"My deepest thanks, Captain Shaik. I have been after this man for many years," a dark skinned asari smiled. Our hands shook while her attendant asari tended to the money transfer with Mat'al. She offered me an amused smile as she stared past my shoulder towards the corridor beside the CIC walkway where her guards secured her prize. We stood within the airlock, a tunnel connecting the Starquake and the asari's ship docking. "I am also entertained by your... revenge," My grin widened as asari commandos dragged Paul Avimore out of the Starquake, the remains of my black dress ruffled at his knees. He threw me a flushed face of pained rage. My chin raised, a cold smirk winning as the asari pulled him past us. My attention returned to the asari.
"We have our ways, ma'am. Thank you for the reward and we wish you a pleasant trip back to Thessia," I said. The asari bowed her head before exiting the airlock, departing the Starquake. My crew and I moved back inside the Starquake, allowing the airlock tunnel to retract and seal itself while the second ship separated themselves. The asari ship disappeared into the emptiness of space. My gaze glanced to Mat'al. He nodded. 3.2 million Credits in the bank. A giggle bubbled up, fists pumping as joy ran through my system, unable to hide my pleasure as a wide smile cracked over my face. Money in the bank, we had money in the bank! All those little things that would make the crew friendlier, more loyal and better protected were now within reach. My arms locked around Indira.
"I love you, Indira, I love you so much!" I cried as we clung to each other.
"Dellion, for you I would get you anything," she grinned. "You want a star? I heard there is nice one about 30 light years from here," My hand patted her back, head shaking as we continued down the hall. My mind turning towards the future expenditures for the Starquake. There were much bigger things on the agenda than owning stars.
Indira wasn't her old self, not by a long shot. Her calmer attitude set my teeth on edge, eyes judging whether her explosive behaviour would be suitable or a nuisance. The skipping and bouncing around me as we walked had stopped too. Perhaps a good, long chat would do her some good and set my mind at ease. All this calm only made me wonder if her pent up energy would explode on me. But that would happen the reintroduction to the crew. Raisha summoned the crew to the CIC under my orders, although she didn't know why, nor did she know Indira had returned to our ranks. I wanted to see the reactions. Through the glass down the left side of the corridor, the rabble of people below me waited. My shoulders shook out, preparing for either a storm of discontent or relief over our new situation.
Mat'al and Indira stood by my flanks as we walked into the CIC and mounted the stairs, striding out onto the walkway above the CIC. The silence fell over the crew lay heavy over my shoulders, the air thick as people stared. What were they thinking? 'Oh God, she's back', 'Why does the captain look so smug?' My gaze swung past Iona and Aergus, a stern stare pinned to my face, daring them to say anything. Both stood stiff, but otherwise kept their mouths shut. Raisha, Val and Shayan waited against the wall on the walkway. My smile felt like the first real smile for an eternity. My attention returned to the crew, shoving that hard lump in my throat to my toes.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," I said, brushing hair off my face and behind my ear. My cheek stung, the rough plaster grazing past my finger. No one had escaped that manor unscathed. "Well, I have some fantastic news for you. My little plan has gone off without a hitch," A smile pulled my lips up as my eyes skimmed to catch Indira from the corner of my vision. The drell kept her expression smug but looked attentive to where this would go. "As you know, Commander Thermi'a departed the Starquake for a time. We concocted a plan that would allow Commander Thermi'a to scout around for any possible leads without the threat of giving away a merc band waiting to leap upon them. However, your reactions to her departure were out of line," A frown creased my expression. "Commander Thermi'a was doing recon. She found a target. She met up with me during the last party to snare our target, a wanted man. You can now thank her for the 3.2 million credits that now sits in our bank and ramping our reputation up tenfold,"
A satisfied smirk spread wide at the surprised expressions on the crew, Iona and Aergus in particular, at this 'news'. Indira grinned, composing herself. Val, Raisha and Shayan glanced among themselves, frowning. My shoulders squared before continuing with my speech.
"So, after checking our finance situation, we are purchasing several items. Uniforms will be here within the next week. New weapons and ammo will be here in the next day or two, we also have ordered new bedding and some new utilities for the kitchen and living quarters. I have spoken with the flight crew about new engines. We are fortunate that our engines are rare and thus sought after. Once sold, we should walk away with new engines and a small profit. We are also looking at new computer banks. So once the science teams have decided on what they need, they'll be on their way. We are on the downward slope, people. We have a few smaller missions coming up so get some rest. Dismissed," I called, patting Indira's shoulder as my eyes targeted the elevator. The drell fell in beside me as the crew mumbled amongst themselves.
