I finally got my own room!
It was small, cramped, but it was perfect! My own bed, with my own desk, no more communal bunking for me. Everything else was communal still, but progress! Good thing too, since I was now in that awkward period of life, I thought I would never have to live through again: puberty.
Or in more plain speech: drowning in a sea of hormones.
I won't deny I have spent more than one evening to myself…. exploring all the new sensations this body can provide. But I am sort of dealing with an issue in that regard.
My human-ness and my asari-ness are in a bit of conflict with one another.
In other words: human software, asari hardware.
It's mostly the 'aliness' of this body then a generic 'male to female' sort of thing. I mean, technically asari are monogendered so it's hardly a gender thing. Sure, they (we/me) have tits and all the right 'plumbing' down stairs in the same vein of a human female, but it's all the other little things that make things weird. Skin tone, texture, taste buds, hearing, sight, everything. It's just the…alieness of it all. Play hell with how I remember my 'human' self felt and saw stuff.
A strange thing to say in some regard, since by now I've lived longer as an asari than I ever did as a human but the sentiment remains.
And that's before puberty started in earnest.
Ugh, I can barely deal with my changing body let alone a bunch of essentially teenagers (40-50 year olds) going through the motions.
Dating, hand holding, and all that 'other' stuff that comes after.
Why, even I was 'invited' to such an occasion. Never thought I was that popular.
I turned it down of course, since I have more important things to do than socialize in those sorts of circles.
…
Nervousness?
Hah!
Yeah right.
Me? Nervous?
I'm probably more mentally mature then everyone here. I used to be an adult human after all!
I just…don't feel like doing that sort of stuff at the moment.
While I fully intend to put this body through its paces eventually, that time is still some ways off.
…
Very far off.
…
Look asari live for centuries, assuming my plans work like I want them to, I will have centuries to do that stuff.
…
I don't need to explain myself to anyone!
"It's the hanar," I declared, certain in my own infallible words.
"Too obvious," Lynyxa mused, flicking the screen back to the prompt in question. "Saying it's the hanar is just racial profiling."
"That's because the double bluff," I proudly state, almost wishing I could pull up some sort of chart and gesture to it wildly. "They want us to think it's just us being racist against hanar for thinking they're the religious nut, when in reality the question is playing on us not wanting to be seen as racist to keep us from objectively looking at it!"
I can't actually remember how me and Lynxya first met. For the life of me it feels like one day she just decided to sit next to me in the mess hall and it just went on from there. Follow that up with her transferring over to my 'training squad' and she quickly became my Number two! Someone I could always rely on to get the tech stuff done, and to not just blindly charge into something without thinking it through.
She was a little quiet, but I think I talked enough for the two of us! I did try and bring her into the conversations, worried I was just talking without letting her get a word in edgewise, but she usually just says she was a better listener then she was a conversationalist.
What little she did tell me was that her family was 'old money' in Nos Astra, her grandmother being one of the first billionaires on Illium carried a lot of weight. Had a large family, lots of cousins and aunts, and she admitted she was going the commando route to get away from her family to an extent. Not that she wanted to leave them, just that she didn't want to be some business woman going through the motions.
In short, maiden tendencies are so common in our age bracket.
She also helped me get through the Academy's firewalls to play Galaxy of Fantasy! So that was a solid boon in my book!
At the moment though, the two of us were in the middle of a small group assignment. A simulation of sorts, where each group is meant to determine who a potential religious terrorist might be and are given only five pamphlets of their rantings to go off of.
Most people seemed to be twisting themselves into knots trying to figure it out.
To me, it seemed as clear as day: it was jelly fish!
"A double bluff?" she sighed, looking around to the other groups who were giving us (me) looks for my very loud declaration. "Isn't that over-examining it a little too much?"
"Not it completely makes sense, just read…uh," I scrolled through to the line that sold this theory to me. I'd had an inkling it was the hanar, but I almost fell into the same trap as Lynyxa. Until I read this one line. "Here, read this."
She gave me a look, before looking down, "'…and this is a duty I have taken upon myself, for I shall be the one to lead the faithful to salvation; not by the sword, but by the book. We shall spread the word of the Enkindelers and rejoice in their choir of approval'. Sure, he sounds crazy, but it's pretty benign stuff compared to the batarian's fire and brimstone speech."
