The Locust and Paladin clicked in their slots at my hips, a tentative tap ensuring they were still there before adjusting the gauntlets. All the while, Mat'al steered the shuttle. Nerves fidgeted like an upset cat as the Starquake disappeared behind us. The green planet rose before us, an emerald jewel that promised more than a few pummels to the face. An agitated finger tapped the screen before me, text scrolling like a gentle stream. Looks like the STG were hitting an Eclipse shipment of stolen prototype weapons and designs. An easy enough task, but with a rookie leader in charge? My teeth caught my lip, nipping it. The intel maps spoke of a true labyrinth of a jungle. Environmental data smacked what hope remained. Hot, humid and Christ knows what else. The tangle of tree roots that littered the landscape made the situation more treacherous. It wouldn't take more than an hour or two, a small, simple mission. Mat'al wanted to boost my confidence, I think. Although, with the prospect of abandoning my ship and crew, anxiety still raged through me.
"I hope Gideon is keeping himself out of trouble," I said, worded hushed under my breath. Before leaving, Raisha took over him with her capable hands, but even I doubted her ability to control the boy.
"He'll be fine, Dell," Mat'al said, distracted. A pained moan escaped my throat.
"I'm just so paranoid now. He was alone for less than an hour and…" I said, shaking my head. Mat'al chuckled.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of dating with children," he said, amused. My brows dropped, pinning him with a frown. "Regardless, he seems somewhat happy with your… choice," he smiled as flames licked up the side of the shuttle. Red stained my cheeks, struggling to keep my face straight. He was enjoying this too much. "Saere has ordered medication for you both. The normal vaccines to train your body against normal dextro-amino proteins and bacteria won't be strong enough," he explained. "And some genetic modification is on the table,"
"Joy," I said as the flames died away. "As if the few I got on the Normandy before I went MIA weren't annoying enough," My shoulders rolled back, straightening my back. The genetic modification had thrown my hormones into overdrive for a week. That and the random pains sent shudders through me. "Now, away from my personal life," I said through my teeth. Mat'al grinned. "What's the plan?"
"But that would ruin the surprise," Mat'al said. My expression flattened. He chuckled. "We are rendezvousing with some old friends of mine. You need more confidence in leading, this is a good mission to work on it," My jaw clenched, eyes on the sea of vine and moss riddled canopies before me.
The trees swelled like waves on the ocean, the shuttle rolling towards a mountain swell smothered in trees. Mat'al scanned the area, making cryptic calls over the radio. The thicket was too dense to peer through, no chance of spotting our landing point. Tension gnashed my teeth as the shuttle dropped, skimming the leaves. Dammit, it will scratch the paint! A ravine ruptured the vegetation below us, diving deep into a gorge. The shuttle lowered itself towards the ground, my stomach rising to my throat. My fingers resisting the urge to cling to the sides of the seat. Pin points of light grew below. Tree sheltered containers loomed from the gloom, a small group of salarians wandering around the mossy floor. Mat'al lined up the shuttle, slotting it between a silver shuttle and a fighter. The drive core hummed to nothing with a low whine. The helmet squeezed over my head, clicking into place before the shuttle depressurised. Mat'al needed no protection here, he was used to the humidity and temperature. Me, not so much. The doors popped open and my foot sank into the mossy carpet. The hot, humid air assaulted my lungs without the shuttle's AC. My helmet even fogged up just to annoy me. Water-phobic screen my ass! While I struggled with my suit failing to adapt to the environment, a sun-kissed brown salarian approached us. She saluted Mat'al.
"Long time no see, Delern. Glad to see you out of retirement," she said, grinning. Mat'al snorted as he returned the salute.
"Glad to see you haven't blown a limb off yet, Jerria," he said.
"Still plenty of time for that," she chuckled. "Everything is set up, we'll be ready to move when you are,"
"Good, let me give Dell the rundown and then we'll move out," Mat'al said. Jerria nodded, turning to rally the team. My eyes followed her even as my legs followed Mat'al. "We'll be leaving the gorge and climbing up the mountain, the base is on the other side. We'll be hanging back for the mission, no hands on for you today," Mat'al explained as he took me into the cool building. My body cried in relief. He tapped away at his omni-tool, glancing at the screens around him. "You are not here for combat experience, Dell. Wheel forgive, you have more than enough of that already. Now, keep your head and you'll be more than competent,"
"Great, like a real life simulator," I said under my breath as a tremble rocked my knees. "What about Saboteurs?" I asked. Mat'al glanced back. "You have checked, yes?" Mat'al swung his jaw.
