Memories of Bysorrn: Troubled Waters
Dylan Shepard is adjusting to his assignment to an all-turian crew in his promotion to shore patrol, having completed a probationary period as lifeguard. His commanding officer assures him that their races may yet have a chance for real peace, but they will soon make a discovery that may threaten that peace…
The silver and white arrow shape of the shore patrol craft skimmed and hopped across the spray of the waters, banking around a craggy protrusion before travelling further out into the ocean. The sure hands of the young turian at the helm then leveled out the craft to a path parallel to the shoreline. Her captain standing alongside marked down additional waypoints and notes on the blue-lit holomap in front of him.
"Course change complete," she barked out.
The captain glanced down at the holomap again. They were passing near one of the commercial spaceports that serviced cargo ships from all over Council space. He switched on the craft's com system.
"Now entering Zone Three-Five," he announced "Spotters on deck: status report."
"Clear!" responded each of the lookouts in turn on the bow, stern and starboard sides.
"All is well, Sir!" said the lookout on port.
"Very good," said the captain before he switched off the com. "Maintain course, Tierken."
"Yes, Sir," said the helmsman as her superior left the bridge.
The bronze-hued turian stepped out onto the craft's starboard side and rested his hands on the safety railing. He took in the mid-morning panorama of sparse ribbon clouds strewn across the pale blue sky and the bright white sun on its arc. Droplets from the water vapor of the craft's wake dotted his facial plates and mandibles. Strond Vellisir could not resist closing his eyes and drawing in a lungful of air through his nostrils, savoring the taste of its mix with the ocean. He had patrolled these waters for years and knew every curve, stretch and port but never grew ill of them. He exhaled and proceeded sternward when he heard a stifled moan that lacked the metallic resonance of his species' vocalizations. He looked down to his right to see a sandy blond, bearded human seated with his back against a bulkhead, one arm wrapped about his torso. Two crewmembers making their rounds cast a passing glance at their new rescue operative, stopping a short distance away to watch as he palmed and swallowed a seasickness pill. Their chuckling and pointing got his attention as well as their captain's. Vellisir snapped his chin up at them, sending them shuffling on their way. As they left the human's eyes followed them, narrowing slightly as he exhaled.
"Shepard…"
Dylan Shepard glanced upwards "… Captain…"
Vellisir cocked his head towards where the other sailors stood "It's not what you think. Those two were just as queasy when they started out. In time you'll be able to move between land and sea as easily as getting in and out of a chair."
"Might take a little longer for me - I grew up around woodlands… lake fishing was about the extent of my nautical experience."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. It's only your third day…"
Dylan gave a chuckling groan as Vellisir continued "How have you been getting on with the rest of your orientation? Have you been brought up to speed on equipment and procedures?"
"Kulz actually acknowledged me today without grumbling," Dylan recalled "I think I'm finally starting to grow on him."
"You'll have to be patient with Mr. Tekelzan. He still sees your assignment here as some sort of cruel joke by the Hierarchy…"
"He's a First Contact veteran, isn't he?" Dylan surmised.
"Yes - lost a few good friends during the fighting. A fine medic, though. They talked him into transferring here to retain his services in a more 'civil' environment. For a while, it seemed to help him cope with his losses and to feel like he was doing some good again. Then the exchange program was instituted…"
"I was never involved… in the war…"
"He knows that. He also knows that you and the other humans are here to help, whether out of genuine good will or just following orders. Your file says you have an interest in psychology. Certainly you can appreciate the conflict he's grappling with?"
Dylan bobbed his head. The conversation was helping to take his mind off his nausea.
"When the situation calls for it, he will put it aside and perform his duty. Be sure to be at your best when you work with him. Kulz may surprise you."
"I'll try to be, Captain."
"We're all here to serve and protect the public good," Vellisir went on "Bury any prejudice, gripe or personal opinion you may have while you're on my ship. Everyone can see the placard when they come aboard."
Dylan focused on the deck by the entry port where the worn, gray placard was bolted down. "You told me you were going to translate it for me..."
Vellisir paused a moment "Right – forgive me. I forgot they're only instructing humans in the Osic dialect…"
The captain turned in the direction of the placard.
"Resheer-ec Qanas, Sunn Em'ane… Aboard This Vessel, All Are Family."
"A crew is a lot like a family," agreed Dylan "We may get on each other's nerves but we still cooperate, watch out for each other, do our part to keep the ship running and carry out the mission."