"Fire and brimstone are normal batarian stuff," I counter, remembering all the doomsday preachers I've walked past back home. Self-proclaimed prophets one and all, standing atop their mighty piles of scrap metal, and basically screaming the end is nigh at the top of their lungs, only differing in why the end is coming. Slaves, aliens, the Council, the sinful, take your pick.
Most got the same treatment, a rough kick to the side if they were lucky, a bullet if not.
Still, I could see my logic wasn't resonating with her, so I tried a new approach.
"Look," I pointed to the line again, "See how the hanar preacher addresses his followers."
"You mean like a preacher?"
"No," I tap my finger on the pad, "not what he says, how he says it. Look, he addresses himself in the first person and not the third person like most hanar."
"So, he's bad at hanar grammar."
"No," guess I had to explain this bit as well, "I mean the only kind hanar that speak in the first person to others outside of close friends or relatives are almost always, without fail, egotistical. And what better profile for an egotist than a religious extremist?"
Finally, I saw her cracking to my logic and reason, "…I mean, when you put it like that."
Later when we all turned in our papers, it turned out I was right. The hanar was actually the cult leader. Like Lynyxa, most of the class chose the batarian, a few chose the asari, and only we and another group picked the hanar; said group had a girl who's dad was a hanar so there's that.
While the teacher basically explained the exact same thing, I had told Lynyxa, about not letting desires to seem politically correct blind objective observations, she did give me the stink eye for the rest of the lesson. Probably because I blurted out all the stuff she's talking about in my explanation to Lynxya and she thinks I upstaged her.
Or maybe it was because she caught me playing Galaxy of Fantasy again in class.
One of the two.
Sadly, for all the ups in my new life, if there seemed to be one universal concept common to all realities it was the bullies.
They cornered Kyra by the lockers after physical training.
With her body still sore and exhausted, she could hardly put up an effective struggle when she was jumped. She held off the first two with little issue, but the third one from behind surprised her. Pulling Bravilius into a choke hold she couldn't wriggle out of. The other two then took their time beating into the flailing girl.
Eventually, the beating stopped, and Kyra was left sore, bruised, and still held at the three's mercy.
"You're a cunt, you know that Bravilius?" the lead girl sneered at Kyra, the third girl nodding off to the side.
She only vaguely remembered who these three even were.
What she could recall was that each was a waste of space. Always hemming and hawing about how hard training was. The running was too exhausting, the weights too heavy, the food too bland. Kyra had little sympathy for people who didn't know their own limits and tried to blame their own failings on others.
How they even remained in the program up to this point was a mystery to her.
"I guess you would know a thing or two about that," Kyra tried her best to show she wasn't afraid of them, regardless of her position.
"Fuck you!" The blow to her gut was swift, knocking all the air out of her lungs. "You're just some uptight bitch who thinks she's better than everyone!"
"Maybe it's because I am," truthfully, she didn't see herself like that. Her own failings and shortcomings were blindingly apparent to her from a cursory glance. Meaning they were even more apparent to everyone else. Still, her worst was leagues better than these girls 'best'.
Not that the thought softened the subsequent blow to her gut.
"That damn attitude ruined my grade point average, you know!" another blow swiftly followed. "Thanks to you, I have to take remedial courses to get it back up!"
"Such a shame," Kyra managed to get out between coughs.
The next strike was a kick to her knee from behind, causing Kyra to slip further into the choke hold.
"Well, maybe there is something you could give us," the girl looked up and down her body as Kyra managed to get back to her feet. Fiddling with her omni-tool, a holographic drone phased into existence. "I think a few tasteful scars and a wonderful little vid of it is a good start, don't you think?"
"Really? That's your big plan?" Were these girls stupid? Did they really think she wasn't going to report this the moment they walked out. Even if they took the next step and killed her to keep it quiet, that would just raise further questions. "Do you really think I'm not going to beat the living shit out of you all and report this the moment you let me go?"
"Oh, trust me," the girl grinned, gripping Kyra's throat. "By the time we're done, you'll-"
"You know there are extranet sites that make people pay to watch stuff like this."
Another girl wandered into the locker room. Even without being able to see her given the poor angle she was at, Kyra knew who it was by her voice alone.
Aleena Vesta.
"What the hell!" The bitch holding her turned to see the girl, giving Kyra a clear line of sight as well. Vesta stood across from them, seemingly absent mindedly rummaging through her locker for a spare shirt not drenched in sweat. Yet despite the appearance of ease, she could see Vesta's muscles tensed and ready.