"Thank you, Dellion," Indira said, a smile lighting her face once the elevator doors shut. "You didn't need to dress it up like that," I winked.
"Of course I did, you didn't see me explode after you left," I said, leaning against the wall as the elevator rose the top floor. "Glad you came back,"
"Someone has to keep you sane," Indira grinned. "Otherwise you might shoot someone,"
"Truer words have never been spoken," I said, cheeks flushing. Indira laughed and bumped into my shoulder. "You still going to be a crazy lizard? I've noticed that you're antics have settled somewhat," The doors parted, allowing us to escape and enter Indira's room. The second room on the left had always been messy, it was strange to see it clean. Indira smiled, stretching as she strutted.
"Oh don't worry, I'll still be a pain in the ass," she grinned, giving me a wink. "Just in smaller chunks,"
"Well thank fuck for that!" I said, hands on my hips. Indira pouted, sticking her tongue out.
"Just for that, consider me a pain in your ass at all times," she grumbled. My shoulders tightened at the words, images of an insane Indira bounding around me for the rest of my life. My sanity couldn't take it!
"Indira. Please don't," I pleaded. Dammit, she knew just how to bring me down a few notches! Indira grinned as she flopped on her bed, smiling. My head shook, dragging myself back to my original purpose. "Why did you leave, Indira? You had me worried sick," I asked, seating myself on the edge of her bed. Indira blinked one, quiet, contemplating her reasoning. She chewed her gum, eyes lost in thought.
"Do you know why I was so bouncy, Dellion?" she asked. My breath stalled in my throat. My head shook. Indira never parted with that information and to pry into her privacy wasn't on my to-do list. Indira flicked a smile up, once again caught in the gloom. "When I was growing up, my mother would always complain 'Indira, you never smile. Why are you always so grumpy? Why can't you be more outgoing like your sister and brother?'" she flopped back on the bed, resting the heels of her hands on her forehead. Her eyes vanished from the galaxy. "My father was always closer to me than my mother. We shared the same interests; snooping on other's people business, testing the limits, cooking everything under the sun. But he worked from home a lot, he didn't come home often. After years of marriage, years of my father sending my mother as much money as he could to support us, she just threw him out. Just like that! The divorce was over in days and the courts gave her full custody of all of us. She forbade us from ever speaking to him again, even by mail or phone!" she flailed her arms. My hand patted her knee, dragging her attention away from the anger contorting her face. Indira breathed deep, brows drawn down. "I hated her for it, I hated her for everything. It became my goal to do the opposite of what she told me. When she figure that out, I worked against her reverse psychology. I made life hell for her for cutting me off from my father,"
"My mum later contracted Kepral syndrome. Living on Kahje is difficult for drell because the air is so moist compared to Rakhana. It damages the lungs so until they can't take oxygen into our systems. By the time they discovered it, she was entering the late stages. She died within a few years," Indira rubbed her hands together, folding them into each other. Her expression contorted; her lips tight, eyes dancing across the room, brow furrowed. My fingers squeezed her hand, wondering if despite the hate, she still cared for her mother. When you lost family, even those you despise, it stings you in places you never wanted, burned the parts of you away. It felt too familiar. She narrowed her eyes, tightened her expression.
"When I joined the Hanar Secret Service, I tried to look for my father. I learned my dad had sold information about the hanar security systems to someone, leaving Kahje's defences wide open for attack. We think it might have been the Shadow Broker. That was how he was getting the money, why he was away from us so much. He would go on missions to sell information, whatever kind they wanted, to those of unsavoury nature," Indira sighed. "My mum ended up being the person I should have listened to. She had been trying to keep us safe without ever telling me why. When I discovered that, part of me was angry; why didn't she just tell me what happened? But then the other part of me would ask if I believed her. And I wouldn't have. I... felt like I owed her something, owed her an apology for being so difficult," her voice cracked. She took a few harsh breaths, recollecting herself. "So I became a little more outgoing, try to make friends with as many people as possible," she laughed. "But after years of doing the opposite of that, there was no control, no measure of what was too much. Guess I went too far in the opposite direction here,"
"No," I said, coughing to clear the clogged emotion in my throat. "It just needs to tone down a little, smaller bursts, that's all," Indira smiled, putting a lid on her demons.
