Right... okay, I really have no idea what to say here that would classify as an Author's Note... so instead I'll jusst settle for tahnking those of you who gave suggestions and ideas to ship names and the name for the gunships... although, I have yet to find a fitting one for the gunships, there were many really good ones about the Dreadnought Anna is building.
Remember, the 'poll' is still open to send me suggestions, as long as the names are either connected to the nature of the gunships, or the meaning, history or reason for Anna's Dreadnought. Example, if Mindoir had been a major thing here, the suggestion 'Mindoir's wrath' would be just perfect. Thanks Exar, I'll find a use for that one though.
Well, I was also given a lesson in atonomy by one of you guys the other day. Due to the... nature of it, I won't give out the name (and no, it isn't because it is a negative thing) it just concerns the issue of whether or not Thom would keep pissing or stop doing so when he was offed.
Down the Iron sights
One day earlier…
October 28th
Presidium, Citadel
17:27
Groaning, Jane Shepard looked at her crono again for the seventh time. Thomas was taking way too long for a simple piss, and frankly, after almost being bested by the assassins the other day, she didn't like it when he wasn't around to play 'Green Lantern' with his sword and guns.
She hated to admit it, but if it came down to it, which it never should, he would kick her ass in a biotic fight. She just didn't have that kind of power that he waltzed around with.
Then, there were the green lines all over his skin when he had saved their asses. It was discomforting, to say the least. He almost didn't look human when she had looked at him, but for the sake of appearances, Jane had kept a smile on her face instead of the startled surprise and shock she had felt upon seeing his skin light up like a carved out pumpkin.
"Alright, Liara can you keep an eye on Kahoku for a moment?" She spoke into the headpiece in her ear, brushing away a few strands of red hair as she did. It was times like these she wished Magnus was still around. He would have been able to keep the admiral safe all on his own. No one had dared mess with the bulky Alliance soldier with a skull painted over his helmet.
No one, except for that one thug.
"Why? Are you leaving too?" The young Asari asked, turning to look at Jane from the bar-like stand near the counter, still sipping a soft drink. Alcohol and Asari didn't mix too well, especially not for a Maiden.
"Yeah... I'm going to find Fisher and kick his ass. He has been gone way too long, and I'm hauling him back here, even if he had gotten a case of spontaneous diarrhea." Jane grimaced, getting up from her seat and feeling for her concealed sidearm. Her pistol was still there; ready to be drawn at a moment's notice from the back of her pants.
"I… that would be highly unsanitary… I mean, I'll handle things here." Liara stammered, realizing that Jane had been half-joking when she said it.
"Fine, contact me if something happens, otherwise I'll call back when I've got Fisher's ear in a grip and hauled him from the shitter, Jane out." She said, starting to make her way towards the public restrooms Thomas had entered a good hour ago, and still not left.
"I swear, if he's reading comics on the shitter, I'm going to stick it up his ass…" She growled to herself as she stood outside the men's restroom. Taking a deep breath, she hammered on the door;
"Alright Thomas, get your ass out here! You've taken way too long for a simple piss, and unless you ate something Dextro, I'm going to kick your ass if you're not out here in ten!" She shouted, drawing a few looks from nearby residents. She glared daggers at them so violently, they could have charged her with assault.
"Seven… Eight… Nine… TEN! Alright, hide your wangers boys, lady coming in. And I'm charging you with sexual harassment if I see anything resembling a penis!" She shouted before kicking the door open, being greeted by a sight she had not expected.
Instead of finding a young marine trying to finish up, she saw a Turian examine a very familiar, long sword. On the ground near him was a shotgun, an assault rifle and a pistol, Raikou-model. Upon seeing the woman in front of him, the Turian cocked an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't let go of the strange sword.
"Oi, you! That sword doesn't belong to you. Where's the owner?" She snapped, causing the alien to drop the sword in shock.
"I… I just found it on the floor here… as well as all these guns. No one was in here when I came in, so… why, you know the owner? This is a really nice swor-" He started, but Jane cut him off;
"What do you mean you just found it? It belongs to an Alliance Marine. Where is he?" She stepped a bit closer, causing the Turian to recoil slightly. Why did humans have to be this intrusive with others' private space? It was bad enough that someone had pissed all over the floor and walls, as if trying to dance while letting it out.
"Hell if I know… it was just laying here on the ground." He said, and Jane wandered around a bit, looking at the room. It wasn't big enough for Thomas to have hidden, as stupid as that sounded, and there was only one booth taken. She knocked on it.
"Thomas, you in there?"
"What? What? Go away." A Salarian snapped, causing her to remove herself from the door. Sighing in frustration, Jane put a hand to her head-piece;
"Liara, we may have a problem…"
"What? Does he have diarrhea?" Came the slightly disturbed voice of the Asari. Jane just mentally winced, trying to formulate a proper response. She pinched her nose as well, the smell of urine permeating the air due to the pissing someone had done everywhere but in the cistern.
"No… he's gone." If something had happened to the Corporal, Jane knew there was one hell of shitstorm coming her way. And its name was Ashley Williams.
…
October 29thth
Elysium, Illyria
20:11
As the orbital stations fired everything they had on the advancing ships, the onboard crew began to realize that they would not be able to hold against this many hostiles. For Sander, this became an uncomfortable reality when a round from one of the Batarian cruisers plowed through the nearest station, obliterating it in a storm of fire and shrapnel.
"Sir! Our numbers are dropping fast!" One of the ensigns called, just as another platform was demolished by enemy fire, bringing their own numbers down to four in total. Sander Mitchells briskly paced up and down the command-bridge in his platform, watching as both hostile ships and friendly platforms alike dropped from the screen.
"Fire everything we have! Focus on the cruisers, their guns will be able to deface the entire planet if we let them through." He barked, stopping to wipe sweat from his forehead. If there was one thing that gave him comfort, it was the fact that for every platform lost, the raiders lost at least ten ships. If he could just finish off their cruisers, then the planet's defenses should be able to handle the rest.
As he stood on the bridge with his hands clasped behind his back, he couldn't help wonder if he would make it out of this alive. The platforms were shielded, but couldn't handle the amount of fire thrown at them for long. They were built to discourage pirates and small slaver fleets… not a flotilla consisting of almost a thousand ships.
"Father in heaven… thou who protects… thy will be done…" He muttered as the first few rounds started impacting against his stations shields.
"Sir! We're taking heavy fire!"
"All hands abandon the platform; get to the escape-pods." He barked, but was startled when his men simply stared back at him.
"Sir, if we leave now, the ships will be able to target the colony from orbit. I'm staying." One of the ensigns said, and was shortly after followed by numerous others. In just a few seconds, the entire platform had sworn to stay and fight. Something that made Mitchell's heart swell with pride.
