A/N: Hello everyone. A quick note before the main chapter. After a long and intensive discussion in PMs with one of my reviewers, I have decided to make several changes to the story. Not major by any means, but parts of the first few chapters will receive partial re-writes. The plot will not be impacted in a major way, however the portrayal of both carvins and the Citadel Council needs to be changed, since after I first started this total re-write effort back in 2021, I took an almost year long break in writing between chapters 9 and 10. Again, there will be no total overhauls, so if you have read the first two chapters before, don't worry. The event chain will follow roughly the same path.
A side effect of this decision may be a slowdown in upload rate of ordinary chapters, but I will try my best to not exceed the 2 week waiting mark. No promises. And as for this chapter's delay, this is due to the aforementioned discussion, a few initial corrections in earlier chapters, a partial re-write of THIS chapter, and the release of Baldur's Gate 3, which I'm enjoying probably far more than I should :D. Hopefully it doesn't suck up all of my writing time, and I'll try to get the next chapter in less than two weeks this time. That being said,
Enjoy!
Frontier Sector, Qreten
Lower Atmosphere, Interior of a Sand Roach shuttle
0857 Local Time, July 6th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
"Is my hair okay?" Emily Wong asked, looking at her own face through the perspective of her camera drone with the help of augmented reality contact lenses.
"Oh, you're looking fine as always, Emily." Her fellow reporter, Khalisah al-Jilani, remarked softly. "But, uh, do be careful. We're about to land in what could potentially be an active warzone. Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face."
"If that happens, I'll be sure to ask you for some quick masking agent. After all, physical confrontations and fisticuffs are your area of expertise." Emily playfully bit back, causing the other woman's expression to sour slightly.
They weren't on bad terms by any means, it was more of a mild workplace rivalry. Emily could understand and even admire the lengths to which Khalisah would go to get behind the lies and double-speak of the politicians. But her methods in particular is what the two of them found the most disagreement on, and at times it looked like she traded journalistic integrity for sensationalism. Although that did not necessarily make her a bad reporter per se. After all it was the responsibility of the independent media to look at the hands of public figures and scrutinize them at every step of the way, and Khalisah had certainly done that and then some.
"Thirty seconds until landing. Please prepare your electronic identification and follow the instructions of our civilian and military personnel." An emotionless carvin voice rang over the intercom of the shuttle, and Emily quickly activated her omni-tool to make sure that her e-ID was ready to be checked.
The shuttle was occupied by almost a dozen journalists of varying species, from humans, through asari, salarians, turians, to even a singular volus. All of them were now headed down to the surface of a frontier carvin colony of Qreten. In a surprising show of good faith, Carvin Empire had allowed a small number of alien reporters from a select group of news outlets to come for a few days and make a report on the current civil and political crisis within its borders - a stark shift in approach towards alien visitors. Before this change of heart, carvins were wary or even outright hostile toward prospects of hosting aliens within their borders, even those who ironically enough ended up there due to the recent carvin raids and conquests.
Up until this point the reception was mostly acceptable, if a bit cold. It didn't take a wild guess to realize that carvins were suspicious of outsiders, but aside from a few isolated instances, they provided assistance whenever needed. However all those carvins were either military personnel or workers of the state administration (at least Emily suspected them to be), and weren't exactly keen to give extensive interviews. She and her colleagues were hoping to ask some questions to ordinary carvin civilians. Her only fear was that they would be dropped in a Potemkin town with everything elaborately staged to push a specific narrative.
Whether her worries would be proven correct or not was about to be determined, as the shuttle jolted slightly, indicating that they had indeed landed on the surface of the planet. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the bright morning sun of the planet and a cloudless sky. The gravity was slightly but still noticeably weaker than that of Earth or the all too familiar Citadel. At first glance Qreten looked like a peaceful garden world, but the façade quickly collapsed when one looked anywhere below the horizon.
The spaceport bore clear signs of combat, with pieces of molten metal walls and shards of broken glass windows littering the ground near one of the terminals. Some of the landing zones were strewn with rubble, which several carvin workers were now trying to clean up. Columns of smoke shot up into the sky behind the spaceport from what was likely the actual settlement.
"ID check!" Someone suddenly called out, grabbing their attention. Emily looked towards the source of the voice and saw a large group of soldiers or policemen walking towards them, led by an individual of clearly higher rank. "Prepare your drones for inspection!"
That last remark earned the officer several displeased looks by the journalists, but both they and Emily knew that this was unavoidable. Carvins warned them of this procedure beforehand and assured them that it was absolutely standard. So with a heavy heart the reporters assembled into two lines, the right one managed by the officer and the left by his second-in-command.
It went surprisingly smoothly - carvins asked for the e-ID, and after a brief questioning, they plugged a cable into the camera drone's socket, waited for results to appear on what was visibly a quite archaic datapad, before disconnecting and assigning the journalist to a pair of soldiers who would function as their escort. In less than half a minute, Emily was at the front of the rightmost queue, being inspected by the officer.
"Your e-ID." He requested and she silently complied. "Emily Wong, Future Content Corporation?"
"Correct." Emily replied, moving her camera drone closer so that it could be inspected.
