DISCLAIMER – I do not own Mass Effect franchise, the story, or any of its characters. All rights go to Bioware.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I can't believe that I've actually been misspelling Pressly's name all this time until now! Why didn't anyone tell me?! Ugh... now I have to go back and fix all of that...
There was an issue with the site not displaying reviews for several days before they corrected it, so I had to wait to respond to any of your reviews. Fortunately, that matter was solved.
Nothing much to say about this chapter – just people from the Normandy meeting each other for the first time.
Chapter posted on 23.12.2016.
Tags: Action, Sci-fi, Adventure, Friendship building, Love.
Rated M – for mature and adult themes.
This is a long one. Brace yourselves…
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Chapter 10 – En route to Feros
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Marcus stood at the docks in front of the Normandy's airlock with Jaina at his side as he shook hands with Anderson and Hackett. The official handover of the Normandy was finished, and he was now its new commanding officer.
"I'll take good care of her, sir," Marcus assured Anderson.
"I'm sure you will, Marcus," the man replied with a smile. "This is your show, now, Spectre. Show them what you've got."
"He's right, Commander," Hackett spoke up. "You are now a fully independent force, and you are a force to be reckoned with. Use it wisely. I assume you will be going to Feros first?"
"I will, but I'm not liking our state of readiness. We are well stocked, but the problem is that it's standard Alliance gear that my teams are equipped with. Where we will be going, the standard gear won't just won't cut it; I need to procure advanced high-end equipment for my men."
"A reasonable stance," Hackett nodded. "On that matter, the Alliance has made contact with the colony of Zhu's Hope on Feros on the possibility of attack. They are not under attack yet, but the ExoGeni has agreed to step up its security and to maintain communication. If anything goes wrong, we'll know, so you will be free to gear-up your team accordingly for the oncoming missions. Do you have the funds you'd need for these purchases you've mentioned?"
"The Council has provided a fair amount of it. I think it will do," he replied.
"Good. However, in light of our yesterday's conversation, I have transmitted files concerning a few cases where your expertise would be of great assistance to the Alliance. Of course, Feros takes absolute priority, but if you were to take these assignments on, the Systems Alliance would be grateful – we would provide a not an insignificant fee. Considering that in lieu of the attack on Eden Prime our forces are stretched thin trying to secure our borders, money is not an issue – available forces are."
"I'll do what I can," Marcus assured them.
"We won't take any more of your time, then, Commander," Hackett spoke, to what they all exchanged final salutes and Hackett and Anderson walked away.
When they were well out of earshot, Jaina turned to Marcus.
"I think we should really consider taking these missions on," she said. "The Council may have transferred the initial funds, but we might quickly burn through it if we are to get all of the gear we plan to."
"I'm not regretting it," he said solidly. "Our standard Alliance gear is poorly suited for special missions. Except you, me, and Wrex, nobody around here has a full, top-of-the-line gear."
"True enough," she agreed.
"Well then, shall we go and meet our new team members in the conference room?"
"After you, sir," Jaina said with a smirk as she looked up at him.
Marcus chuckled. "Why do I like the way it sounds when it comes out of your mouth?" he asked rhetorically as he turned to walk into the ship's airlock.
"I wouldn't know what you mean, sir," she replied in feigned ignorance, while her eyes twinkled in amusement.
They passed through the CIC and went straight for the comm room. The six members of the new team were already there, and Marcus bid them all sit down on the chairs along the circular wall. Marcus and Jaina stood in front of the comm terminal, and he took a moment to look around the present faces.
"I'm glad to see you've all accepted to join us on this mission," he started. "We all know why we're here, and I brought you all here in this room so that we can get introductions out of the way.
"Starting from my far right are Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams and Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. They were with me on Eden Prime as a part of my response team for the retrieval of the Prothean beacon. Ashley is an exceptional soldier, a weapons specialist, and she is trained in piloting armored vehicles and Triton battle mechs. Kaidan is a biotic and has field technical expertise.
"Next to them is Dr. Liara T'Soni, a xenoarchaeologist. As this mission is expected to take us in search of lost Prothean technology that is in Saren Arterius's sights, her expertise will be invaluable. Though Dr. T'Soni has not had any formal military training, her biotic skills are, however, formidable, and she has honed them through the years of ruins exploration in the unstable regions.
"On the other side is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. She's the best we have on this ship in terms of technical expertise, and is also the closest thing we have to an expert on Geth – and we will be facing those a lot. She's trained to use pistols and shotguns, and I know for a fact that she can handle herself in a fight.
"Next to her are Garrus Vakarian and Urdnot Wrex. They have helped me save Tali from Saren's men. Garrus was a sniper in the turian Special Forces, as well as explosives, tech, and weapons expert. Wrex is a biotic, a battlemaster and a mercenary, and has had centuries of combat experience. He knows his way around the far Skyllian Verge, the Attican Traverse, as well as the Terminus systems – should we ever need to go there.
"As you can see, I have chosen all of you for a reason. Each of you has the unique set of skills that can prove essential for the success of this mission. Each of you was tempered in the field of combat in one way or another, and each of you knows how to pull his own weight."
He paused for effect, looking at each of them, in turn, to make sure they all were paying close attention, and then spoke:
"However, what we face now will surpass each of our individual capabilities. Individually, each of us might be the most tech savvy, or the toughest, or the one with the most experience, but I'm confident in the fact that the enemy we face – a rogue Spectre allied with killing machines, mercenaries, and biotic commandos – will have a way to counter each and every one of us individually. I want you to look at each other's faces now; that man's or woman's presence might prevent an enemy bullet from reaching you… and that accounts for something."
He waited for a few moments as the people's eyes wandered from one face to another's, and then spoke again:
"If any one of you is in need of anything – be it specialized equipment, help with anything, information, or anything mundane for that matter – talk to me, or Jaina, and we will provide it for you if it is possible. Same goes for any complaint or problem; talk to us, and it will be resolved one way or the other. Any questions?"
People were silent.
"Alright, then we're finished here. You are free to go about anywhere on the ship, as long as you don't interfere with crew's activities. Dismissed."
The people stood up from their seats and filed out of the room one by one.
"So, now what?" Jaina asked.
Marcus leaned with his back against the wall and crossed his arms in contemplation.
"I'm worried about our timeframe," he said. "It would take time finding proper armor and weapons, even worse if we're to modify them properly, and Saren is already two days ahead of us."
Jaina tapped her forefinger joint against her chin, thinking. "Well, true, Saren might be two days ahead, and the recording does indicate that he wants to attack Feros – but like Admiral said, nothing has happened with the colony yet. We'll be the first to know if it does. Waiting on Feros, as opposed to preparing accordingly, might have an adverse effect."
"Point taken," he agreed, then seemed to think on something.
"Whatcha thinking about?" she prompted him.
"About what type of gear do we actually pick up," he said. "Rosenkov materials, Kassa Fabrication, Armax Arsenal – all of those come to mind, but I think none of their items might be good enough for what we need; for what I want."
Jaina smiled, nodding in understanding. "You want something that can be heavily modded."
"Yeah," he confirmed. "Guns and rifles like Karpov, Breaker or Viper are good, but they're not designed for what I need. I need something with a heavy punch, and I do mean heavy."
"Something like your Mattock?"
"Yeah, something like my Mattock," he nodded. "A gun like that requires four times the amount of eezo and interlocked mass-effect fields to reduce recoil – a very expensive stuff, usually; but I have the means now." He spent a moment in silence, before he added, "And I have Spectre Access now."