"Alright Ladies, let's give those four-eyed goatsuckers a fight they won't soon forget. All cannons, fire on the lead cruiser! Send their leader to hell!" He shouted, observing how rows of mass accelerators were aligned and fired from his platform, sending glowing projectiles soaring through the void before they impacted on the already drained shields of the lead cruiser, tearing large chunks of metal from the hull as they tore away at it. He barely registered the twenty frigates leveling their spinal mounted guns at the platform, nor did he pay much notice to the projectiles closing in on his station. He just knew they were approaching.
"Men… it has been an ho-" He was cut off as twenty fifteen-kilos slugs impacted on the strained shields of the station, overloading them and pummeling through the armor of the platform.
Down on the ground, the explosions in orbit could clearly be seen from the ground, illumination the red evening sky. Watching the debris fall through the atmosphere like meteors, Lieutenant Zaeed Massani sneered under his helmet. He had known more than one man serving on the platforms and with the last one now destroyed, he had little doubt they were all dead.
Growling, he adjusted the sights on Jessie, making sure she was fully loaded and charged. He then checked his two pistols, making sure both were ready to be fired non-stop until they overloaded. Sighing, he put them back in their holsters, rolling his shoulders under the armor.
Illyria was a major city, but in out-lay, it was colonial at heart. All the buildings were arranged in geometrical shapes, making transportation easier as well as making the city more manageable to the eye. Its perimeter was vaguely circular, allowing for a total of only ten entrances into the city. Broad roads and alleys carved ways into the city from the farmlands, allowing thousands of ground-based vehicles to pass. In theory.
The colony had been founded while cars with wheels were still the majority of personal transport. These days only heavy industry or military vehicles used the roads, and currently, the Apocalypses were making good use of the chokepoints leading into the city.
Zaeed looked into the sky, squinting his eyes as a swarm of hostile dropships came in towards the city. They was big, easily large enough for a hundred men each. Behind Zaeed, he could hear the sound of gunships taking off. It was Mantis gunships, as well as some of the new models. Seeing as they had arrived with only the registration number printed and nothing else, Zaeed had nicknamed them 'Wasps', for their thick armor, speed and their lethality in combat.
He quite liked the name, and was eager to see just how well they would perform. The jockeys had been all over the new crafts, especially because of the speed and armor. Still, he couldn't fathom how the gunner was supposed to work at optimal capacity when locked inside a hamster ball. Hopefully the brass would have that one replaced with a targeting VI at some point, allowing the soldiers to be inside the ship, rather than hanging on it like a pair of testicles.
Growling, Zaeed went back to prepare his rifle, looking down the line of dug-in marines and colonial army troopers, all outfitted with the new phase-II armor, and a few like himself, armored up in the Bulwark. Providing covering fire from behind the lines, a massive Apocalypse tank was standing by, guns ready to tear through any target at interest. Zaeed knew the enemy would have to come over land to take the city.
Covering the large perimeter like loosely strewn gravel, mobile SAM-sites and heavy anti-air machineguns were set up, ready to deter any incoming forces from landing inside the city.
All in all, they were ready to face the incoming raiders. There was only one problem, a slight disadvantage that Zaeed knew they would have to work around. The colony's battalion consisted of just above ten-thousand battle-ready soldiers, plus the local militia and the few Farseekers dotting the occasional rooftop with snipers at the ready. So far, spotters had reported more than seven hundred dropships headed towards the ground outside the city, making large space between themselves and the anti-air inside the city. If each dropship held hundreds of hostiles, the defenders would be massively outnumbered. Outmanned and outgunned, there was no way around that fact.
Next to Zaeed, Sergeant Victor Kahowsky was preparing a massive light machinegun. Mounted on a bipod, he had a Revenant loaded and pointed at the flat farmlands opening up in front of the line of marines and soldiers crouching behind the barricade of overturned cars, riot shields and mobile covers of titanium used for cover in counter-terrorism ops.
"So, Massani. Who can get the highest kill-count on these fuckers eh?" The man said, his thick eastern European accent distinguishing him from most other men on the field. Zaeed gave the man a dry sneer and pulled the small bar on Jessie, cocking the rifle and causing a small scope to emerge from the back of it, turning it into an automatic mid-to-long distance sharpshooter.
"You're on old man." Zaeed said, giving the man a brief look. Victor Kahowsky was easily ten years older than him, bearing a long scar down his left forearm and sporting a moustache that would have put the WWI version of the British poster boys to shame. All in all, he looked like the stereotype Polish trooper, ready to kick the ass of anyone threatening the Alliance, and by extension Poland.
In the skies above them, Gunship-jockey Lieutenant Suzuki Anozito and his co-pilot Kedai Udieno flipped off the safety of their Wasps heavy-duty rockets and chin-mounted mass accelerators, as well as giving the greens to the two gunner positioned on each side of the gunship. They were flying at the lead of the squadron of ten Wasps, as well as thirty Mantis gunships.
In front of them, a swarm consisting of hundreds of hostile fighters and dropships were soaring towards the surface of the planet, eager to drop their loads of infantry and or vehicles. While the dropships did their part, the fighters were pulling up from their descent towards the surface and headed forward, straight towards the incoming colonial squadrons. Suzuki activated his comms;
"Alright boys, we've got guests at out front door. We need to buy the defenses as much time as we can, so let's give these guys a proper welcome. Wasps, lock on targets and await my orders to fire missiles. Mantis-crews, I want you to circle around their formations and hit them from behind while they focus on us slower targets. Remember, these guys have nothing to lose, everything to gain." He ordered, and then watched as the signals of each gunship activated and lit green. Green across all boards… He thought, looking at the numerous approaching fighters with grim determination.
"Mantises, disperse and spread, disperse and spread. Wasps, locks confirmed. All gunships fire at will." He ordered, nodding to Kedai who pressed down on a small red button on the handles in front of him. Instantly, he felt a slight change in weight and stability as one pair of rockets, then another and another, left the storages on top of the gunship. Shortly after they were followed by hundreds of other rockets as the other gunships fired, drawing tails of thin smoke through the darkening sky.
As the rockets neared the fighters, they started evading in large numbers, spreading to the sides as the rockets started homing in on their targets, following the heat emissions from the fighters. Those fighters at the very back of the swarm apparently didn't see the rockets coming, and were indiscriminately cut down from the sky in large balls of fire and smoke, leaving no chance of the pilots having escaped.
"Good kills, good kills." He said, watching in satisfaction as the sky was filled with smoke and fire.
The second the fighters had either been shot down by or evaded the fired rockets, the rest of them swarmed towards the gunships, all of them opening fire in a stream of heated tungsten and lead accelerated to 1.02 percent of the speed of light. From one fighter, it would have looked dangerous, but fired by several hundreds of fighter-crafts, it looked downright surreal for the crew of the gunships.