"Heard there was a purge of potential Cerberus journalists." He commented, causing her shoulders to stiffen slightly. Of course it was their job to be informed who would enter their territory, but the fact that the officer knew of these developments immediately set off alarm bells inside her head. She really hoped that this particular scandal would not cause any trouble. Thankfully it seemed to be nothing more than a trivial remark, because a few seconds later he disconnected the cable and directed her to two tall soldiers. "Clear. Proceed to your escorts. Corporal Or'Zaal is over here, he will be your guide."
She gave him a thankful look and began walking to the designated spot when a loud beep came from the left queue. Against better judgement she stopped and looked behind to see a salarian journalist looking at the carvin who inspected him with surprise.
"What's wrong?" He asked with a hint of concern.
"Your drone has a highly sophisticated VI installed into it, far above what is normally acceptable. It could be potentially dangerous." The carvin replied.
"But that software is for real-time editing, translation and footage enhancement! Little more!" The salarian protested.
"There's currently a system-wide state of emergency in effect. We have our procedures." The junior officer explained. As the discussion was on the brink of blowing up into a full scale argument, their superior stepped in.
"Send the scan results up the chain. They can check if it's dangerous." He ordered.
The subordinate looked at him with an unsure expression. " Sir, that's against protocol. And we shouldn't bother the-"
"They can spare the processing power. No large pockets of resistance remain anyway." The officer sternly answered. "We're not as stingy as the Ravashir, and our primary orders are clear. I'll take the blame if need be, so get to it. We're already behind."
That was enough to spur the soldier on, and the mention of Ravashir seemed to have had a particularly strong effect. Emily was quite curious to see the results of that particular inspection, but the sound of large metallic feet stomping behind her convinced her that the time was up.
"We're moving out, miss Wong." She turned around to see her two carvin guards urging her to walk with them outside the spaceport and towards the smoke columns behind it.
"Very well, lead the way." She nodded and began to follow them, but then a question sprung up in her head. "Am I allow to ask the pedestrians and locals we encounter for an interview?"
"Yes. Within reason." There was a longer than usual silence before the leading soldier replied. "Keep in mind that most of our people are not outfitted with translators yet."
They walked through the entrance to the spaceport. What was probably a parking lot for ground-based vehicles and more bulky private shuttles (it seems that skycars were yet to be popularized on the carvin civilian market) was largely empty. The only vehicles that remained were military Armored Personnel Carriers and civilian cars scorched or damaged beyond repair. Emily stepped over a deformed piece of machinery soaked in some strange tar-like goo, only to realize that the contraption was a part of a cybernetic arm, and the dark blue tar was most likely blood mixed in with oil. A shiver ran down her spine. If this really was a Potemkin town, then the carvins were doing a damn good job making it look genuine. But it was in the settlement proper that the atmosphere became truly unpleasant.
The colony on Qreten seemed to have recently entered a more developed stage, since while the town was large and had an extensive number of various different facilities, prefabricated structures still mixed in with proper houses and buildings. Streets were wide and spacious to allow a passage of both civilian and military vehicles, but once again they were now mostly empty, with an odd patrol section here or there marching to a destination unknown.
Sidewalks were more lively, with soldiers, policemen and civilians intermixed. Security personnel questioned the pedestrians, ran inspections and gave directions. But upon seeing her approach, they all turned their sights towards her, giving her looks of suspicion, caution, and in the case of civilians even fear. Emily tried in vain to ask at least some of them for an interview, since most either scoured away or excused themselves after the first few words.
But after so many fruitless attempts, she spotted what could potentially be her jackpot - an engineer working on what looked like a large damaged fuse box. The carvin (still of undetermined gender) wore a hardhat and insulating gloves, which was probably a good idea when working around this type of machinery with cybernetic implants.
"Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?" Emily asked and her drone repeated the inquiry in carvin language. But the carvin did not react in the slightest. Their back was turned to her and their workflow remained uninterrupted. Having failed to elicit a response, she tried again, this time slightly louder. "Excuse me."
No reaction. Feeling defeated, Emily almost gave up in frustration, but then Corporal Or'Zaal, her security guard, unexpectedly came to her aid. He approached the worker from the rear, placed his hand on their shoulder, shook it firmly and called out "Citizen!"
Immediately the carvin twitched in surprise, turned around and stood at attention, taking off their hardhat as they did so. When they noticed her, their expression changed to that of surprise, although curiously there was no fear.
"Thank you very much." Emily lightly bowed her head at her helper in appreciation before turning towards the worker. "Good morning, my name is Emily Wong. I'm with the Future Content Corporation and was wondering if you could spare a moment for a short interview."
The carvin curiously looked at both her and the drone that was translating Emily's words in real time, then glanced at her two guards, as if looking for permission. Her escorts for their part did not react, and so the worker returned his eyes towards her, replying with a pretty hoarse voice "Alright. What do you want to know?"
Oh thank goodness. Emily let out a mental sigh of relief. She feared she'd spend most of her allocated time for today just looking for someone willing to be interviewed. "Well, for starters, what's your name and what do you do?"
"Zarrik. I'm an engineer in the Imperial Corps of Engineers." The worker answered.
"Alright mister... miss..." She started, but quickly realized that, given the extensive cultural differences, it was impossible to tell by name alone if the individual was male or female.
