A/N:
Alright, two chapters in ONE day!
This was written as part of chapter 40, so you might notice a few places where it keeps the pace from the earlier chapter. Also, I have just gotten 30.000 views! Jesus and Mara on vacation! I never thought I would get thát many!
Oh well, I just want to say that I love you guys and girls, and that the most difficult thing so far is to come up with names for the chapters. Still, they all have a meaning in regards to the story and the chapter as a whole.
Now, since you seemed to like the Batarians receiving an ass-kicking, I have something delicious for you people in this chapter. First though, let's meet up with our favorite semi-psychopath. And no, I'm not talking about Anna ;)
The pain we hold close
Normandy, CIC
November 3rd
12:22 (Ship time)
"Really Jane, I don't need to see a shrink. Besides, isn't she busy trying to help the Commander?" I mutter, detesting the idea of having to prostitute my personal issues to some complete stranger. I haven't even been on board for ten minutes, and Jane insists I go see our new psychiatric person.
Something about dying and doctor-patient trust. Not that I can understand that. I mean, am I supposed to blabber out about how I have a residing spirit reviving me each time I take a bullet or get jumped by a Drell?
"Shepard made a recovery some hours before we touched down with the depot. He's still not fit for active duty, but he can converse and respond now. Tali is with him in his private cabin. So no: She isn't tied up. And yes, I am ordering you to see some help. If anything, I know how the trauma of dying and suddenly reappearing can affect you. So you'll have to postpone the 'welcome-back' thing with Ashley until after the session." Jane says, keeping a perfectly happy tone while practically spelling out loud what me and Ash were planning. I feel blood rush to my face as realisation hits me.
Jane knows!
God dammit this is awkward!
I have to wonder though, as extreme as this is, just how did she find out? Did they hear us? Did someone walk in and fled without us noticing?
"Next time, cover up the camera in the leftmost corner... Just a piece of advice " Her comment makes my breath get stuck in my throat, causing me to stagger and almost fall flat in the CIC. Catching my breath, I shoot the captain a look, trying my best to look pissed allthewhile my face is turned redder than Wrex's crest.
"I...I don't..." I stammer, not exactly radiating pissed-ness. I want to punch something for being embarrassed instead of pissed that our privacy was invaded by a camera. If only my eyes hadn't been on Ash's breasts and body the hole time, I might actually have noted… wait a second, if the camera caught us…Fuuuuuck! I made porn for Joker! I am going to beat the crap out of him if he's been fapping to it!
"Damn… I guess I didn't notice it either…" Roku says, smugness in his voice.
"Ro- you fucking ass! You knew about the fucking camera you perverted son of a whore!"
"Well, if I had told you, you would have broken off your lovemaking, and besides, I'm sure it only caught the back of Ash riding on your-"
"SHUT UP!" I mentally scream, forcing myself to refrain from tearing something apart as we enter the stairway to deck 2. I have to keep a cool face, despite feeling like killing someone. Holy hell, does Ash know?
"What does she mean by that?" Jennifer asks, walking right behind me as we head down the stairs. The little girl's questions snaps me from my cyclone of self-doubt and rage, causing me to look down… or rather 'up', as she is walking behind me, Nikolai at the rear.
I'm just glad Ash took the opposite one. This would be even worse if she had heard Jane just now.
Now I just have a grinning Nikolai and a confused Jennifer to take care of. Just how I wanted to spend the first hour aboard after having been abducted and forced to kill my way out of the most fucked-up Cerberus facility to date.
"What it means? Eh..." I mutter, almost afraid of speaking loud enough for Jane or Ash to hear me. Although, I am more than ready to slap Jane if she says anything around Ash, or me for that's sake. Shepard or not, she's dead if she breathes a word of this again. The sound of disbelieving laughter breaks my mantra of violent thoughts.
"You're shitting me... You and Ashley did it?" Nikolai asks, sounding like he's about to have a stroke. Yeah, of course he had to hear it as well. Just because reality hates me, yet is merciful enough to kill me when things become too embarrassing. Can I have a bullet to the brain about now?
"Did what? Something bad?" Jennifer asks, sounding a little annoyed that she doesn't understand what's going on.
"Not so loud, do you plan on telling the entire ship?" I whisper, glaring daggers at him. The same goes with him: I'm close to killing someone, and no one is safe at the moment.
"Dude, that's awesome! When was it? How was it? How much did you fuck it up?" I want to punch him in the jaw, but something makes me chuckle instead. Maybe it is his carefree way of asking, maybe it's his own experience talking. Whatever it is, I find myself merely shaking my head before walking on down the stairs. Going from rage on a whole new level, to smiling, is a weird thing I do. Maybe I'm bipolar as well. 'Could explain how I went from wanting to rip Miranda apart to just chatting with her.
Still, for the moment I just want to kill her in funny ways.
"How was what, what are you talking about?!" Jennifer demands as we step out into the mess hall. I turn to look at the two of them, sending Nikolai a glare and a sweeping movement across my throat. He just chuckles and moves for the mess hall.
Jane is waiting at the elevator, looking at me with a grin, Ash leaning against the wall next to her, looking blissfully unaware.
"Alright, Williams... Would you mind taking Jennifer here to get something to eat? You too Tengberg, you need to start cooking again." Jane says. I am almost sad to see Jennifer leave with Ash, but I know she's in good hands. And so is Jennifer. Hmpf… funny actually… the three of us could almost go for a family… nah, keeping my mind straight, I know what's what, so… yeah.
"Alright Corporal. You have a meeting in the crew quarters in half an hour. I'd suggest you use that time to take a shower and get a fresh uniform on... You stink, just so that you know. I'll send her down when you're ready. Dismissed." Jane says, waving me off in the direction of the elevator. Lifting an arm, I smell. Jesus Christ, and Jenny never complained? I smell like the business end of a barf-bag!
Twenty minutes later, I step out of the showers, wrapping a towel around my waist as I cross the space between the bathroom and my bunk. A fresh and folded uniform is waiting on my bed. This is weird because I didn't place it there, nor did I even ask for it. Still, I won't complain. Having someone to do those things for me is really neat.
Slipping into the casual uniform, I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom. I get a small smile from taking a finger across the scar going over my left eye. It's healed up quite nicely in the past two months or so. It will probably always be with me, but so will a lot of other things. For one, I now have faint lines going all over my body. They are thinner than actual scars, and they are only visible in good lighting. Still, watching my arm covered in thin patterns is a bit weird.
I wonder if people's going to ask about them.
"Sod it..." I mutter, picking up my own Omni-tool from the bed; "Alright Captain, send the shrink down..."
"She's on her way. Be warned, she's a bit... energic."
"Energic?" I ask, cocking a brow at the description.
"She's very, very friendly... I actually think she made a pass at me..." There's a small amount of disturbance in her voice. Cool, a lesbian shrink… mental perhaps? After watching Doctor Strange, I am not discrediting that theory. That dude was weird in the head. Although he wasn't lesbian.
"Okay... I... Don't really know about this captain..." If Ash catches a woman making a pass at me... I think the word violence will play a part in the following events. Also there will be bleeding. And shouting. And pummeling. And more shouting.
After a few moments, the door to the room opens, allowing the shrink to step in.
"Listen, before we...we..." I mutter, completely losing my ability to continue speaking, as the woman enters the room, closing the door behind her. I can feel my spine experiencing a long shiver.
"Hi, I'm Kelly Chambers. Professional psychiatrist and mental councillor. You must be Thomas?... Are you alright?" I can feel my head starting to hurt. My face is itching and my legs are going numb. What the fuck is going on here? Who's next through the door? Grunt?
Kelly Chambers... She worked for Cerberus, but does she work for them now? What if she's here to spy on us or assassinate John? She always struck me as a psycho, but the good sort of psycho. Still, I better make sure she doesn't lock the door and stuffs the key in her cleavage… if she even has any.
"Eh... Hi. Pleasure to meet you miss Chambers." Yeah... I really have no idea what to do now. I mean, do I ask her, plain as day 'Hi Kelly, do you work for Cerberus?' Nope, that would never work. Also, if she does, she isn't going to just say it.
"You can call me Kelly if you want. It makes the conversation more personal." She says with a beaming smile.
