Chapter 19: Under the Knife

A sphere of dark energy roiled and twisted its way into the asari's biotic barrier, tearing into the defense with a warbling echo. Malea felt the impact as the attack coiled across the surface of the shield, trying vainly to pierce it.

The asari held up her hand and her pupil dropped into an 'at ease' stance. "That was stronger, but it's still not focused. Think of it as an anti-armor round. A warp attack needs to pierce the target, then shear it."

The ex-commando took her stance again and Nolta concentrated for a few moments before unleashing another dark energy assault. The result was much the same, an inexperienced trainee like himself had no real chance of causing any harm to an experienced adept like herself. Nolta's head hung slightly, a nearly imperceptible gesture, but one that Malea picked up right away.

"You can't feel it yet, can you?"

The youth cocked his head to the side. "Feel what?"

"You'll know. It's something you'll get with experience. Now, again, but this time, try pointing at your target when you release the attack." She offered a brief example, swinging her arm overhand with her fingers tightly together in a mock blade. Nolta twitched as her whole body was wreathed in the characteristic blue flame that accompanied a biotic attack.

T'komé returned to her ready stance and nodded. Nolta offered a small huff and took a fighting stance, then swung his arm forward in a knifing motion. In the space of an instant, tiny tendrils of blue light snaked across his outstretched arm joining and twisting together, finally coalescing at the end before launching forward. By now, the sound of the impact was quite familiar and Nolta glowered at the seeming lack of progress from his previous attempts, though this particular run had felt more… natural.

T'kome nodded. "Very good. That seemed a little less forced, didn't it? Like you didn't have to focus quite as hard?"

Her pupil squinted. Using biotics at this early stage was both mentally and physically exhausting, though less so than when he'd first started. Malea had claimed that she could sense his focus improving, that she was able to detect minor differences in the way his attacks hit her defenses. It wasn't just a mental game, there was more to it.

Almost in answer to his suspicions, the asari spoke again. "Like I've told you before, once you're familiar with your abilities, start to get good with them, your brain will naturally associate them with certain motions. You'll hit a point where you shouldn't even have to think about it, you'll just swing your arm forward and you'll create the necessary mass effect field."

Almost as an aside, she added. "That will be all for today, go and get rested up. You'll need a lot of energy tomorrow."

The young quarian nodded, stripped a small monitoring OSD from his omni-tool and handed it over to his trainer. Malea accepted it and transferred the young man's readouts to her own omni tool as he left. The disk contained data on his pulse, core temperature and various other vital signs, all of which needed to be monitored during the training sessions. She'd go over them in the next few minutes. In the mean time, she had to file her weekly report to the admiralty board on her pupil's progress.

Two weeks later, aboard medical ship Drinalu

The Drinalu was one of the older ships in the flotilla. At 247 years old, it was also the oldest medical ship in the fleet. This was the location that Malea had selected for Nolta's implantation surgery. The asari herself would not be performing the procedure, but would be overseeing it in a separate room.

Nolta sat next to his bunk mate in pre-op, turning a small device over in his hands. It was thin, flat, and, like the vastness of space, a pure fathomless black. Small notches were present at regular intervals all along the sides and back of the object, designed to fit with the universal wrist-mounts on all quarian environment suits. The biotic amp was roughly the same size and shape as an omni-tool when its holographic interface was activated, but instead of a dim orange, the device displayed in a vibrant aquamarine.

"You know you don't have to do this?" Rikka prompted.

The quarian offered only a solemn nod, Without specialized implants, the device in his hands was about as useful as a gun without a power cell. It had enormous potential, but couldn't harness it. In order for the device to be fully functional, he would have to endure a surgical procedure that averaged nearly twelve hours, something that was especially risky for a quarian, even in clean-room environments.

"Captain Tenga has made it abundantly clear that this is your decision…"

" I need t' do et. I made a promise t' m'self. Ef I don' do thes, I can't reach m' full potential."

"You won't have any potential to reach if you die. No one is forcing you into that room."

Nolta smirked. "Mess Nall, ef I dedn' know any better, I'd say y' were concerned 'bout me…"

"I'm your Bunkie. I know we probably haven't talked as much as most quarians who share quarters, but still…"

The light above the door to the prep room blinked on and a crisp, formal voice barked over the comm. "Nolta'Lae vas Andras, the prep room is ready, please enter and de-suit."

He swallowed, only now realizing just how dry his throat was. This was it. He could turn back now, and be a slightly more than average soldier, or he could enter that chamber and face the very real possibility of dying on the operating table.

No, turning back now would disgrace everything he stood for, everyone who had helped him on his pilgrimage, if he died during the procedure, at least he would have done so selflessly.

With a final nod, Nolta rose, gave Rikka and uncertain stare, and made his way into the prep-room. Pure white coated every wall and the table in the center bore a data-pad with instructions and a specialized suit for him to wear into the operating room. The young biotic began to decouple his sections seals with a cold pit in his stomach. Whatever happened now, it was too late to turn back.

