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Hello everyone, Glad so many of you enjoyed the last chapter, and liked the concept itself. Sorry this one took so long, real life got in the way. Anyway, enjoy and rest assured I have a few more ideas up my sleeve.
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Jalla' Camis nar Qwib Qwib stared morosely at the grounded ship before her. She had heard all the stories about pilgrimages that went wrong. Quarians getting themselves killed or shipped off as slaves, every young pilgrim had the same dire warnings. However being grounded on a minor colony because of ship malfunctions was too mundane for anyone to really think about. The stupid thing was the ship would have been fine if the crew had just listened to her in the first place. But that stuck up Asari Captain didn't want a Quarian anywhere near the engines of her first ever ship (paid for by her rich mother of course) because it was hers and she knew exactly what she was doing. She did not need some suit rat's opinion, even though that was supposed to be what Jalla had been hired for.
As for the colony itself, well it was difficult not to be jumpy. Less than a year ago every eye in the galaxy was focused on this otherwise unremarkable planet. But Shanxi had survived, battered and scarred as it was, and these humans were rebuilding. But some things could not be so easily fixed and the humans, here at least, looked upon any outsider with barely concealed hostility. Well, Jalla thought with a scowl, not every non-human was unwelcome. The rest of her 'shipmates', for lack of a better term, were certainly making themselves very at home. But of course young, wild, up for anything Asari maidens were always popular with every species. As for Jalla she felt quite alone, almost certainly the first Quarian ever to visit this world. A member of a species that were already universally looked down upon, trapped on a planet with unfamiliar hostile aliens...Jalla was glad she always carried her wrenches. As self-defence went, they were cheaper than guns and far easier to aim.
Jalla's sobering train of thought was interrupted the rumble of her stomach. That at least was not something she needed to worry about. Quarian rations were hard to come outside the fleet so stockpiling was a necessity. She had enough to last her for months. It was as she headed back to her quarters that she saw the poster. Translation programs were always imperfect, especially with brand new languages but she checked and checked again there was no mistake. It was the most bizarre thing the young Quarian had ever seen.
SHANXI ROBOT WARS!
BUILD YOUR OWN BOTS AND WATCH THEM FIGTH!
CASH PRIZES AND QUALIFICATION TO THE GRAND TOURNAMENT!
Below was a long list of rules and criteria, as well as pictures of previous winning robots in various states of disrepair.
After reading the poster Jalla's mind began to turn. It was such a strange idea. Using perfectly good resources for such a frivolous reason would be inconceivable back on the fleet. Nevertheless, these humans had enough metal and electronics around to make machines purely for entertainment, and with a presumably high likelihood of irreparable damage being caused. In addition, they were offering cash prizes...she could work with that.
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The rather gruff looking old human stared at her as she approached the desk. Her nerves held, just. She could do this.
"Er...hello, sir. I'd like to apply for the contest."
He stared at her for the longest time, was he going to refuse?
"You're not one of them Asari are you?"
"No sir, I am a Quarian."
"Never heard of 'em."
She sighed, "That's not so surprising."
"Well...as to the contest...there's no rule that says you can't I suppose." He then scowled and rubbed the stump where his arm used to be. "And you're no fucking Turian at least... you've read the rules?"
Jalla nodded.
"We begin in a week."
"Thank you", she said rather breathlessly, her relief palpable.
"Yes, well, that's what I'm here for."
Jalla half wanted to run before the human changed his mind but she had one more question.
"Where could I get materials?"
He gaped at her.
"You haven't built your machine yet? But you've only got a week!"
Behind her mask the young girl smirked.
"That will be fine, as long as I have the metal."
"Well, the only real scrap around here is from downed Turian ships."
Turian warships? The Human was actually suggesting using military grade materials for a simple contest? Jalla did not know whether to envy their abundance of resources or pity her poor competitors. Either way her mind went into overdrive at the possibilities.
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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME, TO THE 10TH ANNUAL SHANXI ROBOT WARS!
The announcer was almost deafeningly loud, but Jalla appreciated the distraction. Had she remembered everything? That wire connection was still a little loose if only she had a minute or two...
TONIGHT WE BEGIN OUR FIRST ROUND MATCHES! THE WINNERS WILL MOVE ONE STEP FURTHER TO THE GRAND FINAL ON EARTH! WHILE THE LOSERS WILL BE ELIMINATED!
The roars of approval came from all sides of the square arena, humans of all shapes and sizes were here. There were of lot of children here Jalla noted, often with colourful banners and, for some strange reason, giant pointing hands made of some sort of foam.
