Mass Effect: "All Along the Watchtower"
Chapter Five – Respite and Relaxation
The Palavian sun calmly sank down through a deep sky, burying itself behind rolling green hills and scattered collections of ancient temples that reached far into the air. The more the sun fell, the more the sky became layered in almost perfect stripes of color, from the red canopy to the ochre horizon. No breeze disturbed the flat, ordered warmth, and even the occasionally-falling lilac-colored blossoms from the nearby gardens respectfully avoided his boots as they fell. Lee Bryant was content.
The turian homeworld was a beautiful place, and in a way he was glad that he had been forced to fly his crew here. Though he would have preferred to have Velotto tried by an Alliance court, he knew at least that the turian Hierarchy would sentence her fairly. They might be harsher, in fact. Lately the Alliance seemed deathly afraid of upsetting the Council races. Here on Palaven, Velotto would at the very least get a good stretch of hard labor.
This was Bryant's third visit to the serene port facilities of Aihus City. For the moment he had to wait while his unscheduled arrival was dealt with by the authorities. The SSV Shiloh sat behind him on the open landing pad, resting as he was, and ahead of him he saw a turian woman, shorter than average with fair grey skin and arms held together in front of her waist. When he had disembarked, Bryant had been told by this pleasant sentry that he and his men were not permitted to pass through the corridor she stood by. As long as there was fresh air and comfortable seating here in the docking bay's outdoor lounge, that was just fine with him.
The turian girl had even apologized for not being able to provide drinks suitable for human consumption while the crew waited. Bryant had actually smiled then and he dismissed her. Compared to the state of living on the Shiloh or the conditions of any Alliance waiting room he had seen, this was luxury.
Most of his crew were outside, too, enjoying the unscheduled stop and treating it like shore leave. Ahead of him he saw Private Young admiring the modest pastel view beyond the dock, and 'Joker' Moreau bothering her. Frankly, Bryant was surprised that it had taken so long before one of his male crewmen started sniffing around her. Young was the only woman onboard, and one of the few female biotics presently enlisted. He knew a few of the L2's had been women, but at last report, none of them had made it to active duty. They had all gone AWOL, snapped or died, like all but a few of the men.
Young was pretty for a soldier. Her features were the common mix of African and Mexican, but she wore them well. Moreau, hindered by leg braces and crutches, was still a few steps behind her, but he was gaining fast. Bryant didn't know whether to intervene or not. The brash, cocky pilot's demeanor would no-doubt make for a bad first impression, as it did with everyone he met, but Bryant was already starting to like him. Maybe he would grow on her, too.
It had been a wise move, bringing that one in. He figured Moreau was one of two 'wild cards' in his crew. He had been through a couple of disciplinary procedures on his previous ships, both military and governmental, but his service record and Academy scores simply spoke for themselves. Of course, he had proven himself already in the escape from the Pathfinder. The kid would have more freedoms under Bryant's command, but he'd know about it if he stepped out of line. The captain expected this relationship to work out pretty well.
The other wild card, of course, was his best lieutenant. Kaidan Alenko was a strange, quiet young man who could be trusted but not relied upon. In this way he contrasted with every one of the L3 biotics in the Cabal, and that was precisely why Bryant had picked him out as a leader. Alenko's soul was pure and honest and these cocky kids from the Academy would do well to learn from a good man who came out of a torture camp with enough confidence to re-enlist.
The new biotics were weaker but had no side-effects, and there was no arguing that this was for the best, but there was one big problem with all of them. They all thought they were supermen, when really they were just twenty-something FNG's with some clever tricks. If they ever accepted Alenko as their leader rather than fearing and shunning him, they could learn a lot about soldiering.
"Captain Bryant?" said a soft, two-tone voice, and his head snapped upward to see the eyes of their host.
"Your arrival has been cleared," she said nodding a little. "We have made arrangements for you to travel to the city centre and the Judiciary Temples today. When you're ready, a transport will be waiting."