"It's almost a cliché trope by now," Vesta continued, "a bunch of young commandos hate someone, so they do some hazing, beating, things, to them. I think there were like ten movies that came out this year with this exact sort of scene playing out."
"Fuck off Vesta!" Kyra's captor pointed to the exit. "This doesn't concern you. So how about you just walk on out of here and we'll forget this ever happened."
"But in those cases, it's all just good fun," Vesta ignored the threat, changing her shirt. "I mean, as fun as acting can be, with all the studio stuff involved with it, but ehhh."
"I said fuck off!" Despite her tone, she was the one who took a step back. At this distance, it wouldn't take much for Vesta to just 'reach' over and beat the trio senseless.
"But you, and your friends?" the girl continued, finally looking at the trio holding Kyra. "You guys are about to commit a crime. Real welts, real scars, real damage, that's not a good look for anyone."
"Do you even know who you're trying to help," the girl tried to deflect Vesta's accusation, pointing at Bravilius. "She's just some bitch who fetishizes turian culture! Hell, I bet she'll brand herself with their face markings the first chance she gets. She's the biggest fucking control freak here and everyone knows it! No one likes her! No one cares about her! It's just that we're the first ones who decided to do something about it! To take her down a peg for everyone's sake!"
"Well it seems like I'm being a bit too round about with my words," Vesta looked at Kyra, then at the girls. "So let me be blunt: I think you should go now."
"Go? Do you know who I am!? I am Matriarch Galena's daughter. Do you think some Terminus gutter rat like you has any-"
The camera drone above them exploded in a flash of biotics.
The girl looked where her drone once was, then to Vesta; her body flaring with biotic energy.
"I don't repeat myself," Vesta calmly noted, biotic energy swirling around her. "And I don't miss twice."
The three looked to each other, silently gaging their odds against Vesta.
Then the decision.
Kyra slumped to the ground, coughing, as the girl holding her let go.
"You know what, you're not worth it," the head girl said, though Kyra could figure out who she was talking to. "Come on, let's go."
And the trio left, their steps speeding up the closer they got to the door.
As the door closed behind them, Kyra saw a hand held out to her.
"You okay?" Vesta asked, reaching out to help her up.
"…yeah," she nodded, accepting the help. Getting to her feet, she ran her hand along her neck to feel for bruising. "Yeah, I am. And…uh...thanks for that."
"No problem," Vesta noticed the bruising too. "So, what did you actually do to piss them off?"
"I honestly don't know, I think they're just mad I keep giving them bad marks in group training," Kyra sighed, looking into a nearby mirror to see what the damage to her face was. Bad, but not as bad as it could have been. "But did they really think attacking me would change my mind?"
"Personally, I don't think they were doing much thinking at all," the girl shrugged. "So, what now? Gonna try and get them expelled."
"Of course," was that even a question? "But it's probably not going to be that easy. That Matriarch they mentioned, Gelena, she's a big donor for the Academy. I doubt they'll do more than give her a slap on the wrist."
"Oh nepotism, how I love you," Vesta said wistfully to herself. "Well, maybe I can help with that. Glyph?"
"Glyph?" From the corner of her eye, Kyra saw another drone fly out from behind the lockers.
"Yes ma'am," the drone cheerfully replied.
"Did you get everything?" Vesta questioned.
"I did not. I only recorded what you instructed me to," the drone cheerfully answered.
"So literal..." she mumbled, "just show me what you have," the drone pulled up a screen of Kyra's incident. It started just before Vesta showed up and ran until the trio finally left. "Yep, that's good enough. Please save that and send a copy to Kyra's terminal."
"Of course, ma'am."
"You recorded them?"
"Decided it might be best to have some video evidence that I was rather than just beating up some girls in the shower who could spin whatever story they wanted," Vesta explained. "What you do with it is up to you, but know that I'll be a witness if you need one for some reason."
"Yeah, thanks," Kyra didn't actually know what else to say when Vesta…when Aleena basically offered her everything she could need to see those girls expelled. Hard to argue when the vid is right in front of you.
"No problem," Aleena waved, taking her leave with the drone fizzling out of existence. "Take care of yourself. And if they cause you any more trouble and need a helping hand, just shoot me a message alright?
"Um," why the hell was she stammering? "Yeah sure. Yes, I- I'll do that."
