A/N:
As usual, I don´t own anything. Mass Effect belongs to EA and Bioware.
All of my stories are written for fun. No money made here.
Huge thanks to phnxgrl.
Leave a review, tell me what you think and most importantly, enjoy the story.
...
Did I forget to mention that I hate anything hospital related? Funny thing, I´m pretty sure I did. Anyway, waking up with bits and pieces of memory floating around is unsettling. I know I am in the hospital and probably pretty FUBAR too basing it on the happy numb thoughts that my brain is generating.
The annoying machine beeping kind of substitutes for the ringing in my ears. This to me means I am alive and kicking. Well, at least mentally speaking. I try to open my eyes. It is much more difficult than I expect. If I have these kinds of problems while being on meds then I never want to know full implications of my injuries.
Thanks for that visual brain.
Everything is so uncharacteristically bright. It makes me wonder if I´m experiencing another out of body experience. Considering how hard it is to lift my arms. I guess, things like physical extortion from Krogan fist fight can do that to you. I am glad that Lara is not here. In a back of my mind, I try not to think about anything training related. However, at the end I could not. Her lectures and drills are circling in my head like a bunch of mosquitoes.
I am broken, literally and figuratively. I had picked a fight with a group and I lost. Granted, they have a power house that could pick things up. I am being trained to be a badass and so far I am more of an ass than the former. All of the search for authentic storytelling, I feel like pathetic whiny whiner.
Too much…Blame the meds.
Now Lara invades my mental sanctuary without a friendly knock. This is quite frankly in my mental house policy is considered very rude.
What do you think you´re doing?
Just recuperating and whining, expertly if I might add. What do I owe for this pleasure?
Would you please open your eyes? I would rather not abuse this form of communication.
I complied with her request. It certainly is not sun and roses. In the end I was able to do it without too much trouble. Looking around confirms that indeed I am in some sort of medical facility. Lara is sitting on a chair to my left with unreadable expression. That, is a terrifying sight. The early mental outburst did not really count.
"So," Lara keeps her voice forcefully neutral. "Did it work? Did you get the frustration out of your system?"
"Some of it, not all of it," I says hearing my voice being raspy yet sarcastic. "Are you saying that you planned for me to get beat up?"
"It isn't hard get to the fight on Omega." She replies in a still even voice.
"Well, I guess you made your point then." I concede.
"About what…?" She asks.
"That life isn't a game." I respond still thinking of the bruises and pain to come.
…
It took me three days to leave the doctor´s clinic. God bless futuristic medicine. I was surprised to learn that my debut in the arena has been postponed due to my accident. I decided to not question how or why. I half expect someone to bust in and drag me into the ring regardless of my current condition. It did not happen.
I push myself into the training process like a madman. I train doing all the stuff that I mention previously, (minus the whining and cowardly running away) and then some. Weapons training, history lessons and stuff regards to my adaption into society. Having the blocks is useful. According to Lara, it is beneficial for me to explore and extended the brain capabilities. That did not mean I could unlock my hidden power and now I'm Superman. Basic understanding would not be the only way to approach this situation. I am still on my ass, (physically and mentally), most of the time. Though, there are some improvements. It makes me want to work even harder much to Lara´s delight. It is not an easy mindset to maintain. Lara is a demanding teacher.
Even if I did not appreciate the way she handles my wakeup call, I am very glad to have one. Krogan was still a Krogan in my mind. How long I could hide behind this excuse? It is I who makes this choice. I want to be someone and now I have the opportunity. I find myself stressing over these points quite a lot, huh? Well for starters, I´m human, not a machine and my emotions are spiking up and down on daily basis. Looking back at it I guess, that I even have my days.
…
"STOP…!" Lara's voice cut through the air then stopped the countdown.
I did not even know that I am holding my breath. At that particular moment I let myself go to fall on the mat. It is the most welcoming soft material. On the side note, doing all the physical and mental exercise is extremely beneficial. I feel healthier. I'm quite pleased with myself, knowing full well that I have only placed one foot on the starting line.
Lara already waits for me in the ring, ready and able.
"Are you ready for a triathlon?" She smirks.
