Ripples in the Stream
A D&D / Shadowrun / Mass Effect crossover by Vyrexuviel
Disclaimer: The author of this story does not, in any way, derive any profit from the story. D&D, Shadowrun and Mass Effect are the property of their respective copyright holders. Jorukaia and other unfamiliar characters in this story, however, are mine.
"Do you believe her?" Chakwas lent back against the edge of one of the sickbay beds. After the harrowing last couple of hours, she felt the need of additional support.
Anderson slumped against the wall, his face weary and tired from all the collective shit that's been happening lately. "After these few days, Karin, I don't know what I believe anymore. Nihlus, Shepard, the Beacon, Saren and the Geth. It's just too much."
She nodded faintly, turned, and opened one of the medicine cabinets. She removed a square glass bottle and a pair of tumblers from behind a stack of surgical gauze pads. The doctor poured three fingers into one and handed it to the Captain. "Doctor's orders, David." She gave him an empathetic look as she poured herself a shot of the cerulean-blue liquid. "If I hadn't seen the inside of that drawer, I wouldn't even be entertaining the notions going through my head now, but... She can't really be telling the truth, can she?"
Anderson took the tumbler with a grateful look on his face. He swirled whatever it was inside a couple of times, pensive, before downing it in one gulp, grimacing slightly at the burn. "I don't know, Doc... That thing out there, it can't be the Shepard we know. It's too...different, too...it's too much." The captain paused, staring at the now empty tumbler in his hands, the filaments of alcohol slowly settling back on the bottom. "But she knew things...I don't know whether or not that makes her Shepard, back from the dead, or whatever nonsense we're supposed to believe, but she knows more than she should."
She topped up his glass again, setting the bottle where the captain could reach it, and sipped her own drink. "What do you mean, David? I mean, sure, I saw the scratches, showed them to you, but that doesn't mean... It can't mean she's come back..."
He glanced at the bottle, considering for all of five seconds the complications it could cause, before throwing all that out the window. He quickly filled his tumbler, downed it, and filled it again, setting the bottle near the doctor this time. "I don't like this, Karin. I'm inclined to believe that...creature knew Shepard, or somehow got in contact with her. Either that, or both Shepard and I slacked on our security multiple times, and that's not something I'm willing to accept." He paused, thinking for a few moments and enjoying the buzz in his mind, before he turned to the Doctor once more. "Are you sure she was dead, Chakwas?"
Karin hesitated, swirling her liquor a little and giving him a quiet look, "I'll never be 100% certain, but in my medical judgment, yes. She was dead. No detectable neural activity, heart stopped, respiration stopped. If that's not the textbook definition of 'dead' I don't know what is." She gave a soft sigh, "But without an autopsy, we'll never know if she was just... I don't know, hibernating? Undergoing some sort of metamorphosis into... Whatever it is we have down there. How'd you finally restrain her, by the by? I doubt that that cord lasted very long, those claws were sharp enough to leave scratches in steel."
Anderson waved his free hand almost dismissively, "Chain from engineering. Had them weld a couple of bars around her wrists. It was the fastest, strongest thing we could come up with." He sipped the rest of the beverage, and set the tumbler next to the bottle, unwilling to drink any more. He sighed, and rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his right hand, the left holding on to the countertop.
"This is out of my league, Doc. I have an alien creature that first claims to be Shepard back from the dead, then some sort of alien, then an outright denizen of Hell inside the most advanced ship the Alliance has, and this same creature seems to know way more about our government and military than I'm comfortable with. My superiors need to know about this, make a decision..." He snorted, shaking his head slowly, "I'm sure that's gonna go well. Tell them we have a gigantic security breach in the ship after one of the most spectacular failures of humanity in the last twenty years."
Chakwas tossed off the rest of the throat-destroying drink in one go, filled it, and took another swallow, before setting it down and patting his hand, "You did everything you could in the circumstances, David." A faint smile touched her lips, "I'd recommend some sleep. Though I suppose the liquor probably won't help with that." She glanced over as the Sickbay doors open, subtly slipping the bottle into a drawer as Ashley steps in. "Something wrong, Sergeant?"
Ashley hesitated, then took a couple mincing steps into the room. "Yeah, you could say that doc."
"Sergeant Williams," Anderson nodded.