As the opposing forces closed in, Suzuki opened the comms to the gunships under his command;
"All gunships, enemy is hot. You are weapons free, repeat you are weapons free. Good hunting boys." He deactivated the comms again, grabbing a hold of the controls as Kedai took over the guns.
And just as sudden as the enemy had appeared on the sky, they were among them, turning the orderly formation into a mess of gunships and fighters shooting at anything that didn't come up as friendly to the crafts' VI's.
To the side of the gunship, the two gunners were rotating and moving their turrets at a speed which made it look like they hardly had time to identify before shooting. Green beams of focused particles were fired from the dishes mounted at the end of the spheres, allowing the gunners to cut through anything not armored behind seven inches of solid titanium. As fighters sped past the gunship, Gunner corporal Richard Dales fired his weapon again and again, halfway observing in amazement how pure the thin beams looked as they penetrated the air, going on for what seemed like an eternity. In truth the beams only went a few kilometers before they couldn't penetrate the skin on a human's hand.
As the hostile crafts started turning around in the air, heading back for another strafe, he could feel the vibrations from the hull as dozens of rounds impacted on the reinforced P-steel, causing the noise inside the compartment meant for troops to reach an unbearable level. He could even hear it inside his own little ball of death.
As the fighters started coming back, the green beams grew in numbers as the gunships turned on the spot and allowed the gunners to pick their targets while attempting to avoid exposing them to too much incoming fire. Several of the fighters were cut in halves by the beams as they returned fire, causing them to simply fall apart without an explosion. The only fighters exploding were the ones hit in the fuel tanks. The others simply fell from the skies without a sound.
"I got one, I got one!" His fellow gunner, Ensign Dylan Owens shouted over the comms. The American always did feel like marking his territory on the battlefield by getting his first kill before Richard could even get a lock.
"Great, now shut it and keep shooting." He growled, letting another beam escape the dish, narrowly missing an incoming fire as it riddled the gunship with bullets, one of them impacting on the shields just in front of Dales, making him momentarily wince. Sneering with frustration, he kept shooting, gunning for masses of fighters clustered together in their turns.
Suddenly, a stream of bright yellow fire was unleashed against the hundreds of fighters, causing dozens of them to explode or simply fall to the ground while dragging long trails of black smoke and fire after them. Looking to his left, Richard Dales could just about see the shapes of the Mantis gunships as they joined the fray, letting loose their anger against the invaders.
A grim smile spread over his lips as he turned back to the shooting, finally managing to cut the wing of an incoming fighter, causing it to spin out of control and hit another fighter next to it, making both of them explode in fire and smoke;
"Top that one, Yankee!"
All of this, Zaeed could follow though his radio, watching with a predatory smile as the sky was practically turned into a carpet of smoke and fire, with green beams and tracers acting as the seams and treads in what he always called 'a work of art'.
A shout from the side drew his focus back to the situation around him, and looking though the scope of his gun, he could see the outline of not just enemy infantry, but rows of vehicles and tanks as well.
This was going to be grim.
…
October 30th
Location and time unknown.
A slight flicker of light intrudes into my personal hell, blinding me with its sheer brightness compared to the darkness in here.
Okay, so there's a light at the end of the tunnel… so to speak. I wonder what happens if I follow it. Roku, is that you having finished up?
No response. Okay, I suppose he hasn't, or he would be preaching and bragging about how great he is… or was… Hell if I understand all this, I just need to get up and get back to the crew.
Moving towards the flicker of light, I can start hearing voices. Or, I think they are voices. I'm not sure, but it sounds too irregular to be a machine's humming. I only slowly near the flicker, but with each mental step, I can feel a crawling sensation at the back of my mind, as if I can feel my back again, just without the physical feeling.
Despite the situation, I can't help to muse over how my expectations for how weird things can become, is always surpassed. Hell, it's been crossed and surpassed at least twice this month… I think. Are we still in October? Or how much time has passed? Am I really dead? Did Roku not get to fix me before Thane delivered me and I was… whatever was supposed to happen to me when I arrived.
It's funny though. I have no ill will against Thane, not even now. He killed me, but he didn't do it because he wanted to. Someone else used him as a weapon, and he doesn't feel like anything but a weapon, if I remember the right way. I doubt he has been changed by my being here, so he should still be religious, relatively innocent of mind, and a caring father… and have those freaky flashbacks.
I wonder if he's going to have one of me… something like 'target relaxing… my hands move, nothing disturbs the peace. The neck, a frail connection. I shatter it, broken bones and tendons snapping…' Yeah, that would be a bit freaky if I had that. Thank God I'm not a Drell… for more than one reason.
The voices are coming back, becoming clearer and clearer as I near the light. Now it feels like I have walked miles, yet I have hardly closed more than a few meters in on the light. Perhaps it's moving away from me? Maybe this is a mental struggle to repair myself?
Looking around, I realize that I am no longer alone.
Or, in a sense I am not, although I am not sure what… these are.
All around me, oily shadows have appeared, whispering to me in voices I can't understand, like in foreign languages. Most of them… they sound familiar, but I can't place them. Like they belong to people I know, but I can't recognize them.
"Thirty-eight… did you just hit me?" One of the voices say, sounding like a whisper, but pissed at the same time. There's no response though.
"My chest hurts! It hurts so bad…" Another voice calls out, this one a bit louder. This voice… I recognize.
"Bashir? Where are you?" I call out, not being able to see more than the darkness and the oily shadows, blocking my way into the light.
"It hurts! I want my mom!" He is crying. The words… those words were the ones he was screaming when we tried getting him to the med-bay. His last words…
"Bashir! Talk to me! Where-" That's when I see him. He's wearing the same jump-suit he was when we found and tried to save him. The front of it is smeared with blood, and his tanned face is pale as snow. He stands about ten meters from me, looking at me with dead eyes. Oh for the love of God! I… I didn't…
I try to move towards him, but it's like running in a thick soup. Each step is difficult, and only brings him farther away.
"Bashir!" I scream, causing him to look at me again. His eyes are dead, empty sockets. There is no life left in them as he suddenly starts drawing closer, walking towards me with a speed that doesn't match his steps. Slowly, his eyes start to glow.
This is wrong. I feel how his eyeless sockets are piercing my soul, hammering him with all the guilt I've felt ever since Chakwas placed his little body in the coffin next to Sev's.
"You." His words drill into my head. I can hear them inside my mind as well as outside it.
"Bashir… please! I didn't mean to-"
"You could have saved me." He raises a hand, pointing at me as he nears me. He's within five meters now, walking towards me at a slower pace.
"I tried! I didn't know you were-" I can feel my eyes start watering. The itching feeling that always announces tears fills my mind along with his voice. It cuts through my mind like a razor.
"You made me DIE!"