"As best as I could. But we will need to be on guard," he said. My weight shuffled on inching legs. Perfect…
Mat'al filled the pouches on his hips, checking all his equipment. He passed me a belt, heavy and bulky, sliding it into place without complaint. With his map and intel updated, he marched me back into the humid, musky air. My shoulders rolled back as Mat'al raised a hand, signalling to move out. Pain tingled along my jaw, clenched too tight. The group of 12 salarians and I left the sanctuary of the gorge's cool shade. Away from the musky gorge, bugs swarmed. These bugs, however, were as large as my lower arm. Instinct threw arms at them if they got close. After smacking one however, my hand clenched and punched from then on. A tangle of thin, twisted roots dancing over the moss carpeting the floor and rolling high into the air like an intricate lattice. Fearing bogs – or worse – my legs stretched to land in Mat'al's footsteps. I didn't trust the moss to reveal all of its secrets. As the trees grew larger and thicker, Mat'al led me away, branching off to clamber up a particular ribbon of roots, towering above the sodden ground. It reminded me of the Escher painting 'Relativity', famously known as the stairs mind-fuck. Roots soon soared overhead and dived all around as we meandered through the maze.
We crawled up onto the top of a looped root, the thin moss a thinner, slippery version of the patched carpet on the forest floor. Rainforest weather kept the roots slick, the sun speckling through the canopy in dancing points of distracting light. Mat'al raised his fist, signalling to stop. He straightened his back, staring out over the valley peeking through the vegetation. Muscles jolted as he snapped out a pair of binoculars. He passed a second pair.
"Now, let's address the issue here; why you are out in the middle of nowhere clinging to a tree root about 50 metres in the air," Mat'al said. My lips pressed into a thin line, eyes looking up to avoid the drop below. "So, why are we out here?"
"To improve my ability to lead," I said. Mat'al smiled.
"Oh, is that all?" he asked. A small frown flitted across my face. "Dell, let us be honest here. How long have you been doing this?"
"As in leading?" I asked.
"Ever since you fought, back in Feros and beyond," Mat'al said. "Most soldiers by this point in their career are used to being under fire. Yet you defy experience and still freak when things get hot,"
"Well of course I do! I've not been in a fight with a rocket launcher until Kahje, I've never fought a hanar, I've never-" I snapped. Mat'al raised a brow.
"And?" he asked. My jaw floundered. "You kept your head around the elcor on Dekuuna, you stayed cool with the second elcor Saboteur. When we tracked Alea for the first time, you kept yourself together the first half despite fighting against the influence of her specialisation. You've had to deal with plenty of explosions; our little trip in Feros, escaping the prison ship, when the engine exploded on the original Starquake. There are plenty of times to deal with this. Why does it still afflict you?" Mat'al asked.
My mouth opened, ready to bark, but not a word escaped that he would accept as an excuse. And that's what they were, excuses. Was I just a coward or did something burn deeper? Too worried of making mistakes, of letting people down, of putting people into an early grave. Perhaps it Nyryntha messing with my head… My eyes diverted. That last excuse could carry weight, yet I had defied her many times in the past already. Or maybe my programming still affected me. A pained moan sounded, lost in the rattling leaves. Maybe everything interlinked. It wasn't like high school or university where I would get a smack on the back of the hand and disappointed parents staring me down if something went south. Lives relied on me now. But they were alive and they could think, they had good heads on their shoulders. If something was going wrong, my crew knew what to do. They would tell me what was going wrong but to also move into a safer position until I gave a new order, that was their job after all. My teeth caught my lip. The commanders covered any mistakes I made, would cover me should I falter. It was unheard for me not to take a commander with me on missions. With enough experience, I could get a strike team in and out of a mission with no help. Even now, Mat'al was here to keep me right. Shit, everything I did ignored all of this, contented to ignore and hide.