She watched the girl walk out, hardly taking her eyes off her until the door closed.
…why did her cheeks feel warm?
The three girls who were bullying Kyra were expelled shortly after the trainee presented Glyph's video evidence.
From the way Kyra described the scene, that girl's mother threw every single excuse she could to try and discredit the footage. Even going so far as to threaten to sue Kyra if she came forward with the footage. However, the moment the Academy offered to verify the footage's authenticity, the woman did a "surprising" (and completely expected) one-eighty and decided to just let bygones be bygones.
The lead girl was pulled out of the Academy shortly there after and that was that.
But the other two were outright expelled, I think their going to juvey even.
Two out of three. Not the best score, but I'll take what I can get.
In other news, Kyra did take me up on my offer to keep in touch. She told me of her family on Palavan, of her time with her mother's family on Thessia, and about her dream to be a member of C-Sec's Special Response Unit.
In turn, I told her about my dream of becoming the Shadow Broker.
She replied that if I didn't want to share my dream I didn't have to.
Oh Kyra, you sweet summer child.
But in our time together, I found her to be bright, steadfast, honest to a fault, a little blunt, and very 'people' dumb. 'Dumb' in the sense that she either doesn't know how to, or refuses to, word her opinions of others in a way that lets others down 'gently'. If she thinks someone is bad. She will tell them. Openly, and repeatedly. It is a turian sort of thing from what I learned.
Of course, on the flip side, she will be the first to concede if she feels she is going to lose, or admit she is wrong about something. So it's a give and take.
And just like Lynxya before her, she somehow wormed her way into being one of my few friends!
Now I had two whole friends, "real friends", to rub in Liselle's face. For years she told me I needed more than just 'computer friends' and didn't believe me when I said I could easily make friends if I wanted to. Said I was shy and nervous. Even said to me I needed friends my age, not crusty old krogan.
I could barely believe what she was saying at the time.
Shy and nervous?!
Me?
Absolutely not!
I can make friends easily enough, thank you very much!
It's just… hard finding the right people after all.
So there!
Now all I need is for Patriarch to stop sending me weird video rants about how modern krogan are an embarrassment, how much harder it was back in his day, ramble about how dumb asari 'stabbing sticks' (otherwise known as swords) are, and other weird old man krogan stuff during our chat sessions.
Though I have learned a few new swear words for salarians and turians from him. So that's neat.
Time marches on, classes, training, socializing, and everything else with it.
Up and downs.
Peaks and valleys.
Good and bad times.
Friends and rivals.
All felt like a blur in retrospect.
Soon enough, graduation was around the corner.
Thirty years, just like that; like the snap of someone's fingers.
Was it just me losing track of time, or was this how asari saw time itself?
Thirty years, and while I changed quite a bit, everything else around me seemed to stay the same.
Dad's kept doing her criminal 'things'. I'll be honest and say I really have no idea what she does beyond generic gang stuff. I know she kills people, I know she runs drugs and illegal tech, and I'm pretty sure she has some hand in less moral industries if not outright funding the slave trade. Still gruff, still hands off, stiff upper lip sort of woman. But I kinda respect her for it.
Liselle is doing 'Liselle' stuff. Clubbing, drugging, smuggling, dating, gunrunning, sometimes all at the same time. Sometimes she jokes that she'll start 'slowing down' soon enough since she feels like she's hitting the matron stage, but I'll believe that when I see it.
While not dad's best enforcer, Liselle is one of the few she trusts which probably means a lot more to her then a more skilled gun.
And Patriarch has been…Patriarch. There are few other words to describe the guy.
As for me?
Well, whereas the majority of the training was teaching us how to do our job, the last leg of training felt more like conditioning us to use our training. It's one thing to crush a mech or splatter some holographic ragdoll, it was another to take a life.
Therefore, the last leg was all about desensitizing us to killing. They're hardly trying to turn us into sociopaths, just to make sure we don't 'freeze up' or 'fail to carry out our expected duties' from an aversion to the act.
Even took us off-world a few times to some hunting reserve and gave each of us a list of animals we were supposed to kill.
Follow that up with some very graphic simulations of death, and a year long psychological review on each of us to ensure we wouldn't crack under the pressures of combat, and it was decided we are now, for real, ready to go out and do our duty.
But first, a final test.
A task.
A trial, if you will.
Our tests were, supposedly, handpicked and selected by the instructors to best test each individual group and or induvial.