His eyes are shining now, emitting light as if they were torchlights, just emitting a sick yellow color instead of the bright white they should be…
"N-No! No I didn't! I couldn't have-"
Suddenly, he is right in front of me, bending downwards towards my face. I don't know how he is suddenly taller than me, but he grabs my head, now a physical thing, and leans in, the sick light from his eyes penetrating my vision and almost blinding me completely. Then… the screeching.
The same sick screeching the hallucinations emitted on Feros. The sound of nails on a board would be a bliss compared to the sound he is emitting. It is inhuman, demon-like in sound and color. With a desperate movement, I push myself away from him, trying to get away.
Running, I look back, seeing him standing where he stood before, but still nowhere near farther from me. It's like I'm not moving at all. Roku! What is this!?
No response and the sick screeching hasn't stopped.
"What do you want from me?!" I shout, running as fast as I can. Looking back again, Bashir is gone, as are the oily shadows. Only one remains. The screeching slowly fades and I force myself to slow down, eventually stop.
The last shadow floats towards me, sometimes forming the outline of a person, sometimes just being an oily cloud.
"What… what are you, what is… where am I?"
The shadow simply floats in front of me.
"You… made my sacrifice be in vain." The voice says a again. This time, I recognize it.
"Sev?" I can feel my head starting to spin. This is all just too much for my mind to take in.
"You made my sacrifice be in vain. I died for nothing." He repeats.
"No! No Scorch is alive. You saved him." I try, desperate to escape this living nightmare. Why… how, is this even happening?
"Murderer!" The shadow screams before dissolving, letting me see the flickering light again. The voices have all but stopped, having been reduced to the faint hum of a machine.
Clutching my head, I stumble towards it, wanting out of this living hell. The voices still haunt me, the image of bloodied and ghastly Bashir, the accusing voice of Sev. He called me a murderer… I haven't killed anyone, only the assassins, and that was in self-defense… right?
There is no answer; Roku isn't here to help me.
I mean, I killed the assassins because it was me or them… I even spared one, and I only killed those who threatened Kahoku's safety… I… was humane when I shot the last one… right? He didn't feel any pain… or was it a she? I… can't remember? I've… I've forgotten someone I killed! That… I shouldn't forget someone I've killed, that's just… wrong.
And… the last… Leng, he… I mean, he was evil, right? He killed a member of the Council, so he was evil… he had to be, he didn't even show fear… he just laughed or spat at me… he deserved what he got, they all did.
The light envelopes me, bathing me in it before I'm suddenly dragged out of it, out into the real world.
My body is physical again, as is a thundering headache I wake up with. I let a small groan out as I grab my temples, trying to force the headache out.
Slowly, I open my eyes, trying to see just where I am. The sight that meets me… I wouldn't call it a surprise, but definitely a shock. I mean, this was to be expected, I guess. With all I've done and such, but still…
I'm lying on a small table, completely naked and with all hair gone from my body. Even the ones on my genitals. I'm completely hairless, and my body is covered with markings, done with a blue marker. Numbers and symbols adorn me as I look over my own body. Slowly taking a hand to my head, I am relieved to find that besides being completely bald, my head is as it should be. No uncovered brain or scalped stuck in my skull. This is definitely not right…
"…good… It worked… damn did it take me… a lot of effort…"
"Fuck! Roku, you okay?" He sounds like someone beat the crap out of him… and that someone is probably my brain…
"Fine… I really hate… working as a repairman…"
"Is there anything I can do? Like… meditate or try to shut off the world?" I try. I am not being stranded here with a spirit out of commission.
"I head that… and no. Shutting off the… world, will not… not help here. I'm going to… take a nap, but I will open myself, so… so that you can use a fraction of my strength… it should keep you alive…"
"Fuck man… are you dying?"
"Pff… don't insult me. I'm just… tired, that's all…" He says, and the faint humming he usually accompanies ends, just like that, leaving me alone.
"This is… not good…" I mutter, slowly sitting up. A bunch or wires and small pads are hanging on my head, and I move to remove them. Before I can even start though, I can hear voices nearby.
"-really need to get to his nerves now. I've had it with delays Langstrom." A woman says. I can't quite recognize it through the walls, but I'm guessing I'm the one in question here. Without fully knowing what to do, I lie back down on the table, trying to pretend I haven't woken up.
"Yes Miss Lawson. We'll get right to it." The man says. I'm guessing he is Langstrom. Isn't that a Norwegian name? I close my eyes, letting both be open just a fraction. I need to be ready to uppercut the bastard if he starts cutting me… wait a minute… Lawson?! Miranda?! I'm in a Cerberus facility! And Miranda… this means Thane was paid and hired by The Illusive Man! And I just had to piss him off…
A pair of doors close with a swish, and I can actually feel his presence, like an inner eye. I can just see him move about without looking at him. It's really strange, but maybe this is what Roku meant when he said he would let me use some of his powers.
"Alright, let's get this underway… Wilson, log-update please." Langstrom says, and a new man enters the room. Wilson… where have I heard that name before…where have…
"Yes Doctor." Wilson says, and instantly I recognize him. The bastard from the start of Mass Effect 2. I can feel the ager welling up inside me, causing my skin to feel like its boiling. Opening one of my eyes a tiny bit, the one on the opposite side of the two men, I can see the green lines slowly starting to appear on my body. They actually form a pattern, now that I can see all of them. Okay, so anger and stress causes the lines to appear… useful…
"Log-update: October 30th 2183. Doctor Eric Langstrom. I am going to start the desiccation of subject Thomas Fisher, Alliance corporal. Initial scans show no signs of modules in his body, and the only non-organic part is an extensive synthetic replacement of subjects left arm and eye. Reason unknown, but I'm guessing it is due to injury in duty. No weapons or modules in the prosthetics. The time is sixteen twenty-two. I am now beginning my work by laying the first cut on… hold… subject is… glowing… he didn't do this last time I checked… odd, green lines are forming all over his body in what appears to be intricate patterns and symbols… they aren't following the marker's lines… I have never seen anything like… Wilson, get Lawson down here. She needs to see this!" The man shouts, and Wilson rushes out the door, going to fetch Miranda.
I really wish I had pants on.
Near me, I can hear Langstrom put down his scalpel and turn on a sink. Splashing of water tells me he's probably washing or cooling his head. Damn, I can scare the shit out of Cerberus's people…
After a few moments, the doors open again, and I feel the presence of three people now. Miranda is one of them.
"What is it Doctor, I don't have…time… for…for… what the hell is that? Why is he glowing like that?" She sounds pissed as hell. Alright, so Miranda is fully aware of me having been killed and brought here, and she's okay with it. Sorry Oriana, but you'll be an only-child soon.
"That's why I brought you here. I have never seen anything like this, and the sensors are picking up heat-signatures in his body and brain-activity… he's… he's active."
"What do you mean 'active'? His damn neck is broken in three places, he can't be active. What's next, he's going to wake up and talk?" Okay… this is just too tempting. Slowly, I turn my head to the side, opening my eyes.