He straightened out from where he was leaning and turned to access the terminal behind him. The screen activated as he accessed the high-level C-Sec network, sending out his credentials and entering the usually highly-restricted areas.
"Executor Palin spoke of this," he said as he typed the browsed. "He said that Spectres have access to some extremely rare stocks that C-Sec holds for them… there we go," he said as the search results displayed on the screen.
"Oh, wow," Jaina said, her eyes glinting as she leaned in to examine the screens. Rows upon rows of wonderful, wonderful weapons were displayed for their scrutiny.
"I'll say," he said, smirking.
She watched as Marcus marked a crate each of M-96 Mattocks, M-4 Shuriken SMGs, and RMP-12 Karpov heavy pistols. Her eyes then widened in alert when she noticed something, making her lean forward.
"There, right there!" she exclaimed as she pointed her finger at the item of interest.
"M-12 Locust," he murmured. "Four pieces in stock."
"That thing rips through shields as if they were tissue!" she spoke vehemently as she grabbed his bicep tightly. "You know what my Locust is like!"
"Right, and its light and accurate," he agreed, marking one of them.
"No, no, all four – please?!" she urged in a honey-sweet voice, giving him with her best puppy-eyed look. "You know how rarely they're found."
He laughed heartily. "Why can't you be like all those other girls that crave designer shoes instead?" he wondered sarcastically.
Her response was a quick peck on his cheek.
He chuckled and marked the Locusts down, then browsed further, marking a crate of semi-automatic sniper rifles, and a pair of anti-materiel ones. He switched to weapon mods and bought several assault and sniper rifle barrel extensions as well as heat sink materials, and then he purchased no less than two hundred grams of element zero. Jaina whistled.
"You're really going all out," she commented. "Do you think there'll be enough credits for it all?"
"There will be," he assured her. "We'll have to skip on the high-quality armor, though… but I have a few ideas on how to improve what we already have – hence all that eezo, as well as… this…"
"High-grade armor powergrid and mass effect arrays," Jaina finished for him.
"So that the shield emitters don't burnout once they're upgraded with the more powerful core," he said.
"We could purchase some lightweight armor augmentation plating," she ventured.
He seemed to think on it for a moment before he shook his head.
"No. The added weight might not be much as far as our team is concerned, but the additional plating is bulky; it may mess up with motor flexibility."
"Fair enough," she said. "Then we just have to wait until additional funding passes through and buy our people better armor later on."
"True," he said and finished it all off by making a bulk purchase on the site.
"That'll put a dent in our account," she commented when she saw the total price.
"Maybe, but this will be worth it," he said, then noticed the reply had already arrived. "Huh. They say they'll have the merchandise at our loading bay in thirty minutes."
"Spectre credentials make it a fast work," she said.
"Must be," he concurred, then sighed. "As soon as all of it's there, we're embarking on to Attican Beta. I intend to spend as much time as possible modifying those weapons. How long do you think the trip will last?"
"Well, Feros is in Attican Beta cluster, but is not in a mass relay system," she said. "I'd have to consult the navigation system be precise, but if I'm not mistaken, the shortest route to Attican Beta is via three primary relay pair jumps; it will definitely be longer than a day, even with Normandy's speed."
"Alright," he nodded. "It might actually give me enough time to do some work modding the weapons. You finish with all pre-flight checkups, and I'll go to wait for the new cargo."
They left the comm room and separated as he went down toward the cargo hold, and she stepped up onto the command post in front of the Galaxy map. As Marcus descended, Jaina contacted him over private comms.
"I've just confirmed our flight path," she said. "We'll have to take three jumps to the Attican Beta, plus a journey at FTL cruise from Hercules to Theseus system. It will take us approximately thirty-two hours to get to Feros."
"That sounds good," he replied. "We'll see how circumstances develop."
He ended the call, and then descended down into the cargo hold and waited for the transport with the purchased weapons and mod materials to arrive. He noticed Wrex setting up a larger-than average cot in one corner, Garrus filing his things into his locker, and Ashley doing maintenance on her rifle.
Garrus noticed him, and immediately stood up from his work and walked over.
"Commander, I wanted to ask you something," he ventured.
"Shoot," Marcus nodded.
"I've noticed the armored vehicle you have here, the M-35 Mako. Will we be using it extensively during our missions?"
"That is a safe assumption, yes," Marcus nodded. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, I've noticed that the vehicle sports a bit of dust," he immediately raised his hands. "Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a nitpicker; it's just that something like that shows that nobody is taking care of it at the moment."
"Quite a detective, huh," Marcus nodded approvingly, then looked to the Mako. "You're right, though. It would have normally been the driver's and gunner's duty to take care of the vehicle, but this Mako was transferred to the Normandy straight out of the assembly line; it never had its crew assigned. Its adaptive camo is still in its default factory white, as you see."
"If that's the case," Garrus ventured, "would it be alright if I could do some checkups on the vehicle? Especially since we'll be entrusting our lives to it? I was thinking that some calibrations to the main gun might not hurt."
"That's actually a great idea," Marcus said. "Knock yourself out!"
"Thank you, Commander, you won't regret this," Garrus said gratefully, then returned to finish his unpacking.
Marcus looked around and noticed Wrex examining one of the two Triton mechs that stood in the corner of the cargo hold.
"I'm afraid you wouldn't fit inside," Marcus commented as he approached him.
"Didn't intend to," Wrex rumbled as he walked around the armored walker. "I'm not sure what's the purpose of this thing. Us krogan don't have the need for something like this… not this tiny, anyway…"
"That's for holding the line or breaking through one," Marcus said. "It was designed as urban warfare frontline unit – meant to soak up the enemy fire while dishing out quite a bit of punch and covering fire for the infantry to maneuver around."
"Hmph," Wrex grunted in acknowledgement. "That's what you humans tend to do, alright. You never go for a straight up fight."
"Why should we?" Marcus asked, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Why should anyone? Flanking the enemy, striking from ambush – that means we kill more of him, while he kills less of us."
"And that's a wise method," Wrex replied, slightly surprising Marcus. "Don't get me wrong, Shepard, I like a good straight up fight every now and then. But when it comes to fighting for survival – now that's where you gotta get smart. You gotta strike the enemy hard and low, and receive the least punches while doing it. It's what krogan keep forgetting these days. It's actually what the turians are forgetting as well. And salarians and asari? They just keep dodging. No defensive line at all – just hit and run, hit and run… they don't get it, but it has cost them a lot more than the victories can account for. You, humans, are the only ones who mix it up, using all available tactics. I'd like to see where it takes you."
"Well, you'll get your chance soon enough, I think," he said noncommittally, before looking around to where Wrex had settled his sleeping cot and pointing with his chin toward it. "You settled in alright? You sure you don't want us to find you a better place somewhere on the crew deck?"
"I'll pass," he replied. "I like to keep close to where the guns are at."
Marcus shrugged. "Suit yourself."
He left Wrex to his devices and descended down the opened cargo bay ramp to wait for the incoming cargo.
Truth to their words, the C-Sec's armored truck was there in less than thirty minutes. It was escorted by an armed security detail under the close eye of a pair of C-Sec cruisers, as was the case with any increased amount of armament. Marcus checked the contents of every crate that were being arranged on the ground and verified the weapons' and mods' quality with his omni-tool. Same went for the materials and eezo he had brought, the latter being carried in an armored safe casing.
He called up several of the marines to take over the loading of the weapons and materials as he finished with the C-Sec officer in charge of the shipping, and then he walked back into the cargo hold, activating his comm.