Some girls were in groups of ten, and basically had to attach themselves to an existing huntress team for minor deployments on Illium. Clear out squatters, raid an illegal drug market, and other blue-collar stuff.
Others were sent in pairs or alone to do more subtle tasks. Swipe all the info off this person's omni-tool, follow some other person for two days and have a full record of everything they did ready to turn in. Skullduggery sort of stuff.
Honestly this stuff seems like overkill to send essentially commandos out for. Kind of like sending spec ops units to go collect speeding tickets. They'll get the job done, but it's hardly going to be proportional.
Most of these trials/missions seem better left to the local police. And if I'm being honest, I'm about fifty-fifty on this being just a way to get the girls 'into the motions' of being commandos while not outright risking their lives right out the gate, or being some insanely expensive way for the Illium colonial administration to look tough on crime.
At least, that is what I thought until I got my assignment: raid an underground brothel filled with sex slaves, eliminate the slavers, ensure an 'acceptable' level of civilian casualties, and have it all done in the next two days.
It was after reading that, and confirming with the academy that yes this was my trial, that I felt the sneaking suspicion that I was being set up for something. Because everyone else seems to be swimming in a kiddy pool or gets floaties to help keep their heads up, whereas I get a weighted vest strapped to me and thrown into the deep end!
Like who the hell did I piss off to get this sort of crap thrown at me!?
…I mean there was that evidence I posted about that one matriarch's kid for Kyra that had sway in the Academy.
Oh dear.
At least they let me pick any two other trainees to join me in my 'totally not set up to fail' assignment.
And I knew just the pair to help!
Police were on site just out of the area before the three of us even stepped off the shuttle.
Said cops were furious they had to let us 'kids' go in and handle the delicate situation rather than go in themselves. Lots of talk about 'damn brats', a fair amount of swearing at their superiors, worried about how many captives were going to get caught in the crossfire, and even some mumblings about how we'll all just end up dead or needing to be rescued.
Now we probably weren't meant to hear any of that, since this was on the police's secured comms, but Lynyxa has a way with computers and might have hacked into said comms.
We landed a dozen blocks away and made the rest of the way on foot so as to not arouse suspicion from the slavers.
Now assuming they didn't remodel the building from the original plans Lynyxa found, it was a standard multi-story structure with sub levels. It was a dingy little place in the far periphery of Nos Astra. Far from the hustle and bustle of Dantius Towers and other landmarks.
In other words, a perfect place for a slaver to hide.
Of course, we still had no idea where the captives were being held, or how many were here, so we couldn't just go in and start gunning down everything that moved. I mean, Lynyxa thinks she knows where they were probably being kept, a large room on the first floor, but we'd have to confirm that before doing anything.
So that meant one of us was going to have to go in and find them.
And by 'one of us' I mean I was going to have to go in.
No offense to Lynyxa or Kyra, but their infiltration would probably come across as 'hello my fellow criminals' and be quickly discovered.
But as an Omega native, and a child of Aria T'Loak, I'd like to think I can blend in far more easily.
I just needed to put on some baggy clothes to hide my military grade hard suit, generously donated to us by a drug-addled woman who tried to mug us ten minutes after arriving.
Such a lovely part of town~
With everything lining up, we just needed a plan.
And I think I had the inkilings of a good one cooking in my head~
"Hey I'm walking here!"
Sorhon grumbled under his breath as an asari in a baggy coat shoved against him, "excuse you."
The woman made crude gesture and slipped herself into the holding room before the door shut behind a batarian client.
The young salarian was tempted to followed her in to give the woman a piece of his mind, but his colleague stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Don't," Erlall told the kid, nudging him back to his seat. "Don't stoop to her level."
"'Her level'? It's simple manners," Sorhon sighed, doing his best to put the asari out of his mind. "Did she even pay before going in?"
"Not our problem," Erlall looked up at the monitor to make sure no one was going 'too far' with the merchandise. Young maidens huddled together in only the flimsiest clothes covering their bodies, or wearing nothing more than a collar saw to the needs of the various clients.
Most of the girls moved around like robots, following wherever the floor manager told them, or whatever the client said. No struggle left in any of this batch.
Good. Only some of their clients liked 'fighters', too much hassle for the rest. Most just wanted a warm body, then be on their way.
Erlall kept the volume on the monitor muted most of the time. It was an already endless display of pushing and shoving, he hardly needed to add sound to it all.