"Sure, if that's what floats your boat Miri." I respond with a menacing chuckle, causing everyone in the room to jump into the air and turn to face me. Wilson looks horrified, Miranda too, with a bit of anger in there as well. Langstrom… he has a dark stain between his legs. Ha! I made him piss himself!
Seeing how none of them are saying anything, unless moving your mouth without sound is speaking, I smile grimly, slowly getting up from the table. It helps that my entire body is currently covered in green lines and cracks, making me look like a walking obelisk or ancient statue. And damn does it feel good.
"Well, didn't expect thát one, did you?" I ask with a smile as I look around for a piece of clothing. I'm so covered in light now that it won't matter, but I would still feel better with some pants on at least. Still no response, and I finally find what I'm looking for, pulling out a folded uniform from a drawer. It's Cerberus, but that hardly matters right now. As I'm pulling the pants on, I give Miranda an evil look;
"I have to say though… Hiring Thane Krios to take me out… that was pretty clever. He was the only one I didn't manage to discover in time… although you should have briefed him on one small detail." I say with a chuckle as I hold up an arm, studying the intricate and complicated patters adorning it. Finally, it looks like Langstrom has pulled himself together enough to speak;
"Wh- wha- wha…" Well, speak and speak… stutter is more like it. I just laugh, feeling the power run through my body. Roku… I know you can't hear me right now, but thank you. I can really get used to this.
"The small detail? Oh, that's an easy one." I smile as I slowly walk up to the three people, now wearing a sleeveless Cerberus uniform. It's very tasteful really, and fits me like a glove… so to speak. I lean in towards them, noticing the biotic blur surrounding Miranda;
"I… can't… die." I finish with a smile as gloating as I can make it. Langstrom looks like he's going to pass out, and Wilson looks like he's close behind. Miranda though… she's an odd one. She just looks curious and pissed, but not that scared.
"And you… Miranda… you know, I really wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. Convincing myself you were one of the good guys… but you know what? That's when it hit me. I realized… I couldn't trust you. Being Tim's right hand, I knew you would have to have had a finger in everything that went on in Cerberus, every little dirty project… so, of course, you played a hand in the hell John went through. And of course, you had to play a hand in the project on Noveria…sad really, I know you are a loving and protecting big sister… or twin really, but now… " I say, feeling how I can actually control the power in my body. It burns, but not in the bad way. It's like being in the sun for too long, but before the scolding sets in. Focusing my mind on min right hand for a moment, I watch in satisfaction as green flame-like energy pours from my fingertips, becoming actual green fire as it merges over my palm.
"Now?" She asks, with a slight tremble in her voice. Her eyes show nothing but resentment, no fear, just resentment. I place my fingers on the table next to us, releasing the fire in my hand. It instantly burns through the table like a knife through hot butter, emerging on the other side.
Langstrom faints.
"Now I'm slightly pissed at you." I mutter menacingly, looking her in the eye. In the reflection of her blue eyes, I can see my own eyes. Just… where they used to be green with some yellow specks, now my eyes are green orbs without Iris or pupil. Just glowing green.
I look like a demon. Which I suppose is pretty fitting.
"What are you going to do now?" She sneers. Oh yes, her burning hatred for me is formed and based upon her not knowing anything about how I know what I know.
"Well… I was…" I say, but I can instantly feel a group of ten people running towards the room we're in. I look back at Miranda; "Seems we're having guests… you know, instead of simply punishing Oriana by taking her sister from her… how about I give a live demonstration instead?" I say, feeling a grim smile spread on my face. These people are Cerberus, and they had me killed and taken. In other words: free game. Before Miranda can even answer, still leaning backwards against the wall along with Wilson, the door opens and a group of ten people point guns at me, some of them briefly lowering their guns upon seeing what I looks like now.
I bet none of them expected their latest experiment to get up and threaten the doctors. One of them, probably the leader, steps forward, a large Carnifex pointed at my head;
"Hey freak! Step away from the director and lower your… weapon." The last word comes out as more of a hesitant punctuation than an actual order. Yeah, none of them have seen something like me before.
"Hey, hey it's cool. I was just having a chat with my old friend Miranda here. You know, the one who probably ordered Krios to take my life. Also, death is highly overrated…" I say with a smile as I flicker a small flame of green energy from my hand, enjoying the look of disbelief in their eyes. It does annoy me though, that they are all dressed in phase-II armor. So Cerberus really did steal the plans for those…
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The leader snaps at me, walking towards me with the gun pointed… at me. He looks a bit frightened actually. I suppose he has never been in a hostage situation where the opponent was a living corpse. Should I do the zombie-walk? No… no I should have done that as the first thing then…
Focusing on him, and him alone, I can feel how energy is rushing through me, and before anyone can even blink, me included, I'm holding his throat in a chocking grip. The fear and disbelief in his eyes, as well as the looks in the others', fills me with a weird satisfaction. They are scared of me.
"Tell me… do you fear death?" I ask the man in my best imitation of Davy Jones, moving his face a bit closer to mine. I'm actually a bit taller than him, and the way I'm holding him lets him float a few inches above ground.
"Let him go Fisher!" Suddenly I can feel a gun pressed against the side of my head. Turning to face Miranda, I have to wonder just where she hid that gun. Not on her suit, that much I could see before… women and the places they hide things…
"Come on Miranda. Why don't you check if that bullet actually can put me down? Oh wait, then you would ruin the precious brain I have, wouldn't you?" I ask while not letting go of the man. He's starting to gain a new color in his face, I can see in the corner of my eye. Looking back at Miranda, her gun is still pointed against my forehead, a look of doubt in her eyes. As well as a look of totally pissed off.
"Just… let him go." She says, not moving the gun an inch from my forehead.
"I might, but give me a reason, one that makes sense as to why I should." I say, feeling how the man is clawing at my hand, but burning his fingers on the green energy currently coating my body. A few scorch marks are starting to appear on the uniform I wear as well. Clothes and burning skin don't mix… I have to remember that.
"He hasn't done anything against you." She says, looking between me and the squad of guards surrounding us. I wonder if I can actually die for good if they all shoot at the same time, but for some reason, I don't really worry about it.
"Oh? Then who is to blame for me being here? Is it one of the other guards, Miranda? Is it Wilson or Langstrom here?" I ask, giving the unconscious man a light tap with my bare feet. I wish I'd found some shoes as well. Miranda doesn't say a word, just keeping the gun at my forehead.
"What do you want Fisher? An apology? You shouldn't even be alive!" She sneers, and the look of doubt is slowly replacing the confusion in her eyes.
