Thanks for all the reviews. Heres a new chapter; I've been stuck on it for a while. Couldn't figure out what I wanted to write and trying to figure out how to.
On other news, the Co-an (Co-author) decided to jump back in occasionally and edit/write. Turns out, he thought I was kidding on continuing this.
Thanks to Detaa for beta-reading.
Please leave a review.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Repeat.
The number was correct. There were only six in his squad. His mind was clear like a pristine lake. Air scrubbers were fine and there were no punctures in his suit.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Repeat.
He, in other words, was fine.
Feena. Yol'Zume, Vira'Nix, Garo, Varik, R'Lee. Bob… Repeat
Then why did R'Lee feel something was off? The thought gnawed like a varren would a bone. He looked around, knees aching from being forced on them for so long. He still couldn't understand what he was seeing. He doubted that anyone else in his squad did.
They were dragged to a place of worship, a church. On a ship.
It wasn't that unusual to his knowledge. All of the Citadel races usually had something similar: The asari had meditation rooms to Athame, usually placed near the hull as if to have one attuned with space. Turians sometimes had a shrine, where they placed souvenirs and trinkets for luck and protection. Korgan had their spoils of war and skulls from their enemies. Volus, their server farms.
It was also a known fact that the hanar had the largest churches in space; some spanning entire stations to the Enkindlers.
These… asaroids were going tentacle-to-toe on that front. This place was less a ship and more a literal temple with engines on it.
The intricate, elaborate details of this bizarre place; the embellishments, the decor and the layout. The architecture was alien and familiar: It had the pews that the batarians used for their worshippers; enough skulls and bones to make any krogan stare; and the luxury of a volus magnate with a taste for gold and finery.
Massive statues lined the side of the walls, their imposing presence casting long shadows across the cavernous space. Each sculpture depicted an entity, perhaps revered by the inhabitants of this place— all of whom were bearing weapons of sorts aimed at them. Huh, now that he thought about it, the ones on the ship's exterior were the same.
Then his eyes were drawn to the centrepiece, a colossal figure seated on a throne at the chamber's far end—a crown of golden leaves on its brow. The asaroid was gazing down at them with a stern visage, his immaculately crafted face projecting an air of authority. Jeweled azure eyes in particular sent judging looks that seemed to pierce straight through R'Lee.
This being of worship could give the asari's goddess a run for Her credit.
He looked back down to the rest of his squad.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Repeat. Something was nagging him still. What was it? He wanted to lower his aching arms but resisted the idea.
Garo, the squad marksman, tried to lower his hands earlier, but one of their guards raised his weapon in response. Hands back up, gun back down. The two ended up doing this little dance a few times before a different guard got fed up and scolded his peer.
That was also another thing puzzling R'Lee. His captors. They were a collection of species, he guessed. The first ones, now that he'd had a much closer look at their clear glass, spherical helmets, were similar to the asari—shades of brown instead of blue skin, and scalps bearing fur than elongated ridges.
Then there were the ones who mugged him and his squad of their electronics and weapons; faces hidden within hoods and masks, with multitudes of grabby limbs, appendages and scientist's tools.
Feena, who was on R'Lee's left, couldn't help but sense his unease. She leaned slightly towards him and whispered, "R'Lee, sir, are you alright? You've been… quiet."
R'Lee felt a tinge of anger bubbling beneath the surface. He knew it wasn't fair to blame Feena entirely, but the frustration still lingered. He took a deep breath before responding, his voice hushed, "Just trying to figure things out, Feena. This whole situation is... well, it's beyond anything we've dealt with before. I rather be captured by pirates; at least I know how those scum work."
"We'll get through this, sir. We always do," Feena picked up on the subtle tension, her voice died down at the end.
"Thank you for the optimism." Maybe she was feeling guilty as well, R'Lee didn't know. She shouldn't be, not as much. Still, he appreciated her attempt to reassure him, but the weight of responsibility pressed on him.
He was the sergeant— the leader— and they were his squad.
Yol'Zume, on R'Lee's right, chimed in quietly, "What do you think they want with us?"