She's definitely the same Kelly as she used to. For better or worse, I think it'll be easier with her than if Cerberus sent someone I had no knowledge of. This way, at least I know who I'm dealing with.
"Alright Kelly... How is this going to play out? Do I lie down and complain about my childhood?" I smile, trying to hide the realisation that just hit me. I have already met a good portion of Normandy 2 crew. I just need Zaeed, Grunt and Samara... And Mornin. Who's next, EDI, Ken or Gabby?
"If it makes you more comfortable. This isn't going to affect your entire life, so no need to be nervous. It's really just a talk." Well, she's definitely friendly.
"Sure... Let's just take a chair and get it started." I say, smiling at the red-head as I bring two of the chairs from the table.
"So... You just start asking me questions, or do I start with a presentation?" I ask, sitting down as Kelly takes a seat as well.
"That depends on how you want this to go. If you would prefer it, I'd love to throw some questions at you, at a comfortable pace of course." Kelly just keeps smiling. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect she's a mental. I just shrug, gesturing for her to start out.
"How do you see your place on the Normandy?" That one is easy to answer.
"That's a no-brainer. I live for the work we do here, literally. I view it as my... Well, some may say 'sacred' duty, to save as many... You know, that sounded really cheesy... Can we start over?" I ask, palming my face. I just recited what you are supposed to tell the press, not a psychiatrist.
"Of course. Take your time." She says, seemingly not annoyed by the way I just spouted the usual nonsense soldiers are supposed to tell reporters.
"Alright... I know this might sound a bit silly, but I really don't think I can do anything else in today's galaxy. I don't know what else to say really, I just love my job, despite it often ending with a trip to the med-bay or even the hospital." I say, leaning back in my chair with a small smile, flexing the artificial arm.
"I see. Would you say your relationship with a fellow crewmember has a part to play in your bond to this ship?" Seriously, how many fucking people are aware of that? Did someone look up the first journalist and say 'Hey, we have a horny couple on the ship, here are the details!'
"I guess... I admit it, without Ash... The things I have seen would have broken me if I hadn't had her with me, even before we became a couple." I say, keeping my face friendly as I try to figure out just how the general public became aware. Wait a… Oh for the love of Mara, it was Khalisa wasn't it? That reportage where I carried Ash back to the ship has to be how people know.
"What about your family? How do they view your service on the Normandy? And your relationship with Miss Williams?" As she voices the word 'family' I can feel my chest tightening up, my throat crumbling as if someone gribbed it and squeezed hard. Taking a deep breath, I look back at a still smiling but slightly worried Kelly.
"My parents are dead... Been that way for some time now... I doubt they would like me risking my life in combat like I am, but... I think they would have liked Ash." Actually they would have liked anyone I ended up with, I think. They were always a bit worried that I hadn't had a girlfriend at the age of twenty-one, and Ash is just the kind of girl my dad would have loved as a daughter-in-law.
"I'm so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" I know she means well, but biting my lip, I really don't want to explore that subject.
"I...would rather not. I have hardly spoken with anyone about it, and it's something I would like to keep to myself." I say, trying not to let my annoyance at the subject affect my voice. I have talked with some of the people on the ship about it, yes, but only when the subject came up, and only with people I knew I could trust.
"Of course. Would you mind telling me how you feel about taking a life then?" Kelly says, seemingly changing the subject out of nowhere.
"Is that necessary?" I ask, rubbing my eyeballs behind the lids. I can still remember the screams of mercy the female assassin made before I shot her in the head.
"Nothing is 'necessary', but a subject most soldiers tend to skirt around is how they react to the feeling of taking a life for the first time. How did you feel about your first time killing someone?" Is this really how psychiatrics are supposed to work?
I mentally groan, remembering the way I practically butchered the assassins after Kahoku. I still don't feel bad about killing the man named Leng, but maybe I feel bad about the others. And then there was the woman whose face I burned on Pragia. Bitch or not, that was just plain gruesome.
"My first one?... I think that was an assassin sent to kill Admiral Sullivan Kahoku. It was a woman, and I blew her chest out with a shotgun, then I shot again... I... I remember that in the seconds between the shots... She begged for mercy, begged and cried, but I just pulled the trigger, turning her head into... I... Her head disappeared, just... Gone..." The image has haunted me ever since. I know she would have killed me without blinking, but the agony and fear in her voice sickened me afterwards, shook me to the core.
"From what I understand it was self-defence... How did you feel when she died by your hand?" Kelly says, shifting in her seat.
"Honestly? At the time I did it, I felt great, filled with adrenaline. I didn't see a woman, I saw a target, an enemy. I was... It was like being in a game. My enemy was just a target with a gun, not a living being. That part only sunk in when all the assassins were dead. Then I realised what I had done and..."
"And?"
"I felt sick. I had ended up killing five people without even considering telling them to surrender... I felt like shit, if you really want to know." I don't look at Kelly, instead just keeping my eyes at the closest bed.
"I... Are you okay? It sounds like a traumatizing experience."
"It's fine. I have tried to let it go, but for some reason I want to remember the people I kill. I'm afraid that if I don't, killing someone will just stop affecting me. Is that a weird way of thinking?" I ask, looking at Kelly as she furrows her eyebrows. Then neither of us speak, me simply looking at my hands while Kelly apparently mulls over what I said.
After a couple of minutes, she looks up.
"No, I think it is a healthy way of thinking. I have dealt with more soldiers who lacked that attitude. They sometimes turn out fine, but more often than not, they become cold and shallow individuals, devoid of empathy. I think that if you keep in mind the lives you take, as long as you don't let it control who you are, you will be more well-adjusted towards the world around you. I also think it helps having intimate bonds with those around you, and love can be a good reminder as to who you are, as well as the fact that the people you are forced to kill aren't faceless targets, but living breathing individuals." Looking up, I notice Kelly has a small smile on her lips.
"That was... quite a mouthful. How long have you been doing this Kelly?" She's good at what she does, I have to admit that. There's still a risk that she works for Cerberus, but I remember her as the icon of how a member of Cerberus should be.
Too bad I never got her to take care of the fishies.
"Oh not for that long. I graduated from High Town academy of psychology four years ago, and finding employment was surprisingly easy. I like to think my broad sympathy for all races made me a good catch for my current employer." Her bright smile makes it almost impossible to suspect her of anything sinister, let alone working for terrorists.
"Right, I never got to ask that. Where do you work? I think I heard we just 'rented' you, but I have no idea what that means in practice."
"I'm what you could call a 'freelancer'. I work out of large stations like the Citadel, but I often travel the galaxy with different ships, providing expert help to the crews. I then make psycee-profiles for later reference, and use the profiles to better understand my patients, as well as letting the ships' captains better understand the people. For example, after we are done, I'm going to deliver an as precise report on you as possible, to your commanding officer. Which actually brings me to a question I have been asking all the other crew on the ship. This however, is a question I never add to the reports... What do you think of officers John'Shepard and Jane Shepard? The answer will stay between the two of us." Hmm, was wondering if she would ask that.
"Well... I don't mind them knowing, actually. I have known John since a few days before he was made commander, I think. He has been a good leader since day one. He's loyal, brave and when pissed off, violent as fu- violent as… He becomes violent.. He actually started out saving my ass on Eden Prime, along with Ashley's. He then continued his streak by saving Nihlus Kryik... by throwing a knife at Saren, believe it or not... I think he has some bad memories from past missions though..." I say, still having the scene of John lying curled up on the floor, burned into my memory.
"Jane, on the other hand... She's a bit of a mystery. The fact that her name is almost the same as John's just adds to it. I have seen her in action though... I would hate to have her pissed at me, let me tell you that. On Feros, she kicked a metal door in so hard, it flew through the room and smeared a crowd of Thorian zombies. So in combat, I trust her. Still, I don't know her that well out of action. I mean, she's polite and occasionally cheery, but at the same time she seems like she doesn't know what to do with herself off duty. From what I've heard, she spends shore-leave drinking. I'm not saying anything bad about her, but I think it has something to do with a dead friend." I say, realising that I actually don't know more about either of the Shepards than that. Kelly looks deep in thought for a minute, then speaks again.