Captain Vellisir's mandibles twitched "It applies to everyone, Shepard. Not just the crew."
"Oh?"
"To the people we assist and rescue – family members who need our help. The officers and guests we allow on board – members who want to catch up, make sure we're well and acting as we're expected to. Even the criminals and misfits we apprehend – family who've gone astray, whom we try our utmost not to harm and, if we must, only to incapacitate them… to save them from themselves."
"That's a very benevolent philosophy you have, Captain."
"It's what my people believe, but you'll hear more about our discipline and military prowess. The ability to work together despite our differences is the beating heart of turian society. The familial spirit we foster here is an extension of that."
The turian captain looked to the ocean "Besides… it's dangerous to quarrel while in the grips of something greater than yourself. The ocean has a spirit all its own… and it can sense discord..."
Vellisir leaned against the railing and continued "I never really cared for space travel. They call it the ultimate freedom and it's often compared to the oceans. I can't possibly see how they're alike; space is far too chaotic. Out there you place all your faith in instrumentation to contend with celestial hazards. And when it fails, you're finished! Space requires a whole new physiology and mindset to navigate and thrive in it. As far as evolution is concerned, I'm just a dead end."
He gestured outwards at the waves "But here… here I find freedom balanced with order and gravity. If my kind is doomed to die out, I can think of no better grave than the ocean. It's the cradle where we first came into being. All life owes it a debt…"
Dylan sported a bemused grin as Vellisir turned to face him again "The landlock disagrees?"
"You remind me of the captains and pirates in the old human novels and vids talking about the sea" smiled Dylan. He then recited a quote from one of these works in a light imitation of the rolling brogue of those characters:
"A fickle beauty, she is. Some she favors and others she casts to the depths. Best to keep your wits about you! Learn to read the wind and the waves if you want to master her!"
"I don't consider myself a master of the ocean, Shepard," Vellisir snickered at Dylan's impression "More as being in harmony with it. I've felt its pull and come to admire its power and majesty since the days of my childhood. Some have even alleged that I may be part hanar… although I… did fancy a particular hanar a few years back…"
Vellisir's askance reference to his personal life garnered a puzzled look from Dylan. The turian captain straightened up.
"Said that aloud, did I? I'll say no more. As you're employed in the capacity of maintaining health and well being, Shepard, I trust you'll never allow me to get drunk enough to divulge details!"
The human snorted and shook his head, cackled twice and went quiet a moment before saying "As long as there are worlds with open waters, there'll always be a need for sea dogs to track us across them. Your kind is a proud and enduring tradition, Captain."
"It better well be or it would make leave an outright waste of time!"
"How so?" encouraged the human.
Vellsir leaned in a little and confided "Built a small sailing ship of my own, you see, with some help from friends and family. Call in favors to lug it to worlds with some promising expanses. It's got modern conveniences, of course, to deal with emergencies and the like, but not so many as to insulate you. I've sailed my ship on five planets so far, including this one. Once your species is officially granted an embassy, I look forward to taking it to your world. I understand it's over seventy percent water - 'the big, blue marble' is an apt description for it!"
Dylan was over his bout of seasickness, absorbed in his commanding officer's obsession with sailing. He mused over the idea of joining Vellisir on his excursion to Earth. Perhaps when that time came, Dylan would be used to the feel of the ocean and the rift between humans and turians would be healed enough to permit the journey and other joint ventures.
"That's my life's ambition: to sail the seas of every civilized world in Council space."
"With the suns and stars to guide you and the wind at your back," added Dylan "I hope you do get to sail on my homeworld one day."
"… If fate permits…"
"Captain!" the helm called out from inside the bridge.
Vellisir hurried over to her. Dylan stood up and trod over to the entrance, leaning in to listen.
"What is it, Tierken?"
"Another vessel, roughly three miles from our position" she replied. "It just lit up on the sensor grid out of nowhere."
The captain examined the holomap and activated the com "Mr. Hongren, did you not see a craft three miles out from us earlier?"
"No, Sir," replied the starboard lookout, who went silent for a moment "… I have it, now. It's just drifting in over the horizon line."
Vellisir scrolled the holomap display, noted the identification code on the ship, switched frequencies and tried to make contact. Preliminary information described it as a personal luxury craft, which had become a more common sight since the turian Hierarchy's efforts to rebrand Bysorrn as a resort world in addition to being a rest and refueling stop for freighters and transports. Vellisir was unable to reach anyone aboard.