"Ah yes, but that is the beauty of it all, isn't it? The unexpected little things that can mess up your day. Take me for example… which you did, mind you. I was minding my own business, just doing my job and keeping an honest and good man safe. Then suddenly 'snap', and I'm dead. Or, clinically that is… I have to admit though, that word never really meant much to me… now, I'm on one of your facilities… not Cronos though… this looks more like a research than a Head Quarter… speaking of which, I'm guessing Jack is gonna be boiling when he finds out his newest subject walked out the door… but back to me. You fucked up my day… and I probably pissed on the floor when Thane grabbed me… and now I'm here. To compare… this guy… sorry, I don't think I got your name?" I ask, holding a bit looser on the guy's throat. He gasps for air, the deep red in his face slowly turning pink again.
"I- Gaspar de Nôs… please…" He says, but squeezing a bit tighter, I manage to make him quiet again.
"Now… to compare, Gaspar here probably had a long week planned out for him. Who knows maybe a hot date? Now, if I broke his neck or choked him, that would mess up his schedule, wouldn't it?" I put some emphasis on my point by gripping him a little harder with my left hand, wondering just how tight those synthetic fingers can squeeze.
"What do you want? You know we can't let you walk out of here, not with everything you know." Miranda says, her voice holding a slight tone of pleading this time.
"My dear Miranda… I'm not asking. I am however, giving you a choice. You can let me go free and with no issues, and I won't kill every single person on my way around until I find a shuttle. Do not allow me to leave however, and I will kill everyone I find on this station. Regardless of age and gender. I suggest you decide before Gaspar here runs out of air." I say, gesturing to the man in my grip. His face is turning an odd purple now, leading the thoughts to a cartoon-character. Didn't Goofy once strangle himself because he thought his ass was a ghost?
"Take him down, no head-shots!" Miranda shouts, prompting the guards to start firing at me. I guess it will be the hard way then… I'm really glad I was right earlier. The green energy actually acts as a shield against the bullets. Like a biotic barrier. When they have all, including Miranda and Wilson, finished shooting and their guns are overheated, the only change is that Gaspar has a few holes in his legs, bleeding quite profusely.
Upon hearing the mass of rifle-alarms signaling overheating, I look around, meeting the terrified eyes of each of the guards.
"My turn." I say, throwing Gaspar into another guard, hearing the sound of a few bones breaking. I then allow the green fire to flow from my fingers, lashing out in a circle around me. A few of the guards aren't fast enough to jump backwards and avoid me, and upon contact with the green flames, their flesh and skin starts melting and burning, accompanied with ear-piercing screaming as the people in question fall to the ground, clutching at large gaping and sizzling wounds and holes in their flesh. Things such as clothing or armor don't actually do anything to stop the energy from tearing through them. I feel a bit sick from watching them writhe on the ground with blood and tissue pouring from their wounds, but the gunfire from the rest of them snaps my attention back to the remaining five people shooting at me.
Noticing that both Miranda and Wilson are firing at me as well, I turn around while the rounds impact on my body, simply evaporating as they hit me. I need to tell Roku to let me do this more often… I'm fucking invincible... although I'm probably getting the headache of the century after this… ah well, give and get… I grab Miranda's gun before crushing it with my synthetic hand, watching her eyes widen in shock as I toss her body at the wall, her biotics cushioning the fall a bit. I then turn to Wilson who simply drops his gun and crawls away from me, all color having left his face. Picking up his gun, I look at it for a moment, turning it over in my hands.
I then point it at him, and put a few rounds in his legs.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. Tell the Broker he can sod off." I sneer, then whipping him in the head with the gun, knocking him out.
"How the fuck is he still standing!?" Ah yes, I still have those… four, to deal with. Seeing how I look at them, one of them briefly lowers his gun, a look of fear and dread in his eyes.
"Oh, that's a secret…" I mutter as I pick up Wilson and throw his unconscious body towards the guards, knocking all but one of them down. I let a small smile protrude my lips as I walk towards the last standing guard, a pale-faced woman whose hands are trembling on her gun, looking at me as if I had become Lucifer himself… considering the fact that I just shrugged off volleys of gunfire, maybe that's not too far from the truth.
"Now, I don't really enjoy killing women, so why don't you just give me that gun and lie down on your stomach?" I ask, making my voice as friendly as someone who just spent forty-eight hours being dead can… it's not much, I'll be the first to admit that.
"You- you'd just kill me easier then!" She is actually crying. Thin lines of tears are forming on her cheeks, making me cringe a little. Just because I enjoy using the power Roku gave me to get some payback, it doesn't mean I enjoy inflicting suffering on people. Especially not women.
"I could kill you with a flicker of my wrist right now if I wanted. Why would I waste time getting you on the ground then?" I ask, holding up my hands to show that I'm not pointing any 'biotic' weapons at her.
"What… what are you?" She stutters while getting down on the ground. I pick up her gun from the ground, a Carnifex… with some weird muzzle extension, like an extra few inches ending in a cross-like tip. I think I'll hang on to this one…
"Oh, just an average guy. Just like you don't work for a terrorist organization. Now, this may hurt a bit." I say, and before she can protest, look or ask, I knock her in the back of the head with the pistol's grip, knocking her unconscious as well. Looking to the side, I can see Miranda starting to move again, and with none of the security-officers having called for back-up, I have time for a short chat before I need to get moving. Eventually, someone has to look at the cameras undoubtedly hidden in the room and outside it.
I grab Miranda at the waist, then placing her over my shoulder before walking to the table I woke up on. Placing her down there, I notice a few belts adorning the table, probably meant to hold subjects down with. Oh, the irony! I allow myself a smile as I strap Miranda in on the table, securing her hands, body and legs with the belts.
In hindsight, I am surprised these things are even still in use.
Content with my arrangements, I tap Miranda on the side of the head, careful to use the left hand so I don't burn the flesh off her head. That would be a bit extreme… though… looking at the now dead guards I hit with the green flames, I guess 'extreme' is a relative word.
"Wake up Miranda. We're going to have a little chat." I say, tapping her face again. She responds by opening her eyes, looking briefly at me and the people covering the floor, back to me and finishing by spitting me in the face. Wiping it off, I just nod.
"Hmm hmm… you aim better than Mister Leng at least… then again, I did crush a dozen bones in his body and castrated him with a punch… oh, and knocked a pair of teeth from his mouth… wait, was that before or after I crushed his hands?" I ask myself, enjoying the look of disbelief in her eyes. Still, I know she is a good person… somewhere deep down, so I'm not going to kill or maim her. Despite the temptation to do so being quite great.
"The hell do you want now? To rape me? I tried that enough before I escaped to Cerberus." She sneers, and I can practically see the memories fill her eyes.
"Hmm… I thought you fled home at the age of somewhere between twelve and fifteen? Though, I have to admit, ol' daddy really was a pig when he couldn't even find a woman to get you with. Speaks for his charm when he had to build you and Oriana." I say with a small laugh, looking at her face and body. Had I been a worse person, or just not in a relationship, I might even have considered it. She is the definition of 'hot' after all… still, I prefer people who don't order hits at people they don't like.