"I have no idea," R'Lee replied, his eyes scanning the strange symbols and writing on the walls. "They want us alive, though, what that entails…" he left the sentence hanging.
Yol'Zume grimly nodded.
Garo, a bit farther away, spoke up with a concerned tone, "I think I saw something moving up on the rafters. And it's big."
"Always with your head in the stars, huh?" Yol'Zume snarked.
"If I wasn't, a shuttle would've landed on you by now." Garo glared at Yol'Zume, his annoyance a physical thing.
R'Lee was about to shut them the hell up, but their captors did it for him with rifle butts to the head. R'Lee winced at the audible thuds as his two subordinates hit the ground.
Their captors remained impassive, observing the scene with a cold detachment. Some of them seemed… amused.
Damn bosh'tets. Damn them.
"Yol'Zume, are—"
"Keep your eyes to yourself, Garo," Yol'Zume grumbled as she reeled on the ground.
"Both of you, save it!" R'Lee ordered, frustration evident in his voice. "How are they?"
"They're fine. Just dazed," said Vira'Nix.
That's good, R'Lee thought. He didn't know how he would handle a suit rupture under these conditions. Vira'Nix may be the squad medic, but he doubted that she could do much if they weren't allowed a single inch to move.
"We can rush them," Yol'Zume suggested. "I count only three against our six."
"Did that hit make you stupid?" said Feena.
"Four." Garo reminded.
R'Lee considered the hot-headed Yol'Zume's tempting proposition, yet cold hard reality washed out the idiocy from his mind. He couldn't recall how they were herded to this room after the dizzying array of turns and rooms. And even if that was solved, the shuttle was long gone, or he would've seen more quarians here with them.
If they were captured, his mind brooded in reply.
"No," R'Lee finally said. "Even if we win, where would we go? We need information, not to brawl and think like krogan."
As Yol'Zume was about to reply, a loud, echoing moan cried out. The doors, giant thick monstrous slabs of metal and stone, split open. A subtle vibration filled the room as light from the outside showed through the gap, and in walked something that R'Lee was baffled by.
It was a monster parade.
Their synchronized footsteps announced their presence. The dim light cast elongated shadows, heightening the eerie atmosphere
At the forefront of the procession, a purple-hooded figure swung a ball-shaped cage suspended from a thin chain, releasing tendrils of heavy smoke that wafted through the air. The rhythmic motion of the incense container was almost hypnotic, cutting into the mist and pushing it further.
Following him were others in identical robes, their faces also obscured by hooded veils— though it did little to hide the various limbs and strange attachments. Each step they took echoed in harmony, creating an unsettling symphony that reverberated through the cavernous space. Their movements were smooth, as if gliding across the floor rather than walking.
It was… unnervingly mechanical.
Amidst the procession, a much larger figure loomed. It was robed in the same purple as the ones surrounding it, but standing at least two heads taller. A slight slouch could be seen with it looking down on those in front with its three optical lenses. Its five-digited hands were out in front, fingertips together. What caught R'Lee's attention the hardest about this figure… figurehead, were the four metal tendrils swinging loosely from its back, each tipped differently from the other.
A second gaggle of beings sauntered behind the religious group's march, the asaroids, sporting better, up-armoured suits compared to their guards, as well as holding heftier weapons. All of it seemed well-used. The figurehead of the group was the most… ostentatiously donned, with a thick brownish-red smear on the front— out of place on the elaborate armour.
R'Lee shot Yol'Zume a stern look, silently warning to keep her ideas to herself. R'Lee had a hunch that they might have some answers soon. Not like they came here to pray by the looks of it.
The procession halted near them and the guards stood at attention, weapons on their left shoulder, right-hand saluting. One of them, who R'Lee had a hunch was the head guard, spoke in a melodious tongue.
The largest of the group approached, a path between the robed bodies parted for him, his four tendrils swinging like living snakes. He, or it, turned its three optical lenses towards the guards. Then it focused on them. Its gaze was intense, and it seemed to linger on R'Lee and the group. It uttered a series of cold and emotionless words in the same strange language as the guards.