"Mister." Zarrik clarified, and Emily noticed just now that the carvin's jaws looked strangely tired and worn out. Like a sponge that had been used for too long.
"Mister Zarrik." She nodded in understanding and started recording. When one of the lamps on her drone started glowing red, she took a deep breath and spoke. "Due to the limited communication between the Carvin Empire and Citadel space, speculations and conspiracy theories surround the events transpiring right now within your space. I would like to address some of them." She looked at the carvin, who as of yet did not exhibit any signs of hostility. "Is it true that elements of internal security services have tried to stage a coup to overthrow the legitimate government?"
Zarrik eyed her up with an unreadable expression before replying plainly "They murdered the colonial governor and bombed the colonial administration seat here. That's about as close as you can get."
"And how big was public support for the rebels?" Emily asked, slightly taken aback by the casual language.
"Here on Qreten? Don't know. I was transferred here two days ago." The carvin shrugged. "Now things are mostly calm. Only isolated stragglers remain."
"You're not from Qreten?"
"No, our detachment was sent from the Varsaai Cluster to assist with clean-up and reconstruction." Zarrik answered.
Now this was something. If carvins were diverting relief forces from other parts of their space, then perhaps this rebellion was larger than some have anticipated. Alas, one anecdotal account, which was unfortunately quite vague in nature, did not prove anything. It did however provide her a base to work from further.
"Very well, another matter." Emily said, making a mental note of all the things she could deduce from Zarrik's statement. "What are your personal thoughts on the rebellion and its aims? Do you-"
"I'm vehemently and unequivocally against it." Zarrik didn't even let her or her drone finish, and his face shifted into a death stare. "No rebel should be left alive."
Whoa... alright then. She mused, having to consciously stop herself from taking a step back. "And what are the reasons for such strong emotions?"
"I'm nearing my 600th birthday, you hatchlings wouldn't understand it." The carvin's voice quietened, and he seemed to look at something far away in the distance. "I was born in Varsaai Cluster, I survived the horror of the Insurrection. I lived through the terror of the Ravashir that came after..." His eyes then turned back towards her. "And I'm telling you that the youngsters here in the Frontier aren't afraid enough. Had they or their parents lived through the Insurrection, they would have dragged every single rebel out into the street and beat them to death themselves."
Only now did Emily realize that shift in the tone of voice wasn't a sign of anger but of pain. His tired eyes, his worn out jaws, the signature lack of fear so prevalent among the other carvins, all suddenly made perfect sense. This was a venerable individual, slowly nearing the end of his life, who was clearly very deeply affected by the traumatic experiences of his past. Emily did read some bits and pieces about the 'Varsaai Insurrection' from what little historical data the carvins have decided to share, and it did not paint a pretty picture. Turian War of Unification was the closest comparison she could think of. If this man had lived through something like that, it was unsurprising that he would openly oppose any actions that threatened to bring about a similar state of affairs. That and why he wasn't so intimidated by her like most civilians.
"Thank you very much for your insight. I am certain it will help those living in Citadel space understand the underrepresented carvin perspective on this matter." Emily gave her interviewee a grateful look. "Now regarding other matters..."
Frontier Sector, Qreten
Iridian Valley Settlement, Victory Avenue
0932 Local Time, July 6th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
No one. Not a single carvin civilian had decided give Khalisah a longer interview. Most cautiously walked away when they saw her approaching, refused an interview outright when asked, or excused themselves shortly after she started talking. This was quite embarrassing, since, according to her VI assistant, other reporters weren't having as much issue as she had. The carvin government also made it abundantly clear that the time window for the alien press to investigate the ongoing crisis was not infinite. If other media agencies managed to get more or better material quicker, then they would be the ones to cash in on that big scoop. Which is why she had to get some results fast.
Both of her guards remained silent throughout her struggles, though Khalisah could certainly imagine them mocking her in their minds. She was not intent on interviewing neither military personnel nor public officials first due to their connections with the carvin state apparatus. Her primary target were ordinary civilians, but they in turn were clearly not interested in assisting her with the task. A cynical part of her mind told her that this was all just a setup by the carvins, though aside from the barely talkative civilians there was little else that indicated it to be the case.
Like others, she was stunned to learn that the carvins would split the journalists up and disperse them across the settlement to not spook the civilians and to avoid making a large target for potential terror attacks. Now though, having seen just how reluctant the populace was to engage with them, she began to see the merit of their decision. If one alien journalist was enough to cause such a reaction, then a group would certainly find itself struggling to catch even a single interviewee.
With her determination shaken but still unbroken, Khalisah turned away from the carvin civilians scouring away from her sight. Then a curious sound reached her ears, something akin to an old-fashioned bell, only artificial. She turned towards the source of the sound which came somewhere from a large building in the distance, located on the opposite side of the street. It was an imposing structure curiously made of mostly marble or some other kind of stone, with very little metal thrown into the mix, a stark contrast to the other buildings making up the town. There was a sizeable area of mostly open ground in front of the entrance, with various bits and pieces of strange equipment laying about. At the gate stood two policemen who scanned their surroundings in search for any potential disturbance.