"Jaina, we're through here. Are the pre-flight checks complete?"
"All systems green, everything accounted for," she replied right back.
"Spin the engines up. We're leaving for Feros immediately."
He ended the comm, and heard the sound of claxons as Jaina's voice sounded over the intercom:
"All hands, prepare for lift off."
The cargo bay ramp raised itself up and closed with a dull clunk, cutting off the outside noise of the engines that were spinning up.
"Where do you want these weapons, Commander?" Corporal Reigns called as he and other marines lugged the crates.
"There, by the fabricator," he said, pointing in general direction of the machine that could fabricate most of the parts a ship like this needed.
He journeyed up into the CIC and met up with Jaina who descended the command post and stood next to it.
"I think it's the time we address the crew and explain exactly the scope of our mission," Jaina said silently. "They've picked up by now that this is big, but they need to know just how big."
He nodded. "You're right."
He walked up on the command platform and cast his eyes on his post for the first time. Along the length of the railing in front of him, direct control terminals with holographic control panels were arrayed, and the Galaxy map spun slowly down in front of him.
He switched from the Galaxy map to the general captain's tactical overview, then tapped the ship-wide intercom. He passed one look around the CIC, noting people looking up from their posts at him. He spoke:
"Men and women of the Normandy, this is your commander speaking.
"As of this moment, we are on our way toward the deep regions of the Attican Traverse. Our mission is clear: to stop a man that has wrought havoc upon one of our worlds. You've seen the destruction; you've seen the bodies. But what happened on Eden Prime was just the beginning."
He paused, looking around the CIC, noticing he had everyone's attention. He continued:
"As of this moment, all of Normandy's personnel and ground teams' clearances have been elevated to intelligence level 4 for the purposes of this mission. What I am about to tell you goes far beyond the scope of everything you've ever faced or thought was possible."
Murmurs echoed around the CIC, the faces of the crew in utter astonishment. He counted on that.
"Approximately 24 hours ago, the Alliance and Citadel had intercepted an audio recording on which Saren Arterius discusses his plans with his most trusted accomplices. What we have heard was not pretty. According to the recording, Saren has uncovered the truth behind the Prothean's extinction some time ago. A species of extremely advanced sentient machines – what is currently believed to be a Prothean version of the Geth – was the one that systematically hunted them down to extinction, after which the machines had retreated to unknown regions of space. The Protheans called them the Reapers… and Saren's goal is to bring them back. Geth follow him because they believe that the Reapers represent the apex of synthetic evolution, and wish to elevate themselves to their level.
"I know what many of you are thinking. You're thinking of how crazy it sounds. If we never caught Saren on tape declaring his goals, we would have thought so too. Saren's goal on Eden Prime was the Beacon, as you all know. He wanted it because the Prothean beacon held one piece of the puzzle to finding and bringing the Reapers back."
He looked around the present faces, his gaze piercing into them all, his voice when he spoke rough and firm.
"Now, I want you to think carefully: would a man like Saren manage to gather Geth to his side if there was no truth to this? Would the Geth tolerate him? And would Saren be able to achieve such total victory on Eden Prime if he has gone crazy?"
One could hear a pin drop.
"That is why I had volunteered to interact with the Beacon we had rescued from Eden Prime," Marcus said. "I have seen everything that Saren has seen, and it was not good. Whatever had happened to the Protheans, it was the war of their extinction."
He took a deep, contemplating breath before continuing:
"Officially, the Council is skeptical concerning all this, and cites it as an excuse to not focus everything they have into stopping the most dangerous man – a traitorous Spectre! – from making far greater destruction than what he has done so far. But the truth is far simpler than that. The truth is that they do not have the guts, grit or balls that we have.
"So, while the Council cowers in fear from being attacked by Terminus factions, and while our own fleets are scrambling to protect our worlds from further attacks, we are the ones who are being sent to exact justice. We are the ones that have the true grit. We, on this ship, no matter what species we are, represent the best that this Galaxy has to offer, and we fly the best and most advanced ship that this Galaxy has ever seen.
"Our ship is a silent Hunter-Killer that dreadnoughts will fear as we stalk them from the unseen shadows. We will hunt, we will prowl, we will track Saren relentlessly wherever he goes. We will make him remember that primal fear of the things that lurk in the dark. We will be the ones that strike him down.
"So, follow me, and I will show you that even a Spectre is just a man. Follow me, and I will show you just how powerful you truly are. Shepard out!"
He closed the intercom, and the moment he did, a loud cheer erupted throughout the ship. It dumbfounded him for just a moment. He cast his eyes across the CIC, noting the fierce and solid looks that the people were sending his way, and all he could do was make a nod of recognition before he turned and stepped down from the command platform.
"I didn't expect that," he spoke quietly as he stepped next to Jaina, so only she could hear him.
"You're gonna have to get used to it," she replied with a small smile.
"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.
Jaina thought on it, then spoke: "I'll explain sometime later, in private." She then smiled broadly when she saw his look of suspicion. "It's nothing bad; you'll just have to simmer a bit longer," she said with a shake of her head.
Marcus sighed.
"Alright," he acquiesced. "I'll busy myself down in the armory for the better part of the day. You have the bridge."
"Yes, sir," she replied formally.
Marcus stood in front of the fabricator as the machine went through its warm-up stage. He glanced down into the crate of M-96-s as he mentally reviewed the procedures needed to modify the weapons and the approximate time needed to complete them.
"All systems operational," the fabricator's VI called out.
Marcus activated his omni-tool and navigated through the data folders, bringing up the ones he had prepared, labeled "Mattock Auto v-3.05". He waved the omni-tool in front of the VI holo display, and spoke:
"Copy the data of the marked folder, unpack the model files and prepare for manufacturing."
He picked up the first M-96 from the crate and disassembled it on the workbench in short order, and then assessed the parts.
The laymen would say that the Mattock was different from other rifles out there because of its semi-automatic firing mode and larger rounds that held greater impact. But those people knew shit; the rounds weren't even larger than a standard rifle round, in fact.
In reality, the M-96's main difference from other rifles is its incredibly simple, yet incredibly robust operating mechanism. Its principle was not different from any other mass accelerator weapon, except that it had more eezo in its core, thus generating more punch. A lot more punch, in fact. An M-7 Lancer round delivered about 10 kilojoules of kinetic impact energy on bore exit. An M-96 generated 50! The recoil was much more powerful than an average rifle, but the Mattock was incredibly stable and precise – meaning that the thing only kicked back into the shoulder, without having a significant muzzle climb.
And that was what he sought. The Lancer was an inherently unstable rifle because of its high-mounted bore. If the Lancer had the Mattock's strength, it would experience a serious and uncontrollable muzzle climb. The Mattock modified to fire full auto, therefore, would be the weapon he would equip his ground team with.
Marcus grabbed the armored case that held a canister of eezo, then opened it and inserted the canister into the appropriate slot. He then grabbed a brick of heat sink material and placed it into another slot of the machine.
"Begin simultaneous production of the mass effect core modules, mass effect arrays, trigger mechanism, and heat sink systems provided by the files," he said, then took the disassembled Mattock's old mass effect core module and placed it into another slot. "Also, extract eezo from every module inserted into the extraction port from here on until specified differently."
"Affirmative," the VI replied.
Marcus then took a secondary fabricator and copied the relevant files from its omni-tool into it. This fabricator was smaller, workshop-grade, meant for breaking down items into omni-gel and was usually used for rebuilding damaged weapon casings or similar gear.
