Going back to her duties with the Ninth Fleet had been a trying time for Shepard. As she had told Roy before, it didn't feel right. It didn't sing right. Those intrusive thoughts were still plaguing her. At first, all they required was for her to catch herself and focus. But it was getting worse. There was a part of her that didn't seem to think like she used to anymore, and the hell of it was that she liked that part of herself. It gave her a very different focus when she thought of the world as a melody. It was weird. But, apparently, so was she now.
One of the things that threw her off was that Roy was not there. He was off with the Second Fleet doing some joint exercises with the Geth, of all things. She probably shouldn't be surprised, given how he had been the one to make the treaty between the Geth and the Systems Alliance happen in the first place. Not that he'd admit to it, hearing him describe the events one would think that Admiral Drescher had done it singlehandedly with him along for the ride as an spectator. But she knew better. She had heard things, and she knew him. The only person in the galaxy who'd believe the geth were not what everyone thought.
Just like the Rachni.
But while he was away, life went on. The Ninth Fleet was now at full strength. The Tenth and Eleventh had already begun their tours of duty too, but the Ninth was the vanguard of the new fleets. The newer fleets got the routes the Ninth had been securing until then. The Ninth was the fleet to open new ones. Which meant they were the ones to clear the scum out every time.
Which is what they were about to do right about now.
"Two minutes out!" the pilot called, the gunship shaking as they approached their target.
"Gear check!" the gunny called.
One by one everyone reported, Shepard included. There was an undercurrent of orange dissonance to the calls. They had heard rumors that this was the base of a large pirate outfit, and a krogan one at that. It wasn't the first time they had had brushes against krogan, they were common to be found mercenaries after all, but rarely in large numbers. They didn't know much about what was happening in orbit. Their job was to hit the base, but the song she felt as they left was chaotic. The orders weren't clear, and there was a lot of uncertainty in the pilots. And the same could be said about their own pilot, he was a lot more worried about their descent than they themselves were about the assault.
Her immediate guess was that the enemy had a larger fleet than expected, and that the fleet had a lot of small craft. It sounded counter-intuitive, but small ships with heavy weapons did reduce the advantages of their weaponry, as the excess firepower didn't help them catch the smaller, harder to hit targets one bit. It was almost like the fleets were built around fighting ships that were larger, or more powerful, than their own.
Of course, it wasn't like they were outgunned. While they were the newcomers to the galaxy, the truth is the other races were playing catch up when it came to the way their carriers played on the field with the small craft. They were a force multiplier. But that didn't mean they wouldn't catch up eventually.
The gunship shook, right as the loud report of a round hitting the kinetic barriers filled the air. Reds and oranges filled her mind as fear ran through the crowd.
"Steady!" she yelled.
The gunny was about to yell something, but several more impacts shook the gunship, drowning any rational communication with a confused cacophony of yells. Everyone wanted to be heard. No melody, just dissonant songs screaming in her head. Then, a single note. Loud and clear, bright red. The pilot.
"Grab on!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "NOW!"
She tightened her grip, and turned her magboots on. Barely a heartbeat after she had done so, a direct impact shook the entire ship, ripping out the rear door. The suddent change of pressure send three people flying, the gunny among them.
The only reason she didn't yell out a string of profanities was the fact that she wasn't in the habit of ever doing so.
"Everyone hold!" she yelled. "Emergency landing, right now!"
"We'll be sitting ducks!" the pilot yelled.
"We're not!" Shepard retorted. "We'll fight together, land now!"
She wasn't sure what did it, the fact that she was the only one with a true voice, or the fact that there was little choice otherwise. Other than herself, the rest of the marines were almost fresh out of bootcamp. But the pilot complied, banking sharply down towards the land.
"Everyone ready! Hold tight!" she yelled again.
The ship banked once more, but this time it was an erratic move. The pilot was struggling heroically, but he was losing control of the ship. But the airbrakes had done enough, and the drop landed them on the soft floor with a tumble and grinding of torn metal. Shepard managed to hold in place, but she saw at least two others lose their grip and tumble around as the ship crashed. Finally, with a final whine of the dying engines, the ship slid to a stop.
"Out, out, out!" Shepard yelled, already leading the way out the broken back of the gunship.
