I do not own warhammer 40k sadly, nor Mass Effect...
"A marvelous specimen of pre-element zero machinery, old friend. Do you ah, know of where this machine was found?"
The voice graited his post human ears as he slept, his dreams hopefully only briefly interrupted by the nasally, quick tone he had heared from countless mortals of scientific profession in their last moments.
"We do not quite yet know, I have a near literal army of analysts going through the excavation site. And a scan of this find will be completed within the hour."
The two annoyances continued their analysis, robbing him of his peace once again. He forced himself to try to return to his slumber. The dreams of Vindication and Vengeance slowly ebbing back to him.
" Though primitive, this machine may provide paths to the development of non-element zero reliance for the Union as well as shift the balance of power towards us."
Enough! he will gain his slumber even if he must do it from atop a mound of pathetic corpses!
Fiber bundles quaked, and exhaust vents sputtered and failed as the ten thousand year old super warrior tried to rouse his Sarcophagus to life, its single ocular blazing with crimson hatred at the... Xenos... Comparatively diminutive amphibians that stood as a man would. With his remaining eye he watched as the creatures observed him.
"Run little Xenos! Harxah the Taloned Fate Has Come For You!"
His words, evidently not reaching beyond his confines, felt leadened as the aliens scanned his frame, their fervent researching insensing him further as he thrashed and raged, his uncooperative Sarcophagus slowly budging to his demands.
"Initiate lockdown protocols! the machine has activated and- ahk!"
The rust between his gears atomized with the vibration of his reactor blazing to life,he suddenly snapped the diminutive amphibian in his powerclaw, its power field howling to life as it obliterated the scientist in a cloud of red mist.
"Your pitiful lives end here, Xenos! Harxah the Taloned Fate will have a new trophy yet!"
He smiled and bellowed in laughter, remembering how he had nitted entire clokes, capes, and tabards out of each Xenos race he had exterminated in his service to his legion. It saddened him that his lesser trophies had not hung from his Sarcophagus in the long war, like his shawl made from the flensed faces of loyalist chaplains, or his bandolier of skulls taken from the blade masters of at least several different legions. All of them burned when his father, Konrad Curze, ordered the death of Nostromo.
He willed himself forward, smashing through a wall before walking down a bright hallway. Activating his Preysight he smiled, watching as a squad of the aliens baracaded the door between them, as if it could stop his righteous decimation of their worthless kind.
He push through the hastily made baracade, crushing some xenos underfoot as he lashed at any who drew close enough. The aliens returned his righteous fury with pitiful resistance, their weapons pinging off his Sarcophagus, not even damaging his paint as he lazily waded through their ranks.
A moment passed as the last salarian fell into a pile of gore, huddling into a ball as the monster that had Annihilated the entire research deck stood above him, it's crimson ocular watching him before turning, scraping it's claws against the walls while it began to march deeper into the research ship...a single survivor, one to tell it's kind of the horror that now came for them.
[Aboard the Normandy, just after rescuing the krogan shaman from the STG base]
Shepard, savior of the citadel council, destroyer of the collector base, bane of the reapers... really, really needed to find a bed.
In the time between now and the day the Reapers hit earth he'd gotten seven days of uninterrupted sleep. He had been running himself ragged to further the war effort in any way he could, sending resources to Hackett, finding lost ships and flotillas from almost every race...he was lucky to have an hour of sleep before someone wanted to speak with him about something that needed doing, Hackett, Anderson, the Council, etc.
Once within his chambers he undid his chestplates connection points, letting it fall to the ground before flopping into bed... groaning as he sunk into the warm beddin-
"Commander, the salarian councilor is on the vidcom...says it's urgent."
Shepard's eye twitched as he lay still for a moment, silently cursing Joker a thousand times over in his head.
"I'll be there in a minute."
He slowly and painfully stood, getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a N7 hoodie.
'If they wanted a happy, nicely dressed Shepard, they wouldn't have called me just after a mission.'
Shepard lazily saundered out of his quarters and into the elevator, heading down to the command deck. He grumbled as he was subjected to the mandatory security screening, stretching out as he walked into the war room. He gave a friendly wave to Wrex and to Victus before entering the QEC Vidcom center.
Within the holo-tank, the familiar, inept, form of the salarian councilor appeared.concern and worry marring his usually placid and dismissive feature's.
"Commander Shepard. I apologize for disturbing you so soon after a mission but this could not wait.One of our research ships above Sur'kesh containing critical research data has gone dark and all of the teams we have sent to investigate never reported in. And with the events on the ground, we can only speculate the worst."
Shepard was silent, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he screamed internally.
"I can get there soon Councilor, send over the coordinates."
The hologram of the Councilor nodded respectfully and bade Shepard farewell before fading away, the ship coordinates passing up to the galaxy map.
Shepard yawned, flipping the bird at the QEC in petulant tiredness before leaving the war room for the galaxy map. The 'Enduring Civility' now listed as a destination.
I would like to thank ekcja for their advice, as a writer who can barely hold onto plot bunnies, I take every opportunity to improve when errors are pointed out and civilly addressed. I will take your input to heart and rectify my lapses in writing for the future.
With that said, May the Omnissiah Bless you with fair tidings and an Untroubled day.