"So here's the plan; whenever you panic, I want you to stop. Just stop and breathe. That will tell me you are struggling, but it will also help you keep your head. Clear?" Mat'al asked, tone light. My eyes trailed through the greenery, a tentative nod following. "Good. The facility is to the right of the valley, down by that strange fern thing," Mat'al said. The binoculars zoomed, the maze of digital circles whizzing around to find movement and/or heat. They followed a hot signature, lifeforms. A group of asari and a salarian with mechs. "The plan is to infiltrate their systems and then ruin their day," Mat'al chuckled, setting himself up. "We know what you are like when trying to 'infiltrate', so when we are ready, we'll give them hell,"
Mat'al talked me through the procedure with a hushed voice. The STG moved through the trees, flowing like water. This environment suited them. They pushed in irregular advances, scouts hanging back to observe the enemy for their friends before advancing themselves. They randomised the order just in case. This style of movement wasn't alien, Indira mentioned she did this with her scouts often enough and Val used it on ground missions with me. A group of 3 salarians reached the building. They slipped up to the door, ducking behind a pile of crates. A swarm of mechs patrolled nearby. The breath stalled in my chest.
"Security systems down. We have 5 minutes before they realise what's happened," a voice crackled into my ear. Mat'al lifted his eyes, catching me.
"So, what next?" he asked. My throat tightened.
"Uh… well um," my tongue floundered, eyes returning to the area to scout. Ok, so 2 to 3 dozen Eclipse mercs prowled the trees – including mechs – and over a dozen salarians. We could infiltrate the interior, but what if they had an ambush ready? What if someone got hurt and… The mechs had to go. But how? Sure, simulators said hacking would be a great option here, no one knew we were here yet but I didn't know…crap, crap crap! No. Stop. Breathe. Breathe. In and out, nice and slow. Don't panic already. You can do this, breathe. Now, what is your gut and head telling you? Are they saying the same thing or is there something else going on?
"I don't like the mechs there. Seeing as we have the STG here, hacking them shouldn't be too hard for them," I said.
"Call it in then," Mat'al said. My lips tugged down. "Go on. Deep breathe in and call it. You won't learn unless you use what you've been practising in the simulators," My head hung, a ball of dread rising. A finger rose to my ear.
"Ground team, hack the mechs and gain control. The fewer shooting at us, the better," I ordered, fighting to control my voice.
"Roger that," the response said. The radio fell silent, dread rolling in my stomach. My heart stuttered as several mechs paused in their patrols. Seconds ticked by, my breath stuck in my throat. They continued on, moving back into the rhythmic thundering of feet. It chilled my blood, did it fail? "All mechs on the exterior are under control. Working on the interior ones," the radio said. My eye squeezed shut, exhaling. It took another 2 minutes but the second confirmation rang. A slow breath eased the haze descending over my common sense. I could do this...
"Ok, we'll go for a flash-and-clear. They're not suspecting us yet but we're running out of time. Have the mechs attack the Eclipse as soon as the flashbangs and smoke bombs are down," I ordered into the radio. The radio sang of 'aye, aye' rolled in. A tremor shook me.
A few seconds later, a sea of smoke and light filled the small basin. Screams and shouts, gunfire and explosions Gunfire was almost immediate, as were the cries of surprise. Pain radiated from my clenched fists, reminding me to release them as smoke masked my vision. Only pockets of heat signatures gave anything away. Minutes and everything stopped. The smoke cleared through the trees, showing me the stationary mechs and a lot of fallen Eclipse men, the door to the interior of facility open with gunfire still popping in the air. A slow breath escaped, tension released at last as the undamaged mechs made their way inside.
Mat'al and I moved, sliding down the roots to reach terra firma. My system relaxed, brain swapping from a pure commanding mode to commanding-in-combat mode as we met with the salarians. No one was injured, a few grazes from stray bullets but nothing serious. My shoulders rolled, the Locust popping free. The familiar weight chased any doubts away. My body knew what to do now, years of training and experience led to this. Trust yourself.
"Can we get access to cameras to see we are dealing with?" I asked.
"We can," a purple salarian said, already typing at her omni-tool.