She hadn't taken two steps out when she stopped, throwing her arm to the side to stop anyone else from following. The instant her eyes fell on the battlefield outside, her head was filled with songs. Angry reds, a tone she hadn't heard immediately fell on their position as she pushed back. It didn't cross her mind that she hadn't even seen the enemies. She had heard the song even before her mind had processed what was outside.
"We can't get out!" one of the marines yelled.
"The front!" Shepard said.
"What? We can't-"
"Everyone on the left wall, now!" Her intentions were clear enough that everyone obeyed immediately. The already tilted gunship groaned and landed on its side. "Hit the ejection on the pilot's seat!"
She turned around and peeked out of the edge of the gunship, assault rifle in hand. As before, the song followed before her conscious processing. Enemies in the distance. The base was located on a rocky hill, surrounded by a sandy expanse that looked like a dried up lake. They were maybe a mile out, much too far. There was some cover, mostly boulders and smaller rocks, but the enemy was in a much better position that then were. She started shooting immediately, even before the enemy had realized she was there. Most of the songs were coming from the edge of her rifle's range; she would have paid a good chunk of credits to have Goldie and her Mamba with them right there. They had a designated marksman. He wasn't Goldie.
Behind her, she felt the ship shaking as the pilot's seat was ejected, and the voices of the rest of the squad. It was all grey and dull. Only the enemies mattered. She heard a shift in the song, and pulled back, a moment before a sniper rifle bullet hit the wall behind where her head had been. Damn but this was a bad spot, they needed to move and fast.
"We're moving out!" one of the marines called.
"Watch the snipers!" Shepard called. "Go!"
She swapped weapons and unracked her sniper rifle. Not her best weapon, but the one the situation called for. She fired the first shot almost immediately, the second, the rifle wasn't going to keep up. Too many targets. It wasn't even as if she had to hit them, all she had to do was keep them busy. She tried to relax, letting the song guide her. Wait for a sharp note, turn to it before it became dangerous. But it was too many.
"Si- cover! More cover!"
She dug back behind the hull, while the rest of the marines got into gear. The fallen gunship did provide some good cover, and with some of the marines now out, there was more firepower on her side. The panic was subsiding, they were starting to sing as one. She peeked out of cover, and for a moment there was something she couldn't place. They were holding back. Something-
"Move!" she yelled. "Run out, to cover, now!"
She rushed at the back of the group, the rest of the marines and the pilot all complying with her orders. The escape hatch which they had opened was not too wide, but it was enough. The first artillery shell hit short of their position, while the marines ran for cover. A second one crashed right behind them, and the fallen gunship was the only thing that saved them from being blown to bits.
Others were calling, asking for direction, or spurring each other. But just like before, it was all grey noise. They had to reach the rocky ravine. She saw the rest of her hive rushing down to safety. No, it was wrong.
"Spread! Spread! Do not give them a target!"
She jumped down and rolled into the ravine as another shell hit, and this time her kinetic barriers took the brunt of the hit. She was thrown sideways as she fell, landing painfully against a rock. Her head spun, while the grey voices around her rose. They needed her. They needed her melod-
No. This is wrong.
Hands pulled her to the side.
I'm human.
"Shepard!" the marine dragging her to safety yelled.
Yes. My name is Aliana Shepard.
"I'm fine!" she yelled. She shook herself and opened her eyes. "What are w- Three o'clock! Smithies!"
She jumped up and positioned herself. Her sniper rifle was nowhere to be found, so she unracked her assault rifle and started firing. She could hear their opponents, a small group had given chase and were shooting at them from the top of the ravine, four hundred yards away. Angry reds and purples, a berserk cadence of notes with barely a coherent thread to call a melody. Krogan, pushing forward in the middle of a bloodrage.
The song was still there, but now she was in control. She was herself again.
"How did you even see them!" Smithies yelled, his Mamba spitting rounds as he spoke.
"Because she's Sheppy!" a familiar voice called through the comms.
"Goldie!" Shepard called, relief oozing through that single word. "We're one and a half clicks north-northeast from the base, where are you?"
For an answer, the roar of a gunship decelerating could be heard, and a moment later a dozen marines were jumping down from it right on top of their opponents. She spurred her squad forward, setting a crossfire between her unit and the reinforcements. Some of the krogan tried to charge at the new arrivals. Others jumped down into the ravine for cover. Too few in numbers for both strategies to be effective at once. She dropped in cover next to Smithies, firing at the nearest targets to let him concentrate on the farther ones. And in the middle of the battle, she could hear Goldie's song, loud and clear through the chaos of lesser songs.
