Well, we're back and alive from Virmire. The injured are being treated and we've got a semi-good, semi-decent Udina on the team. That means it's all going smoothly from here, right?
An odd manner of gratitude
December 5th
Office of Ambassador Donnel Udina, Citadel Presidium.
12:27
"How iconic that this seems to end with the same people who attended its start…" Udina muttered, looking as the Normandy crew, those uninjured anyway, slumped down into chairs or rested against the desk. John'Shepard was the one resting against the desk, while Admirals Oleg Petrovsky and Anna Fisher, along with Captain Anderson, were seated amongst the regular crew. Petrovsky was wearing the face of the exhausted one, and with good reason. Udina knew the admiral had been through hell these last weeks, starting from Pragia.
"Yes well, we're what you've got. Make use of it, Ambassador." Fisher said. Udina raised a brow at the woman, unused to her addressing him respectfully. Still, he nodded his assent and started going over what they knew.
"The Council is planning a joint-fleet operation to deal with Saren. We can only assume this means the fleets of the Hierarchy will start pitching in too, since the Citadel fleet alone won't be enough to scour the galaxy for Saren."
"Yeah, or they'll just demand we all stay here and guard their asses." Anna Fisher said, no small amount of disdain in her voice. Despite agreeing with her concern, Udina rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He would almost want her absent from the session, but she had the single most experience with fighting the Reapers. Also she was the only one who had fought the Valhalla-class Reaper ships.
"I agree with Fisher. We have yet to see any kind of commitment from the Council." Petrovsky said, rubbing his chin with an idle hand; "I would be surprised if we are not asked to keep safeguard over the Citadel while our own colonies are attacked. Kahoku and Mikhailovich can only defend so much, and Dresher is no longer able to command forces in defensive warfare."
"Thank you, Oleg." Fisher said, then turned to face the Normandy crew. Udina noticed there were faces in the crew he hadn't seen before. One was a Hispanic woman with some burns covering her neck, brown hair gathered in a ponytail. The other was a blond woman, wearing armor where the others were in uniform; "You people were on the ground, both on Valhalla and on Virmire. What kind of ground forces does Saren hold?"
"A shit-ton of unreal bad guys. Tech-zombies, Krogan-Turian abominations and biotic geth. Oh, and he is possessed by a Reaper. Breaths fire and throws the floor around at you." The Hispanic woman counted off. Udina waited for either Admiral to say something, berate the soldier for speaking out of term, exaggerating or lying. Instead, he found the rest of the crew nodding or remaining silent with serious faces.
"This is not the time for jokes, marine. Keep to the truth, the Council won't let us have a say if we start spouting nonsense." He said, letting a hand glide over his face. God, a marine with mental problems was just what the meeting needed.
"Hey, suit. See these burns?" The marine exclaimed, pointing at the darkened skin and injuries covering most of her neck and throat; "Wanna know how I got these scars?"
"Batman?" Fisher offered. The marine sent the admiral a glare, then turned back to Udina; "Not Batman then…"
"No…" She growled, probably only keeping in a rude comment because then older woman outranked her; "Saren played human torch and tried to strangle me. Hence, my neck is covered in synthetic skin replacements and burns."
"Ah… well, gotta hurt." The Admiral said. Udina cringed, actually pitying the marine that she had to bear over with the unorthodox admiral.
"Yes, well let us get back to the meeting, shall we?" Petrovsky said, obviously thinking along Udina's lines. The ambassador nodded in thanks before turning back to the marines;
"You said biotic geth… and what more?"
"Husks… and thousands of them. Hell, I lost count of how many I killed." The young marine Udina knew as Fisher nephew, Thomas Fisher, said. He certainly had his share of scars to testament to not just being a person to exaggerate. Or, he had gotten those scars for being a fool. The last time Udina had seen him, there had been neither a scruff beard, nor scars over a synthetic eye.
"That's not really very precise. Still, I'll take what I can get. Petrovsky, Fisher, what are your estimates on Saren's naval capacities?" The latter straightened up at the mention of her name, while Petrovsky was straight at all times.
"Whatever you call them, they beat the shit out of our current warships. I lost a dreadnought over Valhalla, and a shit-ton of good men, all against one big and, what, two small ones?"
"I only encountered the lesser types though, the crab-like ones, over Virmire…" Petrovsky said. His eyes had bags beneath them, a sign of lack of sleep; "Still, I lost more than half my cruisers, and two wolf-packs. And that was even when we had the jump, positions and numeral advantage."
"This is bad news. If Saren comes to the Citadel, like we think he will, and brings just his flagship, I am not sure if the current Citadel Fleet will be enough to stop him." Udina said, feeling a slight beat of anxiousness. It was bad enough that Saren had superior ships, but if the rumors were true, and these 'Reapers' were sentient beings, the galaxy was in for a lot of trouble, and activation 'Ragnarok' would be justified for use. Something he had always prayed would never come to pass.
"You forget that Saren isn't the one in control. The lead ship over Valhalla threatened us personally. Saren wasn't anywhere nearby, and it was definitely not a geth." Anna Fisher said; "The Reapers are real, they are coming for us, and they are overpowered to a ridiculous extent."
"Well great… I hadn't planned on sleeping tonight anyway." The ambassador growled. Honestly he had, but these news, the confirmation of the Reapers, that would just give him nightmares for the next forty years. Why couldn't it just be Cerberus and Batarians anymore?
"Hell, I'm on drugs to catch just a few hours, Ambassador. Get used to nightmares and sweat-baths." The older admiral said, running a hand through her hair with a frown on her face.
"Not helping, Admiral. Still, we should get to the Citadel Tower. The session starts soon, and the last thing we need is to be late for it." Udina said, glancing at the tower from where he stood next to the window.
"Great, but just a warning. If they try pulling any shit, like forcing me or Petrovsky to remain here and defend their asses, I'm off the station before Tevos can spell to 'fart'."
"That's a short word, Fisher." Petrovsky said, the hint of a smile on his face. Anna gave him a flat look;
"In English, and without translators. I have to account for the slow-ass elevator."
…
Presidium Tower, lower stairs.
12:51
"I notice your nephew is absent from the meeting." Petrovsky said as he and Anna walked up the stairs, Anna mostly content with starring at the blossoming cherry threes like they owed her money. It was a rare occurrence for him to see her look at a flower or a plant without taking into consideration how it could be used to kill something. She was like that, sometimes.
"He was more interested in checking up on his girlfriend, Chief Williams. She's in Huerta right now, getting a prosthesis for the left leg." Anna said, not taking her eyes off the three as they strode up behind Udina, who himself was busy explaining to David how he should not say this and that in the meeting.
"Ah yes, I remember her. Her grandfather was… General Williams, right? Defender of Shanxi, and the-"
"First human to lose a planet to an alien invader. Yes, that is her. Do try to be civil about it, Oleg. Even I can." Anna huffed with mild annoyance as she broke eye contact with the flowers.
"Apologies. It has… been a long week for me. Social etiquette is not my strongest side when I'm three days out of sleep. Still, what I meant was that I have heard some good things about her. Well, your nephew too, but her especially. The Williams' curse is a blasted thing, she has officer-material. Instead she is stuck as, what, Gunnery Chief?"
"Yes. Let's try surviving the next year before we start commenting soldiers, shall we?" Udina spoke from in front of them. Petrovsky looked up, noticing that they were not alone. Generals and admirals of other races, including the Turians, Asari and even Elcor had gathered at the area before the podium. Despite the required order demanded of high-end officers, the chatting went like in a classroom.
"I see we are not alone." Petrovsky muttered. Next to him, Anna just scoffed at the comment and strode through the groups of officers, carrying herself like the queen of Omega. Actually, there were striking similarities between the two women, now that he thought about it. The rest of the military personnel started quieting down, looking after Anna as she kept going, onto the podium and only stopped once she had reached its end. Petrovsky prayed she would not be brash and make a scene.
"Hey! Council! Can we get this underway? I kinda have a station to get back to!" Oh God, she was making a scene. Oleg palmed his face as murmurs of either protest or agreement rose from the group. The Russian admiral wisely kept the Elcors between him and the Turians. He was pretty sure he had spotted Septimus Oraka, and did not relish a new round of charges.
Slowly, the Councilors appeared on their stage, looking with what seemed like respect at the assembled officers. Oleg also took note that not one Salarian dalatrass was in the group. Were the Salarians completely uncaring that the Reapers were coming?