I stand in the corner looking for some tell that could give me an advantage. Unsurprisingly, I did not find any on the first glance. Normally it would frustrate the hell out of me. That day I took my first steps to utilize my skills. God only knows how many times I will have to stand against all odds. There was no chance for me to defeat Lara, but that did not mean I will not give my all. I did what I could to stay focus, which meant to have clean head going in. My growth towards of what my trainer expects out of me was slow, which could have been an unknown advantage on my side. If anything, it seemed that some pieces of my teacher´s philosophy are starting to show.
We wait, we wait and wait some more…The silence increases the tension. All of it is very visible on a fictive emotional scanner. I could only imagine what its readings would be like. None of us seemed to be willing to move. It is a form of psychological battle, test of will or the intimidation game. For me it meant only one thing: observation.
My opponent is a very resourceful one. She's able to change to a different fighting style on a fly with any situation. These exercises never has been about who would win or lose. It is about going the extra mile then do what it takes to survive. It is a basic concept to understand. Not necessarily an easy one to accept. In the end it means losing the familiarity within yourself. The act of necessity can be enough of a reason. Though, is it really enough? This is what I see when I look at Lara closely. The constant inter struggle between what is necessary to what is desired. It's the ultimate rise in price of an already large bill. I catch only a glimpse of it in my flat before my supposed death. Still she finds a reason to keep going. Granted, I am probably a big reason why that is the case. I never was much for flattery anyway.
We launch at the same time. Lara dictates the fast paced tempo by keeping me on the defensive. This type of battle makes this situation even harder. Props to me for being able to adjust relatively quickly just only receiving minor cut above my eye right at the start. She is extremely quick, agile then finding a way to mix things up with her punches and kicks. She keeps me guessing. Every time I am able to do something she blocks it with ease. I suffer counter just as hard, if not even more. I have to admire her mental preparation. An angry voice in my head is really pissed. This voice simply wants to give her all. The more rational side of me however is waiting for an opening.
Given the rule of no superpowers I highly doubt that Lara would remain with this kind of pace. Yes, she is younger and well trained. I have some advantages too. I have size and patience on my side. Using it properly, means at least stopping this assault momentarily and perhaps gain the advantage. Then is there another barrage of kicks. I take her foot in the air and pull. What I did not expect is for her using me as a launching pad. A devastating blow to the head drops me to my knees. I am stunned. Reflexively blocking the attack I hear a sound of breaking bones. I barely register it. I grab the coming right hand then twist it hard. While I still hold her hand a kick to the stomach makes her go down to my previous position. I still did not pull instead I use the momentum to gather my strength. Then I pull towards the ground breaking her arm again in a process. Finally, I see her on the ground breathing heavily trying to pick herself up. It took a while.
"Up to the second task you go." She says as she rises.
…
I feel numb then try not to think about what has happened just minutes go. My brain refuses to cooperate. I know, it is necessary for me to stretch my binderies in order to survive. There was a part of me that is remorseful about what happened. Even if it is the part of the exercise I should have recognize the difference between practice and reality. In the end that is the purpose of the training: to be prepared.
The sound of an alarm signals the start of the exercise. The outdoor grounds are good for what Lara likes to call, the Rocky Road. Imagine Rocky training with some nasty parkour elements. This girl is freaking crazy. The first time I passed what Lara called "the beginner's course" I was sure that I did die. Lara is not the type of trainer who believes in the easy mode. You are either able to swim with the fishes or not. If not, you would literally be eaten by them. With the amount of bruises and nearly broken bones, let me say that I am more than grateful for medigel. So back to the story…
Going on autopilot I run straight towards the ladder. I know it would welcome me as the first objective obstruction to this light workout. Running at the end is pretty much all muscle work. But combine that with two or three other task and your focus is suddenly challenged. The Rocky Road is in an uncompleted part of the complex. What was it for originally I could have only guess.