"Smithies," she said. "Pay attention. Goldie is singing."
She didn't see the weird look Smithies gave her.
"This is ridiculous."
Liara looked at Javik and smiled. He had protested loudly against the plan, over and over, yet nonetheless he had gone along with it every step of the way. Ridiculous or not, as her father had put it, he'd have to work with the primitives whether he liked it or not, because that was all he had to work with. And he had accepted it for the most part. Except when it came to the Hanar.
"They literally worship you, why-"
"We're not gods!" Javik snapped. "Have you learned nothing?"
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. Learning that Athame was nothing but a myth based on their ascension by the protheans had been a shock to her system. But after a while, Liara had managed to turn it around on Javik. She managed to keep her small smile under control and not show her amusement too much. Although it was likely Javik would notice anyway. Of course, that wasn't what she was saving for him as a surprise. Not that it was easy to keep things secret from him.
Javik's gaze intensified, looking at her, while Liara tried to look as innocent as she could. He might not have any faith in the hanar, which she could understand, but the drell? That was something else.
She was really looking forward to that particular meeting.
"Mistress, the shuttle is approaching," the comms called.
"I'm on my way," Liara replied. She looked at Javik and her smile melted into a bland expression. "Let's hope this works."
"Jellyfish," Javik said.
"The hanar can be useful," Liara said. "So let's try to sell this, as the humans would say."
She left the room and headed for the landing pad. The Ilos facility had been turned into a strange mix of old prothean and new asari construction. The bones were prothean. The trappings were asari. She knew for a fact that it'd make first impression on the hanar extremely negative, but she had hope. There were several question marks they had no answer for. They didn't know if indoctrination would be detectable on hanar, given the extreme differences between their neuronal pathways and those of other sentient species. They didn't know how much they actually knew about the protheans themselves. Given the way they reacted to pther species even touching prothean technology, it was conceivable that the reason for it was the same reason Benezia suspected those in charge of the beacon in the Temple of Athame kept everything so secret: Fear that others might hear of the reapers and the end of the prothean empire. Afraid of opening the Prism Box. More importantly, she wasn't sure the hanar would believe Javik was who he really was, the last remnant of the prothean empire. Because, much like it was with detecting indoctrination, their bidirectional neural system might not share information as expected.
Of course, there had plenty of data to rely on, thanks to the more adventurous asari. There was no lack of information when it came to melding between hanar and asari, and the result was always the same: Melds were low on information, high on feelings - physical and emotional.
She thought about this as she crossed the distance between the hall and the landing pad. She had to make this work.
The shuttle arrived just a few minutes later, the approach fast until a sudden deceleration less than fifty feet above the platform. Storms constantly ravaged the upper atmosphere of the ruined planet, which meant approaches had to be fast and furious. It made all landings quite exciting, specially for first timers. But after the rapid descent, the shuttle touched down softly, and the landing gear secured itself against the beams. A moment later, the doors opened, and several hanar floated out of the shuttle. Fifteen in total. More than expected.
She had made her homework. She looked closely until she recognized the subtle markings. It wouldn't do to mistake them now.
"Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers," Liara said, stepping forward and offering the hanar a small bow. The hanar took a moment before returning it. "Welcome to Ilos. I hope the trip was not too taxing."
"Doctor T'soni," the hanar replied. "This one is not disturbed by long travel."
"Your companio-"
"This one would ask to be shown the reason for the defiling of this sacred place of the enkindlers, if such a reason actually exists," the hanar interrupted.
Liara stopped short and looked at the hanar. Not that she was good at reading them, but she guessed he was rather unhappy about it. Oh well, guess there was nothing to it.
"Of course. Please, follow me."
Without any ado, Liara started walking, making her way towards the main hall. Few asari were milling around. All of them trained commandos put in place by Aethyta. Not that they looked the part, most of them looked just like random civilians or researchers milling around. But she knew that a single order and they'd wipe the hanar party in an instant. Meanwhile, Liara was describing the base as they walked.
"These statues here were the first time we saw what theprotheans might have looked like," Liara was saying, looking at the hanar as she did. A few flashes ran through the small crowd, but nothing was said out loud by the translators. Less clear than she expected, but promising, if she had read it correctly. "But of course we have no way to confirm it, so it might be some other species."