"How do you feel about working for a Quarian on a human ship? A few crewmen have voiced concern, but you serve with him. Thoughts?"
"Honestly? I think it's awesome. Quarians are famous for their fleet, and John is a great guy. Plus I love Quarians, always have. As a result, I couldn't name a person I would rather serve under. Well, maybe my aunt or Admiral Hackett, but that's way above my experience." I say, smiling at the thought of Anna cooking up some sort of super-army with what I sent her... And a fleet of LA/AT's. Couple that with our new armor, and it's like watching Star Wars without the soldiers suddenly turning evil.
At least I hope they won't. It would suck if we got 'Attack of the N7's' instead of the Collectors. Or 'Revenge of the Turians'… I don't know, that last one was just needed for reference.
"Ah yes, I did hear about that. Hard to believe your aunt is an admiral in the Alliance Navy. How do you feel about that? Have you received any reaction to the relation or the actions of Anna Fisher?" Kelly asks, keeping a happy outlook.
"No, no reactions apart from Kahoku saying he knows my aunt... I doubt I should comment on her actions though, I don't really follow the events among the higher-ups. As for how I feel about it? I dunno. I haven't really given it much thought to be honest." I say, scratching my cheek. I guess Kelly is talking about when Kahoku and Anna tortured some Batarian, but I don't know much more than that.
"I think that's wise. Not being caught up in the webs of intrigue and such is probably a good idea."
"I guess... What's the next question?"
"Only one left actually. From what I understand, you were recently abducted by an organisation known as Cerberus. How did you handle that realization?"
"You heard of that? Well... I guess I just fought my way out... And I found Jennifer. I guess I kinda just stopped carring about what could happen to me, and more about what would happen to her if I didn't get her out of there..."
Kelly gains a broader smile.
"I can respect that. Putting a child's safety before your own speaks highly of your character." She says, then looks like something suddenly hit her. I guess it does speak of my character, although I didn't really think about it at the time. I mean, I was just trying to get Jen out of there, not thinking if that was what everyone else would have done.
"If you don't mind... And this is off the record, of course: Is it true you have green biotics? When I spoke with Corporal Aquila, she mentioned that when I asked her about her take on Noveria." She seems a little embarrassed to ask, which is actually pretty cute. Still...
"You... take an interrest in our missions? That has to be a first..." I say with a smile. It's not the first, of course, but normally people only care about what we shoot and how much of it we shoot.
"Is that a problem? I can stop asking if you prefer." She says, looking a little distraught.
"Not at all. I just don't know why my biotics are green. They just are. Also, I like that someone has some actual interrest in our missions. Usually the press just wants the gory details, and then sod the actual story... Also, despite me not being an adept with them, my biotics seem to be stronger than regular biotics... Beats me why that is though..." I say, shrugging at her puzzled look.
"Is it because you have better modules? Could that be it?"
I just smile at her question, it being something no one has actually asked me about before.
"Well... That would require me to have modules or implants in the first place... Besides my left eye, I'm all natural in the head." I say, almost laughing at her shocked expression.
"No modules?! But... how is that even possible? Is it possible?"
"As I said, beats me." I say, leaning back in the chair while taking in her confused features. I am actually starting to enjoy her company, if only for the entertainment value. If Kelly is a spy, she's definitely a better one than Miranda was.
...
Elysium, Illyria
"So I was picked up... I get that much. What about the rest of the battle?" Zaeed demanded. He was lying in a hospital missing a good chunk of the roof. The sharp sun coming through the hole made that much clear. He still saw the world as if through a glass of vodka.
The medics wouldn't tell him why.
Five hours earlier...
Somewhere above Elysium
"Torque! Head 43 degrees starboard, prepare to give us some flanking fire on that cruiser! H'veda, Cot'do and Mir'villa! Follow Torque and provide support!" Admiral Han'Gerrel barked, pacing around the bridge of the Neema. His cruiser was one of the more formidable ships in the Heavy Fleet, and as such it was taking lead in the counter-attack above Elysium. Han'Gerrel had under his command a fleet consisting of one Heavy cruiser, twenty heavy frigates and forty light frigates. All in all he had a force consisting of sixty-one warships out of the two-hundred and six ships in total he had arrived to the planet with only about two days prior. It would have been a bad idea to bring freighters to a space-battle.
When he had said that he loved shore-leave, fighting an entire fleet of Batarian slavers, had not been what he was referring to.
'This might be what humans call karma' he thought meekly, looking at the small dots making up the five-hundred strong fleet of frigates and cruisers.
He knew there was a risk he would not make it through the battle.
"Techs! Have they detected us yet?!" He barked, feeling his throat starting to dry up with shouting.
"Negative, looks like they are monitoring the planet. I don't think they expected us to be here." A female Quarian called from the ring of stations and consoles that made up the bridge around a large circular platform hosting a single seat meant for the captain.
"All ships, wait for my command before shooting! How are their heavy hitters positioned?" He asked, looking with both pride and worry. He observed the best and brightest of the Migrant Fleet, but knew they could be dead within the next 36 minutes.
"Looks like they have twenty heavy cruisers left in the center of the fleet. The rest are light and heavy frigates... Oh Keelah!" Gerrel's head snapped to the tech.
"What?!"
"There's a Dreadnought in the fleet as well! It's spearheading the formation, and its main gun is pointed directly at the center of the capital. If it fires, the entire city will be wiped from the continent!" Han'Gerrel felt ice running down his spine at the words. His experienced and seasoned mind went into overdrive as he calculated the different possible outcomes a hostile Dreadnought spelled for the battle.
How had the stations in orbit not seen the ship?
"Sir! Orders?"
'Quiet, quiet! Let me think' was what he wanted to yell. "Let's have a look at this..." was what he said instead. After having raked his brain for an answer, he finally came up with one.
"This is Admiral Han'Gerrel to the crew of the starship 'Rising Sun'. On my orders, vacate the ship and board the escape-pods. I want you to deactivate the safety measures and set your drivecore into an overload. As soon as battle is joined, set a course for the enemy Dreadnought, then evacuate the ship. Starship 'Tolstoy' will pick up the pods. Confirm acknowledgments." Despite using two human-made frigates, Gerrel knew it was a gamble. He would have to keep the Dreadnought somehow occupied if the plan was to succeed.
"This is 'Rising Sun' confirming. We are standing by. Full power to shields."
"This is 'Tolstoy'. We're ready to pick them up. All systems are green Admiral." Han'Gerrel nodded, having put his plan into motion. It had, he supposed, a shred of poetic justice that the ship named for the Human Japanese Empire, would be carrying out the costly task.
"Techs, report. Have the enemy ships spotted us yet?"
"Not yet sir."
"Alright... All ships, prepare to fire. Mass Accelerators against the flank, torpedoes against the second line of ships. Squadrons, keep the heavy ships from locking on to us...Fire!"
If there was one sight the Admiral would always cherish, it would have to be the moment when the projectiles launched from his fleet were soaring through space at a fraction of light-speed, drawing silver-blue lines across the void. It was a fleeting moment, but he always thought it to be beautiful. Of course, it would be less than beautiful for the bad guys on the receiving end of the shots.
A moment later, a hail of projectiles from sixty ships slammed into the sides of just as many enemy ships, as well as torpedoes following close suit. Gerrel's plan was that while the outermost ships would be directing all power to shields, they would be unable to intercept the missiles not bound for them as they streaked past them and hit the ships behind them. At least that was the plan.
In theory a ship wouldn't be able to aim its GARDIAN systems fast enough to intercept the missiles if another ship had just been in the way… In theory.
Now Gerrel could only watch and pray as the holographic interfaces displayed the projectiles and their designated targets.
He now watched as a satisfying forty-two enemy frigates and one cruiser crumbled under the devastating surprise-fire from the Migrant Fleet's ships. As the torpedoes made their way through though, an estimated half were shot down before impact. The remainder impacted on the hulls of the cruisers, wrecking havoc on the insides of the ships.
"Fighters, hard strikes on enemy GARDIAN systems. Bombers will then follow and destroy the ships. Attack formation Tel Nada." Gerrel barked, watching as slugs were spewed from his cruiser, multiple kilotons being sent towards the enemy.
"Status on enemy ships?"