The guards winced, likely having been reprimanded.
The large figure shoved past the guard and stood before them. It leaned forward, as much as possible as its bulk could do, until it dwarfed them, the slightest movement ever forward condemning them all to be crushed underneath its bulk. R'Lee looked up, the figure was bigger than anything he'd seen, even an elcor. He could hear the sound of something ticking and churning, so close it was. Like a machine. Like a geth.
Suddenly, the large figure reached into its baggy sleeve and pulled out an ivory orb. At first, R'Lee was puzzled, but as the figure unfurled its clawed fingers, he became horrified. A skull— bleached white and with strange machinery attached to its base and front. He found himself both perplexed and startled as he tried to juggle the reasons behind this.
The large figure tossed the skull.
R'Lee expected it to clatter on the floor.
The skull instead hovered in the air for a moment. Then, to his astonishment, it began to float to the large figure's face; who then began to make a strange oscillating hum. The grotesque animation of bone and machine rotated slowly in mid-air, revealing a sole, red mechanical eye to the group.
"Oh, ancestors," Yol'Zume whispered.
Suddenly, it changed trajectory, going towards the side and stopping in front of another individual beside the large figure— the one with the smear.
R'Lee hadn't even noticed when this second figure had moved. As the thing floated to the newcomer, hovering in front of its helmeted face. The figure stood motionless and seemingly unperturbed.
Then, he spoke in that language of theirs— melodic as it pitched and ebbed in tone. It sounded masculine, a 'male' he'd reasoned. Then R'Lee could hear an air of scornful authority as it spoke. Both in the pattern of speech and the way he held himself, the figure was confident.
It led R'Lee to believe that this man, perhaps, was someone high up the chain of command.
The skull seemed to respond to the words, its optics flickered briefly as it bobbed around. Then, it floated away from the second figure before hovering above R'Lee and his group. There was a strange, gridded box where the jaw would've been.
It was a speaker.
The voice that crackled to life from it was masculine and monotone.
"I desire to know whom among you is the guide. I intend to fornicate with your least inferior. We are exile-of-fleet merchant Pure Rock of the Empire of man and magician Nokia of Apprentice Mechanics."
What. That didn't sound quite correct. The words were indeed Khelish, alright. Albeit an older variant. Did they know of quarians before? He doubted it, they seemed surprised at their existence.
He should suggest they review the first contact packages on the Odir. If he makes it out. They might be outdated.
Raising a hand from his head, R'Lee responded. "I… am going to answer you as if you meant that literally. Yes, I am the… guide of this squad, Marine Sergeant R'Lee, and although my wife would never approve of me for… fornicating with anyone else, she does find me a most superior lover. May I stand?"
The second figure erupted into laughter as the skull translated, reverberating through the quiet surroundings in a booming echo, triggering chuckles from the asaroids. Soon, they were all laughing.
Amidst the mirth, R'Lee noticed a slight twitch in the of the large figure's largest lense. He heard what might have been a crack of sorts. His fingers began to rapidly close into a fist and open. It seemed the booming laughter was not to his liking. A sense of tension began to build as the laughter continued, and R'Lee couldn't help but feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
The skull abruptly rushed back to this 'Nokia', floating obediently into an open hand. A clawed tendril stretched out and proceeded to interface with a socket on the skull. Once satisfied, it was released back into the open air. A buzz left 'Nokia's' mouth— or whatever it used as one.
The skull spoke again, its words not constrained by any word order rules of the Quarian language oddly arranged yet more comprehensible this time.
"Understanding, can you now us? Gothic to Khelish; syntax law/rules and grammatical fault. Lack of reference with cogitators. You understand? You can confirm?" The skull bobbed in the air as if emphasising each question. "And with fornicate 'All Stone' discouraged. Encourage not him."
R'Lee blinked, taken aback by the strange phrasing. He glanced at his squad, who all shared his confusion. Clearing his throat and rising to his feet, much to his relief, he responded, "Yes, we can understand you better now. Your adjustments seem to have worked."