"Looks like we're the closest to intercept… lay in a course with all speed, Tierken!"
Tierken's hands tapped out new instructions on her console "We're underway, Sir!"
As she ramped up the drive core, Vellisir changed com frequencies again "All hands: I need this ship prepped for a level two security sweep and a boarding party assembled immediately!"
His head spun to the bridge entrance "Shepard…"
"On my way, Captain!" acknowledged Dylan before leaving the doorway.
Minutes later the patrol craft was in range of the luxury vessel. Vellisir called out through an amplifier as the craft made a slow approach. Just as before, no response from any passengers or crew. Scans revealed a structurally sound hull, a powered down drive core and two lifeform readings in the lower cabins but no other irregularities of any kind. Dylan, Kulz and four other crewmen checked over their gear while a lookout made a sweep of the vessel through a sniper scope. Dylan was relieved to find that, true to Strond Vellisir's word, all their weapons used non-lethal concussion rounds. It was difficult for him to suppress command instincts, glancing and motioning to the others to see that they haven't overlooked anything in their preparations. His own rank of captain was more a token of respect these days. Since becoming a med tech, he took orders much more often than giving them.
Kulz tapped the human's arm "They know what they're doing, Shepard."
"Sorry, Tekelzan. Old habits." Dylan examined the pearl white, blue trimmed vessel that rivaled the patrol craft in size. "Sleek model…"
"Yeah, another one of the elite deciding to take themselves off grid for extra privacy and some offshore fun... or trouble" Kulz held up his service pistol "Hence the precautions."
"But they're still family who need help," Dylan recalled Vellisir's words "It shouldn't matter how many credit chits they've got lining their pockets."
"Still, you get the occasional 'family members' who like to take advantage. Repeat offenders who continue looking for trouble. One day they'll find it… and there may not be any family around to bail them out!"
Captain Vellisir gestured to the party lead from the bridge.
"We're clear to board," Kulz told Dylan "Have your databases loaded up?"
Dylan quickly checked his omni-tool "Check - queued and ready."
"Good. Keep your weapon up and cover Axon's rear during the sweep – he'll be your backup once we've secured the ship. Remember, perform med-scans only until our lead Tracton gives the all clear. Then we can work more directly with our patients."
"Got it," said Dylan as he armed his pistol.
"You're a lucky man - you get started off easy… probably won't find anything worse than two drunken idiots who think they can sing…"
Dylan snorted at Kulz's last comment as the patrol craft slowly pulled alongside. Two deck hands, each covered by a rifleman, deployed magnetic clamps to dock securely with the luxury craft. Tracton shouldered her rifle and ordered her party to form up behind her. Dylan took his place behind crewman Axon and the group of six climbed on board.
The boarding party turned up nothing further during their inspection. By all accounts, it was just a civilian craft with a foolish couple stranding themselves and getting in over their heads, searching for thrills. In the lower cabins, giggling was heard coming from one of the sealed compartments. Tracton motioned for the group to hang back slightly down the narrow hallway while she took position by a door and slowly palmed the lock. The compartment door hissed open, revealing a small cabinet beside a bed. A salarian was lying face down on it with undone and disheveled clothing. Sitting beside him was an asari with a flush complexion and purplish, bloodshot eyes wearing nothing more than an open, long sleeved shirt. She was not at all disturbed to be discovered in this fashion. Kulz made sure to move in just behind Dylan, keeping out of her line of sight, Dylan finding this move contrary to what he was instructed. He activated his omni-tool, setting it for salarian and asari physiology. The asari leaned over the unconscious salarian and tried to rouse him. Her partner only moaned and remained listless.
"Heeeeey…heeeylook – companeh!" she slurred and then looked over the team before stopping to squint at Dylan.
"Bagh! If dah puleece arnah geddin morah uptigh… theya geddin palea 'n squisheea!" She wagged a finger at him "Ye gah sumh… stuff on ya face, frienh…"
Tracton stowed her weapon and sighed "I don't think they pose a danger to anyone in their condition… see to them."
"Yes, ma'am" said Dylan as waved his omni-tool about the couple. They were highly intoxicated but had no physical injuries. The other boarding party members put away their weapons as well. Kulz deployed his own omni-tool to take readings but still kept position behind Dylan. Unconsciously, the human moved aside slightly in an attempt to be courteous and give the turian medic more clearance to work.