She straightened to attention, even throwing a salute. Then winced a bit and slouches again, "Sorry sir. Had an accident down in the cargo hold."
"Oh, what sort?" Chakwas was all business.
"Well..." The marine looked rather embarrassed, glancing over to the Captain.
He gave a slight grin and a nod, "I'll show myself out. Good to talk with you, Karin."
The doc nodded gently to him, then turned back to Ms Williams, "Now, what seems to be the problem?"
She thought she had seen everything, in her long, winding life, from the darkest depths of depravity to the highest hallowed halls. She'd seen the march of nations on the warpath, and steered wide of them. She'd seen individual triumphs and failures every bit as impressive as those of entire civilizations. She thought she had seen it all. Then the Far Realm had opened, and spat her out into that strange other world. She had found, over the six decades that she had spent in that new world, for all it's glittering spires, had people just the same as the world she left, with the same lofty ideals and hidden vices. Only the technology had changed, human nature was still human nature.
Then she came to this place, torn from the ritual circle by some power from the world she left, ripped free of the confines of reality, and flung farther than she had been the first time. Out, far out, beyond the walls of existence, to view time itself as a rippling ribbon of light 'beneath' her, to hear that voice that spoke and yet did not speak, and be told what she must do. Three times she watched the timestream, and each time it was both different and the same. The last time it replayed, she fell into it, was hurled into it, loosing her grip on her weapon as she fell, being torn and compressed and rent asunder, feeling her very mind assaulted by a power she could not fathom, let alone fight.
She had dreamed then, dreamed she was someone else, somewhere else, somewhen else. Done things, both heroic and savage, those were clearer somehow. Then the last. A searing pain that ripped through her head like a rusty saw, and she had awoken inside that scorched steel box. Hunger had savaged her, and she had followed the scent of food to its source, almost mindless with her need to consume. Now, however, she had regained her control. 12 hours from her reawakening to her true nature, her true self, had seen the Normandy to the Citadel, and Anderson's marines had escorted her, still chained, into C-Sec, as the Normandy had no brig to contain her.
An Asari lazily raised her head as the sound of steps got louder. From behind her counter, the admittedly plain-looking alien felt her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the incursion, the patterns running around her forehead making her look very much like a startled, blue raccoon. Laziness momentarily forgotten, she lent forward, both her elbows resting on her counter as she tried to find the highest ranking member in the group. Failing that, she mentally shrugged.
"State your business?" she asked, her droning voice probably fooling nobody as to whether that was something she spoke a lot or not.
Anderson stepped forward, giving the tall, forbidding-looking one a glance as he stepped past her. She was certainly the impressive sort, over two meters tall, with long, elegantly-curved horns sweeping back from her temples, ebony skin, a long, sinuous tail that swayed slowly behind her, and eerie red-in-black eyes that seem to burn with an inner fire. "Temporary prisoner transfer. My ship doesn't have proper brig facilities, the Alliance is sending a ship to pick her up."
The alien almost visibly deflated, all the rather fleeting thoughts of whether this situation would be interesting or not thrown out of her head as the human spoke. 'Still', she eyed the...whatever she was up and down once, not being remotely familiar with that species, 'At least that's a story to tell the others.'
She nodded at the Captain, and pulled open a drawer. Rummaging through it for a few seconds, she retrieved something that somewhat resembled a deactivated omni-tool, albeit an older model. She fit it on, and activated it with a bit of fumbling, the familiar yellow-orange field flashing around her arm and hand.
Twitching her fingers through a long combination of commands, she finally looked up again. "State your Name, ID Code and Species, please."
Anderson glanced at the woman, who took a step forward, suddenly looming over the asari's desk. "Jorukaiazhanivahkyss. I don't have an ID code." Her lips quirked upwards slightly at some inner amusement. "I suppose you could shorten that to Jorukaia, if you wish. Put my species down as 'Darastrix'." Her voice was lower than the asari might have expected, rich and resonant, with a deep undertone that was both pleasant and subtly disturbing at the same time.
The asari automatically started to type in the glowing field, trained motions too ingrained in her mind to be overcome by the being's unusual voice. She snuck glances up at the..'Darastrix?', her mind helpfully supplied, before glancing back down again. "...Right. Spell both your full name and your species. The system doesn't recognize the words."
