways, Boss groaning, "your fucking kidding me…"


They did eventually find Pierce, near the wreckage of the ship. He had killed any krogan near it and drank all the cans of Flow, going as far as to impale the cans on stick and draw scary faces on them. Boss thought it was creepy, but hey, it was Pierce.

Scratch that, this was weird even for Pierce .

But they did find him in his little kingdom of cans, screaming 'Flow' over and over again until Grunt knocked him out, hoisting him on his large shoulder.

"Told you he'd crack" Shaundie remarked.

"Yeah…" Boss agreed. He looked at Pierce, then the cans, then back to Pierce, adding, "we're staging an intervention when we get back. And remind me to start watering down his Flow"


And like that, they were gone, the Fleur De Lis hovering in orbit as it bombed Kaiver's camp, leaving it nothing but ash.

Aaron stood with Boss, Boss in his captain's hat while he yelled, "enough! Nothing left down there, let's bounce"

"Hey Boss," Aaron suddenly asked, "you think I did the right thing?" he pointed down to the planet. "Killing them, I mean"

It's not like he had any regrets or anything from doing it, but still… a second opinion would be nice.

"Nah, no way" Boss shook his head. "I would have done the same thing. You don't pull shit like that and expect mercy, man. Anyway!" he clapped his hands. "We're leaving. You good to go?"
"… yeah" Aaron said. "Just checking on something. Let's get out of here"


Ashes and cinders. That was all that was left of Kaiver's camp. Not even the guns, which Boss had taken back with him.

All gone. His men, his guns, his camp… his daughter.

All because of him.

Aaron.

The one he chose for his daughter, the most important thing in his world.

And as a fist rose through the ashes, only to clench angrily in a fist, the only thing running through Kaiver's mind was one word and one word, a word the legendary warlord would take to heart:

Revenge.


A/N- Just look at all that future plot potential. Anyway, I could make a weed joke due to posting this on 4/20 day, but I'm not going to. Not really in the mood, and that kind of humor doesn't really suit me to be honest, trying to be professional here- anyways!

So, dream sequence everyone probably hated at the beginning…! don't think too hard about it, most likely won't be any more of those, so you can forget them. Just wanted to get some points across. Don't mind it.

And as for Pierce's ceiling thing... let's be honest. I can probably say they put glue in Saints Flow, and it would probably be canonical, too. I'm just saying.

Alright, done here. Cya.