"Smaller bursts... I can do that," she grinned. She pulled herself into a sitting position. "While we are exposing our deepest secrets here," she drawled, leaning towards me. "Why don't you let anyone call you Delly? You never explained that one, not to anyone I asked. Even Val doesn't know," Now it was my turn to sit in silence and pain. It was a sensible question; why allow nicknames and not others? But how to explain it without opening old wounds? Hating someone you loved, either before or after the hate, was familiar… it haunted me in the darkest depths of my mind.
"There are only one person in this entire universe," I said, hoping the words would come. "Who can call me 'Delly'," my throat clogged up, the memories flew into my mind. I could see him, crystal clear, with his broad smile and smug eyes. He had been so full of himself. A stabbing pain ruptured as a rainy night filled my mind. My head shook, the image vanishing before the cries could start. "But he's dead now, dead and there is nothing but hurt in my heart from the hole he carved out of me," I said with struggle. Did I ever come to terms with that night? Would I ever?
"I guess... it's an important word then, huh?" Indira said, minding her tongue for once. I nodded. "Don't worry, Dellion," she winked. "Anyone calls you Delly, I'll take them sky dancing like I did Iona on Sur'Kesh," A cough ruptured free, the memory chasing away the darker ones. Oh, Iona despised Indira for that!
"Deal," I said, now able to smile.
"Captain, sorry to interrupt. You're needed in to cockpit ASAP," Lanster said over the intercom. My eyes rolled we shared a knowing look.
"The joys of being captain. I'll let you settle in. I want you back on duty bright and early tomorrow. We still have a shit ton of work to do," I said, frowning at the last words. Indira kicked me, shoving me off the bed. A squeal filled the room before my body thumped onto the floor. Indira burst into giggles while a glare tore my expression apart. She would so pay for this… somehow. At least it was in private. Only Lanster would… oh fuck!
Indira's grin vanished as the door closed, my face taut to keep the flush from burning my cheeks. If Lanster saw it and opened his mouth, he would have to tap dance in a dress for a week to make up for it. The elevator carried me towards the CIC. On my way to the cockpit, something occurred to me. A few brave souls tried to get within 10 feet of me. Good, they learned that while I had my limits, with the danger now passed, I they could approach me once more. Anthon raised a hand from his computer bank, furrowing his brow at the data before him. Had they picked something up on the scanners, Reaper tech maybe? My steps quickened towards the bow of the ship.
"What's up, Lanster?" I asked once inside the cockpit, the small room lit by orange screens and starlight. Leaning on the back of the pilot's chair, my gaze snapped around the displays. None made sense, but then again, Lanster had to find time to give me flying lessons. Lanster scowled from under his brow plates. He hated people leaning on his chair, 'you could break it' was the usual response. As captain, he couldn't argue with me, not in public anyway. He flicked a screen up to my eye level.
"We picked up an SOS beacon from a batarian transporter. Looks like fire broke out from the SOS message, but something about this whole thing seems as clean as a varren's ass," Lanster said. My face scrunched up, avoiding the image of a varren's ass. Lanster misinterpreted my expression since he continued onwards. "The main problem is the beacon is two weeks old. There no logical reason why a ship – let alone a batarian transporter – should be this far out of the normal flight paths," he spun the chair 90 degrees, dragging my arm rest from under me. He clicked his mandibles as my arms flailed to find balance. A smirk flicked over his face. My foot made contact to his shin. He yelped, the resulting laughter from the flight crew making him glower.
"So what is the problem?" I asked. The turian sulked, dejected.
"The problem is that everything about this is screaming trap. Under galactic law, a ship must investigate any SOS signal once discovered, but a beacon this old with no enquiry is nothing short of pirates. You're the captain, you need to decide whether we investigate this or if we slip by and pretend we were never here," Lanster said, his grumbling easing into his relaxed self as the sting of humiliation wore off.