"This session is in order. Officers, Admirals, Generals, the Council has summon you because we require of you a joined effort to hunt down Saren Arterius and his fleets." Tevos began, being the leader of the Council. Oleg didn't miss, and doubted Anna missed, the fact that Tevos said 'his fleets', and not 'the Reapers'.
"How can you not catch one man? Who is even chasing him?" One of the Asari war leaders demanded.
"The Systems Alliance is, because the rest of you lacked the balls, or tits, depending on your species." Anna shot back, earning a glare from Udina, who looked like he wanted to shove Anna forward from the Podium if it could make her stop causing unnecessary trouble. Oleg didn't blame him, Anna Fisher had never been great with social speaking. Rally soldiers, yes. But civilians? Not a chance.
"Yes. The Council now sees that the Alliance cannot be trusted to handle this task alone. We thought you had the abilities to justify a Spectre candidate, yet the initial task is still left unresolved." Tevos explained, her voice calm and clear as day. Even from where he stood, Oleg could see Anna and Udina reddening like it was a race. Only Udina won, because he had been angered already.
"Indeed. Maybe it is time to pass this on to more capable individuals." Esheel said, her hand at its usual rest under what amounted for a Salarian chin; "Lack of results aside, the Alliance has clearly shown a lack of judgment when they annexed the Quarians." Oleg now felt ready to blow up himself, and was immensely surprised that Anna had refrained from pulling a gun.
"Shut your trap, Esheel!" Anna Fisher shouted, pointing a finger at the Salarian. Petrovsky was surprised yet again that it was not a gun.
"Councilors, you are exaggerating the problem." Sparatus said; "True, the Alliance has yet to capture or eliminate Saren. However, they have done more to bring him to justice than most in this room can claim." Oleg felt a flutter of surprise, having not expected Sparatus to speak in favor of the Alliance. If anyone, he should have been their main antagonist on the Council.
"Humanity cannot be taken from our role in this task! We have sacrificed thousands of lives in order to bring Saren to justice, and protect Council worlds and space. You would be spitting on a mass grave if you discounted that!" Udina shouted, having clearly lost his temper.
"Yes, we all know how good humans are at sacrificing their own men. Look at the Hierarchy, we haven't lost above a thousand fighting men in the past decade." One of the Turian generals butted in. Petrovsky turned to the Turian who, thankfully, wasn't Septimus Oraka.
"That's because we have been the ones taking the hard blows for you! For the entire Council! Humanity has been your shield ever since we joined!" The Russian growled, struggling to keep his voice level; "You Turians grew lax when you realized that you could shirk the duties you always boast. Humanity was your dog, we were the ones attacked when your patrols couldn't be bothered to prevent Batarians from attacking our colonies!"
"Admiral, please. The Batarian Hegemony had nothing to do with the attack on your colony of Elysium. It has been cleared that the attack was carried out by pirates." Tevos said, her voice loud yet calm and diplomatic, like always.
"You weren't on Elysium! The reports speak of professional soldiers! Military-grade ships! Where the fuck do pirates get a modern Batarian dreadnought from?!" Anna shouted back, her fists clenched white while her face was redder than Udina's.
"The black market is infamous for procuring such items. The soldiers were likely mercenaries, former military personnel." Esheel said. Sparatus looked like he wanted to make a very not-councilor-like comment to that, yet kept his tongue.
"You are protecting the Batarians, you protected Saren, and now you want to take us away from the hunt? I am sick of this Council and its anti-human bullshit!" Udina shouted, shoving his way past Anna. Surprisingly, Oleg found her to not only allow him, but to appear pleased at his move.
"Ambassador, you forget your place!" Esheel called out, sounding less than pleased.
"No, I remember my place." Udina growled back; "My place is serving the human race. If we went along with your demands, Saren would go unpunished. I will not allow a man who killed thousands of innocents, and tens of thousands of servicemen, to go unpunished."
"Regardless of what you believe, it is up to the Council to decide, not you, Ambassador." Tevos said with a sharp voice, then changed it back to the honeyed tones; "This is a moment of unity, where the Citadel races must come together for the common good."
"Hesitant. It is my belief, that the Alliance stands the best chance of success. With respect. We think the Normandy is fit for the task." The Elcor caught Oleg's eyes. He was dressed in what could be best described as ceremonial armor for a war elephant. Of course, there were differences, but the concept was the same; "With embarrassment. My people have yet to recognize Saren as an active threat."
"Saren is a Turian, which is why it should be my people who brought him in." A turian exclaimed; "Councilors, I humbly ask that you turn the mantle of Saren's capture over to the ones it should have belonged to all along: The Turian Hierarchy."
"Saren is not solely the issue of the Hierarchy, General Tulius. The Systems Alliance has been worst hit by his attacks. It would be just to let them see this through." Sparatus argued, earning yet another surprised look from Oleg. The Turian councilor kept throwing bombs this day, and his two colleagues proved less competent.
"However, General Akenos Tulius speaks with merit. The Turian Hierarchy has a history of success in retrieving rogue figures." Tevos said, earning a baffled look from her Turian colleague.
"That does not mean we should bereave the Alliance of their task."
"I agree with Tevos. Humanity did their best, but in the end all they achieved was death and illegal bombardment of a garden world." Esheel said, looking pointedly at Oleg. The Russian Admiral felt anger and rage rise in him, hearing the Salarian dismiss thousands of dead soldiers with such contempt. Looking everywhere but at the Salarian, he caught Anna Fisher's look. She was literally pulsating with rage.
"You keep dismissing human sacrifices! I will not stand for this!" Udina shouted.
"I believe we should put it to a vote. In this session though, we will involve all present leaders. Those who are for shifting the mantle of duty to the Turian Hierarchy, make it so known" Tevos said, snapping all those present from their stupor of either rage or satisfaction.
A score of Omnitools were ignited and votes were given. A large holographic display showed the votes being cast. Twelve for, five against.
Oleg felt his chest constrict with humility and shame, anger pulsating through his veins at a pace faster than he would have thought possible. The Council had just spat on the memories and sacrifices, on everything the Alliance had done and sacrificed for the Council, for the Galaxy. Thousands upon thousands of good men and women, hundreds of ships, all lost to a cause the Council now dismissed as failed.
"You can't do this!" Anna screeched, doing everything but pulling a gun on the Asari. She stepped all the way to the front of the podium, hands trembling.
"The ayes have it. The hunt for Saren Arterius is hereby passed on to the Turian Hierarchy. The Alliance will shift its focus to the preparation for defending the Citadel, should Saren arrive here." Tevos said, a rare hint of smug satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.
"No! I will not allow this! Thousands of human lives have been lost keeping you safe, and this is how you repay us?!" Udina nearly screamed, his face so red it looked unnatural. His entire body, like Oleg's, was shaking with wrath.
"Settle down ambassador. We respect the sacrifices carried out by the Systems-" Esheel began.
"The Fuck you do!" Anna shouted, her middle finger trembling in rage as she held it at the Council. Normally, Oleg would have cringed at this sort of behavior, as would Udina. He was also surprised to note that Anderson had not said a word. Looking to the captain, the reason was clear.
The man was deathly pale, his entire body rigid and trembling with disbelief and anger. He was leaning against the railing, supported by the crew of the Normandy. Oleg's eyes went to the Quarian in the group, John'Shepard. The commander was livid, his hands curling into fists that Oleg suspected would fit best into the face of either Esheel or Tevos. Shepard's mouthpiece was constantly alight, betraying the fact that, along with the man's trembling, Shepard was in the middle of a tantrum only silenced by his helmet.
"The Systems Alliance will, as mentioned, shift its focus to the defense of the Citadel. This is the center of all galactic commerce and diplomacy, and as such it needs a proper defense-fleet. Admiral Petrovsky, the Council request that your fleet, as well as the tenth fleet will be tied to the Citadel Defense Fleet, seeing as the Turians will have more important matters now." Tevos spoke with a smile on her face. Oleg wasn't aware how he refrained from testing if he could jump across the gap from the podium and strangle the Asari, but he managed to remain collected enough to speak.
"Honored Councilor. I am afraid I cannot abide by those wishes. The 6th Raiders will remain at the station for only as long as repairs will take. After that, we will leave."
"You are aware that denying the Council a request is not a wise move, are you not?" Tevos said, a more insulted tone now creeping into her voice.
"I am. Are you aware that my fleet lost almost half its ships during a battle with the Reapers?" Oleg said, making sure he put volume into the 'Reapers'; "The Raiders are not a defensive fleet. We are a fleet made for planetary raids, invasions and blitzkrieg. Even if we were a defensive fleet and at full strength, I would not sacrifice one man on this Council. That, is my answer." And it felt oddly satisfactory to see the smug look on Esheel's face become one of outrage. Tevos remained outwardly calm though, if for a small twitch in her left eye.