"Still, I am not going to force myself upon you in that sense. You're not as attractive that you can make me cheat on someone else, you know." I reply with a more serious voice. Her face briefly shifts into some more… relieved contours, before resuming the look of anxiousness and hate.
"Then what? Torture? From what I've been told, you're clearly not above that." She sneers. Damn, I shouldn't have mentioned Leng… whatever, done is done…
"Maybe. You see, none of these fine guards thought of calling for backup against one man, so we have some one-on-one time, the two of us. And I'd like to use it to get a few pieces of information from you. No worries, it doesn't concern Cerberus secrets as such, I already know all there is to know there… no, I am more curious about your involvement in the abduction and capture of John'Shepard. Oh and do refrain from lying… I can tell if you do."
"Go to hell!" She sneers, struggling against the restraints. I just shake my head, resting it in a hand as I stand above her.
"Been there, boring as… well, as hell." I say with a smile, causing some color to drain from her face.
"What… are you?" She asks with a small voice. The hate is gone now, replaced with fear and confusion. I shrug my shoulders, giving her a smile.
"I swear, is that all you people can ask? Who are you? What are you? How did you do that? Divines, it is annoying. To tell you the truth Miranda, I'm just a regular Alliance Marine. I fight for what's good, and I shoot what's bad. Also I kiss pretty women on the side, but unfortunately for your chances, they have to be kind as well, not ice-queens married to their work."
"Are you going to kill me?" She asks with a now calm voice. Looking into her eyes, I really can't judge whether she's pissed, scared, relieved or confused.
"Hey, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so on the Normandy. No… I have some… plans, for you. In time, you will carry them out and not even know it, but for now… were you involved in the torture and experimentation on the Quarian John'Shepard nar Rayya, and or did you know about it at the time?" I ask, now with a more serious voice. She has to tell me the truth if I am supposed to spare her life, which I would prefer above ripping her head off.
"No." She says, and I can instantly feel a small voice screaming "liar" about her. I just sigh, touching one of my glowing fingers against the palm of her hand. The reaction is instant, and lifting my finger again, I discover a small burn on her skin, smelling sickening sweet. Biting her lip, Miranda refuses to scream, only letting a few tears emerge from the edge of her eyes.
"Fucking… prick." She sneers. Yep, the hate is back on… well, she lied to me so…
"I told you that I didn't like liars… and don't worry, a few weeks, and that mark will be gone again. Now, tell me the truth or I bring you with me and introduce you to my girlfriend." I say with a small smile, enjoying the confusion mixing with the pained expression on her face.
"How the hell would that be worse?" She sneers, and I think back to what the others told me about Ash's reaction towards Jane after Feros.
"Well, the last time I died, she nearly tore the captain's head of, and that was an ally, a friend… imagine what she would do to a terrorist. Now, the truth." I say the last words with a more forceful tone, hovering a finger over a new spot on her arm. The bodysuit would probably look a little weird with a hole burnt through it.
"I said I didn't know anything about it!" She shouts at me, looking like her eyes could tear Saren apart just by looking at him. I sigh, burning through the suit over her arm. Before I press down, I look her in the eyes, feeling a little wrong for doing this, but I want the truth, even though I know now that she did have something to do with it. I still want to know exactly what.
"Miranda… do I really have to?" I ask, looking at her pained face. Apparently the burn hurts a bit more than I thought.
"Go and fuck yourse-gaahh!" With a sad shrug, I press down on her skin, leaving it a little longer this time. As a result, the area is a bit darker, and smells a bit more distinct.
"For the love of Mara! Just tell me the truth Miranda. I know it doesn't look like it, but I don't want to do this to you. Just tell me the truth and I'll leave you alone."
"Yeah right! You won't just burn the flesh off my bones the second I budge. I know your type all too well Fisher." She sneers, a few more tears rolling down her face.
"Really? Do tell." I say, walking away from the table. After a few seconds, I find what I was looking for. Returning with the canister, I gesture for her to elaborate.
"You all act like you fight the good fight. But the second you get power, you lose all sense of moral and go on a trip, hurting those not following your orders. Like now. You killed all those guards-"
"Because you ordered them to shoot. And for the record I only killed about five. The rest are just out cold." I say, interrupting her by holding up a finger.
"But you've got what you wanted, haven't you? You've got no one between you and the exit, so why are you still here? For fun? For revenge?" She sneers, and actually causes me to recoil a bit. Some of her words earlier held some merit. I need to control myself when I'm infused with Roku's powers, not start contemplating my actions afterwards when people are dead because of me.
"I am still here, because I owe it to John to find out who was involved in his abduction, and why." For some reason, my answer causes her to stop talking, and look at me like I just sprouted horns.
"You're doing… this… for a Quarian? Why?" She asks, and her voice has become a lot smaller all of a sudden.
"Because, just like you would do whatever you could to help Jacob, I do what I can to help those I care for Miranda." I say, sitting against the table with a tired sigh, feeling the burning sensation in my skin slowly fade away. The lines are becoming less clear now, and the glow is dimming.
"… Fine…" She says, causing me to look at her again.
"What?" I ask, looking at her with eyes, tired from mental and physical exhaustion. And all this because I pissed of the Illusive Man… how the universe has changed because of me…
"I said fine. I was involved in the research on the biotic modules we inserted into his cranium, as well as overseeing the reports Foster delivered until Shepard broke free and reduced him to a three-fingered dead-weight. I didn't ever actually see, touch or speak to Shepard, but I was the director or the project. You can tell him that… But, now what?" Miranda asks, looking at me with both doubt and a small amount of fear.
I can understand her. She just admitted to having been the director of the project that caused John to suffer from seizures. I really wish Chakwas had told us before he was sent in a catatonic state… he never even told me or Tali about the seizures, I mean what the hell was he thinking? He should at least trust Tali with everything… so why not?
"Now? Now…" I mutter, opening the canister and bringing it against her skin.
"What are you doing?" She asks, fright in her voice as she can't turn her head to see the medi-gel dispenser. Soon though, the soothing gel causes her to wince slightly before looking at me with changed eyes.
"Why?" She mutters as I coat the burns in the thick fluid, then placing it on the table. I think this is the first time I've heard her voice being humble. It really doesn't suit her as much as I had hoped it would. I sigh, pulling up a chair next to the table, then sit in in with its back against my chest.
"Miranda…" I start, then realizing I have no idea how to continue. For a few moments, neither of us speak, her just looking at me as much as her restrained head allows for it.
"I know you hate me, and it's probably well justified… I haven't exactly made it easy on you when we've met or talked, and I even threatened Jacob after he saved our lives…" Once again, I end up stopping, not knowing where to go from here. Instead I look around in the room, wincing at the sight of the dead guards.