My tongue clucked. Traps like this were commonplace, although most pilots and crew knew the signs and how to avoid them. A 2 week old beacon that still transmitted the SOS was a prime example of the trap. Still, we were trawling through a flight path used by so few to Ilos. The low key route helped us keep a low profile from the STG and any other Saboteur infested organisations. There was the chance that since no one used this route, no one had answered. Either that or they too had suspected a trap and continued onwards. If the beacon was genuine, why were they this far out of the usual flight paths, why would Batarians be out here, what operations required them to be all the way out here? What to do... dammit, this was the part of being a captain I hated! Ok, follow your gut, Dell. What do your instincts tell you?
"Warm up the cannons, raise the shields. Let's investigate this. If it is a trap, maybe we can disperse it so they can't lure other people here too," I ordered. My heart fluttered, this could be me pulling my crew into an early grave. Or worse. Lanster, bless him, didn't hesitate as he whipped around and the dials before him flew like birds under his fingers. He reached for the intercom button.
"All crew to battle stations. All crew to battle stations. This is not a drill. Prepare for possible hostility. I repeat, all crew to their battle stations," Lanster summoned over the intercom. He repeated the message to be sure the lazy got off their asses. My hand patted the back of Lanster's chair before twirling on my toes to march into the CIC. The room filled to the brim, more gushing and ebbing like a tide as they rushed through the drills, alarms ringing overhead. We had done the drill before, a thousand times before, but the flashing lights only heightened my fear. The swell of people made navigating back to the Control Ring difficult, through the rare gaps, the commanders gathered in the safety of the ring. Raisha low rumble vibrated the air once the crowd freed me. Her eyes flicked over to judge my expression.
"Responding to an old SOS signal. Just preparing in case it's a trap," I said. The krogan sighed, her massive shoulders dropping.
"Your compassion is admirable, Endellion. I pray that it is not what you fear that awaits us," she responded. My shoulders twitched, agitation itching the skin. She didn't need to doubt my decisions like this... well it was her job. My eyes turned to the monitors above, waiting to drop out of FTL. Now would be a good time to put on some armour... why didn't I think of that before agreeing to this? A wave of dizziness washed over me as we dropped out of FTL, studying the scene before us.
The radars blinked clean of ships aside from the main batarian transporter and a few escape pods. A scene of devastation enraptured me. A thin, brick like ship tumbled as 3 separate pieces, each in varying states of decay; the hull, the starboard side and the stern. The port side lay in tatters, stray chunks of metal twisting in the zero gravity. All around the ship, a field of floating metal and material, escape pods tumbling through space. Some still lay in their docks, dancing around the wreckage. Not a planet in sight, no relay, no nothing. Just an empty spot of the galaxy. Only a handful of the escape pods had freed themselves from the ship. Even then, most looked too damaged to have allowed people to survive. The cylindrical pods tumbling before us reminded me to check our own escape pods. We had to make sure we didn't have a Titanic happen to us. Nothing fired at us, no ships dropped into view... My hand stretched out in the silence, the crew ready to fly into combat mode as the rotary disengaged. The silence crushed me to the floor. My finger touched a hologram.
"This is Captain Shaik of the RSS Starquake, answering your SOS beacon. Any survivors, please activate your secondary beacons," I called, hoping someone would pick up the signal. My shoulders quivered as tension only grew. Nothing. A frown dropped my lips. My message repeated, but once again all was still. Unease shifted my weight, trying to top the tension building further. No survivors? "How many of the pods are intact?" I asked.
"This one counts 3, Captain," Mysinous responded. "However, this one is afraid that one of them may be breeched,"
"We'll check it. Tag them and let's get them on the Starquake. Keep an eye out for any pirates," I said. The commotion began again, although the crew moved from battle mode to rescue mode. Two krogan refused to leave the cannons though. Just in case, they claimed. Many people turned to the elevator or the tunnels, aiming for the cargo hold. My shoulders pressed against a turian and a salarian in the elevator.
Indira rubbed her hands, attracted by the commotion. She joined with the asari, warming their biotics. We lacked technology and equipment to use mechanical means of hauling escape pods on board, so biotic power would have to do. Indira was on the ball with this one as she directed the biotics to either side of the door. The cargo door opened and the mass effect field took hold, stopping any explosive decompression We approached the first pod. Indira and Eriea pulled the pod towards the door. The remaining biotics held lift the pod once inside. With care, they dropped the pod a rough cradle on the floor. Corin and Utren, the silver skinned, blue marked, amber eyed turian and the dusty brown crested krogan, wrenched the door open. The stench made my stomach churn.