"Admiral Fisher. It falls to you then to-" The Asari started, changing focus and sweet tone to Anna. The old Admiral just held a finger up, ordering the Councilor to silence.
"I lost fifty-thousand men in a battle this Council dismisses. I lost fifty-thousand men in a battle this Council just spat on. If it wasn't for the fact that other people live on this station, I would gladly let Saren run roughshod over this place before I killed him myself. You have my answer, and now my goodbye as well."
"Admiral Fisher! You will not walk away from the Council when you have not been dismissed!" Esheel shouted. The admiral slowly turned to the Salarian, looked at her for a moment, then shrugged;
"Councilors, Sparatus oddly enough excluded… Go find a cactus and fuck yourselves with it." The part that really made Oleg recognize the sickened anger and rage in her words, was the fact that they were said with a smile and a calm voice. The woman then turned and walked down the stairs, beckoning the crew of the Normandy to follow and bring Anderson, the old captain not able to walk straight by himself. Oleg understood, if nothing else. To have your memory, your role and duty dismissed in such disrespectful a way, was enough to bring anyone down. David didn't deserve it, Lord knows he didn't deserve it.
Back, remaining at the Podium, was now only Udina, standing stock-still in the middle of the sea of accusations and shouting. Oleg himself was tempted to leave the room in Anna's wake, but knew that Udina, political know-how or not, would be slaughtered if he was left alone.
"Ambassador… it is imperative that the Alliance takes part in defending this station when the time comes. You have a duty towards the galactic community." Tevos said. Udina breathed fast breaths, seemingly fighting an urge to shout. Oleg had rarely admired the man more than today. Finally Udina seemed enough under control to speak;
"Councilor… I believe Humanity already has done its duty towards this Council, as well as the galactic community."
"Tevos, just let this go." Sparatus argued from the side. He had been noticeably quiet for much of the session, being the opinion in minority. Tevos didn't answer him, instead focused on Udina and Oleg;
"Your duty is determined by the Citadel Council. It is what we say it is, as is the law in Council space."
"You refer to the Council as were it the leaders of a fascist police-state. If this is supposed to be a democracy, you cannot dismiss the sacrifices made by the Alliance, then demand that we make more." Oleg interrupted. The Asari sent him a glare; "
"Admiral, I do believe your role has already been determined."
"No, it has not. You want to believe you hold absolute power? Well, you do not. I lost more than three thousand men in a battle to capture Saren, I lost one of the brightest military strategists, Sasha Tokev, in a battle you so blatantly disregard. I repeat that I will not allow a single member of my fleet to die for your safety."
"Which they will, if the greater good demands it." Esheel said.
"If that is the will of the Council… then maybe Humanity would be better off outside your glorious community." Udina said, then turned and left the podium; "We will endeavor to make sure Saren is dealt with, but beyond that, consider yourselves lucky if you see humans coming to your aid in the future."
Oleg felt a shiver going down his spine at the implications and possible consequences of Udina's words, yet kept his silence as he followed Udina down the stairs and out the room. He only looked back once, to see the military leaders of the other races stand in disbelief, and Sparatus glaring at his colleagues.
…
December 6th
Citadel, Presidium.
Huerta Memorial Hospital
13:34
"Hey…"
"Hey yourself…"
"How are you feeling?" Thomas asked, placing his hand on Ashley's. Her fingers locked with his as response, granting him that piece of relief at least. She was lying covered with thin sheets, her left "leg" protruding from the covers through the hole that started at her thigh. There was a stark difference in colors between the flash-grown skin covering the synthetic limb, and the rest of her body, betraying the fact that the perfectly human-looking appendix was not her own from birth. Thomas briefly glanced at his left arm.
"Not… I've been better." Ashley muttered, looking back at him. Her expression was one of distress, and Thomas didn't need to ask what was wrong. He knew all too well the unreal experience it was to wake up with a limb that wasn't you own.
"I'm sorry." He said, squeezing her hand tighter. She squeezed it back, forcing a smile to her face;
"It's okay. You did all you could…" She said. Thomas shook his head slowly, not really believing that. He could have done something, something more, something else, something so that Ashley wouldn't have to go through the emotional hell it was to wake up with a bionic arm or leg.
"I don't… I don't know. I could have done something, something to prevent… this" He spoke with regret, feeling his chest constrict at the knowledge that this had happened to her because he hadn't been there to protect her. Her leg had been turned into boiled meat and metal, and it was because he hadn't been there.
"Thomas, it's okay. You really did make a difference." Ashley said, taking his hand in both of hers now.
"How? What difference did I make when you… when you lost your leg?"
"I'm still alive." She stated, her voice with such surety and gratefulness that he had a hard time breathing for the moments it took him to comprehend her honesty. It was true, and he had failed to realize this, to remember this, the moment he walked into the hospital. All he had been able to see was the doctors attaching the new leg to her body, a piece of dead synthetic tissue that would help her, but never be part of her completely. It would be like a glove, familiar and useful, but he knew she would never think of it as a part of her natural body. His own arm and hand was a testament to this, bereft of the senses his right arm possessed, only providing basic informations, like pain or touch.
"I… sorry, I just… I know, and I am so, so happy that you are. I can't imagine what I would have done if… if you…" His throat tightened up; "I don't know what I would have done."
Ashley smiled at him, and his dread and guilt went out the window, for the time being at least. He pushed his chair closer to her bed, allowing her to run her fingers through his short but scruffy beard. It was a new, however strange sensation of having her fingers touch him like this, and it helped take his mind from her recovering state.
"I know. You're a protective sort, you know that?" She smiled again, a teasing look in her eyes.
"Funny, people always called me 'self-righteous' or 'overly just'… protective is a new one." He said, gripping her hand with his own, natural one. There was little loving sensation to be felt through a bionic limb.
"Well, maybe you are that too…" She smirked, causing him to give her a look intended to be flat, but ended up entertained instead; "But mostly protective… is Hillary still here?"
Thomas nodded, looking behind him. Hillary was waiting outside the room, having said that she 'didn't want to disturb the love-doves', which had served to annoy him greatly, as she gave him a really Hillary-like smirk to punctuate her statement. Why had he missed her again?
"Yeah, she's outside the room. She wanted to give us some privacy, don't know why though." He said, rubbing his neck. He was still pissed at Anna for telling Hillary about him and Ashley. Old fart had no right to go spouting about his love life. Especially to someone who, in the short time he had gotten to know her, had proven to rival Joker in snarky remarks, dry humor and utter lack of respect for taboos.
"Does she, you know, know about us?" Ashley asked, a little insecurity to her voice. Thomas sighed;
"Yep… Anna had to be the one to pick her up before we got back. And of course she had to reveal every single little secret, short of pointing Roku out." Right, that was a thing he would have to inform Ashley of before they got back on the Normandy. Roku was currently milling about the ship, getting acquainted with the crew while getting used to having to walk around. Thomas just hoped he hadn't scared Joker so badly the pilot broke something.
Considering the fact you could hit Joker with a toothbrush and he would break something, Roku doing the same wasn't completely out of the picture.
"He's still on his little power-trip?" Ashley asked, rolling her eyes. Thomas cracked a small smile at that, as Ashley rolling her eyes was a rare thing to see. Coupled with a smile on her lips, it was absolutely adorable. A lot of her little oddities were, actually. Like when she got nervous, she would either start pulling at her pants, just a little. Or, she would demand a round on the mats. The latter often led to other things, which just made said nervousness a good sign.
"Well… there's been a development." Thomas started, not sure how to say 'Hey, that god-like guy in my head? Yeah, he's living in a geth now'. It was really not easy to speak of; "You see… Roku… moved out, so to speak."
Now Ashley wasn't rolling her eyes anymore, instead starring at Thomas with at first wide eyes, then narrowed;
"You mean he isn't… in there, anymore?"
"Yeah… just, don't be surprised to see a geth walking about the Normandy when we get-"
"A geth!?" Ashley exclaimed, cutting him off. Thomas sighed, something that somehow seemed to be mandatory each time he started explaining a new event that couldn't quite be explained with science; "Sorry… but, a geth?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I have no idea how, and neither does he. Roku, by the way, is currently still beyond annoyed that he has to walk around now. Apparently I was a bus of some sort. Odd how things work like that. But, there it is. We both seem able to fire away still though, so I'm not sure what happened." He said, offering her all the answer he could, in the form of a shrug.