The large woman's lips parted ever so slightly, a strange shape to her mouth that suddenly resolved itself into concealed fangs in the asari's mind. She slowly spelled both the name and the species, using Alliance-standard English letters. She didn't seem surprised in the least that the computer was having trouble recognizing the words, she even seemed amused by it.
The officer nodded, and put everything in the system correctly. She looked back at Joru, one of her brows going up similarly to human eyebrows, and lent slightly forward again. "Do you have a gender?"
The woman gave a faint snicker, and merely answered, "Yes."
The asari looked mildly annoyed, mildly amused at that. "More specific, then - what is your gender?"
"I'm female, if that's what you're asking." The tall alien gave a slow wink and a grin. Yes, those were very definitely fangs in her mouth, at least three times as long as the rest of the teeth, and probably the source of the slight accent she has.
She blinked twice at the sight of the fangs. 'Honestly,' she thought, 'who still has fangs?'. "Yes," she coughed lightly, and went back to typing. "Quite." The Asari made a sweeping motion with her hand, and started to type again. "Chirality?"
The tall, exotic woman shrugged slightly, "I can eat human food, so I'm most likely levo, if I understand that question correctly."
"Uh huh. Date of birth?"
Joru's eyes went abstracted, flickering ever so slightly, as if focused on something that wasn't there for a moment, "I'm one hundred ninety five thousand two hundred forty seven T-CUT days old, and the current gal-standard date is Day 112, Year 2461. Call the birth date Day 307, Year 1971." She gave a slight grin, "Though, I prefer thinking in Terran Coordinated Universal Time. Five hundred thirty four isn't that old."
The asari looked back up at the figure once hearing her age, slight shock on her face. She might not have been the most culturally inclined of her kind, but she knew the Asari and Krogan were the only modern species capable of living for such a long time, though Krogan mostly found ways to kill themselves far earlier than that age. Even more, she was unaware of what a Darastrix might be, but the one in front of her looked and felt young.
"Could you repeat your age for me?" She had to be sure.
The tall woman shrugged slightly, the chain wrapped around her forearms clinking a bit, and gave a faint grin, "Four hundred ninety galactic standard years." She gave a slightly amused grin at the asari's reaction, "I'm not about to keel over dead, if that's what you're waiting for."
"Huh. And the charge?"
Anderson stepped closer at the asari's last question, "She's being held for questioning about being found in a restricted, military area without proper authorization. That's all you need to know at this time."
The Asari looked slightly disappointed for a second, her professional visage back in place. She nodded to the human, and tapped a few keys on her omni-tool. "Requesting two armed officers for prisoner transfer on the reception."
Anderson gave a slight nod, the woman giving a slight grin at the mention of the officers. Her brow rose slightly as the pair of turians arrived and gave them a quick, appraising glance. A slight smile touched her lips, "All for little old me? I'm flattered."
The Asari shook her head, her face taking distinctively amused features. "Standard procedure, I'm afraid. Officers, the...", she stopped, glancing at the formal attire of the human and reading his rank with some difficulty. She didn't want to be outed as someone lacking in xeno-culture. "...Captain will explain the situation."
Anderson nods and gave specifics while Joru lent nonchalantly against the countertop, a faint grin touching her lips. The base of the right horn was slightly creased, as if it was cut or gouged at one point, as if someone had tried to sever it. She rested her elbow on the countertop, tail swishing a little as the glanced down at the asari. This close, the faint, slightly spicy scent of her was noticeable, though not unpleasant. "Only two guards. Well, I guess it's a start." Her voice was low, confidential, and her red eyes glanced towards the blue-skinned alien, appraising, and subtly disturbing. From this range, the faint scales on her face are clearly visible, as are the ones on her hands. Faint and small, they looked more like snakeskin than the heavier scales of most reptiles.
The blue-skinned alien shivered a bit, having never personally felt the gaze of a predator, but instinctively knowing to be wary. She looked directly on the eyes of the lizard-like female, before lowering her own to her omni-tool. She quickly flicked out another long sequence, and an answering beep came from both Turian Guards' own tools. She nodded at the guards, "Call it a hunch."
The taller alien gave the asari a quick little predatory grin, "See you later, maybe..." She stepped forward, holding out her manacled hands. "Let's go, boys, time's wasting. Show me to my suite." She grinned down at the dour-faced turian.