Only when the doors opened and a group of carvins in civilian clothing came through, far smaller than those she was accustomed to seeing usually, did Khalisah realize that she was looking at a school. Or the closest carvin equivalent. The tallest of children were big enough to reach her shoulders, and some of them wouldn't be tall enough to reach her chest. They kept chirping and rattling about in that peculiar insectoid manner, practically exclusive to the carvins. To her surprise she also noticed that the smaller children did not have the signature cybernetic implants that their taller friends shared with carvin adults.
Curious... so they implant their children at a specific age. She thought, observing the scene.
A small group detached from the main collective and made their way to a small square area separated by two rows of rubber string - a fighting ring? Two members of the group jumped inside and picked up what looked to be boxing gloves from the ground, while the rest chirped and screeched in encouragement. It was apparent that a fight was at hand.
Slowly, so as to not disturb the young carvins, Khalisah walked towards the front gate. The two policemen did not move, simply looking at her as she approached. Only when she was just a few steps from the gate did the raise their hands, blocking her way.
"This is a restricted area." One of the policemen stated.
Shockingly it was one of her escorts that came to her aid. He clicked something on his arm and said "She has clearance. We're going in with her."
The policeman looked at the guard, then at her. His right eye began to glow, as an integrated lens system came to life. After a moment he relented, stepping aside and opening the gate. "Checks out. But be mindful of the place. This is a school, and it only reopened yesterday."
"I'm a journalist, not a barbarian." She scoffed, offended by the implications of his words. Neither the policemen nor her guards seemed fully convinced, but the former relented and stepped aside, opening the gate for her and her companions who slowly walked through it so as to not spook the children.
Khalisah marveled at the sight before her, as she stepped onto the school grounds. Carvin children, both implanted and not, were running around, playing various little games or looking into some thin electronic devices, not too dissimilar from the old fashioned human tablets or smartphones of the 21st century. A group of kids were playing with a ball, bouncing it around between each other with their tails while having their spikes hidden. For a moment she could almost picture this being a human school for human children. Well... a very strange human school for very special children.
Among the different groups of kids was one that immediately caught her eye once she noticed them. One of the younger carvins, who wore much more refined clothes than their peers, was surrounded by a sizeable number of other children. The rich kid of the school no doubt. Their admirers were all focused on a characteristic orange glow that emanated from the rich carvin's left arm. An unmistakable holographic projection of an omni-tool.
They're fascinated by it. Guess our own technology is truly a rarity in these parts. Khalisah mused, observing as the kids excitedly looked at a holographic screen that just appeared on the upper part of the omni-tool. She walked carefully, using taller bushes and trees as cover and making sure to not project her presence too ostensibly.
Then loud chirps and cheers erupted from the makeshift boxing ring, as an older carvin child, most likely the victor of the fight, jumped out, triumphantly waving its boxing gloves in the air. It left the gloves on the ground and began walking towards the omni-tool group, receiving pats on the back from its friends on the way. The group noticed the new arrival and welcomed it, engaging in a very excited conversation.
Now is my chance. Khalisah thought, trying to slowly approach the group while it was preoccupied with the conversation. After she got a bit closer, her translator began to pick up the meaning behind the words spoken by the kids.
"-was no question. I had his scrawny tail right where I wanted from the start." The victor of the spontaneous boxing match said.
"Mhmm, admit it. Rivix gave you a better run for your money than anyone else." The omni-tool owner answered before returning to the image displayed on the device. "Bet there's many people in our year that could beat you up easily. They just have better things to do, you muscle-brained..." The last word remained unclear for a moment, as her translator struggled to find an appropriate human equivalent. After a moment it became 'tomboy'.
The girl (presumably, given the epithet given to her) was not fazed by the comment and approached closer. "What's that?"
"They call it an 'omni-tool' in alien space. My dad managed to get it for me for acing the test from pre-imperial history." Her rich interlocutor replied. "They have loads of functions and are very convenient, much more than any of our stuff. I'm still figuring out what it can do, but apparently out there everyone uses them."
"Does your dad also know how you just barely passed the most recent physical?" The girl asked smugly and turned to the rest of the kids. "You guys know that if Mavir's old man knew that, he'd dock his pocket money and kick his ass, right?"
"Sod off, Zia. He doesn't need to know. I'll do better on the next one." The boy scoffed amid laughs from his companions, rattling his jaws at 'Zia' who reciprocated the clearly insulting gesture.
Khalisah was just a dozen meters away from the group when one of the kids suddenly snapped their head to where she was standing. Its eyes widened in surprise and it nudged the other kids with its arm, prompting them too to turn their eyes towards her.
"Mavir. Mavir you idiot! Look!" One of them smacked the omni-tool owner in the head, pointing their finger at her.
A general unease spread through the group. Some of the carvins were already backing away in fear. There was no subtlety in their expressions. Unlike the adults, none of them were hiding their fear. But the question was - why? Why was everyone so scared of her?
"Hey, what's going on, guys?" Zia asked, confused by their reaction. Khalisah was approaching her from the rear, so the young girl couldn't have seen her.
But it seems that she heard steps from behind, either made by Khalisah herself or her guards. The girl's jaws perked up into the air and she turned around, almost whacking Khalisah in the stomach with her tail by accident. And the same reaction - surprise, shock, fear, in that order. Yet the girl did not step back, instead remaining frozen in place, as if petrified.