A superheated silicate-carbide "hardlight" box flashed into existence above the fabricator unit, and Marcus inserted the disassembled parts of the Mattock's casing into it and then activated the breakdown. Powerful micro-warp fields and searing heat of the flash-forged breakdown box began to melt the components into a paste before sucking it into the device's bowel and transforming it into omni-gel. As the new material was being readied, he tasked the fabricator to begin rebuilding the new, only slightly altered casing with the design specs he had inputted.
The two fabricators worked slowly and steadily, and Marcus took pleasure as he watched the fully shaped parts slowly emerging into the light of day as they were printed.
"Set one – complete," the big fabricator's VI announced a few minutes later.
He waited while the parts cooled down a bit, then picked them up and placed them in an orderly fashion on top of the workbench, making sure each of them passed his visual inspection. His eyes lingered the most on the absolutely massive new eezo core unit.
And then, he began with the reassembly of the brand new weapon.
New trigger system went in first. New eezo core followed, going into the body above and behind the main grip. Powerful mass effect arrays went in on the either side of the bore rail. Phasic oscillators for phased ammo clipped on over the bore length. Ammo-shaving ring-shaped array over the rail breech. Lower back stock casing. Upper back stock casing. Upper front casing. Sights. Lower bore. Detachable heat sink system incorporated above the foregrip. He-3-based battery into the handle grip through its bottom. Ammo block inserted into the lower back of the stock.
He clicked the safety off and pulled the action lever.
It was ready.
He raised the new weapon and scrutinized it for a long moment, almost like an ancient swordsmith. Only this weapon was deadlier. Far deadlier. His gaze roamed the gun, visualizing and appreciating the raw power that was hidden within, feeling accomplishment at what he has achieved with it.
"Well, that looks a bit different," Ashley suddenly spoke up somewhere off behind him as she looked at the new weapon.
Marcus turned to look at her and noticed that all of the specialists he had brought onto the Normandy – Wrex, Garrus, Tali, Liara, as well as Kaidan – were there as well.
"Hey there," he greeted them all. "You need me for something?"
"Some of us actually came to deposit our combat gear at our lockers," Liara said, smiling sheepishly as she pointed to the bag she has brought. "And we ended up grouping together when we saw you working."
"We didn't mean to be intrusive, Commander," Kaidan said defensively, briefly raising his hands. "It's just that we were interested in what you're doing."
"If you don't mind me asking, Commander," Garrus spoke up. "What have you done with that Mattock?"
"Yeah, we've noticed you've placed some seriously weird parts inside, and out," Ashley said. "It looks different."
Marcus returned his eyes to the weapon and nodded in affirmation of Ashley's assessment. It looked almost the same as the standard Mattock: same shape, same dirty white color, but the prominent heat dissipation panels – parts of the detachable heat sink clip system – that filled the once empty area between upper and lower bores gave a different, more muscular look to the weapon.
"Here," Marcus said and offered the weapon to her. "What do you think?"
Ashley picked up the weapon and weighted it in her hands.
"It's heavy," she said with a raise of her eyebrows, then placed it against her shoulder and aimed down the sights. "It's even heavier than the standard Mattock. What have you done to it?"
"I made it fully automatic, among other things," he replied.
"Mattock has twice as powerful round than any standard assault rifle," Wrex said, narrowing his eyes. "If all you've done is adjust its trigger mechanism for a full auto fire, it's gonna thrash like a pack of mating varren!"
"Not exactly the words I'd use," Ashley spoke slowly as she gave a guarded look to the large krogan. "But yeah, skipper – won't this thing go all over the place when I shoot?"
"No," Marcus stated with a quick shake of his head. "I've given it a five times more powerful eezo core. The inertial dampening puts its level above that of Armax's Crossfire line."
"So, that canister over there really is eezo?" Garrus commented, looking toward the fabricator. "Expensive. Never thought I'd see anyone put so much money into an assault rifle."
"Definitely not something any ordinary army would supply its troops with," Kaidan commented, looking at others present.
"Neither is it something any ordinary merc would have the funds for, which is why you won't see it there, either," Wrex added.
"And it's not like you could just go about extracting eezo from every gun you find lying about and putting it into a newly-fabricated core container," Tali explained as she looked around others. "That's the quickest way to have it blow up in your face, or if you're lucky to just burn out the arrays. You need to calculate the ratios. You need to experiment. Building a gun is not as easy as it seems." She turned her eyes in wonder toward Marcus. "I had no idea you know so much about tech stuff, Commander; I had no idea you had the knack."
Marcus leaned back against the workbench, crossing his arms and shrugging. "I picked up a few things here and there. It served as a good basis for when I went on to get a master's engineering degree from the Alliance Navy."
"You have a high university education?" Liara exclaimed in surprise.
"So does Jaina," Marcus replied with a shrug as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Hers is a different field, though."
There was a moment of pause.
"And yet you're both Spec-ops soldiers?" Ashley exclaimed wide-eyed.
Marcus sighed, shaking his head with a small tired smile. "Why is it that whenever someone says "Spec-Ops soldier", everybody immediately assumes that they're supposed to be a narrow-minded grunt with challenged mental capacities?"
"Ah… s-sorry, Skipper, I-I didn't mean it like that!" Ashley quickly stepped up to correct herself. "I mean, I understand that people are complex. I can drill a man between the eyes at a hundred meters, but I still like to read and recite classical poetry, and I… I… did not just say that out loud…"
"Fraid you did, Ash," Kaidan muttered with a wry smirk, to her horrified looks.
"I don't get it," Wrex commented to Garrus, Tali and Liara. "You get it?"
"Must be a human thing," Liara said.
"In any case, Commander," Garrus spoke up slowly, drawing Marcus's attention and wisely changing the subject back. "Would you mind telling us what is it exactly that you did with this gun?"
Marcus outstretched his arm to Ashley, wordlessly asking for the rifle back with a flick of his fingers. She returned the rifle, and he promptly went through the paces, disassembling it in short order and talking through the modded parts.
"Modifying the trigger mechanism for a full auto fire was the simplest thing," he said. "Just tweak the power switch circuitry, and you're good to go. The increased mass effect core splits the load into three parts: enhanced round velocity and weight, inertial dampening, and using the mass effect to capture heat buildup and pump it into new and enhanced heat sinks. The heat sinks surround the upper and lower bore, right above the fore grip, and can be unclipped – like so – from the gun, and quickly replaced with another identical clip so that it resets the heat saturation. Basically, if by any chance you've been maintaining such a sustained fire that the heat sink is oversaturated, you just unclip it and replace it with a new and cool one to keep firing, while clipping the old one to your closest available mag plate to cool off."
As he finished reassembling and priming the rifle, and returned it to slack-jawed Ashley, there was utter silence among the crew.
"Damn… now that's impressive!" Garrus stated, pointing a finger at Marcus, then looking at others. "How come no one ever thought of such replaceable heat sinks?"
"No idea," Marcus said truthfully, shaking his head helplessly. "If you think about it, this seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to me."
Tali hopped in place excitedly.
"Yes, but I can't believe that you've managed to rig that kind of forced-action heat sink system using mass effect fields!" she exclaimed. "It's like your ship's stealth system, only much more rudimentary – except, instead of trapping the heat in the heat sinks, it deliberately dissipates it. But nobody else thought of using it in the gun! It must be able to fire far more shots before overheating!"
Marcus nodded. "I've designed it to be able to fire over two hundred rounds in a single sustained burst before reaching heat oversaturation limit," he said, then inclined his head. "If it was firing normal rounds, that is."