NOW, BEFORE WE SEE METAL FLY LETS MEET OUR ASPIRING CHAMPIONS!
A female with a microphone went down the line, asking questions to each of the teams, Jalla glumly noted she was the only one on her own. The human was getting closer and closer to her, what on Rannoch was she supposed to say? Jalla hadn't spoken to anyone backstage; she had mostly just been stared at.
"And now we meet our newest competitor. Our first ever non human..."
The crowd was murmuring; there were a few boos and hisses. Jalla felt herself tense but there was no way to back out now.
"...Jalla Carnis!"
She waved at the crowd, the murmuring died down a little. It seemed they at least wanted to hear her out.
"So, Jalla, am I saying that right? What brings you to Shanxi?"
Now the silence was absolute.
"Well," stammered the Quarian. "To be honest I only arrived here by accident when the ship I was on was grounded..."
"She's from that ship of home wrecking blue bitches!" screamed one woman who seemed unable to stand up properly. The bouncers quietly escorted her out.
"Um, yes," Jalla tried to get back on track. "So I saw the poster for this and decided to try."
Her interviewer looked confused.
"But that means you built your machine in a week."
"Um, well, yes."
There was more murmuring, and not just in the crowd. The other teams spoke amongst themselves, some looked confused, others rather smug.
"I'm sure I'm not the only one who is wondering how you managed this," said the interviewer, "Did you have any help?"
"No"
"How much money did you have?"
"None"
The talking got louder. The interviewer had to wait almost a full minute before she could continue.
"But...then how did you manage to build your machine?"
"Well I had my tools already and the materials came from that crashed Turian transport ship outside the colony."
"Wait a minute; you used the Turian ship?"
Jalla was beginning to wonder if she had made a horrible mistake, but she answered all the same.
"Yes, but it wasn't ideal. Turian vessels always have some serious design flaws that I had to work around."
"Well, we certainly noticed those flaws," replied the interviewer, smiling with a slightly vicious look on her face.
Some in the crowd laughed. Jalla looked round. Apparently mocking the Turians was the way to acceptance here. She could defiantely work with that.
"Ok, last question; what have you called your machine?"
Jalla smiled softly and turned to her creation. It was designed to withstand any close combat weapons. The small biotic shield worked perfectly and the missile launcher had been tested thoroughly. Naturally it was painted in her home ship's traditional colour; bright Fuchsia.
"I named it after the ship I was born and grew up on; The Wrath of the Qwib Qwib."
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The two elderly Admirals looked over the balcony at the off duty crew (and quite possibly some who were supposed to be working) who were staring at the communal screen.
"I don't get it"
"I know"
"We have been teaching our people not to waste resources for centuries and now the most wasteful pilgrim in our history is cheered throughout the fleet."
"Surely it's not so strange; an ordinary Quarian girl travels to a strange new part of the galaxy and ends up a celebrity. We couldn't have asked for a better ambassador."
"She is hardly universally loved by these humans."
"True, but those that hate her are largely dismissed. Her own modesty and politeness have further helped marginalise such attitudes."
"You've heard some of the...ideas coming from the civilians."
"Yes... but it's not such a bad suggestion."
A thunderous cheer from the floor below them interrupted the Admiral's conversation.
"...AND IT'S ALL OVER! THE WRATH OF THE QWIB QWIB CAME FOR NOWHERE TO WIN THE GRAND CHAMPIONSHIP! THE CREW OF WAR BARSTARD MAY BE CRYING THAT IT'S NOT FAIR BUT ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND ROBOT WARS! JALLA CARNIS, THE FIRST EVER ALIEN CONTESTANT HAS WON AND SHE IS BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN CELEBRATION..."
"Well" said the second Admiral, trying to be heard over the cheers, screaming and applause coming from the deck. "Young Jalla will have her pick of ships when she returns."
"If she returns," Grumbled the other, "I would not be surprised if she decides to stay on Earth as a Human pet."
"Oh I hardly think that's likely, she must be aware of the homecoming she'll receive from all of the fan mail and well wishes."
"A waste of resources and a waste of time! And as for getting our children to build machines as part of their schooling..."
"It will teach ingenuity and unorthodox thinking. Who knows what new ideas might come from such competitions? On my own ship young Xen is already testing weapon designs she has seen against Geth armour."
"A complete dead end and an utterly absurd pipe dream!"
"Maybe, but even if it is when was the last time you've seen so many of our people watching a pirated broadcast and cheering for one of their own? Rumour is that the Salarians will soon be making their own version and we will be quietly squeezed out of entering. Let us enjoy this victory while it lasts. At least until we can set up our own tournament."
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