"Hello. My name is Khalisah al-Jilani. I'm a news reporter from the Citadel." Khalisah started, deciding to commit. She stepped closer, careful to not make any sudden moves. "I've seen that you're quite a fighter."
This was an important part of interviewing a child - to connect oneself with them and try to convince them that you can be trusted. That was the tactic for human children at least. Some of the tricks were universal across all races, but being faced with a massive unknown that was the carvin psychology, Khalisah wondered if perhaps it was a good idea to utilize the same methods on a race so alien and different from her own.
Zia looked at her, then at her drone which repeated her words in the carvin language. Behind the girl were the other kids, keeping a significant distance from the two of them, though still close enough that their whispers were more or less audible from where she was standing.
"Zia, are you crazy!? What are you standing there for!?" The rich kid, Mavir, whispered with a panicked voice.
"You're mental! Mental!" Another one added.
Zia did not dare to look back, but her eyes darted between the human before her and the two carvin guards standing few steps behind. She was silently pleading for some sort of help, yet none seemed to arrive.
"I... I'm not scared of you, alien!" The girl finally answered, her fists clenched tight. "N-not of you, and not of... the Ravashir!"
Khalisah looked at her young interviewee and immediately noticed that she was lying. Her jaws were twitching erratically, her pose was clearly belligerent, one foot placed forward of the other. The tail protruding from the lower part of her body stood upright, with the saw blade at the tip spinning ever so slightly. Despite her head only reaching Khalisah's collar bone, Zia was more than capable of ending her life in mere seconds. And yet the child was staring at her as if she was a thresher maw.
"Oh I'm certain you're not. But your friends back there seem to be. I was wondering why that is. Why is everyone scared of me?" Khalisah tried a different approach. "I don't have sharp teeth or a spiky tail like you."
"...I-I don't talk about secrets of my friends. A-and I don't know you at all. You're a-an alien." The girl tried to get the words through her trembling jaws. "T-this is the basics of s-stranger danger."
Hearing that, Khalisah had to stop herself from bursting into laughter, but a small chuckle still escaped her mouth. The girl was so adorable in her fear. Her reasoning was also the most rational out of all the nothing she received previously, so that was something too.
But in the corner of her eye Khalisah saw her two guards whispering to one another, with one of them holding their fingers on their earpiece. They weren't looking at her at all, and after the brief exchange was over, one of the troopers stepped away and began walking back towards the main gate.
"Is something the matter?" She asked, turning her head towards the guards.
"Police at the main gate asked for help with an inspection." The soldier replied as his partner walked away. "It won't be long and I am still here."
Khalisah had no idea if this signaled trouble or not. To be fair to the carvins, there was still a state of emergency in effect and she saw the dozens of troops and policemen patrolling the streets during her vain attempts to interview someone. But the fact that an escort of what was essentially an alien VIP had to be diverted even to such a small distance did not fill her with confidence.
Still she turned back towards the petrified carvin girl and continued with her questions, her camera drone translating the inquiry as before. "You said you're not scared of the Ravashir. Why would someone be scared of them?"
At the mere mention of the name a minuscule shudder ran down Zia's back. Her friends behind her were also visibly unnerved. Whatever it was, Khalisah was visibly onto something. The guard behind her observed the situation, awaiting both her reaction and that of the young carvin.
"I-It's all because of them." Zia answered after a brief moment of silence. She did not stutter as much this time. "T-They're the reason why there's soldiers in the street. Why there's shooting. A-And why mom and dad can't go home, why I have to take care of my little brother by myself."
Khalisah felt a chill in her neck. She never had a problem putting rich magnates or stuffy politicians on the spot and out of their comfort zone. That was her job and duty as a journalist. But the person before her was neither - it was a child, who knows how old, speaking with heart-wrenching pain and sadness. And who was caught in the middle of this conflict against her will. The words she said weren't unambiguous, though it could simply be an issue with translation. Did her parents...
"What di-" Khalisah started, but quickly corrected herself, realizing what she was just about to say. "...do your parents do?"
"Mom is... a mechdoc. She installs and fixes implants." Zia replied, this time more clearly and confidently. "And dad... he's out there, on the-"
Before she could finish, a sound of screeching and screaming came from the main gate. Everyone, including Khalisah, immediately shifted their gaze towards the source of the noise. Her guard instinctively moved between her and the gate with his weapon raised. From where they were standing it was impossible to truly discern what was going on, as the bushes and plants partially obscured the vision. Khalisah could only see the snippets of several carvins wrestling violently. Shortly afterwards two shots were fired, emitting a characteristic *bzzew* sound, and the noise died down slightly.
But then the screams intensified once again and a single phrase echoed through the air.
"FOR THE EMPIRE!"
In an instant the whole front gate was engulfed in a bright ball of fire and plasma, sending a wave of dust and smoke outwards. Shouts and screams of children followed, and all of them went to the ground, trying their best to expose themselves as little as possible. Just in time too because, even before dust settled, laser fire erupted from across the street. Tiny beams of light buzzed to and fro and the whole area suddenly became a battleground.
"Inside the building, now!" Khalisah's guard roared, pointing his hand towards the massive metal doors leading into the school.