The slightly taller Turian took a few steps forward, face-plates opened in a mixture of a grimace and a sneer. Wearing the standard black-and-blue patterned Citadel Security armor, the guard would have cut an impressive figure, if not for the even-taller, draconic-looking prisoner. With eyes narrowed, he turned to the other turian to motion towards the doors leading to the prison cells.
"You will remain quiet while in C-Sec custody," droned the Turian. "Anything and everything you say will be recorded and may be used against you."
Joru gave a soft smirk, her two-meter tail swaying slowly behind her, curling and arching almost hypnotically as she followed the first turian, listening to the other one drone behind her. Her eyes kept flicking left and right, taking in the corridor walls and ceiling as well as the floor. At one point, she pivoted, moving with easy grace on the balls of her bare feet, bared claws lightly clicking on the hard floor, making a complete circle as she checked out a light fixture, flashed the droning turian an grin, and came back around to the front. Her attitude was one of mild amusement, not at all that of a prisoner being marched to the detention area.
The droning turian narrowed his eyes even more, the black sclera almost disappearing, leaving only a uniformly cold, steel-gray orb staring back at the amused prisoner. Walking quicker so that he was not left behind, the dour C-Sec grunted, hands fiddling with the safety lock of his M-8 avenger.
"If you think this is funny, prisoner, I'm sure you'll really like our...hospitality." Sneered the slightly smaller, albeit gruffer Turian. "I hear prison food may even be something other than 'horrendous', these days."
The other security guard shot him a look, and shook his head a bit, before droning on about Joru's 'rights'.
She didn't even bother to suppress her grin, "Oh, no doubt about it. Then again, I've only eaten Systems Alliance MREs, and prison food couldn't possibly be worse than those." Her tail almost knocked into the hurrying guard as he moved closer, brushing quickly past his leg, though the woman shifted with eerie grace to avoid knocking his legs out from under him. She twisted to give him an arched eyebrow, then smirked at his drawn gun, flexing her arms in a shrug, and very clearly showing off the heavy wrap of chain binding her forearms together. "I doubt it's C-Sec policy to shoot an unarmed, bound prisoner, Officer. Even if she does have a bit of a mouth on her."
With a shrug, the guard shifted lightly to face their oversized prisoner. "It is C-Sec policy to be armed at all times, and to leave it to the guards how much...force is required to ensure the law is being followed." He waved the assault rifle at that. The gruff Turian gave what could be a barking laugh, and continued until they all reached a checkpoint.
"Officers Victus and Caestron, escorting prisoner to the cells."
The human manning the checkpoint nodded at the officers. "Right. Hands on the ident pad. She been scanned yet?"
Both Turians shook their heads at that. "No, she needs scanning and weapon checks." Said the taller Turian.
"Right," he tapped a few keys, and the door opened to a small chamber beside the checkpoint. "Handscan on the wall, place your hands on the lighted circle, one at a time. Wait for the circle to blink twice before removing your hand."
Joru gave a slight shrug and stepped into the booth, eyes flicking about curiously before setting her right hand against the lighted circle. When it blinked twice, she switched hands. "Thank you for your cooperation," the man sounded rather bored. "Please look into the eyepiece," which raised into position, though the tall inmate had to lean over to gaze into it.
"Thank you for your cooperation," he said again. "Please remain still for the full-body scan." A long, vertical pole set into a track along the side of the small booth swept slowly around her, and Joru tail curled her tail protectively against her leg as the scanning device swept once, twice, thrice around her. "Thank you, you may now exit the scanner."
Joru shrugged mentally and stepped out, giving the two turians a grin. "Well, that wasn't so bad. Now, where to? I hope it isn't too far, don't want you two getting tired out escorting little ol' me." One eyelid dropped in a conspiratorial wink as she stepped over to the two guards.
"Teh," said the rough-looking Turian, clearly upset. "Keep your mouth in check, before we request a physical pat-down."
As they went back to walking, the taller Turian poked the other guard on the shoulder-plate with the muzzle of his rifle. "Victus," he whispered in warning. "We got flak last month, try to wait at least a year before doing it again."
Stepping up so he was even with the other two, Caestron resumed his staring contest, glaring at Joru from one side.
She gave him a grin, putting a bit of extra sway in her walk, her tail lashing slowly back and forth in long sinuous curves as the two turian guards lead her onward, listening to their talk and letting her eyes close.