"Wait, you're telling me this thing is not firing normal rounds?" Garrus asked softly.
"Skipper," Ashley spoke up with a broadening grin and a maniacal glint in her eyes as she clutched the rifle closer to her bosom. "Are you telling me it fires the explosive rounds like your own gun?"
Marcus had to smirk at her expression. "Yeah, though not like a standard high-explosive round mod. That one is mounted on top of the bore and pumps mass-effect oscillating fields as the round passes. This one uses mass effect emitters on the outside of the bore chamber to do the same thing – a trickier thing to construct, but you can put an additional standard ammo mod. And it pumps the larger-than-average pellet – which reminds me: the larger round means the shaving block has only about four hundred rounds worth of material in it, rather than the standard two thousand, so…"
"Doesn't matter. Can I keep it?" Ashley asked as she practically unconsciously pressed the weapon protectively against her bosom.
"Be my guest, Chief," Marcus chuckled. "I'll be making that weapon for the entire team, anyway. They'll be ready before we reach Feros."
"Before Feros?" Garrus asked skeptically. "I see that it took you a short while to construct one model… But how did you manage to make modifications of such an extent in such a quick manner?"
"Because it took me over two years to perfect it with my own gun," Marcus said. "I've spent countless hours at my terminal or omni-tool, making the 3D models and analyzing their work, having some of it explode in my face a few times until I perfected it… What I did here was just uploading the already-existing blueprints and letting the machine work."
"If that's the case," Garrus spoke as he stepped up, "can I work with you? I'd be really interested in making one, especially since I believe some calibrations might be in order."
Marcus looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. You can build your own rifle. But that Mako will also need some work if we're to use it on Feros."
"Don't worry," Garrus assured him calmly. "That too will be done."
"I don't doubt," Marcus said, smirking as he picked up an M-96 from the crate and tossed it to Garrus who caught it deftly with one hand.
"You know, Skipper," Ashley spoke slowly from where she moved to place her new rifle at the farther end of the weapons workbench, "I don't think we can call this rifle a Mattock anymore. It should have a new name."
"She's right," Garrus intoned pointedly as he turned to look back at him.
Marcus looked around the group, looking at their expectant faces. Even Wrex, hardened and practical as he was, was looking at him. Marcus spoke up,
"N7 Striker."
There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed the new name.
"I'm gonna call you Dink," Ashley addressed her N7 Striker, making everyone look at her strangely.
"Dink?" Kaidan parroted with a grimace.
"That's right. Because when the enemy comes, I'm gonna dink 'em," Ash declared proudly.
Kaidan opened his mouth, and then closed it, with an audible click of his jaw, and a troubled look on his face.
Wrex's roaring laughter filled the cargo hold.
Marcus chuckled with everyone else before he turned to Garrus.
"Come on," he motioned with his head, and the turian followed.
The two men stepped up to the workspace, and Marcus proceeded to guide Garrus through the process as he himself took up another M-96 and proceeded with disassembling it as the turian followed his work.
It was a quick and easy to fashion all of the needed Strikers. Between the high-end military fabricators and Garrus being a quick learner, his rifle was done just as fast as Marcus had assembled the third one. The turian proceeded to disassemble and reassemble his rifle a few times, acquainting himself with its parts, weight, as well as applying maintenance oils.
And when all of the Strikers were finished, he didn't stop. The crate that held the remaining M-96-s was closed down, and the one with the four M-12 Locusts was opened up.
Marcus worked quickly, picking up one weapon, examining it, disassembling it, making sure that this weapon was the same subtype Jaina used. Five times more expensive than an average SMG, the weapons was an engineering masterpiece. Still, a few simple modifications to the framework, an extended barrel, and the mass-effect-pumped heat sinks would still be needed for the people using it had the greatest possible advantage.
He uploaded the files to the fabricators and issued the production command for the two sets of modified Locust parts. Thirty minutes later, both of the weapons were sporting their new looks.
Just as he had finished clasping the barrel extension onto the other Locust, he heard Liara's voice from behind him:
"Commander, can I have a word with you?" she asked.
"Of course," he said as he placed the SMG on the desk and turned toward her, leaning against the desk and folding his arms across his chest. "Just the person I wanted to find, anyway. But by all means – go ahead first!"
Liara clasped her hands behind her back and cast her eyes to the ground for a split second. Her foot was fidgeting slightly – betraying the nervousness of a young woman.
"I couldn't help but see that you had modified several rifles for our use," she started, and slowly raised her eyes to look up at him. "However, I am not entirely sure I'd be able to use one properly. I've held the rifle in my hands, and I find it to be a bit… heavy for me. Being untrained in ways of the soldier, and being a biotic to boot, well… it doesn't exactly mix well with heavy loads."
"I understand," Marcus nodded. "I wasn't expecting you to use it anyway, but I wanted you to have the option."
"Thank you, Commander," she said with obvious relief and relaxation of her posture. "I was hoping that it wouldn't offend you since you've taken the time; I wasn't sure if I should consider it a gift or something else… I don't have a lot of experience with humans or their customs."
"You don't have to worry about such things with me, Doctor," Marcus replied. "I take little care for perceived offensive content, and take a lot of care for my people to be equipped for all situations. Speaking of which – what kind of field gear do you use, anyway?"
"I… can show you if you'd like," she pointed with her hand invitingly toward her locker.
Marcus nodded and stood up from where he was leaning against the workbench, and followed her to her gear locker. He did a quick examination once she opened it, noticing a pistol, an SMG, and a set of light-class armor. There were no shotgun, sniper or assault rifles present.
"I had expected for you not to have a shotgun or sniper and assault rifles, but I thought you only had a pistol," Marcus said as he took the SMG from her locker and examined it.
"It… comes with the line of work, I suppose," Liara said slowly.
"Hmm… you've mentioned something in the lines of that back at the institute," Marcus noticed, then smirked, speaking lightheartedly, "I'd imagine that archaeologists' tools were shovels and brushes, not SMGs."
Liara laughed at the connotation.
"Well, yes – normally, that'd be the case," she said. "But the thing is that the best locations of Prothean archaeological finds – as well as those of many other ancient spacefaring species that predated them, for that matter – are actually located throughout the Skyllian Verge, Attican Traverse, and the Terminus Systems. As you know, those regions are not exactly… stable. Pirates, slavers, opportunistic mercenaries – all of them wouldn't bat an eyelash at attacking a scientific expedition. Archaeologist teams need to protect themselves."
"I didn't know that part about the location of the most of Prothean ruins," Marcus said. "Though it makes sense if you look at Eden Prime and Feros for that matter."
"Indeed," Liara said – her voice having its usual smoky and low tone, but her eyes glimmering with excitement. "It is my theory that the Prothean homeworld comes from some of these regions; its location is still a mystery."
"And thus you ended up floating in undesirables up to your neck," Marcus said with a smirk.
"You could say that," Liara agreed, smiling back. "It happened, oh… six times, I think. Seven, if you want to count a tribe of vorcha squatters armed with clubs and rocks. Some events were harmless, though it was touch and go a few times – mainly the one time with krogan and batarian slaver gang."
"That means you have more experience fighting than many full-time soldiers," Marcus noted with significance, then raised the SMG. "Did this help?"
"It did, in fact," she said. "My biotics are an excellent thing for close quarters and group disabling, but that weapon was the one that gave the finishing blow in most cases. It's an ERSC Tempest, though I'm sure you already know that… I was wondering if you'd tell me if it's any good."