A few minutes went by as the pair went about their administrative tasks.
"So," Sorhon broke the silence, "I have to ask: why do batarians pay more for virgins?"
"You mean beyond something new usually fetching a better price then something used?" Erlall glanced back at the monitor, no changes. "People pay more for new things. Simple as that."
"I know that. But why so much more?" Sorhon elaborated. "You'd think ones with more experience would be more expensive. Remember that turian last week who complained about how the girl he had was too inexperienced and wanted his money back?"
"Aliens are weird," Erlall shrugged, it was the only answer he could give the kid.
"I know that, but why?"
"I just told you why: Aliens are weird," he reiterated. "Most get too wrapped up in their hormonal reproductive cycles to really think clearly about things. You could even say the real slaves here are the ones paying us thousands of credits to have intercourse here then the more regulated brothels. Risking prison or punitive fines just to have sex? Madness."
"Well, what does that say about us?"
"Nothing. I don't know about you, but I don't waste my money on petty vices. I-"looking back at the monitor, he noticed something odd. While seemingly rowdy as always, the occupants of the room seemed to be caught in a loop of sorts. Doing an action for a few seconds before snapping back in place. "What the hell?"
"What?" Sorhon looked over Erlall's shoulder.
"Something's wrong with the cameras in there," he kept trying to refresh the connection only for the same 'looped' scene to appear again. It also became apparent he wasn't picking up any more audio in there either. "Go in and see if someone messed with the cameras."
"On it," Sorhon raced into the room, the door closing behind him.
Erlall returned to his attempts to see if he could fix this issue on his end, but the results were the same. The same error message kept popping up.
The door to their room opened again, but while the lights pulsed and flashed, there was no music blaring out. A single person, that rude asari from earlier, strolled out.
Something wasn't right…
"Hey!" Erlall called out to the rude asari as she walked out. "Is there something going on in there?"
"What? Are you talking to me?" the asari tilted her head confused.
"No, the other person who just…" he didn't even finish his sentence before sighing to himself. "Just tell me if you saw anything wrong with the cameras in there?"
"I didn't do anything to them."
"I didn't-" Erlall was about to give asari a witty retort, but he noticed a trailing set of red footprints behind her. "What's that? You walk through some trash on your way in?"
"…something like that."
"You know what, forget it, I'll do this myself," grumbling, the salarian went to the door.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman said cryptically, starting to fiddle with her omni-tool.
"Oh yeah? Why's that-"
Death.
The room was covered in corpses. Some bodies rested in pools of their own blood while others laid still with their heads bent at unnatural angles. Red, blue, and orangey-yellow blood mixed into one another.
He found Sorhon by the cameras, his head spun around like a corkscrew staring aimlessly at the ceiling.
"You, you- did you-" his retort died in his throat as the asari pulled a shotgun out of her coat and leveled the barrel squarely in his face.
"See, the truth is," she stated coldly, pressing the barrel against his forehead, "the game was rigged from the start."
"What game-"
The last thing Erlall ever saw was a bright, muzzle flash.
Our plan was simple. Two of us would go in and clear the warehouse out, while one would be on overwatch and cover the outside of the building.
Of the two going in, one of us would infiltrate the warehouse posing as a slaver, find the place where they were holding the girls, then cause as much panic and confusion as possible so the second could sneak in and start cleaning house amidst the chaos. Then we'd split and go up and down. Clear this place room by room.
Lynxya's virus worked like charm, no alarms raised when I dealt with everyone in there.
So far so good, but…
It was strange.
I just snapped a lot of people's necks, shot a few more, then put a slug right into the back of one guy's head, and I didn't feel anything at all.
I wasn't disgusted with myself, or shaking in my boots, or reviled by it. Sure, the gorier part of killing still makes me gag a bit, but I felt no issues with the act itself.
Not even when turning my gun on the salarian who decided to be the main character for a minute, the force of the shot pushing him against the wall.
He twitched for a moment on the ground, then went still.
I still felt nothing.
Actually no. What I felt was the shiver down my back after that cringy line I told the salarian.
But no actual remorse for killing him, or any of those guys in the other room.
Oh God, I hope this doesn't mean I'm some sort of sociopath.
I mean, I care that the girls being held as sex slaves are okay. I feel disgust at the state they were being kept in and all the stuff they were subjected to, so I guess I'm fine in that regard.
Maybe?