The laughing had died down by now; 'All Stone' composed himself. He gave a nod of approval to 'Nokia' and a pat on his shell, which responded with a tilt of the mechanical giant's head.
The earlier tension seemed to have been eased greatly, R'Lee had some hopes that perhaps, just maybe, things might be for the better for them.
"Good, that news excellent is. I harm apologies to you; the guard punish severely for transgressions/issue— I swear to primarch-spirit. Now, let you escort us commune to with your species; they are nearby in ship their. The servant-of-the-machine screaming relay is distant unless need you those-who-screams-with-souls magick. I insist to you speak strongly to them," 'All Stone' said.
… Perhaps further adjustments were needed. R'Lee told them as much.
Captain Chu eased back into his worn seat, gently massaging his visor as if to soothe the throbbing headache underneath. The room fell into hushed silence; the bridge crew hunkering down amongst the verbal storm coming from the glowing displays in front of Chu. The hum of the other six captains of the Scouting fleet continually pounded his head, their voices echoing off the metallic room.
He wished for some filtered brandy.
Things had started well — some fellow ships had offered supplies and parts to address the damage Odir had sustained, an offer Chu had no choice but to accept willingly. Then they noticed how close he was to a certain something. That something was a massive, active derelict within spitting distance of him and producing more thermal and RF emissions than a warfleet at full power, seemingly at idle. And after sending all the relevant files, Chu found himself pulled into an impromptu video-call meeting to address the matter.
Such meetings were not uncommon; in fact, they were routine for the ships and captains of the Scouting crews. The isolated nature of their missions meant that communication with the main fleet was sometimes sparse or impossible to maintain, especially when a crucial decision or opinion was needed regarding a significant discovery. Consequently, Scouting ship captains wielded substantial decision-making power.
Which also meant a lot of responsibilities for said captains.
So the tradition of assembling ships for meetings was established when things weren't blowing up around them. But, only in situations requiring collaboration or the emergence of a critical issue. These gatherings provide an opportunity for captains to share insights, exchange crucial information, and collectively decide on the best course of action. Or as they say 'fleet unity, endless possibility,' to everyone outside the Scout crews.
However, in Chu's personal experience, it went more of "To the captain the spoils; junk and scraps for everyone else not on his side." And now, the entire group had split into two, even sections. One for boarding and claiming the wreck and the other to leave to get more assistance.
And much to his chagrin and dismay, he had a history with the leaders of both sides. And not the good kind.
"We must board!" Captain Kee'Ris insisted once more. "The ship is surely no danger to us; simply some leftover defences from its previous owners. We can overcome them. It is unfortunate about the noble sacrifice of Captain Chu's men… but the risk is well worth the rewards. And his marines have the most information about it so far."
Sure, the risk is worth the rewards… when you try to reap the varren's share of it, Chu thought. He stayed silent, trying to think, as Kee'Ris continued to argue for assaulting the leviathan outside, boasting and goading the other captains to join him. A few have.
It galled him as they made light work of the trouble Rlee and his squad were in. But, those idiots made it seem that they were dead. They couldn't be dead.
However, Chu knew he had the shortest stick here. His ship was in the worst condition out of them all, at the fickle whims of others. He knew how this usually played out; he'd been on either side of the hull before, so to speak. Both sides would try to coerce the remaining to their view.
Kee'Ris was trying to egg his ego and pressure him to join, if only to 'rescue' his crew. The most likely thing was he wanted cannon fodder.
The ship wasn't actively hostile, Kee'Ris was right on that front. But, given that it was currently under power and he had no clues of what was going on inside it— with no way of knowing, could he justify joining Kee'Ris at the risk of many more lives?
He will not be the first to board it again. But if the votes tallied for it…
"I have said it once, and I'll say it again— what if it's a trap?" Captain Vaatha cut in. " You are asking for six ships worth of marines to assault something bigger than a live-ship? Did you get a suit leak? That behemoth came out of nowhere. Sending more men is not only reckless of you, Kee'Ris, like a certain captain here, but it jeopardises the unity of our fleet. We must report this, it is imperative."