Marcus did a quick disassembly of the weapon right on top of the lockers.
"Looks like an older version of the Tempest," he commented as he examined the components, and noted the lack of mods. "Reliable for its role, but looks pretty stock; you didn't mod it at all."
"I know how to apply warp field onto ammo using my own biotic skill," she said hopefully.
"A good skill to have," Marcus agreed. "Warp ammo mods are still under development. However, we'd need something a little more deliberate than this."
He reassembled the weapon in short order, then moved to the workbench and took one of the modified M-12-s.
"Here," he said as he offered her the weapon. "How does the weight seem – first tell me that."
Liara took it up with both hands and measured up the small weapon.
"Significantly lighter than the Striker," she said with relief as she looked up at him thankfully, then returned to examining it. "Only a bit heavier than my Tempest, but nothing significant, though."
Marcus pointed a finger at a certain section of the weapon and spoke:
"The Locust is by default very good at taking out shields; that's what it was made for. I figured you'd want to apply warp field to your ammo, so instead of going crazy like I did with the Striker, I added a standard explosive ammo mod attached over the bore. You can turn it on or off right there. Now, the Locust packs a greater punch than the Tempest, and has very low recoil, but fires more slowly. It's not meant for spray-and-pray."
"A what?" Liara asked with confusion.
"Spraying a hailstorm of rounds downrange and praying they hit what they're supposed to," Marcus clarified right of the bat.
"Oh!" she exclaimed in understanding, then looked down at her weapon. Marcus spoke up:
"I understand that you'd want to practice a bit with it first, but we don't have a shooting range on the ship. But, I think we'd get plenty of opportunities soon enough. Just remember that whatever scuffle were to spring up, you take cover, stay behind, and use that weapon to pick of targets of opportunity. Understood?"
"Understood, Commander," she nodded.
"Good. Now, let me see your armor," he said.
Liara placed her new Locust into a free slot in the locker, then showed him a lower compartment that held the armor. Marcus removed the cuirass and examined it.
"This is exceptionally light," he commented as he examined the above-average shielding. "From what I see, these shield capacitors could raise more than 700 kilojoules of energy at max capacity… and the generator could very well put out over 200 kJ per second. Who designed it?"
"Serrice Council, on Thessia," Liara said proudly. "It's not commercially available."
"Then how did you get it?" he asked with genuine interest.
"I… suppose it came with the T'Soni name," she said after a moment.
"Well, it's good that you have that name, then," Marcus commented in all seriousness, then re-deposited the cuirass back into its place in the locker, closed it, and then leaned with his elbow against it, turning toward Liara.
"I've noticed you hesitated when speaking right there, though…" he said slowly. Liara silently looked away into the distance. "Something bothers you."
She was silent for a moment. "I suppose that I feel… conflicted about the fact that I am Benezia's daughter in a team that hunts her," she said, then looked at him with a small smile on her lips. "Don't get me wrong, though; I had cut ties with Benezia long ago. It was decidedly a fight to end all fights. Still, I cannot help but feel strange that I carry gear that was ultimately provided by the wealth and influence I had earned by simply being her daughter."
He chuckled, his lips spreading into a full smile. "Sorry, I didn't realize sooner."
"Didn't realize what?" she asked genuinely.
"You're worried about how others here on this ship will look at you," he said not unkindly.
Liara dipped her head slowly, looking to the side, avoiding his eyes.
"That… is true," she admitted, then sighed as she leaned back against the lockers. "That was the problem that followed me ever since I was young, I have to admit," she said ruefully. "Being from a privileged household in school was… problematic. Not to mention me being a pureblood."
Marcus squinted. "Pureblood?" he asked.
"Having both parents asari," she clarified. "It's considered an archaic and a backward practice these days. Asari consider it a matter of genetic advancement of our whole species to import genes from alien species to improve racial traits. Remaining pure asari is… not fashionable. It's… complicated. In any case, those few rich family daughters excluded me from their company because I was a pureblood. Other kids excluded me because I was automatically labeled as a rich snob."
Marcus took a deep breath as he leaned back against the lockers next to her and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I understand what you went through," he said compassionately. "Believe it or not, I used to have had a very similar problem, though one of opposite quality. I used to have been very poor. I was a street rat – a violent kid that ran with street gangs. Other kids were… well… not rich, but comparatively much wealthier – and they had nothing but disdain for me. If you account the fact that I was a rare biotic in a world that only just encountered such things, well… you get the picture. To them, I was a freak of nature, who, in their eyes, was abandoned by his parents because of what he was."
Liara smiled compassionately back. "What was that human saying… about two people being from the same coin…?"
He smirked, nodding. "Two sides of the same coin," he said, sharing a look with her. "Yeah, that very much applies to the two of us."
"How did you come on top of your situation?" Liara queried with a small smile, her gaze wide-eyed, showing genuine interest.
"I fought with everything I had," he said, looking forward into the distance. "Not the battle of brawn, but the one of wits. One of thinking and planning, and cunning… until I managed to get on top and to rise above them all. When I did, their petty jabs became no more than a bunch of fleas trying to be snarky."
"It takes its toll, though, doesn't it?" Liara said knowingly.
"It does," he said, nodding importantly. "The constant fight, the depression, the… question whether you're the one who's truly insane or a freak. For a kid, such things are big. Profound. Tell a man that he's a fool once, and he'll know it's not true; tell it to him over, and over, and over, and sooner or later he's bound to start believing it. You need to be an outstanding person to protect yourself from it, especially at such a malleable age."
She harrumphed. "Isn't that the truth," she said ruefully. "I had to fight that for decades it takes us asari to grow. I had to first realize and understand that I was better than they were. And then, I had to learn how to strike back, how to manipulate so that I'm not the one being hurt. It sometimes backfired, making things worse. But I learned from my mistakes; it helped me a lot when I finally went to college, to study Protheans."
"Your unconventional approach and theories must've been hard for you."
"They were," she admitted. "I realized early on that the world of Prothean xenoarchaeology was just as bad as high school. And even more ruthless. The other researchers – matriarchs for the most part – will do anything to maintain their reputation high – to keep the funding for their research flowing. All young maidens would become their followers; their acolytes. They did that for the purpose of gaining prestige by being labeled a famous matriarch's assistants. I, however, went rogue from the very first moment. It didn't make me very popular, as you might imagine." She giggled then. "Fortunately, I had already had the first-hand experience on how to deal with naysayers."
"You spoke of that the first time Jaina and I met you back at the research institute."
She dipped her head. "That's right. The matriarchs can be very arrogant and difficult to deal with. I learned how to manipulate them – I had to – but it takes its toll as well. Sometimes I just needed to run away. I could spend months alone in far-away dig sites for every one week I'd spend amongst them at the universities and institutes. It was a retreat and rehabilitation as much as enjoyment." She turned to look at him. "And what about you? Did you come to a place where your previous experience could be useful?"
He sighed. "In a manner of speaking. When I joined the Alliance, I was nothing if not durable – both physically and mentally. The brain games they play on you in the boot camp did not work for me. But it was also a problem. The army does not suffer cogs that don't turn the way it wants them to. Being a lone wolf is not a good thing to be when you're in the army. I had to rise above them pushing me to be another brick in the wall, but without being disruptive. If I didn't, if I wasn't striving to be different than everyone, I never would have become an N7. No one ever became great if they followed what everyone else was doing. And I knew early on I needed to push for just that – to be the N7 and a commanding officer. As an N7, it was expected of a spec-ops soldier to be a lone wolf to an extent, so he could achieve his tasks. As a Spectre, even more so."