"Forty-two confirmed kills! Plus one crippled cruiser. Enemy ships are turning towards us. Estimate we can get off two more volleys before enemy fire will force us to focus on shielding." The techs called back. Han'Gerrel repressed a small groan. True, they had dealt more damage than he had hoped for with the initial volleys, but now the enemy ships were turning to face him.
"Let's hope the Alliance's new gear holds up... Alright, Rising Sun: When we release the next volley of torpedoes, you speed up and head straight for the Dreadnought. It's the only shot we'll get at taking the Bosh'ted out."
"Affirmative. Keelah Selai!" Han'Gerrel offered a silent prayer to the ancestors. He hoped he hadn't just doomed his men.
As the fleet let loose another volley of rounds, he watched as the monitors showed him that the crew aboard the Rising Sun had left their vessel. It was now on full speed towards the Dreadnought, carrying a drivecore on the verge of becoming a new star.
"Enemy ships are firing!"
"Frontal ships, full power to shields! All ships, spread out and power up GARDIAN-systems. Make EVERY shot count!" Looking at the effects his volleys had had on the hostile ships, Gerrel gained hope. It was clear that the ships were not military standard, but rather pirate-standard. Maybe the Ancestors had heard his prayer.
"Incoming volley! Impact in six!"
"Shields to bow!" The bridge was alive with shouting. Status updates, reports and directions filled the room with noise.
Gripping the railing on the bridge, Han'Gerrel braced himself for the impact.
It came sooner than expected, and the bridge was rocked as the shields took the blunt of the attack, leaving the inertial dampeners to stabilize the ship.
"Status report!" Han'Gerrel shouted as soon as he could hear himself over the sound of slugs impacting on the Neema's shields.
"Shields on 89% and holding! Thank Keelah for Alliance tech!" One of the techs shouted, drawing a small grin from a few of the techs.
"Agreed, but keep focused on the task at hand. It won't do if we only survive this thanks to the Alliance's upgrades." Gerrel barked, causing the chatter to stop. Still...
Maybe there was a way they could make it through the day.
"Sir! Torque was just destroyed! Also, the Thel'Vadam is venting atmosphere. 67% casualties!" The voice of the tech was firm, but panic was evident in her voice.
"Dammit... We'll recover the pods after the battle. For now just keep shooting. How is the Rising Sun progressing?"
"Halfway towards her goal. Shields are down to 31% and dropping. A lot of fire is being poured at her." The tech closest to him answered.
"ETI?"
"About three minutes. But with the amount of fire she's taking, she'll be a wreck by then."
Han'Gerrel gritted gritted his teeth in frustration, his canine teeth scratching against each other. They needed something to even the odds. He needed to gamble.
"All ships, focus fire on the vessels targeting the Rising Sun. Ignore all other opposition until she has reached her target!" He bellowed through the COM. Almost instantly the remaining fifty-six warships under his command turned around to concentrate fire on the offending frigates and cruisers harassing the empty ship. Without the need for new orders, they all opened fire, desperately trying to simultaneously shoot at twice their numbers in frigates, and avoid destruction by the hands of more then two hundred other opposing vessels still firing at them.
Still, it achieved results, if costly. The Quarian ships fired of enough munitions to defaced a regular Garden world, sending thousands of projectiles and missiles soaring through empty space before impacting on the enemy ships.
At first they simply shrugged of the incoming fire, their shields being untouched up unto this point. But soon the relentless fire from thousands of pissed-off Quarians strained the systems, causing the cheap shields to buckle and short out after having absorbed multi-megaton of kinetic destruction. Han'Gerrel watched with grim satisfaction as heavy slugs started punching through the plating on the pirate vessels, causing balls of fire to be visible even from the distance of seven thousand kilometres.
"Status on both sides?"
"Enemy ships down to four-hundred and twenty, plus the Dreadnought... So far we have lost seven ships, not counting Rising Sun. If not for our new weapons and shielding though, we-" The man was interrupted as a slug detonated on the shields right in front of the bridge, causing the room to tremble and shake.
"Status?" Gerrel forced himself to remain calm.
"Shields on 75% and holdi- 71%...67%! Multiple hostiles are targeting us!"
"Redirect all non-essential power to shields!" Gerrel barked, clasping his hands behind his back to appear calm and in control. He needed to be, or at least appear to be.
Anything else and the crew would panic.
As more and more bright flashes appeared in front of the bridge, and even more trembles shook the Neema, Han'Gerrel realised with no small amount of dread that a vast majority of the enemy ships were focusing fire on his ship. Seemed like they had finally figured out which one was the Quarians command-ship.
"Status on our shields?" He asked, forcing his voice to remain below 'raised voice', and not to the level of shouting and swearing he felt like.
"Neema... I AM coming back to you... No way I'm letting you raise Juel alone..." He muttered to himself, gently gripping the medallion lodged beneath his suits's one plated spot. Only a few knew Gerrel well enough to know his bond-mate's first name. Even fewer knew that his warship was named after her.
As shy as she always was, she packed enough of a punch to knock Han on his ass. Oddly enough, that had been the reason for his attraction towards her. He later found out that Neema'Gerrel packed some power in a clean-room as well.
There was no way he would leave her like that.
"61% and dropping as we speak. Even with the power from the lighting, we can't handle this kind of punishment. If the Dreadnought fires at us, one or two shots will do us in!"
"Well let's not give it the chance then. How long until the Rising Sun impacts?"
"Two minutes and seven seconds! Her shields are down to 11%"
"We need to give her more time... Have the drones swarm the Dreadnought. It'll have to focus the GARDIAN-systems in order to fend them off."
Despite Quarians' fear of AI's, they made heavy use of VI's in space-based combat. With a population below twenty millions, they simply could not afford to lose people with tactics bound to produce massive casualties. As such, drones either programmed or controlled from a distance were a vital part of knife-battles in space.
"Status-update!" Han'Gerrel barked as a new tremble shook the bridge.
"Shields at 39%! A missile just penetrated us below. Casualties are seven engineers in tertiary engine-room. Airlocks are sealed and pressure returning to normal in corridors 4D, 11 and 2." A female tech answered. Gerrel nodded grimly. It had been foolish optimism to expect his ship not to receive wounds in a battle against almost ten times as many enemy vessels.
"And the rest of the fleet?"
"Thel'Vadam has been destroyed completely, but the crew escaped. Besides her, we have lost the Vadodara, the Hiljiyto, Qyonto and the Qunari have been destroyed. On the Hiljiyto, none of the crew escaped... The drive-core was hit by a missile that tore through the patchworks." Gerrel felt his hands curl up into fists. He had now lost no less than nine fully crewed frigates, plus the ships damaged but functioning. Still...
"How many ships have they lost?"
"So far we have one hundred and two confirmed kills, as well as numerous cripplings. Han'Gerrel briefly felt his spirit perk up. They had taken out around a fifth of the enemy ships, while sustaining only just about the same level of casualties. He lost some of that spirit when he realised that most of those kills had been inflicted on the Batarians while they were unshielded and unaware of the Quarian fleet.
Fully shielded and aware, the pirates were now a lot harder to deal with, even if their shields were crap.
"Status on the Rising Sun?" If they could wipe out the Dreadnought, they would have a good chance of actually holding. However, if the Dreadnought started firing through the swarms of drones and bombers, it could end the battle in less than ten minutes.
"Closing in. Shields are down and several hull-breaches. She will reach in less than twenty seconds."
"Give me a count-down... And a status on the Dreadnought now and post." Gerrel demanded, gripping the railing with tight fingers. It was now or never.
"Shields at 69% and dropping slowly. The GARDIAN has overheated. It's turning to face us in twenty seconds. Impact in seven."
Six, five, four, three, two and one. Silently reaching zero, Han'Gerrel watched the screens as the kamikaze-vessel merged with the blip symbolizing the Dreadnought. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, the bridge went quiet.
Then, a flash.
For a minute it appeared as if a new star had appeared in between the second and third planet in the system, the destructive power was that great. Then the moment passed, and the screens started reporting the destruction of the Dreadnought. Since the Rising Sun had travelled slower than a propelled slug, it had failed to activate the barriers on the larger ship. As such, a detonation sufficient to wipe out a small city had occurred right in the massive dent the scuttled ship had made in its foe. Had it impacted on the shields, it would at most have drained the shields five or six percent.