"Good, assuming the best, we'll tidy everything up. With luck, the prototypes are still intact," I said, eyes on the facility building. A screen hovered before me, several camera feeds revealing a slaughter. Eclipse had not been expecting every mech to turn on them. A few were struggling to keep them down, but a pack of FENRIS mechs chased them down. It wouldn't be long.
"I need two scouts to get in there and smoke the place. Thermal scopes, everyone, let's finish this," I ordered. A red and turquoise salarian tag-team snuck into the building, ducked low as they used the feeds to jump into the warehouse.
My eyes widened, smoke canisters flying like a machine gun. A thick smoke smeared everything from biew, snapping a narrow banded hologram over my eyes. Visors were a new experience, forcing my eyes to focus close until it learned to follow the vague shapes with more confidence. The text and numbers rolling on the sides didn't matter much, Mat'al said to just focus on the moving circles, showing targets. Ducked low, the soft tap of my cautious feet died in the cries and gunfire. A black and orange interface blinded me, any long-sighted focus now gone in the smoke. Body heat burned on the far side of the large warehouse. 'Fire' sounded from my throat before I realised it. If there is one thing the STG are good at, it is efficiency. Not 5 minutes and every single Eclipse merc lay down and dead. The mechs stood frozen, awaiting new orders. What did we do with useless mechs we had no use for, where the hell would we store them? Somehow, the STG didn't look eager to take them onboard either. The STG came up the solution. A few quick commands into an omni-tool and the mechs collapsed and exploded around us, even as the door to the secure room at the back swung open. Find the prototypes, that was the goal, explosions could wait. In the back corner of the room, 4 large crates with the STG insignia sat, untouched. Good, at least the firefight didn't spread into here. The STG had control of the site now, my job now done. My part in the mission was to gain confidence at leading, at decision making while keeping a cool head. Mat'al sidled closer, securing his guns to his back. A small smile tugged up, but the gore of the fallen mercs still churned my stomach. It was almost too easy, too quick. We caught them by surprise and the STG had more than enough experience to deal with this sort of thing. It was a goal to aim for with my teams if nothing else…
"Now, wasn't that easy?" Mat'al asked. He chuckled at my snort. "Now then, remember to breathe and this will become second nature,"
"I wonder how much Nyryntha is influencing me to be so anxious," I sighed. Mat'al shook his head as we emerged from the sticky warehouse. A pair of shuttles soared over the canopies.
"We can only find out. I have combat theory to go over once we are back on the ship. The STG will handle the removal of the prototypes," Mat'al said as one shuttle hovered nearby, decked in purple and grey. It warmed my heart. A light bounce of the sodden moss floor and onto solid ground, my fears of falling into a bog vanished. That and the AC was on, thank God! Mat'al chuckled as he took the controls off the armoured salarian inside.
"Much appreciated, enjoy the clean-up," he said, eyes sparkling.
The salarian grumbled under his breath as he dropped into the forest floor. My teeth grit, standing on tip toe to reach the handles on the door the close the door. Truth be told, I didn't know how to close the doors with the commands… don't tell Val. Mat'al navigated around the trees to get us back into space, the shuttle swinging in gentle sways. My bum landed on the co-pilots seat with a thud, yanking the helmet off. My eyes fell on the shrinking canopies as the radio sprung to life between shuttle and Starquake. The path ahead of me still promised trials and trouble, but maybe it didn't seem to arduous now. It brought a smidge of comfort if nothing else. If no improvements happened from here, then we would have problems. Not that Mat'al would let that happen. It was a risk, and God knows how much I hate risks but life threw me into the wrong field if I wanted to avoid risk. It was a matter of trusting myself now, as cliché as that sounded. Flames danced up the sides of the shuttle as we exited the planet, the earlier humidity already forgotten as a bright spark approached us. Ah, that reminds me, need to talk to Lanster about piloting lessons, either that or just general driving lessons. Although with Gideon also taking up Lanster's time… no, find a time to do them when no one could see my embarrassing attempt to work technology. My head shook, just a normal thing that felt too alien. The Starquake closed in on us as Mat'al aimed the shuttle. The cargo hold swallowed us.