Chu knew she was referring to him. Vaatha wielded logic and common sense, and he would've agreed with her points… if it wasn't for one thing.
"What about us and the Odir?" Chu added his voice into the maelstrom. "Her drive core is still out. We can limp, but travel? Impossible."
"As you wisely pointed out, the Odir is handicapped, unable to keep pace. So we must consider the bigger picture here; we must leave it."
The words were hard for Chu to hear and he gripped the armrest, his digits digging into the leather. It was a… bitter drink to swallow. He'd been its captain for the last fifteen years and his family before him. This was his home.
It was his.
"It is the bigger picture," Chu admitted. He glared at Vaatha's image, at the hidden smirk in her eyes. She was enjoying this. "However, my head engineer believes that the issue will be resolved. It's my duty to ensure that everything can be done for the Odir before anything drastic actions are taken."
"Our duty is to the fleet, not just one ship. We shall return, share our findings, and bring a strong force for whatever lies ahead." Vaatha admonished sternly. "Captain Chu'van, I fully understand Odir's problem. And I empathise, I'll take anyone who wants to go back on my ship and leave some parts. The least I can do for a friend. But, we need your excellent leadership here. Who knows if they would be open to diplomatic solutions?"
Staying behind as a sacrifice for the greater good, Chu translated. And he knew that she was using the 'diplomatic solution' line as a way to screw him over. She received the feed and knew of what they'd been doing for the past day. If anyone on that mountain of metal wanted to talk, they would've done it by now or at least given some sort of sign.
This was payback for him doing the same to her many years ago when he outplayed her for resources for the Odir; leaving her to deal with the irate owners. And she knew it would work— he was unwilling to leave the Odir regardless.
"I recall that time is of the issue; we were supposed to reconvene with the fleet earlier to show the data we have so far of this system," someone added in. "Perhaps it is wise to just follow Vaatha's plan. The Civilian Fleet is burning resources as we speak, waiting for us."
"Then it is a good thing we will bring more than just data. We will bring a live-ship. There are probably more resources on it than what we would mine and refine before the 'heat cycle' of this planet starts up," said Kee'Ris.
"It is in a stable orbit over a backwater world in the middle of nowhere. I doubt someone would discover and secure it in the time we are gone," said Vaatha. "And if they did… our good captain here can assert our claims."
Chu scoffed. Like anyone would listen to a quarian of all species on a listless ship.
"Speaking of which, we are split; Chu'van is the swing vote. I will… comply with whatever is decided here. However, I strongly suggest my choice." said Kee'Ris.
Chu kept silent. The time was coming. The blade was above his head now.
"I agree, What will your decision be, Captain Chu'Van vas Odir nar Odir. Attack, or Retreat?" Vaatha announced. All of the captains focused on Chu.
Chu grappled with the weight of the decision before him. On one side, he had the prospect of recusing his crew, saving his friend R'Lee, from whatever held them. It was a captain's duty to protect, lead and guide his ship and crew to the best of his ability and to protect the fleet. The whisper in the back of his head mentioned that if he did follow Kee'Ris, the promise of at least some of the materials on the derelict would be his; it tugged with his responsibility.
However, Vaatha was the most logical. And it was the most bitter, even though it might have been a personal vendetta for a past slight against her— The Odir was truly unable to follow as she put it. And it was, sadly, the most sound decision to leave it behind: whether to establish possible relations or to keep an eye on any changes.
But, it might just doom whoever stayed behind, especially him. The fact that she was at least willing to take most of the unnecessary crew with her was a small consolation.
As both the major captains waited silently, their respective supporters got impatient and began goading Chu to make up his mind already.
Chu felt a deep pang of conflict well up within him. The Odir was more than a ship; it was his. It was his home; the home of his family legacy. It was the home of his crew… would he rather abandon those in the derelict or risk them all to save them and possibly damn everyone, or leave those on the derelict and himself behind while help arrives?
… He hated Kee'Ris more. "My crew is on the Odir, my legacy is the Odir, but I cannot risk the lives of my crew any more than I alrea—"
"Captain, wait! Juh and I have something!" Fult shouted. Both of their consoles began to flare; lights and sounds spiking on the displays. Others on nearby stations began to follow.