It poses a challenge. With Lara's training, it is spicy mix. It is just enough to give me hell every time I attempt it. This is another point that my mentor put an emphasis. Always be better. These words will be my mantra for the rest of my days. It´s means do not only rely on physical aspects. Do much of this stuff to gain muscles to be attractive. It is most a certainly type of life style. It is something, which full context I understood better later on…
As I pass my first obstacle I begin to channel my inter monkey. The key is to always stay on the move. Once you do it you were pretty much safe. I try not to pay attention to the squeaky sounds that this construction makes. I notice the increasing elevation. I attempt not to think about it much. In my periphery vision, an image of a black UFO catches my eye. Omega is definitely not a planet with healthy enough ecosystem to produce birds.
Cautiously I hide in a convenient spot as I observe the situation. All the while I curse myself for not being combat ready. Being in my jaggy attire I feel comical and stupid. It certainly did not rock the alpha male feel I was trying to create. The UFO meanwhile is descending near the training grounds then starts to multiply. So in the end, it's not a bird nor a plane but the two commando groups. If either of them are Super-Men, to be fair, I did not have a chance to observe that. Considering it is only six of them I suggest recon team. Are they dangerous? Probably, given the fact that, they are here.
….
The ground area is very large to cover. The fact that it has been a construction site is very welcome. It means there is also a big pile of junk that comes with places like this. However, it also means that I have to be very careful. The group is spreading around the complex all in fancy gear and stuff.
Lara I sincerely hope your middle name is Houston, because we have definitely a problem. Use your psychic thingy and look outside, any ideas?
To my great displeasure a sarcastic remark did not reach my ears, which is unfortunate.
So, my first real combat experience right among our doorstep. Nice.
Only advantage I have beside my obviously developing abs is the fact that the training grounds were sort of the grey area. That in itself is a small consolation. Considering the guys below me are geared up and highly trained. If I want to survive this I know I would have to do some serious improvisation. I seriously doubt I would be able to pull the big bad bat out of the hat. I am sure though, I could mix things up with some tricks of my own.
Life is not the game.
Rather not to think about the big K elephant in the room. I start to look for things like pieces of something construction worthy to use as distractions. Crafting system in the videogames is handy. Trying to think of it on the fly is much harder. Sure, in the movies it appears all gritty dark and exciting. In the reality it looks all grey and shady. Yes, thanks to Lara´s training and block "upgrades" I know stuff now. That does not mean thatI am happy to jump the gun for its use.
/Memory Block/
Do you remember when I told you about my first diary experience the definition of weird? Trust me, it can go much more weird. I find myself being as an observer in someone else's body. At least the first time I could move freely in some fashion. This time the universe simply decides to chain me. From the writer´s perspective I would applaud the idea of keeping the reader's interest. From my point of view however, I call it bullshit. I could not move I could not talk I could only observe the experience. Granted, it is Lara's body, which meant that I could potentially find out more information about her. These blocks are just so random and out of order. It frustrates the hell out of me.
Walking through the corridors of an alliance base, (judging by the uniforms), Lara seems to provoke mix reactions. Some are envious, some neutral or hesitant, the most are hostile. Lara makes her way to the captain's office.
Captain Erica Leroy is a one busy lady, if the circles under her eyes are any indication.
"At ease soldier, you´re no longer at the base camp. Take a seat." She offers.
Nothing happened for a moment, as the captain seems to read her file.
"Your results are exceptional. General Vakarian seems to be quite fond of you." She says not taking her eyes off the file.
"Why do you think that?" Lara mused.
"For one you're talking to me, thanks to his recommendation." She says placing the file out of mind to really look at Lara.
"I did not ask for any special treatment, ma'am." Lara replies.
"Considering your situation I find that hard to believe, Soldier." She says with almost bitterness to her voice. "You are practically the synthesis poster-child."
"Is this a problem that´s keeping me for doing my job?" Lara asked calmly trying to keep the conversation civil.
"Apparently not," answered the tired looking woman. "You´ve been assigned to commander Kassalski. It's an honor for a rookie to start a career that high on the food chain, dismissed."
Lara stands ready to leave.
"Just remember this kid, I have nothing against you as a person. I just despise the ideal you´re representing here." She says looking directly at her.
/Memory Block/
I guess that this little tit bit was necessary just to see if the thing is still working. It is either that or my psyche needs some reassurance. I have nothing against it as long as I maintain my focus. Let me tell you, these blocks in the beginning are a nightmare. To make matters worse I am put to my first field test. I guess I should be thankful for my little hideout. If by hideout you mean some safe vigilant position? Nope. I know that the first time I do some action worthy I am pretty much toast.