With the shuttle away, the duty of captain beaconed. Between keeping the ship running, there was safety checks, fire drills, report writing – so many goddam reports, don't ask me how many I write in a week – and raising a stubborn child. No one said it was easy, even if part of the problems was forced upon me… actually no, all of these problems were forced upon me… goddam it! My grumbles echoed far and wide as my room surrounded me. Time to get out of this armour. The Starquake powered out of the system, giving me time to hammer out this damn report. My teeth played with my cheek, tongue and lip as my fingers danced over the hologram. The Council proved to exist only to annoy me, despite everything they gave us. The prepared skeleton report I kept around opened and the empty spaces filled soon after. God, couldn't Gideon make an automatic system to fill in the engineering and navigation sections-
"Captain," a voice called. My muscles jolted, head spinning to face the door. Sitoln smiled, although he held it too taut. A heavy breath emptied my lungs. Another problem I hoped would never rear its head. Great. A tight smile spread on my face.
"Sitoln, you've been quiet the past few days. I imagine I know why," I said. Silton chuckled.
"As I suspected, Captain. I hoped for too much, I suppose," he said.
"I'm sorry, but you didn't exactly come on in the best way" I said. Silton shook his head.
"Yes, I realised that error too late. Congratulations, none the less," he said. "I wish you the best,"
"Thank you. Well, we have Saboteurs to give a good kick up the ass," I said, eager to get him out my room. Silton chuckled.
"They are becoming a nuisance," he said.
"Agreed, I'll bring you along on the next mission, you never got a chance with the elcor Saboteurs," I said with a shrug. Silton grinned.
"Oh don't worry, I'll get my chance soon enough." he chuckled. My grin widened a touch. He opened his arms out, offering a sheepish smile. It took every restraint possible to keep my face from scrunching up, even more to reach out and hug him. Sitoln gave me a firm squeeze, as if for closure before he eased back.
A sharp pain erupted from my abdomen. Air froze in my throat. White spots danced over my eyes, my whole body trembling. My gaze dropped as my hands clung to Sitoln. An omni-blade buried deep in my lower torso. My head rose to stare Sitoln in the eyes.
"You have made you final mistake. Two martyrs are now beyond recovery. It appears we will need to activate the Entity. Thank you, Endellion, for all the intelligence," he said. My pupils shrank to the size of pin points.
"B-But, y-your e-eyes," I wheezed. They were clear, there was nothing there! He couldn't' be- Julian checked him! Silton smirked, cold and dead. He knelt down to my ear.
"Little Advocacy, you think we infiltrated you for naught? Changing our shell's eyes is a simple task," he said. A gagged sounded croaked as the blade twisted, every muscle shaking with adrenaline. "And now, there is one last piece of business I must tend to before I leave involving a… small human," Copper filled my mouth, trickling out the corner in a river of red. Gideon!
One second of warning. Just one before a flanged roar dragged me from the looming darkness. Sitoln jolted, the omni-blade gone. A second later, Sitoln vanished, my support gone. A glass panels separating the tiers smashed through my dull senses. Lightning and fire flooded me when my body crashed to the ground, shadows creeping around the edges of my vision. The sound of fighting raged over my head; the smashing, the crashes, the grunts. They only got more vigorous. But parental instants rode hard. Gideon. He would kill Gideon. Saboteur. Sitoln was a Saboteur! Breathe. For fuck sake, breathe! Had to… I had to warn everyone, had to save Gideon! A hidden well of strength, an emergency supply fuelled with stubbornness and adrenaline gave me strength to roll over and free my arms from my body weight. That strength pulled me to the desk.
The desk looked insurmountable. It took everything to reach up and pull myself up. My arms quivered as my body surrendered into shock. My vision blurred, colour leaking away as a hand flailed for the holographic screen. A finger snagged it, dragging it with me to the floor. It snapped to my omni-tool with a ding. My finger flopped against a warning button, sending an alarm baring throughout the ship, jarring another breath of reality. Pain rattled me, drowning out sane thought as – what could be the last thing I do – what little strength remained pooled for one final push. The intercom button blinked on, even as darkness swallowed my sight. Gideon, have to save… Gideon.
"Saboteur… onboard," I wheezed, startled by the weakness. The pool of strength wasn't enough to shout. "I repeat. Saboteur i-is onboard. S-Sitoln is a-a Sabo… teur…"
The Saboteur Sheet and Galaxy Map have been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.