"This one would not accept any false depiction of the enkindlers," Speaks said.
"Neither would we, of course. Ah, we're here. Please, follow me."
The large door opened as she gestured with her omni-tool, and the large, reinforced door opened with a hiss. The hall was a large space, twenty feet across and ten high, with a second level on the opposite side of them. They had turned it into their main work space, and despite the size, it seemed cluttered, if comfortable.
"Vigil," Liara called. Immediately, a terminal on the right wall activated, and the somewhat distorted projection of the prothean VI came to life. "Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers, everyone, this is Vigil. The prothean VI that runs this facility, and carrying the personality imprints of Ksad Ishan, the former Prothean Chief Overseer."
"Greetings, Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers and companions. It is a pleasure to welcome you to this facility."
Liara relaxed ever so slightly. That was the code word they had agreed to in case there was no sign of indoctrination to be found. Although the uncertainty was still there. The hanar didn't answer at first, he stood - or floated - in place, until he started trembling in place.
"This one will not tolerate the impersonation of the enkindlers, not even in a virtual construct," he said. A garbled noise poured out of the other hanar, even as their skins flashed with colours.
Well, guess there's nothing to it then.
"Do you doubt this VI is of prothean make? You may ask any question you wish from it."
"Imperfect as this one might be, falling for such lies would only besmirch the words of the enkindlers. This one requests that the site of the enkindlers be cleansed of your presence, and restored at once."
There wasn't even a single moment of hesitation. It was clear to Liara that the hanar had already made their minds up. All this theatre was for nothing. It was up to Javik now.
And he realized it, too, given how he took that moment to appear on the upper landing.
"You dare request that I abandon the facility of my people?" he called out loud, stepping into view and putting both hands on the railing.
All the hanar turned at once towards the voice. Liara looked at them, and to her surprise, there wasn't a single flash of light on them. Nothing.
Are they shocked into silence? Did they recognize Javik?
"Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers, meet Javik. The last living prothean in the galaxy."
They didn't react at all.
"Well?" Javik said.
As soon as he spoke, all the hanar floated lower and tilted forward, their tentacles touching the ground as they did. But still, none of them spoke.
"Speak!" Javik demanded. "Didn't you call speech our greatest gift? SPEAK!"
Liara felt a shiver run up her spine. Javik sure knew how to turn it up when he wanted. The hanar floated even lower as he spoke, and now all of them were trembling. The fact that they had recognized him immediately was surprising, but only a little. Nobody really knew how much the hanar knew about the protheans. The asari might have known much more about the protheans if their knowledge hadn't been wrapped in myth and religion.
"T-This one..." the translator struggled to work through the irregular flashes on Speak's skin. "This one... is not worthy... of..."
As the hanar struggled, Javik walked down the ramp, and came to stand in front of Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers.
"My name is Javik. The last of my people. The Avatar of Vengeance." He looked at the hanar, and none of them spoke a single word. "My people fought, and perished, fifty thousand years ago. But before our passing, we sent a warning through our beacons. A warning of the doom that destroyed us. Tell me, did you not hear our words?"
A few flashes of colour ran through his skin, but he didn't say anything.
"SPEAK!" Javik demanded.
"These ones... These ones were blessed with the words of the enkindlers. These ones' feeble attempts are understanding the words led only to heresy."
"Heresy?" Liara said, curious now. "What heresy."
"This one would not dare repeat such words in the presence of the enkindler," Speaks said.
"Answer the question," Javik demanded.
For a moment, Speaks dipped even lower, almost as if bracing himself, and after a moment, he finally spoke. "These ones clumsy attempts at understanding told the impossible heresy of the enkindlers being destroyed by a darkness. A darkness so profound it swallowed the galaxy. This heresy is so profound it is forbidden to-"
"Primitives!" Javik interrupted in his usual phrase of frustration. Liara could only imagine the shock of the hanar there present. "An ancient race of machines which we called the reapers destroyed my people. I, together with a million of my people, hid away to wait for their passing. To raise strong and rebuild our empire. But we were betrayed by our own people, those who were indoctrinated into serving the reapers. So we send our warnings. If we fell, it was up to the primitives to prepare for the reapers!"
And with those words, all the hanar, as one, replied with the same voice.
"The will of the enkindlers be done," they all said.