"Okay, that's weird. Weird, as in weird like your revelation on Therum-kind of weird… Hillary doesn't know, does she?" Ashley suddenly seemed worried, which Thomas could sort of understand. Despite how Hillary seemed to joke about a lot of things, waking up to a geth possessed by a god, companion of a dimensional traveler, seemed a bit much to hope for her to understand.
"Not that I know of, no…"
"Then maybe we should refrain from mentioning. At least until she's gotten herself situated, you know?" Ashley said, looking Thomas straight in the eye. He never could look away when she did that, nor could he escape the feeling of her knowing his every thought. He never was sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
"Right… because she would take it so well to be told of the phenomenal amount of shitstorms raging right now." Thomas chuckled lightly, shaking his head at the surreal feel to it all.
"Oh? What would you consider a shitstorm?" Ashley asked with a raised brow, a small smirk playing on her lips. Thomas knew this game all too well, having played it with her often, this woman who defied the odds and came out alive from Virmire.
"Hmm… what would I call a shitstorm?" He said, adding a pondering tone to his voice as he tapped his chin with the bionic hand, the other gently caressing the back of hers, slowly travelling down her arm.
"Stop it- "She giggled as he found one of her ticklish spots; "-we can't do that in here."
Oh? Do what?" He asked, turning his face a bit to kiss her hand. He loved the way her skin was rough and hardened, yet still somehow soft as velvet, a combination of a woman and a warrior to boot. She gave him a knowing smile, one that changed into widened eyes as he bent over and kissed her on the lips, gently, passionately but knowing not to press it. Even if it was tempting, since doing it in a hospital could add a little spice to it and… gods, what was wrong with him today? It was probably the giddiness at having her alive and safe that did the trick.
Ashley gave him a mild, playful shove in the chest to make him stop, even if her tongue was the one to go along the outside of his lips, not the other way around as he broke off.
"Thát. Don't do thát here." She said, not sounding a lot like she meant it. Her demeanor then changed a bit; "Besides, we've gotta get back to the Normandy. I can rest up while we chase Saren down again."
Thomas frowned at that one. Hadn't he told her? Oh fuck, he hadn't. This was going to be awkward. He had been told by Anna not long after the session had ended with the Council, a session he had missed because he wanted to check up on Ashley. It was likely he had simply forgotten about it all when he saw her free of the breather.
"That… might be a problem. The Council voted us down yesterday, so… we're… not the ones catching Saren anymore. The Turians kind of are…" He muttered, not fully being able to hide how annoyed he was with the decision. Anna had been livid when they spoke, her face bathed in sweat and the color of a tomato. Half of her words were shouted, the other growled or sneered at him.
"What?!" Ashely exclaimed, bolting right up in a seated position. Her heart-meter spiked, which apparently called in the doctor, who was promptly and roughly waved off by Hillary. The blond woman though, remained in the room this time, a worried frown on her face.
"Calm down Chief. Christ, you can't stress yourself out like that, not yet." She said, positioning herself on the opposite side of the bed.
"Good to see you too, Hill. Why are you wearing my armor?" Ashley asked, gesturing at Hillary's phase-II suit of armor.
"Wanted to stay in the spirit…" Hillary tapped the chest piece of her armor; "But yeah, the Council didn't think we did a good enough job of getting our asses killed for their sakes, so they threw us off the job and gave it to the Turians. And holy crap, Thomas your aunt was beyond pissed at the meeting. I think some of the other officer pissed themselves at one point."
"Really? She seemed so calm when we talked afterwards." He said, sarcasm dripping from his words. Hillary shrugged.
"Yep, I'd say she was the definition of "I'm going to slaughter you with a spoon" kind of pissed at that point. I mean, if she had a gun, I'm sure she would have pulled it at Tevos. Like with that time she threw a bottle at the bitch." Hillary snorted, apparently finding thát particular story rather entertaining.
"Funny, I keep hearing about that, yet I can't seem to find a video of it." Ashley said. Hillary looked at the Chief;
"I think they keep removing it whenever someone puts up a video with it. Freedom of posting, my ass. They censure whatever they don't like, is what they do." The private scoffed, then caught on to Thomas's surprised expression; "What?"
"Just how much time have you been spending with her? Seriously, you sound a lot like her, the complete lack of respect for the Council included." And it was really annoying him, as he had gotten himself partially blown up a second time just to make sure the Council knew about Saren and the Reapers. They couldn't just start writing it off as geth again, could they?
"She is an infectious person, I'll give 'er that. I always thought generals and admirals were dull and boring as shit, no offence to your granddad Chief, but Anna Fisher really is a lot of fun to talk to, and a storm of wrath when the Council pissed 'er off." Thomas wasn't sure if he was supposed to be glad or worried that a member of the crew took a complete liking to his sister, but Hillary at least wasn't mentally diagnosed.
"So… what the hell do we do now if the Council just dumped us? What did Udina or Anderson say?" Ashley asked, looking between Thomas and Hillary, as if the former would have a clue.
"No idea, we were dragged along with the admiral. Though Anderson, the captain, he was shaken. I don't know which part did him in the most, but the Council broke him. Crap, the guy was shaking and pale when we got him sat down in a bar."
"You took him to a bar?" Thomas exclaimed. Anderson had never seemed the type to go to bars, not even on his good days. Granted, Thomas had known the man for, what, two full days? So he wasn't the best judge. Jane would probably know though; "You know what? I don't even want to know. Still, do we have a plan or something?"
"Shepard said we were leaving this station as soon as we can. With how the Council outright demanded both Petrovsky and your aunt to stay and defend their sorry asses, I don't think our commander wants to spend more time here than we have to. Your other officer by the way, Jane Shepard? John wants to speed 'er surgery along so we can let her rest out on the Normandy too. He's really pulling all stops to get us away from here." Hillary said, pulling a strand of hair that had gotten in front of her eyes, back behind her ear.
"Fuck me…" Thomas muttered; "Are we going to be locked up, you think?"
"Well, your aunt left the station right after she spoke with you, I think… meaning our best bet is to make sure either the ambassador, Admiral Petrovsky or Captain Anderson keeps tabs on us. I wouldn't put it past the Council to try locking down our ship. And I haven't even been on board yet."
"Things are just going our way, aren't they?" Ashley muttered. Thomas resisted a comment on that, instead turning to Hillary.
"Listen, can you keep an eye on Ash for me? I'm going to see just how much Jane was fucked over. If possible, we're getting her a wheel-chair, then we get one for Ashley and jail-break the both of them, rush for the Normandy and get the fuck out of dodge before the Council stabs us in the back." Thomas said. He really didn't want to remain on the Citadel if the Council was out for blood or scapegoats. Odd, how hostile the once warm and pristine station now seemed.
"Better work on getting me a wheelchair then, Private. Make sure it's got an engine, I wanna be able to roll and shoot if it comes to it." Ashley said, having clearly heard it all. Despite cursing at his forgetfulness, Thomas smiled at her wit. There was a reason he loved that woman, and it wasn't just for her looks. Hillary snapped to attention;
"Yes ma'am" Thomas shot her a look.
"I'm technically your superior, aren't you going to salute me too?" He asked, earning a shit-eating grin from both women, though it was Hillary who answered;
"In your dreams, Rookie." Thomas winced at that.
"Talos, I thought I had escaped that one…" He muttered and left the room. The moment he had left the hospital, he pulled out the Omnitool and dialed up John.
"Shepard here."
"John, it's me. Listen, what the flying fuck is going on with the Council?" Thomas asked as he moved into the elevator, ignoring the looks he got from the receptionists, saying something about the thing being for 'personnel only'. He briefly looked over the controls until he found one labelled 'Huerta Memorial, second story', and palmed the interface.
"It's bad. They relieved us of duty, gave it all to the Turians and demanded that we all stay and guard their sorry asses. Anna left the station already, and Petrovsky has his fleet ready to defy repairs and pull all plugs if they try forcing him to stay. I'm guessing you're at the hospital, how's Williams?"
"Fine, though I don't think she can move the leg just yet. I'm going to find Jane and see if she's in any state to travel. If push comes to shove, I'll break her out in a wheelchair."
"Keelah, I hope it won't. Did you even see her after Virmire?" Thomas had to admit, no he had not seen her after Virmire. He imagined lacerations, gunshots and burns would be what awaited him.