"It must've been an uphill battle," she commented compassionately, understanding all too well.
"Just as what it must've been for you, too," he said, then straightened from the locker he was leaning against and cast a gaze across the cargo hold.
"But in the end, your effort will land you in a place such as this," he said, nodding toward the Normandy. "A place where the best gather. Where they know how difficult the life can be, and that it doesn't matter what's your name, your past or where you come from. Whether you were a street gang rat or came from a privileged wealthy doesn't matter to them. What matters is who you are, in here, and in here," he said, tapping his heart and temple respectively as he turned toward her, smiling. "And that you have each other's backs. And that gear you have there will ensure that."
Liara laughed airily with a genuine smile on her lips before she looked up at him, beaming.
"Well, wasn't that an amazing way to convince someone not to worry about anything she might have been worrying about," she said, then straightened as well, standing in front of him and nodding. "I'll do my best to remember everything you said, Commander. Thank you." She turned to leave, but spoke up once more, looking at him over her shoulder: "And, Commander? Please, call me Liara."
"Any time, Liara," he replied.
The young asari left the cargo bay, and Marcus watched her go, nodding satisfactorily to himself at her springy step before he returned to modifying the weapons.
His next stop was the sniper rifles.
"I overheard the conversation you've had with the good Doctor," Wrex's voice rumbled as the big krogan approached him from behind. "Makes me wonder whether it's really because you want to help her, or if it is just to make sure your ground team gets the best chance."
Marcus cast a brief glance at him from the corner of his eye. The middle-aged krogan seemed to be skeptical about everyone and everything; not unlike he still was to an extent somewhere deep down.
"Helping both her and the team is not mutually exclusive," he said as he hefted one of the heavy anti-materiel rifles onto the work bench. "I may want to insure my team has no loose screws, but that doesn't mean I can't help somebody."
"Risky," Wrex commented. "How do you know helping people won't come back to bite you in the ass, hmm?"
"I take precautions, Wrex, I'm not a moron," Marcus said sternly as he began disassembling the heavy rifle. "I watch people carefully; I study them and take care of those minute things. I grew up on the streets of Earth where that skill meant the difference between life and a state worse than death. I was a member of a gang. I did things to protect myself. I had to watch my back every single day, and be very careful who I trust. I've had a lot of experience with it; I know who to trust. I'm sure you've had something like this through your lifetime."
"Hmm," Wrex rumbled in affirmation. "You could say that. I wouldn't be alive right now if I wasn't a good judge of people. I hadn't spoken a single word with the Doctor, but I see things that others might not. She may be young and hopeful, but she ain't an innocent girl. There is a darker side to her; that girl has seen some bad things. She has killed before. And she had had to fight for things in her life before."
"She admitted as much," Marcus said. "The University of Armali is a backstabbing place when it comes to recognition. She had to fight to maintain her career against her peers, and she has spent a lot of time in the Terminus systems exploring Prothean ruins where she came upon pirates and such a few times."
Wrex rumbled with a nod. "Figured as much. She must've seen her fair share of fights, then."
"I've seen her in action on a security cam recording," Marcus replied casually while he examined the rifle parts. "She's good."
"That much is obvious if she is still alive and un-enslaved by those Terminus pirates," Wrex said. "Which gotta make you wonder why did she abandon the luxury of T'Soni name and the cultured environment of the university for the sake of uncertainty of the frontier. Makes me think that the girl has a lot more adventurous spirit than she lets on, despite her apparently reclusive nature."
"Well, then, I guess we'll just have to remedy that reclusiveness, now won't we?" Marcus stated as he uploaded the data files to the fabricator. "No good ever comes from trying to subdue or choke down your true nature."
"A lotta people from the civilized world would disagree with you," Wrex rumbled slowly, one of his cunning eyes trained on Marcus. "They want you to be polite and diplomatic."
Marcus dropped one of the rifle parts back onto the workbench in annoyance.
"You're fishing for my stance on the matter, Wrex?" he demanded, seeing right through the battlemaster's intent as he leveled a cold gaze on him. "You think it'll tell you what kind of a man I am? What am I trying to achieve here? Well?"
Wrex was silent for a moment, just staring right back and measuring the man up.
"I'm pretty sure I can see already," Wrex replied slowly. "You smell of it from a mile away. You, and your woman. It's the details that one needs to make sure of. To see whether your words match with what you exude; whether you're trying to hide your true nature – just like what you said just now concerning Liara."
Marcus diverted his gaze with a strong inhale through his nose as he thought on Wrex's words.
"Alright," he said before he turned bodily toward Wrex and leaned with his side against the Workbench. "I'll tell you what I think of the civilized world. The civilized world is a bunch of lazy sheep that want to be fed and entertained without having to work for it. They think that they're the center of the world and that everyone should conform to their notions of proper 'civilized' behavior, and that they should always be right. Well, I hold a great dislike for their notions of propriety and civility and don't want it anywhere near me. It is only the men and women that had experienced the ugly face of life and came on top of it that I hold all respect for, and are the only ones I can establish the sort of relationship that I like. There's no bullshitting, no hypocrisy, and I know I can depend on them."
"Yet, as a soldier, you're sworn to defend those very same lazy sloths you so dislike," Wrex jabbed purposefully.
"Not them," Marcus stated firmly, shaking his head. "It's the few good men and women that live among them that I do. By being here and leading by example, I want to draw those few closer to me, because I know I can build something worthwhile with them, and to hell with everyone else."
He turned toward the fabricator and punched in the activation as he continued speaking:
"Now, I look out for me and mine. And that doesn't include anyone else until I decide that it does. I want to ensure the best life, and I want to do it with people I can trust with my life, and who also trust me with theirs. Such a thing is not found, but built, but once it's finished, there's no better thing in the world. Together, such men and women can shape the world by their will. That's what I do."
"So, you want to build a good krantt," Wrex rumbled with a nod. "Hard thing to do."
"The hardest," Marcus acquiesced.
"So, how's that working out for ya?"
Marcus looked at him sideways, then raised his arms, motioning toward the ship that surrounded them before lowering them down.
"I'd say I'm doing pretty damn good so far," he said. "Some of the best men and women happened to have gathered on this ship. They just need some… fine tuning."
Wrex rumbled pensively as he watched Marcus for a moment, before silently turning and walking off. Marcus watched him leave, noticing the aura of pensiveness around the krogan. There was something on Wrex's mind. Not something as present like the chase for Saren, but something that is lingering for a while now. He just had to pick at it a bit. Carefully. There'd be time for that later.
Now, though, he returned to the finished parts of the sniper rifle and reassembled it in short order before he called out:
"Hey Garrus, catch!" he yelled and threw the heavy rifle using both hands towards the turian.
Garrus quickly turned and readily welcomed the thrown rifle into his hands. He released some kind of deep, flanging turian trill, and his face showed appreciation.
"Molotok anti-materiel rifle by Rosenkov Materials," he said.
"The Systems Alliance wants to introduce it under designation M-98 Widow, in a couple of years," Marcus said. "I've changed a couple of things on it, though; I added the new heat sink. It cools much faster, and can launch as much as three rounds before sink saturation limit."
"I'll get right on it," Garrus said.
Marcus nodded, then picked up the other anti-materiel rifle and laid it down on the workbench. He sighed as looked down at it.
"You're going to be a completely different beast by the time I'm done with you," he murmured quietly.