Liara looked at them in shock. The fervor behind those words was palpable. That was way beyond anything she had expected. Javik, on the other hand, didn't even blink. He claimed he was no leader, no strategist. That all he wanted was vengeance for his people. But she knew better.
"The galaxy stands in the brink of extinction, and if you are to survive, and if my people are to be avenged, you must prepare to fight the reapers."
"The will of the enkindlers be done," the hanar replied once again.
Speaks' skin fashed a couple of times, but no words were picked up by the translator.
"Is there something you want to say, Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers?"
"This one... This one does not understand."
"What?" Liara insisted.
"This one cannot understand how the enkindlers would betray..." He couldn't finish the phrase. It must have been heresy of the highest degree.
How much to reveal... say too much and who knows how they'll react, Liara thought.
"The reapers have a way to control organics. Even protheans," Liara said, giving Javik a side glance. "It's called indoctrination. Those who are exposed to the traps left by the reapers become slaves to their will, start working for them without realizing. That is the reason we work in secret, we do not know who might be indoctrinated and working for the reapers yet. Vigil here can detect indoctrination, but we haven't found a way to reproduce the technology yet."
"This one would never betray the enkindlers," Speaks said.
"You wouldn't even know," Liara said. "Vigil? Are any of them indoctrinated?"
"I have established an approximate eighty percent chance that none of the present organics are indoctrinated."
"What?" Liara said, turning to look at the terminal. "Eighty percent only?"
There's fifteen of them. This could be bad.
"The neuronal systems are too different from the parameters of my programming. The effects of indoctrination on bidirectional neuronal pathways has never been studied."
"That's going to be a problem," Liara muttered.
"If this one..." Speaks spoke up. "If this one can offer this pitiful self to assist the enkindlers, this one cannot think of a greater honor than to sacrifice oneself."
What?
"There's not much you can do, Speaks-of-the-Enkindlers," Liara said. "Unless we find one of your kind who's indoctrinated we can't be sure."
"That could be arranged," Javik said.
"What?" Liara said. "No, you can't be suggesting-"
"The will of the enkindlers be done," all the hanar replied at once.
Liara looked at Javik in shock. But he was serious. Yes, there was a way for them to get a hanar indoctrinated. They had had it since Morgan had shown them the location of that derelict reaper.
He would. They had burned entire planets to avoid their own people being used against them. Sacrificing a hanar to learn about indoctrination? No, he wouldn't hesitate.
"You'll be throwing away your life! You can't-"
"The will of the enkindlers be done!" the hanar repeated once more, their voices raising in unison.
Author's Notes: We're back! And weirder than ever! If anyone is still out there, hi again! Sorry about the long delay, but in my defense, there's one thing I can say:
SCREW 2020!
What a shit year it's been. I left this story back in Dec 2019 expecting a break while I got some summer work, then the freaking 'rona happened and oh boy did things go South after that. But hey, let's get back on the saddle.
I'm adding a small, or not so small, thing. I am unabashedly asking for support (which FFnet censors quite heavily, but you can guess):
tinyurl (period) com (slash) y2q9cop6
(Man FFnet sucks at adding hyperlinks).
Why? Because while things were looking OK for me and my business, 2020 decided that no, I was going to get screwed. And while the screwiness is pretty generalized, I'm hoping that maybe a little bit of support can make things go better.
What does that actually mean? It means that this is no longer something I do when I feel good about it and set some time for myself. This is now something I do on the regular.
Thus: Weekly updates from now until I get kicked out of the site. For everyone who wants to read, or not. Right here in the open (unless FFnet bans me LOL but I'm backing up my stories just in case).
Let's hope I don't burn myself out of this!
So, leaving that aside, this chapter might be a bit weird, which made re-starting the story a bit hard too. Think Shepard is sounding weird? Yes. But I'm not intending for it to be a permanent thing (and this isn't much of a spoiler because I'll be following up soon). And Liara and Javik? Oh that's something I want to have fun with. But the hanar? Oh yeah, gonna be interesting, that. I think. Or at least I hope, heh. And yeah, nevermind the hanar. A small army of Drell operatives? Oh yeah, that's going to be fun to play with.
So let's see, next chapter will be also about retaking some threads and working on the next step. There's a LOT of threads in the air, and I have a lot of notes on where things are going. Except that I've gone off the rails compared to my old notes a couple of times. Ah well, that's life I guess.
Until then, thanks for reading, and will see you next week!