"No, I didn't." He muttered as the lift came to a halt. He stepped out, ignoring similar looks as he exited what was, for all intents and purposes, a freight elevator. Right, that might be why they all stared at him like that.
"S'kak… I'll tell you, it was not good." John muttered over the line as Thomas approached the receptionist.
"Can I help you?" She asked.
"Yeah, hi… I'm looking for a Jane Shepard? About this tall, blood-red hair, green eyes and if conscious, probably swears a lot?" He tried. The receptionist gave him an odd look, then turned to her files for a moment.
"Right… Jane Shepard, Alliance military… she's in room D-6, to the left. But, she isn't ready for visitors yet. The psychiatrists are still helping her accept the prostheses."
"Yeah, that was what I was going to tell you…" John said in Thomas's ear-piece; "Jane had her leg almost severed by a piece of metal, then her arms were… I'm not sure, but… when we found her, I thought she was dead."
"Fuck… Arkay, what the fuck happened?" Thomas muttered, not really wanting an answer as that would make it all real. He didn't want this to be real, not if Jane had been horribly maimed. He wanted Ashley to be real, of course, but not the part with Jane. Ignoring the questions, then calls from the woman, Thomas forced his way through the crowds of patients until he arrived at a room labelled 'D-6'.
Actually he didn't have to look, as Jane's voice was perfectly well carried by her shouting and cursing. Yep, if conscious then cursing. There were times where he was thankful that Jane had streaks of Renegade in her. As he moved for the panel, the door hissed open and a man in a doctor-outfit hurried out, the sound of a datapad hitting the wall following. Thomas looked after the man, then shook his head and opened the door, only to catch a water-filled plastic cup in the chin.
"Fuck off you-! Oh, Thomas. Sorry about the… water thing." She said, then fell down on her bed, the covers and surrounding equipment in disarray, most having obviously been considered for use as throwing weapon before being discarded due to weight. Thomas was glad she hadn't thrown the laptop at him, the computer currently resting in pieces on the floor.
"I've had… warmer welcomes." He shrugged, then nodded at the equipment lying around; "Having trouble being in bed?"
"I'm a fucking cyborg." She sneered, looking down herself. Thomas followed her gaze and finally started understanding what John had meant. Jane was clad in just her underwear, a dark bra and panties, though large enough that they warned off any unbecoming ideas. It was clear she had just come out of surgery, with the skin still red around the affected areas Really she should have been sleeping at the moment, but it was evident why she wasn't.
Her left leg, along with her entire right arm and left hand, had been replaced with prosthetics. The new leg started all the way at the upper half of her thigh, and the replacement was done in what appeared to be a more military-grade model, the skin was darker and the muscle evidently thicker, to accommodate for the augmentations already in the right leg. The skin on her new left hand had bruises, and the wall next to her bore evidence of repeated impacts from a hard object, most likely Jane having punched it. Her right arm started out at the shoulder, with gauze still covering where the bionic limb connected with the living tissue.
"Fires of Oblivion… what happened to you?"
"Same as with Ashley, just… more. Saren almost cut my leg off with a piece of metal, then when he collapsed the room, I was trapped beneath metal beams. It was… it was horrifying. I could feel my bones, my body, me, being crushed beneath all that weight, and I couldn't even scream before I blacked out. When I came to… I was here, some weirdo trying to attach that…" Jane growled and pointed at her right arm, the fingers on it curling up into a fist. It didn't have nails, at least it didn't look like it had; "To my shoulder. I punched him, sent him through the door. Then they gave me a shot of something and… I kinda just woke up a few minutes ago, when one of them started saying how being made a cyborg is a good thing and that I should be happy that I got the chance."
"Is it really thát bad?" Thomas asked, slumping down next to her, having picked a chair up from the floor.
"Thomas, you have one arm and an eye… I am just head and body now, my leg is mechanic, my arm is mechanic, both my hands are mechanic… what am I?" Jane's rough and angered voice had vanished, replaced by the voice of a frightened girl. The sheer pain and fear in her voice made Thomas cringe.
"You are still our captain. You are a hardass, badass biotic, and you shouldn't let this stop you. You are going to go up against Saren again, and when you do, you are going to rip off his arms and legs." Thomas said, curling a fist for effect. Jane gave him a flat look, then fell back down on her back, bionic left hand raised before her eyes.
"This is what I am now… once, all I was and could, I could take credit for that…Now? Now I'm half machine. I'm not fully human anymore, and…and…" She hesitated, like finishing the sentence would make all of it real.
"And you are still Jane Shepard, just with a few upgrades now. Listen Jane, if being fully human means being normal, then I haven't spent a second in this world being fully human. I became Roku's host the second I woke up, and I'm dragging around a bionic arm and eye now. Do you see me complain?"
"Yeah, I do a lot, actually." Jane said, the shadow of a smirk creeping into her expression. Thomas sputtered before remembering that he wanted to cheer Jane up, so he ought to just go with it.
"Right, but I'm not complaining because of my augmentations. I usually complain because the universe is FUBAR, and it's often my fault. Whenever that happens, you tend to be the one to slap me down again. You've saved my life at least once, I owe it to you to tell you the truth."
"That I am still Jane Shepard… I know, but… this just feels… so wrong." She muttered, clenching her covers with the right hand, strong synthetic fingers almost ripping apart the fabric. Thomas took a leap of faith and squeezed her shoulder, knowing that her hand wouldn't feel it.
"Hey, you're the legendary Shepard. If I can handle this, so can you. Besides, you get used to it after some time." He said, then sighed as he remembered the other reason for his visit; "I don't suppose you are ready to leave the hospital yet?"
"It would be painful, humiliating and without my uniform… why, where's the fire?" Jane asked with concern in her eyes.
"Up the Council's asses apparently. They dumped us, gave the Saren-campaign to the Turians. Us? They want us to remain here and guard their asses. Anna wants the lot of us away from this place a.s.a.p., and we need you and Ashley to do that."
"Fucking hell… somehow I'm not surprised. They were always a pain in the ass back in my time too. Still, this is a whole new level of dumbass. Can you get me a wheelchair?" She asked. Thomas nodded, having spotted a set before he entered the room; "Good, because you're going to break me out of here then. Today."
…
Daratar, Faia system
11:42
Cerberus Trooper Shaniqua Hale groaned as consciousness returned, accompanied by a massive, thundering headache. She couldn't remember what had happened, only that her vision had suddenly been cut off without warning as she had patrolled the perimeter around 'Persephone', the Cerberus frigate they had arrived in, on the planet of Daratar. Her head throbbing, she raised a hand to massage her temple, only to find that both her hands, arms and legs had been restricted with uncomfortable shackles. Her wrists were secured with manacles and her ankles with rough plastic-strings. She could see nothing, as her vision was cut off by what felt like a rough spun sack over her head. This was when panic started settling in, yet she made no moves, not wanting whoever was behind this to sense her fear. Maybe this was all just a test, a drill of her abilities before she became a full member of Mjolnir-six.
"Ah, so you are awake." A male voice spoke, sounding placid and completely at peace. It was not Taylor, Kraken or anyone else from the team.
"Who is that? Where am I?" She demanded.
"Daratar, of course." The voice said, now accompanied by the sound of metal hissing against metal, like a blade being sharpened; "As for who this is? Don't you just love secrets?"
"Whoever the fuck this is, let me go at once!" She sneered, fighting her restraints. They cut into her skin, as she had been stripped of armor at some point, meaning her assailant had probably groped her too. She bet this was some mercenary scum, wanting some fun with an augmented woman, since the Blue Suns women were bound to be frigid old ladies or thin girls, none of them any good in bed.
"Oh? But wouldn't that undo all the effort it took to bring you here? Oh by the way, you can scream all you like, no one can hear you… unless you have a voice rivaling that of a fighter-jet." The voice said again, sounding mildly amused.
"I get it, you want to rape me. Fine, go ahead and try. See if you still have your dick afterwards." She sneered. If there was one thing she was good at, it was deterring and punishing rapists. Having started out in a catholic home, she had been brought up as choirgirl. The men of God had been… less than pious, and had turned her over to the police with false charges when she crushed one of the priests testicles with her knees.
"Rape you? Oh my, that is an enticing idea, alright. I'm honestly really tempted… still, rape can come afterwards, if you really want me to try. Personally I'd prefer to not catch anything." The rough voice chuckled, a harsh, gritty sound as it was filtered through a helmet.