The asari took notice "Huh… KUL-ZEE! HIIIIYY!"
Kulz gave a low grumble. Dylan, flustered, tried to move to block him from view again.
"Tha yah nue frien, Kul-zee?" the asari needled "A-mah-zing! You saih you wunna be caugh deah nexa whun a dem…"
Tracton remained stoic but her teammates began to have more difficulty keeping their composure. Kulz muttered something unintelligible, prompting Dylan to sputter "Ma'am, please… if you… could – uh, Te-kelzan… maybe I should…?"
"By all means!" blustered Kulz.
Dylan awkwardly stepped over to the asari and took her arm, coaxing her off the bed and out of the sleeping compartment. Tracton cleared her throat to get her group to fall back in line and sent two away to prepare the ship for return to port as well as to make additional space in the hallway. Too weak to stand, the asari slumped down and propped against a nearby wall, swooning and tittering as Dylan continued examining her. He tried to make amends.
"I really don't know what to say…" he said aloud while using his omni-tool to examine her eyes, steadying her wobbling head with his free hand.
"Forget it, Shepard," dismissed Kulz as he turned the salarian over "I'm just cursed, that's all."
But Dylan would not let the matter rest "… It's a hell of a way to find out your girlfriend's been cheating on you…"
"With what she charges, I'm damn glad she isn't!" Kulz countered as he passed his device over his patient's chest, taking readings.
The human lowered his own device and started recalibrating for blood analysis only to pause in sudden comprehension.
"'What she charges…' You mean she's a…"
Tracton held up a hand to silence Dylan and nodded, directing him to the asari's left shoulder. Where it connected to her torso there was a small, vertical, ornate tattoo on the skin.
"…hooker?" he whispered.
The asari took offense and pulled at his chin "Thash 'es-kort' ta yue, mosh-fashe!"
Dylan grasped her arm and lowered it to her lap. "Alright, Miss. I just need to run one more test."
"I haaaf a nayme, ya kno" the asari's head swiveled "Izzz Se-naaah!"
"Well… Miss Sennah. You are on quite the long trip…"
"And in violation of your contract," added Tracton "You know it's forbidden to accept food or drugs directly from clients, medicinal or otherwise. The stipulation is for everyone's safety, especially your own! Second offense means suspension of license…"
Sennah pursed her lips and sprayed defiantly, sprinkling Dylan with drops of spittle. He shook her once to focus her attention on him again and used the back of his hand to wipe off. Kulz was then heard reporting on his progress.
"Well, I've managed to stabilize him" he said of the salarian "But we'll need to get him to a hospital for detoxification as soon as possible. All the readings point to a recreational drug cocktail. Indigo Lattice."
Dylan consulted the readouts on his omni-tool after testing Sennah's blood.
"Is this what I'm seeing here in her system?" he commented.
Kulz paced over and tapped out instructions on his device to synchronize with Dylan's, ignoring Sennah's flirting and eye batting. A small, three dimensional molecular model manifested for them both.
"That's it. A little of that mix can take you a long way. But it looks like our friend back here also took something else: a compound I've never seen before that's reacting with the Lattice. It could be a bad batch or a new drug hitting the market."
Dylan compared his blood work on Sennah with the salarian's; she did not take in any of the unidentified substance. Tracton leaned into the compartment to get a better look at Kulz's patient and something in her clicked.
"I know him – he's the evening rotation supervisor for the spaceport we pass on our route."
"Well, he won't be making his shift tonight, Ma'am" commented the turian medic.
Tracton gathered herself up "If there is a new drug out there, we have a possible venue for distribution. I'll report back to Captain Vellisir. You two keep our guests secure and out of any further mischief until we reach port."
As their lead departed, Kulz and Dylan helped Sennah up on her feet and walked her over to a vacant compartment. After they helped dress her, the asari rested on her own bed while Dylan went over the sensor logs again, scrutinizing a hologram of the Indigio Lattice mix along with the newly discovered compound. Changing the view angles, he could see how they almost melded perfectly. But something nagged him about the compound. He could not shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had seen it once before.
At his home late that evening Dylan was at his desk terminal, in a regulation-issue t-shirt and shorts, going through his messages. He eventually reached the last vidmail entry and piped the audio through his earpiece. The head of a bald, middle-aged dark tanned human with a goatee filled the screen. Other humans in uniform could be seen moving behind him.