"What is it?" asked Chu. He looked at his display; the signals of the other captains were fluctuating. The Odir shook and the bridge electronics flickered for a moment. He could hear panic on their end from their crew; shouts and orders blaring amidst a veil of broken static.
"The ship, it's… powering up. And there's a signal, wide-broadcast, being transmitted from—"
The Odir shook even harder. He'd grown used to it. The derelict's transmitter and antenna array were obscene, and could frankly be used as a directed energy weapon all on its own. Given the panicked, distorted squawking on the line, Vaatha was getting the brunt of EM this time around.
It gave him some momentary glee. Then the shaking stopped.
"It's winding down, but the signal is still there. I think they want to talk. To us. Audio only." said Fult.
"Accept their hail," Vaatha ordered as she clambered back into view of her screen.
Fult waited for her captain's order. That made Chu smile.
"Accept the transmission."
As Fult complied, the audio crackled and hissed. The VI, Fult and Juh worked diligently to correct the broken signal into something that could be decoded. Chu, his crew and those of all the other ships waited in suspense as a sound, a voice, on the other end began to take form.
Chu leaned forward in his seat, anxious to know what had been tormenting him and his ship. The voice, once a tiny whisper, grew strength. And finally, the mystery was solved.
"Odir… respond… This is Sargent R'Lee vas Odir nar Chayym. Can you hear me now?"
Chu's heart skipped a beat. The bridge was silent.
The voice was indeed his Master-of-Arms…
"R'Lee vas Odir nar Chayym. This is Captain Chu'Van vas Odir nar Odir, we read you loud and clear."
"Captain Chu'Van. It is good to hear from you, my friend. I have… quite the tale to tell you, and am happy to report everyone in my squad is in good health, minus a few bruises."
Chu was glad to hear that. He'd relay the good news to their friends and family after this. However, he had to be sure of one thing.
"Your wife would be glad to hear that you are fine. Your son has been worried sick about you; he cries in engineering over his toys."
There was a stall. "I am glad to hear that… she misses me. Tell my son I am fine, and don't cry. His father will be back soon."
Verification phrase received. It indeed was R'Lee. Finally, things were going right.
"That he will. Be advised, I am currently in a meeting concerning your status with other captains of the fleet. Now, begin your report."
"One of my squad found the owners of the 'Darwin'— the name of this vessel. They seem to be a coalition of multiple races. And they have been hospitable and are stranded so to say… They wish to establish contact with the Admiralty."
The revelation hung in the air. This was something major, important. They were, perhaps, making their mark in galactic history here. Diplomacy with a new species. Chu had some reservations.
However, Captain Kee'Ris, ever the opportunist, spoke up. "Why should we?" he hissed. "We can take control of that ship; I doubt they could fend us all off. Think of the technology. The resources. My scanners don't detect even the slightest trace of eezo, not a drop. It looks fearsome; I agree. But if we attack them now—"
"That voice… Kee'ris…" R'lee cut in. His words mixed with disbelief and a tinge of anger. "I highly advise against that course of action, not when they wish to speak. I've seen things on this ship. Strange, bizarre things. We should tread carefully, please. I insist, for our sake."
Kee'Ris scoffed loudly, folding his arms, "Oh please, as if they could do much of anything running on emergency power. I bet we can even fly a frigate in that hole and start blas—"
Juh interrupted, her voice tense, "Captain, I'm picking up signatures— five of them: Four at an estimated length of fifty-five metres, one at ninety metres. They're launching from a hangar on the opposite side of the derelict."
"Some of the turrets are aiming at us!" Fult fearfully added. "Especially the big ones."
The bridge crew's attention turned to the displays, scanning the incoming objects and the moving masses of pivoting metal. Someone swore out loud, and Chu'Van mentally cursed the gung-ho Kee'Ris. This was yet another reason to hate him.
A new voice became heard, cool and certain.
"If you wish to be stupid, we will not object."