He accessed his omni-tool and opened up the folder with a name "Project: Devastator" and displayed the 3D model in front of him. And he smiled.
Marcus had spent more than twelve hours in total, modifying the weapons and armor of the crewmembers that he knew needed it. A lot of eezo was spent upgrading some of the ground team's shielding. When it came to armor, Kaidan, Ashley, Garrus, and Tali were severely under-geared. Both Kaidan and Ashley used standard-issue Alliance light and heavy armors, Garrus had his C-Sec blue and black standard set, while Tali's suit was only that – a suit.
So, he had started with upgrading the shields, which was the easier part. All four of the aforementioned people had had very low shielding, with only Tali having more than 250 kilojoule capacity in her shields, and that was because she had a number of tricks up her proverbial sleeve. Now, though, all four of them sported over 600 kilojoules of maximum shield capacity, with a power output of 120 kilojoules per second when not under fire and a 20 kilojoules per second impact threshold. It actually surpassed the shielding of Wrex's heavy armor by a small margin.
When he had finally entered the captain's quarters, his quarters, he felt tired. Very tired. But it was the tiredness of the good kind. He felt that he actually did something worthwhile. That kind of "tired" was the best kind in the world, and it left him feeling like he could do more still.
Yet he felt that there was this one little thing missing to make the day just right.
He sat down in the chair in front of the terminal and looked around what was once Captain Anderson's and was now his own room. It still had that scent of new. The Captain wasn't there long enough to even unpack properly before Eden Prime. The room was bland, and a color blend of dark navy blue and gray. It served its purpose, true, but… even he could tell that it needed a something more.
There was a chime at the door.
"Enter," he said, the VI recognizing his voice and opening the doors.
Jaina stepped in and strutted slowly through the room, her hands behind her back as she looked around, the doors closing shut behind her. He realized what that missing little thing was; it was walking through the room right now.
"Looks kind of bland, don't you think?" she commented, pointing to the room.
He smirked as he stood up and walked toward her. "My thought exactly. Are you offering your feminine touch in decorating?"
His arms slithered around her waist, and he pulled her firmly against him for a kiss.
"Hmmmm," she hummed into his mouth as her hands reached up to his hair, and her nails raked gently through his buzz cut.
"Hmm, someone's been having a good day," she commented when they separated.
"What can I say – work fulfills me," he replied with a triumphant smirk. "I've made new weapons, new gear, augmented shields to the party members that sorely needed it… It was a good day today. Only one thing could make it better, and it came to my quarters like it was ordered."
"Captain, sir, but what might you be talking about?" she asked with a look so innocent and cute that he just had to steal a new kiss. Jaina gasped in mock shock and a mischievous smirk. "Sir! This is a breach of conduct!"
He spanked her lightly on the bottom.
"Shut up, you!" he said with a smile. "If you keep that up I won't be able to hold myself in line."
"Behave!" she chided playfully with a light slap of her palm against his chest and extricated herself from his arms.
"It's pretty hard when you're right at arm's reach, beautiful," he replied with a chuckle.
"Well, be that as it may, you will behave out there, mister," she poked him in the chest.
"Oh, make no mistake, beautiful: we will behave out there… in here, though, while the doors are locked? I will hold nothing back."
"Down, boy," she chided with a smile. "The daily report needs to be finished first. The play comes later."
"Alright, Commander Shepard," he spoke up as he sat down in front of the terminal. "What is the situation with our flight plan?"
She moved and sat on the table, right next to where he was typing on the terminal.
"We've transited to Attican Beta a few hours ago, and we're on our way from the Hercules to the Theseus system," she said as she crossed her feet. "We'll be there in about twenty hours."
"We made a discharge earlier, right?"
"Right," she confirmed. "We had landed onto one of gas giant Zatorus's moons. And you're not gonna believe this: when we did a regular deep scan to see whether the surface was solid enough for landing, we found there's a shitload of gold lying just underneath. At least three hundred metric tons."
"That is a lot of gold," Marcus chuckled as he made some notes on his terminal. "It gives me an idea as to how we could earn a bit of funding on the side."
"Scan the planets we pass by with our superior pulsar sensor array, claim them, and then sell the prospecting rights for a percentage?" she declared with a knowing smirk. "I've already contacted Hackett. The Alliance will be more than willing to offer a fee."
He looked back at her with his eyebrows raised high in surprise.
"Well, now… I know I shouldn't be, but you always find a new way to pleasantly surprise me," he said, smirking. "What would I do without you?"
"Wallowing in self-misery or something," she replied cockily.
"Hmm, maybe," he said as he feasted his eyes with her form before he leaned back into the chair and sighed. "But back to the business at hand. We have – what did you say? – twenty hours until we reach Feros?"
"Mm-hm," she nodded.
"So, eight hours of nighttime here, followed by twelve more to prepare," he thought out loud. "Were there any other situations in the CIC? Is there something that I'd need to handle?"
"Relax; I took care of everything," she replied. "All the reports are filed, and the only thing you have to do is stamp it with your bio-signature. It was pretty much an uneventful day."
"Damn, woman," he spoke. "You sure are doing everything you can to make my life easy, aren't you?"
"Well… let's just say that I have a vested interest in making something else hard on you," she replied.
He chuckled. "Well then, I suppose I better hit the shower," he said. "What about you? Are you joining me?"
"In the shower?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I was thinking of that big, comfy, queen-sized bed that comes with captain's privileges, actually," he clarified, smirking. "Though I won't say no to sharing a shower, too. Have you brought your stuff in here?"
She laughed out loud. "I've brought a bag of toiletries when no one was looking," she replied. "Didn't think you'd get rid of me so easily once I got this close to you, did ya?"
"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied as he stood up and moved to hug her.
She hugged him right back, burying her face into his neck and inhaling his scent deeply. She mumbled incoherent sounds of content as he rubbed her back reassuringly. It always felt good when someone rubbed your back reassuringly, even if there was no reason.
"Come on," he spoke as he tugged her shirt gently. "Let's relax in that shower."
They made the shower slow and languid. The bathroom was small, and barely had enough room for them both under the single nozzle, but they took the most of it as they gently washed each other.
"I am definitely installing a multi-nozzle system into this bathroom the very first moment we're back in the civilized space," he commented as he gently rubbed shampoo into the back of her scalp.
She snorted. "That's only because you want to role-play a handyman meeting a hot next-door neighbor," she teased, and then she squealed as he momentarily switched the water to cold.
"Asshole," she laughed, turning and punching him on the chest, and then they kissed gently once more, melting into each other.
As much as their lovemaking two nights before was filled with lust, that much was this shower gentle and sensual. They took care of each other there, re-familiarizing themselves with the other's body as they took turns soaping the other one up, feeling the muscles, the old battle scars, and massaging the tightened knots.
There was no foreplay when they finally went to bed that night. She just sank herself down onto him, engulfing his firm member in her warm and tight embrace, and they spent time just like that, her arms around his shoulders, his one arm against her hip and the other on the small of her back, and her hips undulating against him slowly, sensually, for what seemed like an eternity, while they shared small kisses and long dances of the tips of their tongues against each other.
The release they shared that night was not the explosive and overwhelming lighting storm, but a gentle swell and jolt that sent the tingly tide of pleasure and content through their whole bodies.
Yes, they would do this whenever they could – both Jaina and Marcus realized that with certainty. They had no idea when they would be able to do it next. Even the easiest-looking mission could be the death of someone, and this mission was anything but. So, yes, they would take every moment together that they could, and to hell with anyone thinking otherwise.
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