(Hey, Dylan! It's Ozzy. Glad to hear you're getting your bearings on your new assignment. Funny story about that escort recognizing your medic friend as one of her clients… about that blood scan you did… I had a few of my guys run your samples through toxicology and chem. There's no question about it: tronomide, a depressant. It's one of ours. I'd like to pass it off as an isolated incident of some space truckers trading and sharing occupational aides, but there are reports of at least three more instances of human drugs turning up in alien hands. We've managed to keep it low key so far. What's more disturbing is that two of the buyers were like your spaceport master: well placed. Looks like someone from our side of the fence could be trying to set up shop. Damn peculiar since human cartels aren't exactly in love with the idea of doing business with anyone sporting blue skin or metal faceplates. Poor Schacter's got his colon in knots trying to figure out how to inform the Hierarchy without starting another war. Turians are supposed to value chivalry and cooperation… let's pray this works in our favor and we can stop this thing before it gets out of hand. You stay safe, Dylan…. Heh, sun, sand and surf… I wish I could be there with you. Give my best to Hannah and Cady. Take care…)
As Ozzy's image went into freeze frame, fingers slinked along Dylan's neck. He turned and grasped them, kissing each one with his eyes closed. He then looked up to his wife standing behind him, wearing a black silken camisole and matching underpants, stroking his hair with her other hand.
"Guess you had a busier day than I did," said Hannah "Come to bed."
She caught a hint of Dylan's vidmail as he closed it out along with the terminal "How's that knucklehead Ozzy doin?"
"He's good, he's good. He sends his best," her husband responded.
"Mmm… anything else? I didn't hear his message so I assume you boys were talkin' shop mostly. Things I shouldn't know about?"
Dylan wished he could tell her, but then Hannah would rightly see the bourgeoning scandal as an affront to her late mother's work. His wife was reluctant to discuss Olivia's death as well as to be involved in the exchange program with the turians. Dylan stressed that they would both be together with their daughter for the first time in years - the Alliance's key reason for keeping enlisted family members together while stationed on Bysorrn was to showcase the societal values both humans and turians had in common. Yet what seemed to bother Hannah was not working with non-humans but spending more time with her husband and Cadrina. Still, she later agreed to take part and appeared to be over her initial aversion. This news could serve to spiral her down into a state that Dylan was unsure he could deal with in her, wanting only her continued well-being.
"… I'll take your silence as yes."
Hannah massaged his neck and shoulders to put him at ease.
"All right… so that I don't have to hear you lie… and we can both sleep the night… can you at least tell me in good conscience that all necessary parties have been informed… that everything is being done to make sure it doesn't ruin our time together?"
"Yeah… everyone's on the alert…" Dylan breathed.
"Good" Hannah leaned into his ear "… cause I'm dying to test the new Enhanced Courtesy Mode feature in this bedroom!"
Hannah tugged Dylan's arm, up out of his seat. She backpedaled towards the bed slowly, undoing the buttons on her camisole as she led her husband by the hand.
"What if it isn't totally effective?" he said. "Cady's in the house, we're still settling in… what if she hears us?"
Hannah's voice turned more seductive "Dyl… it's the miracle of mass effect field technology…"
She let the camisole fall to the floor.
"… you can hold a rodeo in here and she'd never know it…"
She gently drew him closer and lightly kissed his neck.
"You wanted us together… you said it'd be good for us… I want you… to show me… just how good it can be…"
Their lips pressed and slid about each other. His hands taking hold of her neck and hip, her leg crooked and draped over his.
"You should start slow…quiet…" Dylan whispered as his forehead touched hers.
She folded her arms around his neck, eyeing him lustfully.
"…it's a delicate precision machine… it needs to warm up… slow and steady, you know that… then… you can really put it through its paces…"
"…saddle up, cowboy…" Hannah exhaled huskily, turning with Dylan as they fell onto the mattress on their sides. All thoughts of duty and impending crisis were put aside for the next morning as they lost themselves in each other.
END
Author's Thoughts and Notes:
- Okay… slight pause while we cool down… hey, they're happily married and it's been a while since they've been together! Hope the end of this story was still within the bounds of tastefulness…
- Strond Vellisir is based on actor Temuera Morrison (Jango Fett from Star Wars: Attack of the Clones)