Groups of panicked kids got off the ground and darted towards the immediate safety. Khalisah too was not keen on sticking around and followed the young carvins as quickly as she could in the heels she was wearing at the moment, all the while her guard stood right behind her, blocking the incoming shots with his body.
They barged into the entrance hall of the school, a relatively exquisite room for its simplicity. But none of its present occupants could truly appreciate its design because they were all gripped by panic. Students ran into the deeper parts of the building or huddled behind columns and below the windows so as to not be exposed to the chaos going on outside.
"What's going on!?" A taller carvin wearing civilian clothing entered the room, pushing through the fleeing students towards Khalisah and her guard.
"Suicide bomber! The rebels were waiting for us!" The soldier shouted back, carefully peaking out of the window to see what was going on. Barely a second later a laser bolt struck mere inches away from the glass. "Get the children back into their classrooms or into the lower levels! And have them stay down!"
Another explosion erupted outside as the children filtered through the corridors. Several more teachers arrived on the scene, directing their pupils to their respective classrooms. Khalisah watched the scene play out, unable to focus in the chaos and constant chatter. Her translator was having trouble keeping up with all the words and sentences now ringing in her ears, spoken in a language that she couldn't understand. And yet her eyes locked with one of the children, who was being pulled away by a teacher deeper into the building. The kid looked at her in a mix of fear and... anger?
"This is all your fault! You brought them here! It's all because of you!" It shouted at her, its eyes furious, accusatory. Then one of the teachers pushed the child deeper into the school's walls along with other students, never to be seen again.
Khalisah's breath was rapid and heavy. She could hear her own heart hammering inside. The entire thing was like a ghostly manifestation, and she wasn't even sure if it was real. Was this why everyone was so terrified? Was she the harbinger of a renewed bloodshed? Was that why everyone turned away from her, cowering away in fear? Were they not really afraid of her but of the rebels that would follow?
Whatever the true reason was, it was hardly important in this situation. Right now she just hoped that the carvins would send help.
Frontier Sector, Qreten
Iridian Valley Settlement, Maconivix's Street
0941 Local Time, July 6th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
When the sound of an explosion reached the area where they were in, Emily had honestly expected the carvins to erupt into panic. She was only half right. There was a general sense of unease, but that feeling may have been caused more by the reaction of the uniformed servicemen that were prevalent in the streets. They immediately forced all pedestrians off the road and onto the sidewalks, making space for soldiers who were heading towards the source of the explosion. Some policemen even urged the civilians to return to their homes for their safety, and after the sounds of a firefight also became audible, Emily couldn't really blame them for doing so.
The comm chatter among the soldiers and policemen intensified to the point that she could roughly understand what was happening.
"-suicide bomber on Victory Avenue-"
"-disguised as civilians have opened fire-"
"Engage targets in-"
"-exterminate with extreme prejudice."
"-callsigns be advised, there's an alien VIP in School 17. Move in to secure-"
Emily's brain struggled to process all the information provided by her translator, but the general picture was clear as day. A terror attack took place not far from here and the carvin authorities were hellbent on crushing it swiftly and ruthlessly. But what caught her attention was the mention of an alien 'VIP' holed up in a school. Surely it must have been one of the journalists.
Her guards for their part were uneasy, especially the senior corporal who was supposed to be her guide. They were both engaged in a quiet but intense discussion, whispering to each other in a dialect not recognized by her translator. Bits and pieces of words made it through, though not enough to understand anything. But one word stood out among the others - 'daughter'.
"This doesn't matter. We have our orders. Snap out of it." The second guard finally swapped to an understandable dialect.
Feigning ignorance, Emily decided to join in and ask "What's going on? What happened?"
"A rebel attack. One of them blew themselves up at the gateway to a school." Corporal Or'Zaal answered. His gaze was directed somewhere else and he did not even bother looking her in the eye.
"They would attack a school!?" Emily kept on going with the act, although this time her shock was more genuine.
"They're terrorists, what do you expect?" Her second guard shrugged dismissively. "Military and police forces are moving in to respond. They'll clean it up in no time."
He spoke decisively and sternly, visibly trying to discourage her from prying further. But despite not being a dedicated war correspondent, Emily felt compelled to report on the fighting. If the carvins had something to hide, her journalistic integrity demanded it to be brought to light. That and reporting on the combat was far more promising than begging the already frightened carvin civilians for an interview.
"If they're targeting civilian areas like that then surely it would be beneficial for the galaxy to see it." She pointed out, earning a glare of disapproval from the guard. "Your people need all the good press they can get, and having the viewers see you fight against such dangerous individuals will surely win some favors."
The two carvins glanced at each other, the higher-ranking corporal still uncertain, while his subordinate seemingly begged him to not to agree. But in spite of his comrade's silent protest, Corporal Or'Zaal looked her in the eye.
"Is this your final decision?" He asked emotionlessly.
"Yes." She answered with as much confidence as she could muster in the face of three insectoid jaws just a few inches from her face.
"Then it is set." He pulled away and, despite the visible displeasure of his colleague, his expression softened. "Remember, you stay in cover, do not expose yourself and do not get in the way of the troops."