Instead, the explosion was now sent directly into the ship, melting, burning and radiating its way through the hull. After a period of ten seconds, the entire crew had been killed by enough radiation to make Aralakh appear mild in comparison, and even the Krogan would have survived less than two days on the surface without the Shroud coating the planet in shielding particles.
The Neema's bridge erupted into cheers, seeing the makeshift bomb utterly cripple the pirate Dreadnought.
"Crew of the Rising Sun, do you still read?" He asked, speaking through the COMS. A moment later, a heavy male voice answered him;
"This is Captain Tor'Shel vas Rising Sun. We read." Gerrel repressed an urge to jump where he stood.
A side-effect from helping Rael and Shala raise Tali. Actually it was simply a side-effect from spending time with Tali at all.
"This is Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. I am happy to report that your ship went out in a blase of glory. The Dreadnought is down. Good work people, Keelah Selai " And with that, he ended the transmission. There were still hundreds of enemy ships before them.
"Enemy ships are in disarray. They are firing, but with seemingly no coordination at all. Orders?" The tech from earlier asked, turning in her chair to look at the Admiral.
Displayed on the screens, Han'Gerrel could observe with a surprised expression, how the majority of the pirate fleet started shooting at new targets, turned around and collided with each other or simply continued shooting at the same targets. Whether those targets were still active or not apparently made no difference.
It was as if someone had just blindfolded the entire enemy fleet, leaving them blind in a bizarre free-for-all state of mind, with no one to order them around. Han'Gerrel's surprised expression turned into a viscous smirk.
"Kill them all." He growled. As he spoke, the entirety of his remaining fleet, turning out to be just above thirty, picked new targets among the clusters of disillusioned and confused hostile vessels.
Then a massacre began.
As each of the Quarian ships levelled their new guns at the pirate vessels, there was an unspoken order to fire in unison. As one, the fleet opened fire. A wall of plasma and metal was sent towards the bewildered enemy. As much as the pirates had the advantage in numbers, they had lost the fight when the command-center aboard the Dreadnought had been wiped out, crew and electronics being killed by radiation and fire.
Now they were reduced to a gigantic game of 'kitchen fun', or simply a turkey-shooting of epic proportions.
After half an hour, the only pirate presence in orbit had been reduced to a few dozen escape-pods floating around in the void. If it had been most other commanders leading the fleet, they would most likely have been spared. Maybe imprisoned or sentenced to forced labor.
Instead they got Han'Gerrel of the Heavy Fleet.
"Fighters are to perform thorough sweeps of the battlefield. I want ONE escape-pod, the one with a leader if you please... Kill the rest." He said, nodding as he switched off the COMS, then turned to face his awaiting crew:
"Men and women of the heavy fleet... Keelah be damned I am proud of you all! We went in with not even half the enemy numbers, and we beat the Kazuat out of them! The Turians couldn't have done this better! Now let's finish up here, beat them down there and go celebrate, drinks are on me!" He bellowed, his last words drowning in applause. Looking at the casualties, Han saw that He had lost only twenty-seven vessels in total.
Now remained only the task of cleaning the planet below of pirates. A task that should be done with in a few hours at most.
Maybe this actually was a good way to spend one's shore-leave, Han'Gerrel thought as he looked through the now opening shutters. The sea of wrecks and debris floating in front of him made him smile.
...
Illium, Nos Astra.
October 22th
11:07
"Hello there, might a certain Tara be around?" The newcomer asked. As Magnus looked upon the new face, his heart almost stopped beating. The words going through his mind were something akin to 'No! No fucking way! Not him!', although a lot of obscene words were used in his actual stream of mental words.
The man in question was wearing the exact same set of civilian clothing he had when Magnus had first met him and had wanted to punch his teeth out, then burn him alive. His hair was crop-yellow and he sported a matching chin-beard. The only difference from the original was a black tattoo on the man's neck, shaped like an orb or circle of some sort. Other than that, he was the exact same man.
"Gods in Heaven! Not you again, not you!" In front of Magnus, a cheery but slightly confused Conrad Verner stood, clasping his hands behind his back in an oddly orderly fashion.
"Who is it?" Tara called from under the ship. Magnus's face had gone pale at the sight of the most annoying and creepy fan since the 'By Azura' elf from somewhere in an old game.
"It's me Tara, mind coming down?" Conrad Verner called, looking in the general direction of the Quarian. Tara's upside-down head came into view from the bowels of the engines;
"Conrad? Why- I'll be right there. Have you met Magnus yet?" Conrad's eyes shifted back to him.
"Of course! Hi, Conrad Verner. I'm a friend of Tara's. You are Magnus then? Ouch, what happened to your face?" No doubt about it. This was Conrad Verner from the annoying situations on the Citadel.
Why couldn't he bother Shepard?
"Yeah... Hi." Magnus muttered taking Verner's extended hand. He still wanted nothing more than to test human self-propelled flight by throwing the man from a tall building. Behind him, Tara had made her way down and was approaching them.
Why was the universe tormenting him so much and often? Was it because of the Batarians?
"Conrad! It's so good to see you again! Omega wasn't too bad then? Did you find your friends?" Things were getting weirder by the second.
Conrad Verner... On Omega? The little shit would never have survived there, so how? Still, he decided not to ask.
"I did. Oh, can I talk to you under four eyes? If Magnus doesn't mind that is." Conrad asked, looking at Magnus with a smile that only a mental could produce.
"Sure, go ahead. I need a loo-break anyway." He shrugged, headed for the door.
The moment Tara felt sure Magnus had left, she turned to a sudden far more serious Verner;
"What happened on Omega? Everything went as planned?"
"Don't worry, Tarrak won't be an obstacle. If he won't abide we can simply have Jentha replace him. I wonder if the old four-eye even knows how much she loathes him" Conrad said, shrugging as he spoke. The change in his voice was subtle, but the effects were noticeable. Gone was the voice of an untested man, gone was the eager look of appeasement in the eyes of a once soft man. Now it was the face and voice of a trained killer and highly lethal mercenary operative.
"Well that's the loyalty you get when a pair of the dead bodies you leave turn out to be Jentha's mum and sister." Tara replied, her demeanor no longer that of a shy and vulnerable girl. She too had undergone an instant change as soon as her human friend had left the room. Now she had the calm and calculating voice of a trained agent, eyes steely and wary. Her stance changed from that of an idealistic young woman to that of someone used to the lowest of the low in methods to get what she wanted. She no longer wringed her hands while talking, a habit she put on to convince her surroundings. When she spoke of killing, her voice was plain and level, the mark of someone used to death and agony.
"I guess. How's the ship coming up?" He asked, giving the rusty bucket a glance. Conrad made no effort to show the disdain he had for that part of her mission. Before Tara had set out for Illium, he had offered her another assignment, stating that her skills were better used tracking down targets than patching up an old scrap-heap.
A few days later, he had been tasked with traveling to Illium himself. Apparently a Volus had tried to take advantage of Tara, and since she couldn't break her cover, she had been forced to act the innocent and scared girl. Surprisingly, a human had come to her aid before agents had been forced to intervene. Conrad suspected that Magnus was that human, given the fact that no other agents had spotted newcomers or counter-agents spying on Tara.
Still, the Volus had been an issue, and Conrad had been called in to remove that issue. It had been easy enough, really. Conrad's performance as the eager and untested civilian had fooled the Volus's bodyguards for the seven seconds it took him to take them all out with his hidden wrist-blades. After all, who said the classics didn't hold merit? Disposing of the Volus had then been the easiest thing in the world. Since it would make for quite the mess if he had popped the suit, Conrad had simply knocked the little shit out, the dumped him over the railings.
"It will do fine, don't you worry... I'm more worried about funding. I need more cash to expand the hold enough for it to attract the wanted attention." She replied, crossing her arms under her breasts. Once, Conrad had made the mistake of thinking she was making a pass at him. He still had the scars on his right arm as a reminder to keep his hands to himself.
"I'll see to it that you get it. Now... This Magnus? Does he suspect anything?" He asked, shooting a glance at the door.