"Thank you, citizen," he replied. He was impressed by the trouble the girl had gone to, and thought she deserved the compliment.
"I will be just outside the bay, if you have any questions. Welcome to Aihus City, sir."
This time he nodded to her, and she stepped away before he turned back to the ship. He needed to escort his irritating prisoner to jail. Hopefully as Ka'hyra Velotto vanished from his workload, so would the lone warship ship that had given chase before that first relay.
As he marched across the white, matte flooring, Bryant casually selected the soldiers he would bring along with him. Alenko, certainly, just in case the prisoner made a run for it, and a couple more. Maybe he ought to take Young, so as to give her a break from Joker, who was still bothering her.
Whoever he selected, he hoped they would enjoy the city as much as he did. Because of First Contact, most Alliance personnel still had a lot of misconceptions about the turians. All they ever saw of them were tough pirates and the occasional angry, barking general. Their home planet, though, revealed a side to them that humans usually chose to ignore. Their uniquely ordered and regimented, yet beautiful and serene home was truly a marvel. Even this room held more serenity and beauty than any Alliance station or colony world, except maybe Eden Prime. The air here, in a docking bay no less, was cleaner and sweeter than any that could be found on Earth.
At an even pace Bryant strolled into Shiloh's boarding corridor and waited for the scans to start. Despite the vessel's disastrous mission, he felt thoroughly replenished.
--
"Good morning, captain," Ka'hyra said distantly as Bryant found her in the cargo hold, watched by Alenko, who offered no greeting.
The lieutenant looked rough. His usually slick hair was slightly ruffled. The fingers of his left hand moved through it, cradling his head. The right side of his forehead sported angry red patches.
Bryant looked him over. "You all right, Alenko?"
"Yes sir," he replied, snapping into position. "Got a headache, that's all. I get them some days. It comes with be…"
"Being a L2. Yes, I read your file. Some would say you got lucky, considering."
Bryant wondered if perhaps bringing Kaidan along was a bad idea. Besides the problems his implants were giving him, the combination of his experiences on the mission so far, the bump to his head he received the night before and the incessant yammering of the prisoner had clearly taken their toll. He needed a break.
"Some would say," Ka'hyra butted in, "that Kaidan was rather unlucky." She looked a little worse for wear herself. "I read a little about your Jump Zero."
In an instant, the old Alliance loyalty in Bryant seized control of his voice. "Gagarin Station," he corrected her and regretted it immediately. Gagarin Station was certainly not the name that Kaidan had come to know it by. He was hesitant to see how his lieutenant had reacted to the correction.
Ka'hyra looked confused. "Is that the official name? Hmm. I suppose even if you called the devil by a different name, eventually he wouldn't be as intimidating. The human capacity for reconciliation is certainly a marvel to see at work."
Without bothering to respond, Bryant looked back to Kaidan. "Alenko, get some rest, all right? Get a shower and some fresh air. Did you sleep?"
Kaidan nodded and confirmed rather meekly that he had gotten a few hours. Bryant gave him the briefest of smiles. "Okay, good. We're leaving with our prisoner in an hour. You've done a good job taking care of her, and I want you onboard later."
Right away Kaidan got to his feet and left the room. As he did, Bryant decided to personally take over the duty of watching the turian. He seated himself on the edge of the weapons desk and gave some consideration to her own condition.
A thought occurred to him. "You must be hungry," he said.
"Thirsty," she replied. "The lieutenant already informed me that you have no food fit for my species' digestion on the ship. I will last a few more hours, I'm sure. No need to…"
"I wasn't offering."
Ka'hyra nodded, smiling as if chastising herself. The lack of food seemed to have drained some of her pomposity.
"Among my people," she said softly, "I was known as an excellent pilot. Before I deserted, of course."
There was a moment of silence whilst Bryant wondered what her point might be, when she finally got around to it. "Bully for you," he said.