With that they began their march through the damaged streets filled with soldiers. They stayed on the side of the road for most of the time in order to make way for the troops moving towards the combat area at greater speeds.
Her carvin escorts quickened their pace much earlier than Emily had anticipated and her shoes weren't exactly made for running. Before long she found her feet pulsating with pain but it would probably have been quite embarrassing to admit to this just moments after she had committed to the journey. Thankfully the sound of the firefight was intensifying rapidly, suggesting that they were getting close. They followed a military vehicle, not big enough to be a tank, but armed with a powerful autocannon on its roof. In front of it was a screen of soldiers and policemen.
The vehicle turned left at the intersection and aimed its cannon at something outside of view. Emily couldn't see exactly what it was aiming at, but the shouts of soldiers and the cacophony of laser fire coming from that direction were good indications.
"Blasted scum! They must be right outside of the school grounds!" Corporal Or'Zaal muttered a curse. He then raised his rifle and moved around the corner, staying close to the wall. Emily promptly followed in his footsteps and was immediately met with a grim sight.
Just about a hundred meters away from her a large group of soldiers and policemen advanced towards a large imposing building in the distance, most likely the school mentioned in the radio traffic. Right outside of its grounds and behind a primitive barricade huddled carvin silhouettes, moving around and firing their weapons at the advancing troops. Nearly a dozen bodies were lying in the open street, some largely intact while others in pieces, smoldering from the fire and plasma that adorned the no-man's land in between the opposing forces.
To her surprise Emily also noticed laser traces coming not just from the direction of the barricade, but from behind of it - from the school itself. She zoomed in on the building with her camera drone and saw several individuals armed with pistols and short rifles peaking out of the windows and taking pot shots at the surrounded rebels. Some were not even wearing armor or police uniforms and may have been anyone from janitors to teachers. It seemed that everyone who could hold a weapon was gathered to the defense of the school.
Then the autocannon of the vehicle that she and her guards followed opened fire, shredding through the makeshift cover that the rebels were hiding behind. Shrieks and screams filled the air, followed by cheers from the advancing soldiers. Emboldened by their newly arrived fire support they charged the destroyed barricades, throwing grenades as they ran. A fresh wave of explosions erupted just outside of the school grounds as the colonial troops stormed the rebel positions.
The vicious close combat melee lasted merely a moment, and most of the positions were taken within the first seconds of combat. The noise of battle began to die down as quickly as it came to be. It looked like in that quick attack the enemy was defeated.
Emily slowly began approaching the site of battle, still screened and covered by the bodies of her two guards. She expected to see the soldiers and policemen dragging the remaining rebels out in cuffs or under guard. As such her shock and horror was indescribable when she saw that the carvins intended to do nothing of the sort. They walked up to every body, regardless if it was moving or not, and fired several shots at the head. When they came across a particularly lively individual, they did not spare the ammunition and fired until it did not move anymore.
A stench of blood and burning flesh filled the air. Emily covered her nose to escape the smell, gazing upon the death and destruction that she had just witnessed. Whatever she was expecting to find when she landed on this planet, it for sure was not this.
Frontier Sector, Qreten
Iridian Valley Settlement, Victory Avenue, School nr 17
1002 Local Time, July 6th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
Among the smoldering ashes and rapidly cooling plasma the officers of the local police department and the soldiers of the Qreten garrison intermingled, setting up roadblocks, directing vehicle and pedestrian traffic through the partially obstructed avenue. The media, both local and alien swarmed the scene with their cameras and microphones, absorbing everything there was to see in perfect detail.
Some civvies have dragged a man out of one of the nearby buildings and gave him up to the authorities, badly beaten and bruised. Apparently he was spotting for the rebels. The police questioned him briefly, and when he confessed, a firing squad dispatched him with a single salvo. Quick, efficient, and relatively painless, unlike the Ravashir, who usually spent a lot more time administering the punishment. The aliens however were not as thrilled, visibly shaken after witnessing how justice was administered.
Corporal Arill Or'Zaal observed their reactions with curiosity. Most of the troops were relegated to the clean-up duties, handling the restless civilians in the area, or checking up on the school itself. He was the 'lucky' one that still had to babysit his alien VIP, Emily Wong. Today was his first time seeing an alien up close and was continuously surprised just how pronounced her emotional responses were. His own people looked almost completely the same, differentiated only by the smell, clothing, or more commonly through subtle differences in body language. From where he was standing there was nothing subtle about the human female's actions.
Still, the thoughts of the alien visitors were not really high up on his list of priorities. His job was to protect them, regardless of how they felt about it. Thankfully Emily Wong for her part was mostly cooperative, if a bit slow at times due to the heels on her shoes. She looked at the scorched surroundings with a mix of horror and another feeling that Arill couldn't discern. But the distraught expression shifted when yet another human revealed themselves through the smoke and dust, coming from the direction of the school.
"Khalisah!" She called out.
The other woman's head turned towards them, and with her hand covering her mouth walked out of the smoke. "Emily? What a *cough* pleasant surprise to see a familiar face."
Her clothes were wrinkly and covered in dust, but other than that she and her drone appeared to be mostly unharmed. Good, one less thing to write an after-action report about.