"No... Far as he knows, we plan on hauling freight to colonies." Tara said, momentarily losing her determined stance in favor of a softer expression. Conrad noticed that.
"We?" He asked, a brow raised.
"I... Want to have him along. He can be useful." She muttered, her voice lowering as if she were afraid the walls would tell. Realization dawned in Verner's eyes though.
"Useful? My, Tara have you gon' soft at someone? Never thought you had that in you. Not after Bekenstein." He chuckled, remembering the reports from Hock's mansion. It still baffled him how easy Eclipse Mercs were fooled by a swinging hip and a pair of pronounced breasts.
"That was different. I needed the combination, and the guard was the only male who knew it."
"If you say so. Tell me, IF you think you can recruit him, do you plan on telling him why they call you 'Black Widow'?" He asked, thinking about the mess she had left behind when she had gotten what she wanted from the guard. Even he had been a little disturbed by the remains.
"Treading on thin ice here Conrad..." She replied, her voice low and dangerous. He instantly recoiled, almost fearing a reprimand for teasing a superior in that way. Ranks in the Hierarchy of the Blue Suns had become a bit irregular since Massani's disappearance twenty years earlier. Tara hadn't been around at that time, but from what she had heard, the Blue Suns had actually been respectable until Vido pulled the shitstorm of idiocy when he stabbed Massani in the back.
"Fine, be all sour if you want. Anyway, I am to tell you that the schedule has been settled. One month from now, we do it."
The following night…
Tara looked at the still sleeping form of Magnus Olaffur. He looked surprisingly peaceful when he slept, even with his long facial scar going from his mouth to his left ear. He looked like a man who had finally found peace after having seen enough pain and suffering to last a lifetime.
She knew he trusted her, maybe even implicitly. He had trusted her enough to tell her his story. Tara was still not sure if she believed it completely, but she believed that he believed it. Could she trust him in the same way? Would he even accept her story, and more importantly, how would he react?
His image of her would be shattered beyond repair, and for once, Tara found herself wanting someone else to accept her. Not for her skills or the amount of ways she could make someone disappear, but for the person she was. She hated this new sense of insecurity. It made her feel vulnerable, it made her feel incomplete if his opinion of her sunk or turned to resentment.
Even worse, if she told him and he rejected her, Verner or someone else would likely have him killed within the hour. She didn't want that. She didn't want the man who had shown her unwarranted kindness to suffer or even die.
He had proven to be, while not particularly peaceful in nature, that he had a sound mind. He was friendly towards the people who treated Tara with respect, and less than friendly towards those who were not. He worked with her, often to the point of him collapsing over the machinery, worked to the point of unconsciousness.
He was easy to talk to, and had a pleasant sense of humor.
They had completed work on the hull a week ago, and the turrets had almost been mounted to completion. The only things remaining were the propulsion-systems and the life-support systems. The hull they had tested, pumped its insides to a complete vacuum and made sure that it was completely airtight. He had been a huge help to her, and she doubted she could have completed the first stage of her mission without him. He even came to her rescue when the Volus had demanded his money back before time. If he hadn't intervened, it was likely that she would have been forced to kill the volus herself, but then at least one of the Turians would escape, and her cover would have been blown.
Therefore, it pained her to no end when she had to tell him lies and behave vulnerable around him. It wasn't that she had been completely dishonest to him concerning her past. She was indeed on her pilgrimage, and she had indeed been in financial trouble when they met. She also did idolize Commander John'Shepard and envied Tali'Zorah her place on the Normandy.
But that was where the truth ended and she had had to spin tales and lies, not to mention averting and skitting around the truth. When he had asked her about her plans, she had had to make up the story of somehow having managed to work up the incredible amount of cash she had borrowed. Anyone who were the least bit sceptical towards Quarians would have asked about how she had procured the money. Magnus had taken her at face value, not even doubting her word once.
She felt like Shit when she lied to his face while smiling. Still, she had had to swallow worse pills than that when working outside the dry-docks.
He cared about her, yet he would never know the perils she went through to keep him safe. She knew that he could discover her real purpose at any time, if he looked deep enough. If he looked around like she had done with him, when she had them check and search for any information concerning him. The fact that their best techs and investigators came up empty-handed made her superiors frown.
If Magnus found out before she could prove his worth or dispose of him, a scarred face would be the least of his worries.
For now, she just shifted in her hammock, looking at his sleeping form. Concern slowly gave way to exhaustion, and sleep finally overtook her.
Ready or not. In just 26 days, the Suns would have a new leadership.
...
Elysium, Illyria.
"So... We won in orbit with only sixty ships against five-hundred?" Zaeed asked, disbelief heavy in his voice as he looked at the people around his bed.
"We did, yes. I bet the Admiral will get some sort of recognition for that battle. He saved your colony from orbital devastation at the cost of Quarian lives, so your Alliance better be grateful." A gruff synthesized voice said. Zaeed looked for the source and found it in the shape of a man clad in red and with a glass-mask over his face. Zaeed couldn't make out the details, but his ears worked just fine, so he knew the owner.
"Reegar? Good, I'm glad someone survived that shitstorm... You hurt?"
"Bah, if a few rupture could kill me, I would be a crappy FarSeeker. Besides, you're the one with ruined eyes, not-"
"WHAT!? For fuck's sake not again! Is that why my vision is shit!?" Zaeed demanded, grabbing the shirt of the nearest person, ignoring the sharp pain stemming from the undoubtedly broken bones in his arm. A firm three-fingered hand gripped Zaeed's wrist, forcing him to let go of the startled doctor.
"Calm down Massani! You'd think you were used to that sort of injuries by now. But yeah, your eyes were littered with shrapnel. They were dug out and replaced with synthetic ones. Right doc?" Reegar said, a reassuring tone to his voice.
"I swear I go on one vacation from the Citadel and end up repeating the same surgery... Yes, that is correct. If the vision is giving you any trouble, it's because the new eyes are still adjusting to your nervous systems. Should be okay in time for your date with... Who was it again?" The doctor asked, seemingly turning to face someone behind him; "Oh yes, the Admiral! This is just priceless!" Suddenly the man sounded like he had been told a joke, not standing with someone's eyes dug out of his skull and replaced with smart rubber. Zaeed felt a sudden urge to bend the man's nose inside his skull.
"The Hell do you care? Who the Hell told you?" He growled.
"Oh word spreads fast around here. The funny thing is that I performed surgery on her nephew a month ago. Gave him a new arm and eye, he-" The doctor ranted, sounding like a father describing how his son had just graduated with top marks.
"Good for him, now shut up about my private life and get those eyes working. Where the Hell is Han'Gerrel? If he is interrogating, he damn well better save some for me." Zaeed barked, brushing the doctor aside as he struggled to get out of bed.
"Still performing sweeps of lower orbit along with the remainder of our airforces. From what I hear he managed to capture about twenty officers from the enemy fleet, so... You know the Alliance officially disgust and dismisses torture?" A new male voice said, this one calm and firm. There was a sense of experience in the way he spoke.
"Who said that?" Zaeed asked, trying to make out faces from the group. The blasted eyes weren't working yet, but he could see that the man was Caucasian in skin-tone, and he had short black hair.
"Still the insolent man, I see. I guess I can forgive it in this case. Captain Tom Conlin of the 6th armored. One of my tanks picked you and your squad up from the ruins." The man said. Zaeed quickly changed his tone when he realized it was a superior officer.
"Pleasure." Zaeed said, despite not smiling; "Zaeed Massani. Lieutenant of the 5th Advanced Urban Task Force... Now what did you say about torture?"
"Ah yes...officially we never use it..."
"How about un-officially?" Zaeed had caught on the moment Conlin voiced 'Officially'.
"It will be carried out only when no-one from the press is on the base. Also, don't leave marks." The man said. Zaeed had to suppress a smile. He was already starting to like the good captain.
...
"DR2 News, welcome I am Tine Daniels.