What did you expect…Me going all Bat-Rambo? No. I am only hoping that they move along like the good storm troopers should. So I could eventually sneak out and find Lara. But as you probably know by now, when is something so complicating as life. Things rarely happen the way we plan them. This is why I did not feel too keen to leave my precious hiding spot.
Then there's something that forces me to act. It's a call between the not so obvious leader of the squad and the unknown caller. The simple phrase: "package secured" makes the unknown party pack up. This means to be a literally the worse headache for me.
The image of a mysterious cupboard somewhere in the factory is so sudden it nearly makes me scream in fear. But somehow I manage to be quiet. I wait ten seconds before I am able to gather enough courage to act. It is almost intuitive situation. I try to reassure myself, that all of this is somehow part of Lara's plans. In reality I know that something like this is impossible to plan. I read a lot of sci-fi about time-travel to know that time is not constant. The simple fact that I am here only supports my argument. I already met Aria of all people…
I need something. I need something for me to find a clue or something.
Let me tell you the next two minutes signify an improvement of my cardio. Sprinting to the factory I reach my destination and find the room that is fried into my brain. I make an observation that the place is not trashed. This means that this group is after Lara alone. That raises a million credit question.
How did they manage to find her here?
Pushing it aside I make my way towards the mysterious cupboard. Why mysterious you may ask…Because like everything in here it seems old school. Not the futuristic material but the simple good old wood. If I have learned anything so far, nothing is that simple. The whole room looked like the big garage except the cupboard in the center of the room is empty. Do not think less of me but at that moment my throat is very sore. I do not know how long I stand there waging my options. In the real time it could have been five seconds at best. My blood is pumping and the adrenaline put my fears six feet under. So, I attempt to open the Pandora box.
The first thing I feel since I touch the door is a sharp and unexpected sting. I am so surprise by it that I did not even move.
…Analyzing…
…Searching…
…Running DNA Comparisons…
…Identity confirmed…
At that moment the room came to life. Lights switch on, monitors popping out of the walls along with glass boxes filled with equipment. The most interesting thing was the "Pandora Box," which morphed itself into the keyboard slash table.
"So, Guinea pig version 3.23456, how do you like my not so secret - secret room?"
After all of this I manage to finally finch. The voice was so cheerful too.
"Who are you? Why the categorization…?" I respond.
You may call me the Goblin. Gobby, if we are ever friends," the amusing creepy tone did not leave the room. "As for the categorization you're the first one capable. Now shut up and wear the bracelet on the table. Or you'll be looking even more ridiculous."
"If you have this…this time travel ability, why don't you just you stop Shepard when it's time?"
"If I did that I would be dead before I could do anything. It is one flaw of the synthesis. This is why I came to you. You are the best candidate."
The early conversation somehow now makes sense. It causes all my insides crawl. Picking up the bracelet I'm surprised with another sting. Before I could get my bearings, I have my head covered by the helmet.
"You didn´t think, that you´re going out in yoga clothes," Goblin was enjoying my discomfort far too much. "I got her signal, pick your equipment and go."
"If I survive this, I plan to have a serious conversation with both of you." I mumble angrily while picking up pistol, couple of grenades and assault rifle.
"The transport is down the hall on the right."
…
We end up chasing the target to its mother ship. It looks like some flying piece of garbage, which I guess is probably the point. Handling of our vehicle seems to be alright, since Goblin as an AI did most of the work. Finally I see my reflection.
You have to be kidding me!
I did in fact, look ridiculous. Like some freaking red space ranger. This is in fact ridiculous on the double. I should have been admiring wonders of the universe, since I was in SPACE! Instead, I am concentrating on a suit.
"Focus, our tractions will soon collide in one endless point." Goblin says in his creepy cheerful manner.
"Please," I sighed. "You didn´t stick me as a proper AI so far, so if it´s even remotely possible don´t behave like one."
"Put it into basic terms for dummies, we´re going to be fracked up pretty bad in the hangar area."