"Are you alright? What the hell happened there?" Emily asked, trying to wipe some of the dust off her colleague's clothes.
"I... I'm not sure. I came here to potentially interview some kids, or at the very least the school staff. Then the gate exploded and..." The woman was clearly struggling to put her experiences into words. "...and when the shooting started we ran inside the building. I don't remember much besides that."
Arill recognized this experience. He had seen it before in fresh conscripts or civilian militiamen who fought beside regular army troops during this uprising. The first time in combat was almost always intense, especially for inexperienced or untrained troops. How a similar event would have impacted a civilian was not hard to imagine.
"Well, I'm just glad you're alright." Emily said, then turned towards Arill with a frustrated face and asked "What were they thinking, putting combatants inside a school? There were children inside!"
He looked at her, only now recognizing the accusatory nature of her expression, although that just raised more questions than it provided answers.
"Are you blaming me for that decision?" He asked, trying to sound as calm as he could, but the accusation still left him annoyed. "Or are you just venting out your emotions? Because either way I'm hardly the right target."
His 'calm tone' must have turned out to be much harsher than he intended it to be, because the frustration on Emily Wong's face quickly gave way to perplexment.
"N-No, that's not what I-" She started, but Arill wasn't done.
"Or perhaps you believe that defending our children, our future, from this chaos is irresponsible? After they had already launched the attack at the very gates to this school?" He continued, giving way to frustration that was building up inside of him through these long and hectic days of fighting. "You are here barely one morning and yet you feel well within your right to pass judgement upon us. The arrogance is truly remarkable."
He was about to continue but noticed that the human's expression was slowly turning to that of fear. Mentally cursing his own nerves, he restrained his next incoming outburst. The platoon commander will have his head for this, but what was done was done. He would take responsibility.
"I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have been so presumptuous." Emily Wong answered, visibly hesitating with her words. "It's just that... I've never seen something like this up close. I was even away from Citadel when the geth attacked. All of this is just a bit much."
Arill's temper slowly cooled down. He wanted to reply and apologize himself, but a voice all too familiar stopped him before he could utter a single word.
"Dad!?"
His hearts skipped a beat in perfect unison, contracting so abruptly that it hurt. Both he and the two human women turned their gaze towards the school building. Through the smoke a small carvin silhouette could be barely seen. When the child moved close enough for its features to become recognizable, a feeling of relief washed over him. The smell, the implants, the always unruly and wrinkled uniform that he and his wife were ironing all too often. It was his daughter Zia in the flesh.
She ran closer and halted for a split second, confirming that it was truly him, before throwing herself at him. Before long her small arms were wrapped around his torso as she hugged him tightly.
Arill hesitated. He was still technically on duty, and fraternizing with civilians was highly discouraged, with some individual units even banning such interactions entirely. But seeing his daughter embracing him so passionately, feeling both her sadness and relief as they shared a moment together for the first time since he was called up during this rebellion, he allowed himself the smallest gesture, placing his hand upon her head and rubbing it affectionately. Other soldiers probably looked at him disapprovingly but for this brief moment he rid himself of the feeling of duty and responsibility to them. This was his daughter.
"Huh... so this is your father." The other woman, Khalisah was her name, remarked.
Any other time Arill would have been wary or even angry at an alien trying to mess with his daughter, but now the thought passed by him like the wind. She was safe and he was there for her. No rebel, no Ravashir officer, no alien would snatch her away from him now.
Their happy moment was interrupted by yet another figure coming from the direction of the school. This one was taller and more imposing, though it wore no armor and bore no visible arms. It took him barely a second to recognize the individual as one of the teachers.
"Zia, for the love of the Stars! There's still troops outside, you of all people should know not to disturb-" The man growled, visibly agitated, but his anger vanished when his eyes met Arill's. "...oh. Mister Or'Zaal. I... I did not you were visiting."
The two human women chuckled at the scene and Arill himself also smiled, all the while Zia was still clinging onto him in that pure childish manner that made it so pure and adorable. Anyone with two braincells to rub together could see that it was unwise to get in between the two of them, so the educator likely saw it too.
"That's because I am not." Arill said, trying to contain the smile on his face. "I was just in the area."
"I see..." The teacher nodded, not really sure how to resolve the situation. "Well, there will understandably be a question whether we will resume lessons today or not. Until that happens she may remain with you, as long as she doesn't leave the school grounds."
With that he left, leaving Arill, his daughter, and the two aliens alone. Arill gazed back at the destruction outside of the main school gate and immersed himself in a deep thought, all the while still scratching the base of Zia's neck just the way she liked. It was undeniable that their colony, their community had suffered because of this uprising. Homes were destroyed, people died, families and loved ones were torn apart. But they survived. They weathered the storm. These were likely the last remnants of rebel forces, lashing out in their eleventh hour.
Soon he, the love of his life, and their two children will all be together again, dining in the evening like they did hundreds of times before. And no rebel will get in their way.
A/N: Just in case people don't see the connection through the naming conventions and the not-so-subtle messaging in the previous chapter, yes Arill is the brother of Irill, the leader of the Null Group. We'll hear about them soon, though we'll make a brief stop on the Normandy first and check on Virox. Once again sorry for the delay, I hope that the next chapter won't take so long. Cheers!