"Take this thing off of me, unless you're scared to look me in the eyes." She growled. Always a good way to force the captor on the defensive. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was all the warning she got before she was slammed in the side with said piece of furniture. Shaniqua was sent sprawling across the floor, kept tied to her own chair while pain and agony screamed through her body, and she tasted blood. The next thing she knew was that her chair was lifted back up again, and the sack was removed from her head.
A Blue Suns trooper placed his chair back down on the floor. His helmet was on, as she had known it would be, and the pair of cold, icy blue optics glared at her.
"There, the sack is off. Better?" He asked with a grin evident in his voice. Shaniqua looked around the room, desperate for a weapon, a way out or someone she could appeal to or at least distract.
The room wasn't much bigger than a standard shack, bearing signs of having been used for containment of living creatures, judging from the scraped walls and stains of blood on the floor. It was likely a prison-cell, or a room for interrogation.
"Lieutenant Taylor will have your head when he finds out." She spat at him, the liquid splatting before his armored boots. The Suns waggled a finger before closing it into a fist that was driven into her stomach, causing her to lose all air and agony to wash over her. She wasn't wearing anything but her small clothes, and the fist had been a gauntlet of ceramics and metal.
"See, I don't think he will. That would require that he knew where you are, or who took you." The trooper said, Shaniqua taking the moment to breathe in again. There was a dark laugh in the man's voice as he regarded her.
"You're as good as-" She started.
"Dead? Yeah, I've been there once already." He laughed, then leaned against the wall and regarded her for just a moment before speaking again; "Do you know why you are here?"
"Because you mercs are psychopaths and killers. That's why your pussy-Alliance and Hierarchies didn't want-" She was interrupted by a new hit, this one from the sharp edge of the trooper's gauntlet as it was hammered into her knee. Waves of pain, like electricity, sharp and overwhelming came over her, bringing a feeling of nausea. As she struggled to keep her innards under control, the trooper grabbed her by the neck and lifted her and the chair towards him, above the floor.
"Don't you ever badmouth the Alliance ever again. I will do that to you each time you do." His demeanor was changed, suddenly the one of a man of wrath and anger. Shaniqua wasn't sure which one she felt more concern over. The trooper dropped her back down again, leaning back; "Besides, that's not why you are here, Ymir. Guess again."
That caused Shaniqua to press her eyes shut, raking her brain for a reason a trooper would run the risk of abducting and torturing a member of Cerberus. She slowly came to a thought, remembering having seen both Turians and humans standing in the crowd of Suns.
"Because you are protecting your little alien whore, the Quarian Tara'Velan." She spat, this time hitting his boots. The trooper glanced down at it, then rubbed it off on the wall before slowly walking over to her chair, proceeding around it before stopping right behind her. Not being able to see him suddenly scared Shaniqua more than anything else.
"Now, that's not a nice thing to call someone." He said with a pleasant voice. She then felt her hair being pulled up by the root, the agony searing straight through to her brain as her skin was lit on fire. The pull was powerful enough that she was lifted, screaming, into the air once more; "Especially not Tara."
She was then yanked to the side, soaring through the air as she cried out in pain, the pain overpowering everything else. It felt like her skin had been ripped off at the top of her head, and the warm trickles of blood running down her forehead and temples gave ground for that fear. Her world pulsated in and out of existence, only to finally leave her unconscious.
When she came to, she was still bound to the chair, now sitting upright once more. Her head was throbbing with agony and her mouth tasted blood.
"Ah good, we can continue." The trooper said, snapping her attention back towards him. He was cold, no doubt about that; "So, we concluded that you are here because you didn't like Tara. Do you remember what you did to her?"
"I gave her a fraction of what she deserves!" Shaniqua spat out, forcing her fear to the back of her mind while getting the anger in the front. She had to. If this man found out she was scared, he would use it; "Tara'Velan is a scourge on Cerberus. She's a filthy murderous whore who-"
The trooper stopped her with the simplest method possible. Her mouth was forced shut in an iron-like grip, bone-hard fingers clamping down on her cheeks. The trooper lowered himself towards her, the death-like icy optics looking straight into her eyes, accompanied by the sound of calm breathing;
"You know, you really should learn to speak nicer." He said, taking one hand away from her mouth to her left hand instead. Shaniqua struggled back as he forcefully pried her thumb from her closed fist; "Now, apologize nicely."
She spat on his helmet. The Sun didn't speak, instead slowly looking from her face to her hand, and the finger he had a hold on. Then, with a quick movement, he snapped the thumb back and broke it.
The wave of pain and heat coursing through her as the finger was rendered useless, was too intense for Shaniqua to even scream. In the first seconds, she could only gasp in pain, heaving for air as it felt thick and impossible to breathe. Then, she could scream, and cry, as air finally returned to her.
So she screamed, and she cried. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore, then simply gasped and coughed in pain and frustration until that too was impossible. Allthewhile the trooper simply leaned against the wall and looked at her, those cold, blue optics staring her down.
"Now, can you say sorry?"
"FUCK YOU!" She cried, not giving the bastard an inch of ground. He could hurt or kill her, but she was never going to give in and apologize for exacting justice on the murderous Quarian bitch.
"I guess not… oh well, next finger then."
...
Citadel, Serpent Nebula
Docking area, Presidium
14:21
"This is fucking humiliating…"
"Well you said a wheelchair, so I got you a wheelchair."
"Not a pink one, you dumbass!" Jane retorted, scowling at the pink metal the wheelchair was made from. It even had little hearts and flowers painted on it, as if the universe wanted a new round of "fuck with Jane Shepard".
"It was the only one there was, and you said to get you one pronto." Thomas scowled back as he pushed her over the threshold of the elevator, emerging in the docking area. Wheels or not, Jane was heavy to shove around. The truth was he had picked the pink one as payback for the water-cup.
He could see the rest of the crew, whomever wasn't already onboard the Normandy, speaking in hushed voices. None of them were in uniform, a thing he had been informed on by John over the comms. If they were seen standing around, it would be harder to figure out that they were jumping ship, and the Council wouldn't know until the Normandy soared off, along with whatever intact ships the 6th could send with them.
Ashley was sitting in a wheelchair of her own, this one a blessed, dull grey metal. Thomas saw Jane send a glare at the other chair, once more because of her own flower-girl chair. Ashley just looked at Thomas who winked at her, letting her know with that simple gesture what was going on. The Chief's face split in a grin, and she whispered something to Hillary who, as the only one besides Wrex in armor, was pushing Ashley's wheelchair.
"What are they grinning about?" Jane growled.
"Oh, nothing, nothing." Ashley said, not able to hide the small smirk on her face. At Jane's tone though, Hillary hid her own, being in the presence of a superior officer. Thomas chuckled softly at that, remembering that Hillary, despite lower rank and being new on the Normandy, was a far more professional soldier than he was. She had already done service for six months when he arrived on Eden Prime. It was easy to forget, what with how she wisecracked more often than Joker himself, and managed without too many sexual innuendoes.
"Jane, good to see Thomas got you out of there." John said, brushing through the crowd; "How are you feeling?"
"Would 'Like shit shat on shit' be unofficer-ish?" Jane remarked, glowering at either everyone else or her new prosthetics. She had covered them the best she could with her uniform, the socks pulled all the way up to hide the new leg, and the other sock simply the same to not look weird.
"To a human officer, yeah probably. Lucky for you, I'm not human. Well, technically I'm Alliance now, since our species joined, but not human. Good thing, 'cause you have five weird fingers." He said, then looked at his own; "I could never get used to that."
It was clear to Thomas that John was doing his best to cheer Jane up, knowing better than anyone what intrusive surgery felt like. It didn't seem to work though, as Jane merely scoffed;
"Whatever. Let's just get onboard… I'll have to steal Joker's crutches or something." She muttered the last part, seeing as said Pilot was in the crowd too, using his crutches to get around. Thomas never understood why the pilot didn't just get an exoskeleton. If they had started making them in the 2011's, they had to be a lot better now.
"I heard that, and what makes you think I'd give you my crutches?" The pilot called back as they went through the tube. Jane smirked, the first sign of her mood improving that Thomas had seen since he had found her in the hospital.
"I'm stronger than you." She laughed, actually laughed. Granted, it was a mocking laugh, but a laugh still. Thomas rolled her up next to Ashley and Hillary, but as if to prove her statement, Jane planted a foot in the floor, stopped the chair and jumped to her feet… foot. She was only standing on one of them, so it had to be considered 'foot'.