"Archaeologist in Northern Iran recently discovered a new cave system in the Malhrani cave. The current pictures show extensive rock carvings and cavepaintings. What baffled the people opening the cave was the type of animals and symbols depicted on the walls. Estimated to the age of 50.000 years old, the paintings show remarkable skill and details, showing humanoid beings bow to and flee from a large squid. Professor Amiee Lee Krios from British Museum had this to say;
"The details and chairmanship of the paintings alone are remarkable. Most other paintings from that time consists of stick-men and scratches, maybe a hand-print... These are almost the equal of paintings from early second century in Europe. It is fascinating."
"You mentioned that there was more to this than just the skill?"
"Indeed. We have found similar paintings in places such as Ireland, Australia and Mexico... How they could all share the same image..."
"How so?"
"Common to them all, there are depictings of squid-like creatures in the center of both lordship and fear. Maybe the Protheans visited our ancestors more visibly than we so far have believed? Impossible to tell for now. We're still sorting through bones and tools found in the cave."
"Thank you Professor Krios."
...
Normandy, Cargo Hold
November 3rd
14:57 (Ship time)
"Fisher... Why the hell are you dragging a pup around down here?" Wrex asks, shooting me and Jen a bored glance. I can understand why he wouldn't give two shits about Jennifer though. She can't handle a gun, and she isn't a krogan child. In other words: Useless. Cold, but from what I've seen so far, Wrex is a very practical guy.
Deciding that Jennifer might as well get to know the ship, I have taken her on a small tour. While I poured Kelly a cup of my brain, Ash had Nick cook up a proper meal for our youngest member. Well, proper and proper... It was a bowl of oatmeal from breakfast, reheated and coated in sugar and synthetic butter and cinnamon...
Who am I kidding, that shit tastes amazing. I just need to see if there's any left... last time I had oatmeal, it still tasted like army, even if it was Nick's cooking.
Meanwhile, Jenny is looking at the hulking krogan like a kid who sees... Well, a krogan, for the first time. I can imagine her surprise, seeing an alien who could just bend down and eat her in one mouthful. Still, it actually seems like there's only sheer curiosity in her eyes.
"Aww, you're a biiiig one, are you a dinosaur?" Wait what? I almost start scratching my ears to make sure nothing is stuck in them. I then think better of it, simply staring at Jen. Did she just call Wrex a Dinosaur?
"A what?" Wrex growls, fixating a stare at the relatively tiny human girl. At least it seems I'm not the only surprised one here.
"A dino. Big lizards with teeth who eat their enemies. You look big enough for that." Briefly looking away from Jen, I notice Wrex sharing my look of disbelief. Yeah, she really did just call him a dinosaur. Which in itself is a bit impressive. I'm pretty sure I didn't know that much about dinosaurs when I was six. Then again, kids these days are probably way more informed than when I grew up. Who knows, maybe there are pillows that pour knowledge into their heads now… I need to get me one of those, if that's the case.
"Is this really what human kids are like?" He asks, looking at me like I just announced pregnancy.
"Well... Yeah, in a nutshell that's about it. We start out curious and cute as hell, then we grow up and become more sensible. I reckon you haven't had much experience with kids?" I ask, smiling as Jen refuses to take her eyes off the big red creature. Looking back at Wrex, I suddenly notice a sense of regret and sadness radiating from him. These spirit-powers are a bit creepy like that sometimes.
"No, and for the record only few of my people have. Kids are so rare on Tutchunka that a clan will stop a war if it risks killing children or fertile females." Wrex says, not taking his eyes off of the bundle of energy currently trying to see if her arms can reach around the dino-like alien. Funny, I've always thought Krogan looked more like over-sized toads, but that's just me.
"Sod... I would say that I know how you feel but..." I say, rubbing my neck with a sigh. Wrex hit a spot there, I really should have considered that before talking about children with a Krogan. I mean, having your entire race sterilized isn't the best thing to hit you on the way out.
"Then don't. Besides, She-Shep already said about the same thing. I guess humans are the only ones capable of seeing things from our point of view..." Wrex mutters, slowly shifting his feet to avoid treading on Jennifer as she explores his two trunks with feet.
"Wait... Two things. First, just who did you say said that?" Meanwhile Jenny seems to have grown tired of examining the Krogan, and has gone over to where Garrus is fiddling with some large rifts in the Mako, like tooth-marks. I wonder what the hell could have done that to the tank, considering it's supposed to withstand anti-tank rounds. Could it really be that Tresher Maws are that powerful?
"Oh that? Figured that since they have the same last name, and that I'm not on a first name base with either yet... I'd just go with the gender and let that be it. Second thing?" Okay... I suppose that makes sense in a way. I would never do that myself, but if it works for him, then…
"Second? Oh right. Wrex, I think you just need to show the galaxy that the krogan aren't dangerous... Or at least hostile." I say. Krogan are dangerous… If you're asking whether he is actively hostile, I cannot say… EDI may have been more right than she thought…
"Just that we are. My people is trying its damnest to wipe itself out, and if it wasn't for the Salarians, we'd be spreading and killing... I gave up on my people long ago. Besides, my idiot of a brother runs Urdnot now. He's set in the old ways of shooting whatever he can't hump."
"Then just shoot him and take over Urdnot. Isn't that how power shifts among krogan?" For some reason, I don't think that was the best to say. Wrex is glaring at me. Oddly enough, his gaze slowly shifts to a more peaceful one, though still with weary eyes.
"Kill my own brother over power? While it does sound appealing, if just the killing Wreav part... But no... It would take a miracle to change how my people lives." The look vanishes, being replaced with a sigh.
"The Genophage cured maybe?" I ask. I can't see why it can't be done. Even if we don't come across some of Saren's labs, it should be possible to cook up a cure for the disease inflicted a thousand years ago. The Council might be technologically stagnating, but I pray humanity isn't.
"Heh... You try and find anyone willing to cure it... I'll put on a... What's it called... A dress, and perform in the middle of the Presidium." He says, a smile struggling to the surface of the old krogan's lips. As insane as it sounds, I might just have made Wrex smile because of something else than a good fight.
"Careful Wrex, I might hold you to that." I reply with a grin as I turn, starting towards where Garrus is desperately trying to keep Jenny from scaling the Mako.
…
November 3rd
Cronos station
17:22 (station time)
Miranda was standing at the large panes of reinforced glass, looking at the dying sun as it sent out waves of blue and red, something a sun rarely did. The blue was due to a rare amount of Helium and Element Zero in its core. At least that was the theory. Studying it was a bit difficult, since Element Zero gave off no spectral readings to identify it with.
Behind her, Jack Harper, commonly known as the Illusive Man, was leaning forward in his chair. A rare sight, due to the man always seeming to be in control of the situation. For the moment, he was wearing an even rarer face of intrigue and puzzlement.
"Miranda, would you please explain to me how Subject Zero was freed from Teltin when no one had approached, breached or otherwise entered the facility… and why Fisher's body suddenly disappeared from the labs?" He asked, looking at her with hard eyes.
At the window, Miranda still remembered the feeling of dread she had gotten when she realized that Fisher's path would lead him to the testing grounds for biotically adept children. She had had no choice but to watch in horror as a section or the wall suddenly was carved up and fell inwards at the cell of Zero. It was a good thing that she had been watching through a camera, as she had the feeling that Fisher would have been less than merciful if he had seen her after finding the girl. He would never understand how necessary it was that they pressed biotic potential out of the few biotics humanity could produce. Quality above Quantity, it was the only way.
Her fear hadn't lessened when he had fought his way through a group of guards, maiming them all in the process. Captain Stirling was still in surgery, as was Matson and Cutler. The ladder needing new leg as the original had been removed with her own gun, shot to pieces by what appeared to be a vengeful demon of green fire. When the formerly calm and gentle corporal had faced down Stirling, Miranda had felt like throwing up at the scene. He had burned away both her eyes as well as removed a large chunk of her face. Even with all Cerberus' technology, that was scarring that would always be there, as well as the need for two cybernetic eyes.
Still, she had eyes a chance when she saw them approach the filled mess hall, and she had then alerted the guards. The alarm had been sounded, but… what should have been a man surrendering, handing back the subject… became frightening. Fisher had simply picked up the child and run through a hail of bullets sufficient to cut down a rampaging Krogan. He had even killed a guard with a single kick, eviscerating a large portion of his chest.
Now… now she had to explain it all. The prison break of a child, the disappearance of a corpse, and how seven guards had been maimed by what the rest had called 'a demon'. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him.