The message was correct, fire had taken the ship. Cinder clung to the pod, the smell leaking into the Starquake, the interior blackened the heat and smoke. Roasted remains law sprawled inside like Herculaneum husks. My mind didn't want to comprehend how they died; either the smoke, the fire or had they cooked inside the pod? My head shook as a quick investigation took place, but we sealed it up and hurled it back into space. We had to move on. We neared the second, however a massive rupture near the engine kill any hope. Mat'al zoomed in with binoculars, aiming for the small gap in the skin. He verified that those inside were already dead. Indira shoved the pod to the side to let us continue. We then came to the final pod, intact but after the first one, any hope had long died. Utren and Corin pulled the door open.
Yells jump started me awake, the metal door slamming shut, the clicking of guns raised to eye level and the twang of a bullet smashing into the cargo hold roof. In happened in a heartbeat. It took a second to assess the situation, another to realise my Carnifex lay primed and ready in my hand, aimed at the pod. Everyone in the cargo hold held a gun, raised and ready. My fluttering heart tried to disarm, but my body refused, too afraid to move in case something stupid occurred in my startled state. The soured air in my lungs released. My feet echoed around the cargo hold as I approached the pod, Utren's broad shoulder slammed into the door. The pistol lowered, feet sidling closer. The pregnant silence weighed down on my shoulders.
"Bastard tried to shoot me," Utren hissed, his voice growling like an earthquake. My throat worked overtime to swallow.
"They are frightened. Who knows what happened in two weeks," I said, calming myself. Utren snarled, although he directed to whoever lay inside the pod.
"P-Piss off y-you bloody aliens!" a voice demanded, muffled by the metal walls. My body froze, turning the voice in my head while Utren roared beside me. My jaw tightened, interrupted by the krogan's rage. Despite my better judgement, my head smashed into Utren's face, swaying as spots flashed before me. Utren rumbled, but silenced himself. So on top of dealing with the guy with the gun, I had a headache!
Or should I say child with a gun. A young male from the sound of things, his voice hadn't even broken yet so he couldn't be much more than early adolescence. The accent sounded Australian but not, softer. New Zealand? Australian watered down from living in another country? My head nodded towards the crowd of guns. Corin moved, taking my old spot in the ring of guns. Utren grumbled as he backed away. A slow breath settled my tense shoulders before a hand raised to knock on the pod door. A panicked shuffle echoed inside.
"Hey there, son," I said. "You're alright, we won't hurt you. We're here to rescue you,"
"B-Bullshit. W-Where the fuck are you from anyway?" he demanded. Yep, a child. What was a human child doing on a batarian transporter?
"I'm from Scotland, Earth," I said, hoping a soft tone would ease his fears. A few people lowered their guns, recognising the sound of a child's voice. A shaken snort resounded.
"O-Oh yeah? S-So you will take me d-dancing around a bloody pole-" he stammered. A smile fluttered on the edge of my lips.
"Ach no! Don't call me English, lad! It's the greatest insult you could have ever said! We Scots don't go dancing around no pole. Never call a Scot English, lad," I said, dropping my accent to a more traditional 'Scottish' accent, more an Invernessian accent. No one outside the UK recognised the different dialects of Scots.
"O-Oh! You're the skirt wearing, ginger freaks!" he cried out.
"That's the one!" I cheered. And he was spot on about being ginger. "Galactic experts of haggis hunting, caber tossing and male cross dressing! So, are you going to let a skirt wearing, ginger freak walk into that pod and help you out? I can't imagine being stuck in there for two weeks is very pleasant. What's your name, son?" I asked. The silence stretched. The Carnifex remained limp at my side, just in case. After a minute or two, concern bubbled free. "Son?"
"...G-Gideon," the voice said.
"I'm Endellion, but call me Dell. Can I come in?" I asked. The silence returned.
"Y-You won't... shoot me?" Gideon asked.
"No. Although I must ask you to do the same, Gideon. No one likes getting shot," I said. Baby steps, Dell, baby steps. Get his trust and then you can help him. The guns lowered, the crew relaxing. My focus stayed on the tiny voice inside the escape pod.
"Ah... w-well..." he paused. "I-I guess you could..." My head nodded to Utren, deep breaths pulled into my lungs as they pulled open the door, opening me to the scene inside.
The Timeline and Galaxy Map have been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.