"Wait, you could walk the entire time?" Thomas asked, staring between her and the now-empty wheelchair. Had he pushed a grown woman around for almost half an hour, only because she was either too lazy or stubborn to walk on her own foot. Gods that really sounded wrong, but she didn't really consider it her own foot when it was made of polymers and metal, so…yeah, he really didn't know what to call it.
"…No?" The captain tried, although her demeanor had definitely changed, and for the better. She was back to the more abrasive, rushing, insensitive and actually quite charming woman he knew and respected. Fuck Torfan, and whatever had happened there. It hadn't happened here, so there was no reason to start calling bloody murder.
"Thalosi Akame… I swear, one day, you'll be the death of me…" Thomas muttered, sending the wheelchair rolling at top-marks back down the tube, where it crashed against the wall on the opposite side.
"Considering Roku could just bring you back, I wouldn't worry too much." Jane shrugged as she started limping after Joker, an obvious, and effective, attempt to make the pilot think the biotic death-dealer was coming for his crutch. Thomas was left standing for the entire second it took him to realize he hadn't told Jane that Roku was indeed no longer inside him, but instead inside a geth platform, strolling around the ship…
…The ship John was about to walk aboard, to see a geth greeting him.
Oh shit…
"John! John, please can you just please stop and not go on board?!" He shouted, walking as fast as he could towards the Quarian. John had stopped, turned around and was now looking at Thomas as if he had an extra pair of arms. Still, better than John flinging Roku out an airlock at first sight.
"What?"
"Crap-cake, I completely forgot to tell you what happened to Roku!" John stared even more at him now, as if trying to see if the aspect, spirit or god or whatever Roku really was, was inside his eyes or head. Really an awkward moment, to tell the truth.
"Something happened?" Garrus asked from where he was typing in the access-codes. The Citadel Traffic Control would likely get a ping the moment he entered the full code, so it was all about timing.
"Fuck if I know how, but he's in a geth platform now. He can explain it, but just don't start shouting when you see a geth walking around." Thomas exclaimed, then breathed. John looked at him like had Thomas gone crazy, but honestly Thomas just wanted to avoid a shoot-out.
"Right, I knew I forgot something… sorry commander, forgot to tell you." Joker coughed, leaning on his crutch while making sure Wrex was between him and Jane, who was still eying his walk-assist. The Quarian snapped around again, this time to Joker;
"Just… what? How long has this been going on?"
"About since Virmire. Roku was delivered in a crate in the Medbay, cursing and just generally being pissed that he had a physical body he can't escape."
"I haven't seen any geth at all."
"I think he's been avoiding you. No offence John, but the last time you were faced with a geth, you kinda sliced it open. Roku can't risk that, so he's been hiding in the hangar." Thomas muttered, gesturing for Garrus to open the door. Hillary was getting closer with Ashley, and he didn't want her to overhear something out of context.
Disturbing as it was, it might be more practical to just give the private the whole story, at least the parts saying "multiverse", not "videogame". He wasn't sure he even believed the game-part anymore, but it still had points to it. He wasn't sure which, but it had.
"Sure, great. I mean, now that Nihlus is remaining on the Citadel, and the captain has to use a crutch-"
"Nihlus isn't coming?" Jane cut him off. John sighed and huffed in annoyance with her before continuing;
"The captain has to use a crutch, why not have our divine heavy-hitter merge with a geth. That won't end bad at all." John growled in frustration before turning back to Jane; "And yeah, Nihlus is staying here. The Council cut all support for our mission, so Nihlus was pulled from the ship. Also… this means I am going to step down." He said as the doors hissed open. The utter silence that followed his statement only lasted for about a second before the exclamations were voiced.
"What?!"Tequila shouted, having been the fastest to do so.
"I was only honorary commanding officer. I don't even have the training it takes to be one. For as long as we had the mission, I had the role as leader. Then we came across you, Jane, and shit just went haywire."
"But- but you can't step down!" Garrus said, aghast of the idea from the sound of his voice.
"I already have." He said, and pointed at his shoulders. More accurately, he pointed at where his official stripes had been before, now only marks from where they had been stitched on; "Jane is in command now. At most I am her advisor, if she so chooses. I've already talked it over with Anderson, so there's no going back."
"But… but…" Thomas stammered, having not expected anything like this at all. John being shocked at the geth on his ship would be overly joyous compared to this. John just turned to Jane as they rounded the CIC;
"The ship is yours now Jane, do try not to blow us all up." He said with a smile in his voice before he headed down the stairs. The rest of the crew, plus everyone at their stations, were shocked into silence.
After several minutes of mouths being opened and closed, nobody speaking, Hillary made the first comment;
"So… what just happened?"
"John stepped down… I'm… not sure what to do, really." Jane muttered, looking at the door where her Quarian colleague, and friend, had gone through.
"I'm guessing that is a bad thing?" Hillary said, not really knowing John at all. She had only ever met him, what once before?, and that had been at the Council meeting.
"Very. At least I think so. John never much took command on the ship, only on the ground. I just… there was a safety, having him to fall back on." Jane admitted, pulling out a long, troubled breath; "He has a good head on his shoulders."
"So… what does that make him? Sergeant? Private?... Freelancer?" Hillary asked again. Jane mulled it over for a moment, a frown on her face;
"Honestly I don't know… freelancer I guess?" She said, then turned for the cockpit; "Joker, get us out of here. This station sucks and I don't care for staying."
"Roger that. Oh look, the Council is waving us off… not. Because, you know, they are assholes." Joker called back. With a vibration from the magnetic clamps being released, the Normandy left the docks and floated through the flocks of ships, warships and freighters. As it reached the end of the crowds, the engines powered up and sent the ship powering off into the void.
…
Arcturus Station, Arcturus Stream
Office of Admiral Anna Fisher
18:21
"Admiral, you have an incoming call." Price said, standing as he always was, at a respectful 'at ease' in his hologram. He seemed to prefer the big projector to the small one on Anna's desk, and she really wasn't bothered by it. It was probably because it allowed him to be the size of a human being, not a smurf.
Anna groaned, lifting her head from the desk. She offered the AI a short glance, then smacked her forehead into the surface again. Cold, blissful surface. The heavy drinking needed a cold surface, and the desk made do just fine. God, she hated the Council. And Whiskey. But mostly the Council.
Ignorant assholes, dismissing the crew she had kept funded and supplied for almost half a year, discarding the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and all because they had bombed Virmire a little. Fucking mudball should have been erased from the galaxy, courtesy of a big doom-beam or something. Maybe she could build something like that, a beam that could destroy a planet.
Thát would show the Council.
"Admiral, you have a call, and I'm not really the best at impersonation." Price said again, his thick brows furrowed in a frown as he looked at her.
Admiral Anna Cologne Fisher, pride of the Alliance, Scourge of slavers and bad guys. She was drunk, and not even happily so. Being happily drunk would be a good thing, but all the booze had done was making her even more pissed, and she had already once tried writing out a declaration of war on Tevos, only stopped by Price erasing the letters.
Cold, cold and nice desk. Her spot was warming up though, so she rolled her head a little, shifting to a better position. Ahhh… nice, cold desk…
"Anna, I'll start the Russian national anthem if you don't pull it together. Wouldn't want Zaeed to see you like this, would we?" The AI tried. Anna just waved him off. Even drunk, she knew Zaeed was back on Elysium, helping with the rebuilding.
"Goway… tired…"
"You have an incoming call from the Turian Hierarchy ship 'Centurion'. Caller is one Decarissa Feltan… someone you know?"
"Right… her. What now? Okay, puuuut… put her through." Anna yawned, rolling her neck as she un-stuck her forehead from the desk. Price nodded and his visage vanished from the projector, leaving Anna just enough time to get the hair from her eyes. The blue flickered in the hologram, and the projection changed to that of a Turian woman in full armor, helmet beneath her arm.
"Anna? Shit, you look like… well, shit, I guess."
"And you look like you just had the fuck of a decade... What is it, can't you see I'm drunk… right…you can't, because… I dunno, what is it?" She hated making calls while drunk. People always though she was constantly either drunk or abrasive and violent.
"I've only just been told. I'm on the mission after Saren, and I'm going to make the bastard pay." Thát, that got Anna's eyes wide open.
"Come again?"
"The Council just told me, I'm going to be on a mission to track down Saren. I don't know why though. From what I remember, the crew of the Normandy was more than capable." The Turian woman scratched her mandible; "Still, I'm not going to question orders, not in this. I'm going to be having a Council Spectre with me, so I guess that means the Council doesn't trust me completely…"
"That's… great. Congratz and all that shit. Was there anything you wanted, or just calling to brag. I'm having a fucking headache, preparing for impending Doctor Doom, and half my fleets are scattered, trying to fend of either Batarians, Reapers or geth." Anna groaned, resting her forehead in her palm. She couldn't bring herself to be angry at Decarissa. Pissed, maybe, but not angry.