"I didn't say so at the time for fear of further inflating his ego, but yesterday your pilot's skill astounded me."
Still wary of her meaning, Bryant could only say, "Likewise. Moreau's probably the best helmsman the Alliance has. "
"I can believe that. And your Lieutenant, too. He's a good soldier and a fine biotic. You picked your crew well." Before Bryant could respond, she made her point. "This is the only Alliance vessel of its kind, isn't it? They're all biotic."
"Yes, they are. It's a…"
"It's a Cabal, captain. You've based this unit's design and strategy on the turian model for small, biotic units. Your own leadership style borrows heavily from our own culture. You're like a chieftain. May I assume this Alliance Cabal was your idea?"
Bryant stood again, as if to break the conversation and shield himself from her tiny, inquisitive eyes. This turian had a quick mind, and she had a knack for figuring people out. She wondered what she had learned about Alenko all the time he had been watching her.
Starting to walk away, he glanced over to her. "I'd prefer to continue this out in the open air," he said.
"You would," she confirmed, studying him with a detached interest. "You don't want to lose any of the time you have on Palaven. You like it here."
"Yes I like it. If you'd seen what Earth has become since my people entered space, you'd understand."
She did not answer him, but presented the captain with her latest judgment. "You know more about the turian military and way of life than you know about human biotics, I think," she offered, her head tilted.
"I know all I need to know about biotics, Velotto. And I know my men as well as anyone. Now please, let's take this upstairs." With a nod to Private Chagaan in the corner, Bryant opened the far door and waited for the Ka'hyra, hands still cuffed behind her rounded back, to pass through.
For all her arrogance, Bryant knew she was right. His deep fondness for Palaven and its people was stronger than any interest he held for the biotics programs. Though he recognized that the new dark matter-wielding soldiers were an oppressed, mistrusted and unlucky group, he could not empathize with them as she could. It mattered little to him, though. The turian Cabals were highly effective biotic shock units, and he intended his human equivalent to be just as good. Once they had rid themselves of this mission and gotten some real work done, they would make a name for themselves. Maybe that would help the biotics get some respect too.
When he made it back into the steady heat and sunlight outside, Bryant felt his spirits lifting instantly. There was a lot of talk in Alliance high command about adapting turian military models and designs. This unit, his unit, would pioneer this initiative. Soon there would be numerous biotic units just like his, but none with a reputation so well-earned.
Ka'hyra sniffed at the air. "Don't forget about Tarius when you've put me behind bars, chief," she muttered. "He isn't finished with either of us, and once I'm locked away, he'll concentrate on you."
"I can't concern myself with turian terrorists," Bryant said dismissively. "Unless they attack humanity, of course," he added with a sharp look at her.
They both fell into silence then, until Ka'hyra shook a fallen blossom from her head.
"You have a fine unit, chief," she said simply. "May its spirit live as long as your Alliance."
Bryant's initial assumption was that the captive was being sarcastic with him, but after watching her face for a while he found no venom in her words. Her use of the word 'spirit' was interesting. It suggested that even though she had abandoned her homeworld, her people and her duty as citizen, she had kept her faith.
That much, at least, was commendable. Bryant himself had flirted with the religion, right after his dabbling with spiritualism and before his long, difficult year behind a desk as the Navy's only practicing Buddhist. All three of those faiths had failed to give him the sense of purpose that the military had, and he had given up on them.
Now he made up his own rules and philosophies, and served humanity. Resting his back and looking over the edge of the docking bay wall, he watched a lone, small bird he did not recognize diving between two lush, green hills. After a moment, Ka'hyra Velotto turned her head and watched, too.
It seemed that, for the moment, she had given up trying to analyze and antagonize him. Letting himself breathe slowly and tying to forget for the moment about what had happened to poor Chief Sang, he settled himself and looked forward to the next hour or two he had on the planet.