"I'm sorry, is what I guess I'm trying to say… I'm not really myself when I… let loose like that, and I never wanted to kill anyone… though I still don't know whether or not I regret killing that Leng operative… but I'm sorry, for what I did to you. Both the psychological and the… physical torment I've caused you." I say, then closing my eyes as I let my head fall into my hands. If someone tries to storm the room, at least I can just storm out and leave them to free her.
But right now, I'm sick of fighting and killing other people.
"You… what?" She asks with disbelief in her voice.
"What?"
"You're sorry? What do you mean you're sorry? You just woke up after a hit we ordered on you, and you're sorry? No offence, but what the hell is wrong with your head?" She demands, almost sounding pissed that I regret hurting her and the guards.
"I'm just not… Miranda I fight for humanity. I don't see killing other people as a part in protecting those I care for. I… I can kill geth without feeling bad, but… don't tell me you don't know what I mean." This has escalated entirely different from how I imagined it. I didn't plan on talking to her on a friendly basis when I tore the guards to pieces, but then again, I didn't plan on any of this.
It just feels wrong to have her or Jacob as my enemies, seeing how I know they fight for what they believe in: Wanting to protect humanity from all threats. They have wrong methods when going about doing it, but I still feel wrong about having either of them on the other side of my weapons. I'm snapped from my inner argument when Miranda sighs in her place, causing me to look up.
"I know. I don't exactly enjoy it when I take a life, even when it's not a human. If anything I'm glad I was wrong about you earlier, with the whole 'prick on a power trip' thing… but why are you still here? I have told you all you wanted to know, why haven't you escaped yet?" I suppose she has a point there. It seems odd that I'm still here, and even odder that I'm spending my time talking to her. Not even half an hour ago, she wanted to cut up my cold dead body.
"Honestly? I don't know… maybe I just wanted to talk to you, you know? Try to make you realize I'm not some over-informed idiot you need to chase down and kill for the sake of Cerberus… I know, or at least I believe, that I can trust you enough to actually…" I start, slowly unstrapping one of her arms; "…release you." Due to either total surprise or lack of words, Miranda doesn't say a thing besides slowly moving her mouth as I undo the restraint on her other arm, allowing her to undo the remainders herself.
She slowly sits up, having removed the restraint on her head. I sag back into the chair as she removes the final restraints, getting off the table with a small amount of uncertainty. Rubbing her wrists, she looks at me, just looks.
"I'm glad you haven't instantly tried turning me into a stain on the wall…" I muse, observing how Miranda simply looks like I just turned into Jacob with Jack Harper's face.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you have settled my doubts. Underneath the shell of the Ice-Queen, you are human, just like me. Well, I may not be the best example, but the point is that I can trust you to not simply try and shoot me in the back… speaking of… are my things around here?" I ask, pointing out the fact that I'm only wearing a single layer of clothing, and that it's chaffing a bit in places.
Miranda looks torn for a moment, then gestures for a locker in the wall. Following her directions, I open it to find my armor and clothes stacked nicely inside it. Without bothering to look at her or to cover myself, I take off the Cerberus uniform and pull out my own clothes, trying to forget that Miranda is standing right behind me, probably averting her eyes.
"What are you going to do now?" She asks as I pull my shirt and uniform over my head, then reaching for the first piece of armor.
"I could ask you the same thing, you know? Aren't you supposed to raise the alarm and call more guards?" I ask with a shrug as I secure the breastplate, tightening the straps around my lower torso. It's always hell to put on, especially the arms.
"I don't know… for the first time in over a year, I don't know what to do… you are trying to escape Cerberus custody, but for some reason I think humanity will be better off with you out there, not tied to a metal table." I turn around, having clasped the leg guards around my thighs and sealing them shut. I can't help but let a small smile protrude on my lips as I look at her.
The face of the hard and cold woman who would gun down anyone opposing her plans is gone, replaced with the face of the more open and human Miranda I got to know in the games. She's actually quite striking when she isn't cold and calculating in appearance.
"You're sure? You know Harper will demand to know who is responsible for the escape of an assumed dead person. And how will you explain my reawakening? The hammer's gonna fall, and it's pretty likely it will fall on you…" I say, giving her a questioning glance as I put on the armored boots, interlocking them with the armor covering my legs. Finally, I take the helmet in my left hand, dimly noting all the scrapes and small scratches it has collected over time. Looking up again, I discover Miranda holding out a pistol, namely the one I snatched earlier on. She actually took it without me noticing it… I wonder as I accept it, giving her a small nod.
"I'll figure something out…" She says, looking like she doesn't fully believe it.
"I know. You always do." I say with a thin smile, placing the helmet over my head, sealing myself inside it. I have a nagging feeling in my chest that, despite me having freed Miranda again, tells me there's something I have to do. As I holster the pistol in my belt, I sigh, scratching the neck of my armor.
"Look… I really shouldn't tell you this… Mainly because me telling stuff… has a habit of biting me in the ass… but you should… probably have a talk with Nicket about Oriana, and in person… just calling him up is a bad idea." I can practically feel Roku kicking my ass for revealing things like this, but I always hated the way that confrontation turned out.
Miranda looks every amount of the confusion I expected;
"What do… why are you saying that?"
"Just trust me. If you do as I say, there's a good chance things will turn out for the better for your sister in the future." I say, grimacing behind my visor. Fucking idiot! You just changed events that take place in more than two fucking years! What the hell are you thinking?!
Yeah, my brain is smarter than me for once, scolding me for letting my mouth run free like that. I can already imagine the shit that comes out of this, Oriana could be caught much later on because her pursuers weren't killed by the team when they tracked her to Illium with Nicket's help. Nicket might reveal Oriana's location much sooner, or-
"Thank you." Wait what?
I open my eyes again, having closed them shut while cursing my own stupidity. Miranda not only listened to me, she actually believed me? She looks downtrodden, but at the same time relieved as if someone were just saved in front of her. I can feel my head starting to spin slightly at the realization. I bet there are going to be severe implications for this, but I think maybe this is one of those times where I don't mind the change in universal events.
"Don't mention it; just tell Nicket, that if he ever fucks up and does something stupid, I'm coming for him." I say, heading towards the door. Reaching it, I palm the interface, giving Miranda one last look. Aside from the burn marks, she looks like a person changed for the better.
Giving her one final nod, I exit the room, closing the door behind me. Now I just need to find wherever they keep the shuttles, and pray to God I can actually steer one…
Alright, leave your spare-change at the... sorry, wrong audience... leave a Review, is what I meant, and for me to get better, adress whatever you would like to from... wait, I'm most likely just discouraging reviews now... forget I said anything.
Still, as always reviews are appreciated, no matter if they are the day after this chapter, or the year after. I enjoy reading them.