"That's why I'm calling. I know you have an AI, so I'm going to give you the transmission-codes for when we do AA-reports. It'll be changed, of course, but can you use it to gain a foothold?" The honest and soft tone to her voice made Anna forget everything about being pissed at her friend. Price's visage appeared next to the Turian, causing her to flinch just a bit.
"I think I can handle that. I guess we're keeping it to spectator only?" He said, seemingly examining Decarissa.
"I… yes, I would be thankful if you did no more than that. So… you're the super-AI, huh?" Decarissa said, with wonder and curiosity in her voice. Price nodded, a little too enthusiastically in Anna's opinion, at the word 'super-AI'. Cheeky bastard.
"Smart Artificial Intelligence, Captain John Price of the 141, Systems Alliance. At your service."
"Handsome, and polite too… why aren't we making these things again?" The turian said, a finger tapping at her lower jaw as she looked at Price; "Right, the geth. Anyway… you have the codes yet?"
"Got 'em. I'm in your systems already." Price said. Both Anna and Decarissa were taken aback.
"That was fast." The Admiral said. Price just shrugged.
"I'll say. Okay, we are running a reboot of passwords and such in a few hours, so make sure you get a footh… old… Ann- Anna? My c-comms… slopp… interfe-…" Decarissa's image began to stutter.
"Price, clear that up?" Anna said. The aI turned to her, a frown on his face.
"It's not on our end. Captain, something's messing up your systems… where are you?"
"Cen- ury… we've… tttt… wait… OH SHIT!" The turian yelled. Then she vanished from view, and the projection left only Price standing, looking disturbed.
"So… what was that?" Anna asked, trying to keep worry from her voice. The AI made a sweeping motion, and the projector on the desk brought up large images. All had the same thing in common.
A looming, squid-like silhouette appeared at the edge of visible space.
…
Hawking Eta
SSV Aachen, CIC
12:15 (Ship time)
"Herr Kommandant, we have an incoming SOS." Lieutenant Susanna Helger reported, looking up from her station. Commander Oskar Feldberg of the 2nd patrol flotilla looked up from his datapad, weary old eyes connecting with his second in command, his comms-officer and colleague. While Susanna was from Austria, he was from the capital of Germany himself. Berlin was one of the richest cities in one of the richest countries in the entire Systems Alliance, and as a result they contributed heavily to the fleets of Humanity.
"Put it through" He said, then muttered; "About time something happened out here…"
"Jawohl." She snapped to a salute, activating the communications. A few moments went by with unintelligible stutters and scratchy sounds before what could be identified as a voice speaking came through.
"This is the T-.. Centurion! We-.. attack! Any frie- out there, please-.. ond-.. system!" A panicked woman's voice came in, the double-flanged voice revealing her as a Turian. Oskar frowned and turned to the Susanna;
"Can you clear that up?"
"Just a moment…" She nodded, typing away at controls the commander had little hope of ever understanding the way she did. After a few seconds, the SOS came back, now much clearer.
"This is the TSF Centurion! We are under attack from unknown forces! Any friendly vessels out there, please respond! We're in the Hawking Eta, Thorne System! Any friend-"
"Centurion, this is SSV Aachen, Alliance 2nd patrol fleet. We hear your SOS, and are en route. What is the nature of your situation?" Oskar cut the turian off with a calm, clear and commanding voice.
"Thank the Spirits, I thought we were alone! We're under attack from Dreadnought-class unknown enemy, similar in appearance to the Valhalla ships! I've lost four frigates already, we can't-!" The voice was cut off, leaving the bridge in silence. Oskar Feldberg snapped into action;
"All ships! Divert immediate new course for the Thorne Relay. I want Frigates in front, Cruisers behind. The moment we are through, the Berlin will deploy scanners to find the Centurion and any additional friendlies. Move it, full speed ahead, loss loss loss!" What some would have described as 'Chaos' broke out all over the bridge, as crewmen, ensigns and technicians went to work, bringing the command ship of the flotilla about, and with it, the five cruisers and twenty frigates assigned to Feldberg's command.
Not that he wasn't nervous, of course. Oskar Feldberg had seen the recordings, read the files and reports of both the Valhalla and the Virmire battle. He knew full well, that if this enemy was truly the same as Anna Fisher had faced, or maybe even Saren's flagship, then there wasn't much hope for winning. At best, he could make sure the besieged Turians made it out alive. It was his duty, no matter whom, to see them to safety.
"ETA to the Relay, ten minutes, Kommandant." A tech called out. Oskar nodded, looking over the displays of his small flotilla, all twenty-six ships in total. They were moving in perfect formation, positions as ordered to prepare for immediate contact. Now, there was nothing to do but wait. Might as well instill some morale in the men, knowing that they were likely just as anxious as he was. The commander opened a channel to his flotilla;
"Achtung. I know you all have heard of Valhalla and Virmire, and what the fleets faced there. I will not lie to you: there is a real probability we are heading to face the same thing, and yes, we are severely outgunned if that is the case." He said, waiting a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing;
"But take heart. Remember what we are fighting for, who we are. We are the Systems Alliance. We are Humans. But more than that, deeper than that, we are soldiers of the Fatherland. When the Russians steamrolled us in World War Three, did we surrender? No! We fought back and we pressed them back out. When aliens invaded Shanxi, and Dresher called for support, did we shy back? No! And now, when we are tasked with help our galactic allies, do we shy back? No! We will never shy back, and we will never retreat. Because who are we?"
"The Panzer Elite!" Came back the response, as his bridge made their agreements known. Oskar nodded, sitting back down in his command-chair. The Relay was coming up, a bright blue orb in the distance of the void.
Codex Entry: Systems Alliance Fleet Structure - Nationalities.
The navies of the Human Systems Alliance are divided into fleets, divisions, flotillas and battle groups, in order of size of force.
While battle groups, flotillas and divisions are often made up of ships from different nations, serving in mixed groups, Fleets are usually from one or two countries only. This is for the purpose of added comradeship, as well as wanting the crews of the ships to feel a bond and a sense of belonging in a mass of ships easily ranging from a couple of dozen ships, to the fleets like the tenth and fifth, where the Admirals command almost two hundred ships each.
6th Raiders - Made up of nations from Eastern Europe and the old Soviet states: Poland, Russia, Ukraine, the Czech Republic and Hungary.
10th Fleet - Made up of American forces. Despite Anna Fisher having a Scandinavian parentage, her official records state her as American of nationality.
5th Fleet - Made up of American forces. Admiral Stephen Hackett presides over the single largest amount of fleets under one man, total amount of armed forces surpassing a hundred thousand fighting men and woman, in more than five hundred ships.
2nd Fleet - Made up of German forces. A small patrol fleet under the command of Commander Oskar Feldberg, this fleet was divided into two when ten cruisers and ten frigates were diverted for use as escorts for the Quarian envoys to Rannoch.
So if one does not hate the Council by now, you are officially on the Alliance's watchlist over potential terrorists and fanatics. Just saying.
Also, I am not going to apologize for the torture scene. Anyone mistreats a Quarian, I'm writing them in for a torture-session with Magnus. Also, since I watched a movie called "Manufactured Alliances" yesterday: This is NOT in any way the same Shaniqua as the woman on the Cerberus Defector team. She doesn't even have the augmentations that huskified people, so... yeah.
Now, for those of you thinking "Am I supposed to know this Decarissa-woman?" Well, she was the Turian captain/lieutenant in charge of assisting the Normandy on Noveria. She didn't do much good back then, but that was when we got her story. I really wouldn't envy her her new job, considering it involves chasing down a four kilometer dreadnought that can tentacle-rape the Ascension.
As for those of you who know my style by now, you should know a space-battle is incoming, and that this time, we'll get a small song to kick it off. Try googling "Ghost Division" by Sabaton, and you will find out why this one is perfect for a fleet made up of German ships.
Now, on to the sad news... don't worry, I'm not about to discontinue the story. I am starting what is called "AT" in my high-school, which is a sort of exams, meaning I won't get a lot of writing-time.
So please, instead of wishing me good luck (which people did the last time and it didn't go all that well) do me the honors of making the most complete review you can think of, preferably of the whole story. It not only makes my day when I see those, it also helps give me some perspective on just how far this story has come.
See ya :)