Victus noticed what Joru was doing and snorted. Completely ignoring what his partner just warned him about, he leaned towards Joru and reached to push her forward with some strength. "Mind your step, we're not gonna stop for you." He shot at her, once again ignoring the hand-motions the taller Turian was making at him.
Her shoulder twisted, her tail snapped to the side, and she twisted her torso parallel to his thrust almost before he knew what was happening. The woman's face was serene as he missed his grip entirely and shoved empty air, nearly overbalancing himself. "Whoops, sorry about that." Though she was clearly not sorry at all. The worst bit about it, from his perspective, was that her eyes were still closed.
He snarled at that, face-plates opened and eyes narrowed into slits. "You're gonna pay for that, you w-" He reached for his compacted assault rifle, but was stopped by a strong hand.
"Calm. Down." Hissed Caestron, holding the smaller turian in place, his own gun almost forgotten in his other hand. He released Victus, and pulled him back and away from Joru. Poking his chest-plate harshly with his gun, he motioned to the prisoner and to one of the many security cameras around them. "Are you out of your mind? Do you know how much trouble you'll get if you attack a prisoner in plain sight?"
He stopped, waiting for an answer but only receiving an annoyed grunt from his partner. Grunting right back at him, the enraged Turian moved closer to Joru, simultaneously pushing Victus backwards once more as he went. "And you," he began, before stopping as he heard the grinding noise of his armored hand digging into the rifle's handle. "Behave yourself, before we call a restraining order and have you delivered to your cell trussed up like a bird for the oven, do you want that?"
She merely smirked at the pair of them as they squabbled, then shrugged, "It'd certainly make things interesting, but I usually charge if people wanna tie me up." A wicked little smirk touched her lips, those eerie red-golden eyes opening as she smirked down at Victus.
The guard groaned at that, but continued to lead the smirking prisoner towards her temporary new home. Victus, smartly, kept quiet. It took the group two more minutes of brisk-paced walk before they arrived at a corridor filled with standard-issue, omni-tool activated doors. Walking up to one in the very end of the corridor, the taller Turian activates his tool and presses it against the holographic scanner, opening the door and allowing the three to glimpse inside.
"You are to stay here until another party comes to escort you to the jury. You will receive food and water at standard prison times, and will not be allowed external access in any other situation." He said, again in his droning, well-practiced voice.
Joru glanced inside, giving a slight grin as her eyes flicked to the corners, "All for me? Nice. I've been in prisons where they'd cram six people into a cell this size." She turned to him, stepping inside the doorway with precise little movements of tail and feet, "If you can manage to keep the cooks from charring the meat too much, I'd appreciate it. I prefer my meat... very rare." She gave a wide smile, fully displaying the long fangs as she grinned down at the two turians. She stepped back through the doorway and let the door snap shut with a hiss and a clank. She was still visible through the one-way metaglass viewport set into the doorway, stepping over to the small cot and sitting almost delicately. She lifted both long legs and assumed a lotus position, her tightly-bound forearms resting on her shins as her tail curled about her in a loose circle.
The two guards waited around the door for a few moments, before they turned to leave, walking back the way they came. After a few steps, Victus let out a few, quiet chuckles, before barking loudly in laughter.
"What?" Asked Caestron, before letting out a few chuckles of his own. "You're crazy, you know that?"
Victus shrugged, throwing an amused glance back the way they came. "Kinda like that one, she has spunk. Have to agree on her food preferences, too."
The taller turian shook his head, motioning for the guard in the checkpoint that they were on their way to file the never-ending reports. "Honestly, you're as bad as a Krogan sometimes."
AN: Apologies for the long wait, peeps, I've been in something of a rut of late, and only recently found that special place that allows me to tap the story again. I hope that this answers some (but not all) of your questions, and gives you an idea of what's up with the new girl. Several people have asked what she is, and given interesting ideas, but only one person was anywhere near the mark. Then again, when someone introduces themself as a half-dragon, I have to wonder what the other half is. I hope to have the next chapter up soon, I've got some really neat ideas, and this'll be more my speed, an action chapter to balance out the dialog from this one. And no, I won't spoil things by telling you what action will happen. *wicked chuckle* You'll have to wait and see. Hopefully it won't take months this time!
I do want to request that, if you leave a review, please sign in before doing so? One person left a review I would have replied to, but because they didn't log in, I was unable to do so. *sadface*