Maybe I was just able to categorize these guys as 'scum' and it let me subconsciously 'other' them in my head?
"Vesta what's going on in there?"
"I'm fine Lynyxa," I replied over the comms, checking my gun and quietly shewing a girl who was poking her head out to get back into the room with the others. Messy as it might be in there, it was probably safer than what it was going to be out here soon enough. No reason for any of them to wander around and get caught in the crossfire.
"Really? They heard that gunfire a moment ago and know something's up. They're starting to move."
"I just moved up the plan a few minutes," discarding the borrowed clothes, I checked my weapon and suit, all the while hearing a swarm of footsteps just beyond the door to the main hallway. "We're going loud now."
"What!? I'm not even in position yet!" Kyra chimed in, huffing as she raced to her assigned spot.
"Well, I'm not in a position to stay quiet anymore," I listened to their hushed whispers just beyond the door. By my count there were about ten of them out there, in other words the bulk of the muscle here from our early observations. "We're moving to the next stage: I'm going to clear out what I can before heading up. Kyra, mop up anyone I missed and clear out the sublevels. Lynyxa, keep your eyes peeled and take out any stragglers that try to run."
"….understood."
"Copy."
The moment the door slammed open I biotically charged and let out a blast of biotic energy right in their midst. They were thrown in every direction like ragdolls, slamming against the walls and ceiling with wet cracks and bloody smears. Many didn't move when they hit the ground. Those that did got a nice shotgun blast to make sure they stayed down.
It was all over in less than ten seconds.
And it was so disgustingly one sided.
"I'm moving up," following the downloaded floorplan on my omni-tool, I made my way up to the next floor.
As I moved, I heard short rhythmic bursts of automatic weapons fire and the occasional sharp crack of a sniper outside. The two chimed in their own statuses as the gunfire slowly died down.
No injuries on our side, no one caught in the crossfire. So far, so good.
But this was disgustingly easy. I suppose that is to be expected. We were commandos in all but name, with decades of training and military grade weapons, they were just a bunch of two-bit slavers and gangsters with only small arms between themselves without a single hard suit or kinetic barrier between them.
Not that I was complaining. It just made my job a lot easier.
I checked every room I passed, a mixture of rooms with beds and other assorted BDSM stuff, all empty.
Was that really all of them?
Evidentially not, the last room on the second floor had three people: a turian and a pair of asari.
Seeing the turian had an assault rifle in hand, he was the first one I targeted. One shot from my shotgun was all it took to have him crumple to the ground in a blue pool of his own blood.
Of the pair of asari, one of them was bare as the day she was born, covered in scars and bruises while the other sneered at me and drew a pistol. In one motion, she grabbed the abused woman and used her as a human (asari) shield.
"Stay back!" The captor pressed the gun against the woman's head, tears rolled down the woman's eyes as she mumbled something incoherently amidst her panicking. "Shut up! You! I said stay the hell back! I'm not dying here! You hear me!"
Oh, this was not good.
"How about you don't do something you're going to regret," I propose to the woman, holstering my shotgun and pulling out my sidearm. Sadly, I couldn't find any obvious way to shoot her without risking the hostage.
"One more step and I swear I'll blow her fucking head off," the woman snarled, looking like a caged animal ready to do anything to escape.
It wasn't a matter of if I could kill this lady, but how could I do it without hurting the hostage.
"You do realize the only thing keeping you alive is her being alive, right?" Quietly, I opened up my omni-tool with my free hand and typed a short message over the coms in from of simple words: Hostage. Need. Help.
Let's see if I can say this properly using only single words and not letting the woman know I'm talking to anyone.
Lynyxa's reply came quickly enough.
Where?
"Then you ought to back the fuck off!" again, she rubbed the barrel of her pistol into the poor woman's head. "If I have to die then she's going to join me!"
Hmm, that was a pretty big window behind her.
Upstairs. Angle. Outside. Window. Shoot.
I couldn't remember if we programmed the phrase 'I need a sniper from outside to take a shot'. I hope this was clear enough.
"Again, you realize I will kill you if you kill her right?" I tried again to impart how that woman was the sole reason she wasn't a smear against the wall right now. "So how about you calm down, for your own sake if nothing else."
"That's why I'm keeping her nice and close. My people will be here any moment anyway," the woman kept trying to look behind me, as if they would materialize any moment. Clearly, she had no idea about what happened below. Or maybe she did and just didn't know how badly they were blown through. "So, what are you anyway? Some vigilante playing Justicar?"