Rikka sat in the waiting area just outside of the operating room. She wasn't exactly attracted to her bunk mate, at least, she didn't think so, but the two of them had shared quarters for the better part of four months. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure what she felt about him. Yes he was probably the most 'built' quarian male aboard the Andras within her age range, but he was also a biotic, and, while not conceited about it, he did seem somewhat distant. Then again, she wasn't the best at reading people.

The young woman looked down at the omni-tool on her wrist. Much like the one she'd had in Torr's chop-shop, it was an old piece of equipment, one that had seen more than its fair share of use. What about the tech that Nolta was receiving? Would all of that be antiquated equipment as well? Unlikely, She decided. Such a rare gift as a biotic would not be spared any expense.

Malea watched as the surgeons began their eighth hour of work on the young man lying facedown on the table. The suit he'd been given for the surgery covered his front, legs, arms, and face, leaving his back, and the back of his skull exposed. The neural implants were complete and the young man's skull had been re-sealed with a special bonding compound. Several implants had already been installed in his upper back and shoulders, the framework for the focusing field that would be generated by the amp's external unit.

As the fourth rotation of specialists entered the room, work commenced on the spinal column. T'komé saw a group of specialized clamps sealed into place along the vertebrae and breathed a sigh of relief, the most dangerous part of the surgery was complete.

"How are you feeling?" The asari's voice trickled into his consciousness like a rivulet of cold water.

Nolta offered only a grunt, but the response was enough to set his nerves on fire. Stars flooded his vision and energy crackled through his muscles. The quarian screamed as pain wracked every corner of his tissues. He tried to move, but his muscles refused to comply. He screamed again and Rikka flinched.

Malea closed her eyes. She'd seen this before, Once. The first and only other quarian biotic she'd trained had experienced similar agony after his implantation surgery as well.

"Wh-" Nolta tried to speak through the fire that licked along his nerves, but the scream he released swallowed any words that would have been intelligible.

"Stop. Don't try to speak." T'komé rested a hand on the table where the young biotic was strapped down. "Your nervous system was exposed to open air for the surgery, you're likely to feel significant discomfort for a while."

Silver eyes twitched behind the robin's egg blue of the surgical mask. How long was 'a while?'

"I don't know Nolta." Malea ground her teeth together and severed the brief mental connection she'd made with the quarian. She could still feel the corrosive sensation crawling through her nerves. "The best thing you can do right now is sleep. When you're recovered enough, you'll get your new suit."

Nolta's eyes closed and he offered a single, almost undetectable nod, sending a fresh wave of agony through his nerves. This time, though, he did not scream. He simply ground his teeth until he thought they would break.

seven days later

Nolta woke up that morning to find the pain largely subdued. Some of it was probably thanks to residual amounts of the painkiller he'd accepted to get to sleep, but he could tell it was less ferocious than before by the way it hurt. Instead of a searing burn throughout his body, the sensation had subsided to an angry throb around the incisions where the implants had been inserted.

He wasn't recovered enough to get up yet, he was sure of that much, but there would be-

"Nolta, good you're awake." T'komé's voice filtered in over the speaker in the room. "Okay, listen, I know you're still hurting, but the surgeons reckon that your body has largely recovered from the majority of the surgical incisions."

You've got to be kidding…

"Listen to me, Nolta, the first three weeks after the implants are installed are the most important for syncing up with your amp." The quarian struggled to focus on her words. "The more you practice now, the faster your body will adjust to the cybernetics."

Absolutely ridiculous, did she really expect him to-

"I need you to get out of that surgical bed, Nolta. Your new environment suit is waiting for you in the airlock."

For several seconds, the quarian very strongly considered disobeying her orders. He felt like doing nothing more than lying down. Still, if what she was saying was true…

The quarian pried himself from the table and let out a quiet shout as his feet hit the deck of the room. No rest for the weary. It took several short strides to reach the door, but Nolta pressed himself to continue. As soon as the doors parted, his new environment suit caught his eye.

As he'd requested, the material for the outfit was fabricated using a rich aquamarine tone, trimmed with a deep green visor and similarly colored pauldrons. Several utility pouches adorned the suit's belt and a savage combat knife was mounted on the right pauldron.

With an almost reverential manner, the quarian detached the helmet from his surgical suit and donned his new outfit. Even the lingering pain from the operation slipped from his mind as he activated the unit and the helm's Heads Up Display flared to life.

Author's note:

Well, Nolta will soon get the chance to test his true mettle. The next chapter is probably going to be titled "Deployment" if my outline holds up (much like Awakening, I've had quite a few chapters that weren't in the original outline) It remains to be seen how many chapters that arc will take.

Writing Nolta's surgery was something I originally had no intention of doing, but, I figured, I might as well see what I'm capable of…