"Sir… I think… I think it's best if we stopped trying to get a hold of Fisher's body." She said, cursing her stutter. She never stuttered, not once before had it occurred. Harper leaned back, taking a sip of his drink before he continued.
"Why is that?" He asked, taking the expensive Bourbon to his lips again. It puzzled him why Miranda suddenly seemed on the verge of a breakdown, something he had never seen in her before. He had sent her to raid stations, burn down safe houses, kill witnesses… she had never battered an eyelash. But now, now she seemed like it was taking more than just a toll on her.
"Because Fisher was the one who took Zero." Miranda said, her voice trembling as she spoke. In front of her, the Illusive Man fought back a cough as he had inhaled his drink in surprise. Miranda briefly started running to his aid, but he just waved her off, hitting his chest until he finally breathed normally. That was of course, until he spoke;
"What did you just say?!" Now, most people who knew the Illusive Man as well as Miranda did never saw him become flustered or otherwise worked up. Now though, his mask of calm was thrown to the winds, replaced with confusion.
"I… I don't know what happened. The scans and checks all showed his neck to be broken thrice, but then suddenly… we were in the lab, getting ready for the dissection. The he suddenly turned his head to look at us, and… his eyes… his entire body was glowing green! It was like he had ceased being a human and had… become something else. Sir, that man was dead, as dead as we could make him! Then he got up and started threatening us, he even lit his hands on fire and stuck them through a solid plate of steel as if it was just water. He-" Miranda had broken down, finally had enough taken its toll on her. Her walls had crumbled, her sense of possible and impossible had been distorted and her world had been torn up.
"Lawson, calm down. I don't know what happened, but I need you to calm down and talk to me. Can you do that?" He said, his voice suddenly having changed from hard to soft as he looked at the face of his best operative. Miranda collected herself, taking a new breath of air.
"Yes sir." She responded, her voice strengthened but still fragile.
"Good. Now, he threatened you, and then what?" He said. Miranda was momentarily amazed that he didn't ask about how a corpse could suddenly come back to life. She shrug it off though, and resumed the tale;
"Then, the guards came in, ten of them. They demanded that he stepped away from us. Me, Wilson and Langstrom that is. The Sergeant then called Fisher a freak, which I suppose is true, where after… it happened so, so fast. One second Fisher was holding a green fire in front of Langstrom, the next he suddenly had a bionic fist closed around the Sergeant's throat. He didn't kill him, just held him in the air as if he didn't weigh anything. Then he started speaking again, and his voice sounded like there was more than one person speaking. He asked if Gaspar, that was the Sergeant, if he feared death." Miranda said, pausing for air. Despite talking clearly, it was obvious that her nerves were on the brink of snapping. The Illusive Man made a note of having Kelly Chambers have a session with her when she returned from her mission on the Normandy.
"What happened then?"
"Well… I thought I could get the jump on him. He had only taken the pistol I kept outside the suit, but I had one concealed. I pressed it against his temple and demanded that he stand down. I… the way Fisher just looked at the gun and then me… he was completely indifferent about it. He just pointed out that if I shot, his precious brain would be ruined… I lost my temper and gave the guards the order to shoot. That's when… when it happened." Miranda said, sounding like she remembered the scene with equal amount of awe and fear.
"What happened?" Harper asked, leaning forward with a rare expression on his face. He was interested, no… interested would be the wrong word to use. He was amazed.
"We all fired at once, at least eleven rifles and pistols were fired towards him. He just… when all the weapons had overheated, he still stood there, smiling as he soaked up enough fire to turn a Krogan into a pile of fucking goo! He just… I remember his eyes as he looked at us, then said 'My turn'… and before I could blink he had knocked at least three guards down and killed four. Then he threw me into a wall, and when I came to, I was tied to the table and all the guards were either dead or unconscious. Then… then he started questioning me, about my involvement in project Aphrodite, and when I refused to tell, he tortured me. He kept talking about how he didn't want to do it, and how he believed me to be his definition of a 'good person'. I broke, I admit it. I broke, when he started mentioning Ori. He knows where she is, and I gave in. I told him that I was involved in the project, and then he… he…" She sounded like whatever he had then done had been the worst of the entire thing, and that had Harper more worried than the rest. He knew Miranda could resist torture, but she would go to any lengths to protect her sister.
"What did he do Miranda?" He asked with a soft voice. As a response, Miranda extended the palm of her hand. A burn was clear in the middle of the palm, but it had obviously been treated soon after it had been made.
"He treated the burns he made, then released me. I… I know I should have tried to take him out sir, but… I was just… I didn't know what to do. In the end I couldn't even stop him from leaving, and… I just sat there on the table." She said, looking like she was preparing herself for a major punishment, maybe even her resignation. It was well-known that the Illusive Man wasn't keen on failures, and surely her reaction and actions on Pragia were nothing but failures.
"Hmm… I admit, this is a bad situation for us. Still… had you tried to stop him, he would probably have killed you. I have seen the reports on the injuries… it would seem the Phase-II no longer cuts it, so to speak. We need to step it up if Fisher ever decides to come back. Also, Miranda?"
"Yes sir?" She said, her head perking up slightly at the soft tone in his voice.
"I'll see to it that Oriana and her family are moved. If Fisher, or by extension the Alliance, gets leverage on us, it would be costly." He said, refilling the glass. Miranda's eyes widened at the words. She still remembered what Fisher had said about Nicket. She would need to contact him sooner than she had thought then, if he was to remain a friend of Oriana's family. Despite what Fisher had done, she felt like he had been honest with her the entire time.
Now she was only dreading the prospect of ever meeting the Corporal again.
Codex entry: Alliance Mark-IV plasma torpedo.
As a result of the heavy funds being poured into research in weapons and shielding, the Systems Alliance has created a two new ship-grade upgrades for ships above drop-ship size.
The Mark-IV plasma torpedo, by most simply called the Javelin, looks exactly like the original Javelin-missile when launched. However, that is where the similarities end. For once, where the Javelin is a solid projectile lanched by conventional means, the Mark-IV is a sphere consisting of super-heated ionised plasma. It is launched by a system of rails similar to those in a regular railgun, but while it is fired, it is suspended in a magnetic field keeping it from melting through the weapon itself.
As the missile, or torpedo, has no solid mass, it does not impact or activate shields or barriers on a ship. Instead it will impact on the hull of the target, instantly starting the process of melting through the hull with a combination of kinetic energy and pure heat. Depending on the distance traveled, the torpedo can melt through meters of plating in one go, or if fired from a more considerable distance, put a large crater in the armor.
It is worth noting that the Mark-IV is unusable in-atmosphere.
...
Codex Entry: Alliance Mithrill Shields.
As a result of the heavy funds being poured into research in weapons and shielding, the Systems Alliance has created a two new ship-grade upgrades for ships above drop-ship size.
Another leap in ship-to-ship fighting was made when the Alliance implemented new shielding based upon ground-breaking scientific breakthroughs. Leaving even the Salarians baffled, the Mithrill-shielding provides protection that enables a frigate to survive a dead-shot from a Dreadnought. It is theorized that the Systems Alliance supplied the Migrant Fleet with these heavy shields, as a way of field-testing them.
It has not yet been revealed to the general galactic soceity how the Mithrill truely functions.
...
Codex Entry: Batarian Dreadnought.
While the Batarian Hedgemony denies any bonds to any and all slavers and pirates in the galaxy, it is a well-known secret that they are funding the commonly occuring raids on colonies in the Verge and the Terminus. Since they left the Citadel, and by extension the Treaty of Farixen, the Batarians have spent incredible amounts of resourses and cash on ships, and in particular dreadnoughts.
Data collected from the Battle of Elysium suggests that while the Batarians have dreadnoughts, they lack the mobility and firepower, as well as armor, of the rest of the galaxy. It is unknown if the dreadnought destroyed by Quarian Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema was simply an outdated model, or if it was top-of-the-line technology. The Batarian Hedgemony has been very short-coming in regards to sharing informations about the ships.
Alright people, this is it for now. School is starting again, so make due with what I have given you so far. I am always open to pm's and late reviews.
Good night, and good luck.