Moving. Lynyxa replied.
Finally! Now I just need to keep this woman talking or otherwise distracted. Time to put my witty retorts to practice
"No, I'm actually your mother's lover," I quipped back, shoving down the sense of cringe I felt as I uttered these words. They sound so cool in my head, but saying them out loud was another thing all together. "I wanted to see my new daughter in law."
"Mother's been dead for centuries cunt."
"Oh, that was just a prank. Wanted to see how many people would actually show up for her funeral. Wasn't happy with the number so she decided to live out the rest of her life with me as my consort. She told me last night how much of a naughty girl you are, so I decided to come on by and give you a taste of your new daddy's belt."
"Is this some sort of fucking joke to you!?" even her hostage was looking at me like I was crazy at this point, not seeing the method in my madness. "You stormed into my warehouse, killed my people, ruined my business and for what? Living out your fantasy of being a Justicar? Or, are you just fucking crazy!?"
"…maybe?" That answer might be a little more honest than I wanted it to be.
Come on Lynxya, where are you?
"You're just fucking with me now aren't you! I am going to enjoy personally breaking you in when my people get their hands on you."
Before I could continue my witty banter, I noticed the faint laser from outside lining up with the slaver's head.
Positioned. Shoot?
Finally!
Shoot.
"Hey are you listening to me! I said-"
The slaver's head jerked as the round passed through it and the woman screamed as her captor's body went limp around her. I rushed forward and grabbed the woman, pushing aside the body.
"Good shot, Lynyxa," I congratulated over the coms, waving out the window to the small figure on the roof of a neighboring building.
"Well, that could have ended worse," Lynyxa sighed.
"So, everything's all right then?" Kyra cut in, clearly aware of the situation.
"Yeah, what about you?"
"All clear on my end. Last pair surrendered, so we're going to have to call in someone to pick them up."
"I'll do that right now."
"Okay then, I'll meet you both downstairs," I looked at the woman. "Okay ma'am, if you follow me I'll-"
I barely got a word in edgewise before the woman started wailing. Shaking like a reed, she held onto me tightly, burying her face in my chest as she cried. Her speech was slurred, but just coherent enough for me to make out 'thank you' being repeated like a religious chant.
Going by how she looks, I'd say she's two hundred, maybe two-fifty. Even without knowing how long she was held in captivity, it's easy to tell that this whole experience, not just the standoff but the whole 'slave' thing, was going to be with her for centuries to come. Maybe even the rest of her life.
I wanted to console her, just a hug, but the skin on her back was raw and zigzagged with fresh cuts. Not sure what to actually do, I radioed my situation to Kyra and Lynxya and just stood there letting her cry into me.
A police medic came by soon enough to relieve me of her on our way out.
Halfway back to the academy, the three of us finally coming down from the adrenaline high of our final task and first mission, my omni-tool pinged and let me know that all of us had passed and provided details for the graduation ceremony.
I didn't reply, hardly feeling the 'celebratory' mood.
[Nos Astra Guard Academy Records]
[AFTER ACTION REPORT]
Mission Summary for Nos Astra Operation A-49
Subject: Aleena Vesta
Squad members: Kyra Bravilius, Lynyxa Dantius [See attached files]
Mission Status: Complete
Mission Summary: All captives rescued, no casualties. All hostiles terminated or captured.
Recommendations: graduation and placement into the Nos Astra Special Republican Guard.
Academic Feedback (Matriarch Naxus): I wish for it to be known that I make this recommendation under duress. Were it in my power, I would have flushed the girl from the program decades ago. The pureblood has been nothing but trouble since the day she arrived in Nos Astra. The girl has clear criminal connections (at least one of her parents is on Omega!) and her placement into our ranks will only negatively affect the Guard as an institution. I rebuke this, and hope reason and integrity will prevail in this case.
NOTICE: Feedback dismissed. Recommend matriarch's dismissal from the Academy.
Addendum: Subject's record forwarded to the Office of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance by Council authority.
[RECORD SEALED]
AN: And so ends the 'Training Arc' for becoming a commando.
Fair warning, the chapter will be a sort of 'highlight reel' of important events and things that happen in Aleena's early career (kind of like this chapter and the previous one) leading up to the first big event in the story where the 'fastforwarding' will start to slow down.