8 – Truck-sized Mystery

Only on a spaceship this size could a cargo bay feel both spacious and cramped. Between the electrics and piping covering the walls, the dark colors, the clank of boot on metal underfoot and the lack of natural light, it might as well have been a submarine. A foggy window and doorway greeted them at the far end, obscuring what looked like a disco ball. Two staircases flanked the cargo bay's main attraction – a truck-sized mystery hidden beneath a tarp. Gorman for once knew better than to assume his old Ford had also survived for too long and awaited him in a coincidence of galactic proportions.

Mysteries like that, and what awaited them on the rest of the ship, would have to wait. Gorman and company ascended to the main deck. It was divided into three sections. A back end, where hopefully sat some bunks, bathrooms and barista equipment, a central area dominated by weapon storage space and a long meeting table, and the commanding third.

The trio then marched through that sector to find a whole variety of seats. An obvious captain's chair was dead center. Surrounding it, a couple of dug-in chairs with technical panels overhead. Amusingly, they were angled enough backwards to be recliners.

If the Commander had to sum up the ship's top deck, he would give three descriptions – everything was confined, everything was functional, everything glowed. Its rugged exterior was not fully betrayed, everything was also covered in a thin layer of dust. It was no passenger plane or rocket ship he'd ever been on, for sure. Adorned on all of value was an icon – a pointed arrowhead with stars underneath. Without question the insignia of the Alliance.

The only natural light was coming from the large curved windows at the very front of the deck, and even then it was subdued by a dark tint and the nighttime skies of the planet. A solitary, comfy recliner swiveled around to face the ship's new crew. White sat there, wearing a great beaming smile on his face and even a new navy jumpsuit. His smile slowly faded as he noticed that someone new was evidently joining. Zaz folded her arms, taking in the sights.

"So? Impressive, right?" White enquired, knowing full well what his preferred and expected answer was.

"Beats our last ship," Kalu remarked, lifting up his omni-tool to give everything a onceover scan. He nodded his head affirmatively as he did so. Chances were it was going to beat Tara IV too.

"Take us into space, Lieutenant," Gorman directed.

"Of course, Commander. Next time give me a challenge," snarked the pilot. He spun around in his chair, performing a full 360 before settling facing the windowpanes. Levers were pulled and holographic buttons pressed. The ship jolted upwards – sending its unseated passengers stumbling over themselves. White chuckled to himself, yet again flicking the motion dampeners at his own leisurely pace.

"Has he always been like this?" Zaz leant in towards Kalu.

"As long as I've known him," was his wry response.

The two of them kept conversing, but for the Commander his senses were fully directed elsewhere, namely out the window. He had come to a few realizations once again in the worst possible way - all at the same time. He was catching a last glimpse of a familiar yet completely alien world, something only theorized in his mind not long ago. Sure a portion of it was smoldering wreckage from the geth attack, but it still mesmerized Gorman. He had spent every single waking hour since leaving Earth, 170 years to be factual, trying to get back to solid ground. And now here he was, abandoning the safety of a planet underfoot again for who knows how long. The ship elevated, pivoted upwards, and White let fly with his foot pedals. In a graceful arc they cut through the atmosphere, and were greeted with an endless field of stars. He had a crew now, sure, but when gazing out he couldn't help but feel an immense loneliness.

"Kevin?"

The Commander snapped out of it, turning around to see Zaz and Kalu staring at him. He had been asked a question, it seemed.

"We're going to unload the rest of our supplies," stated Zaz. "Don't know about you, but I'm absolutely starving."

"Good idea," Gorman agreed, and started following the two from the cockpit, but before he got any further White called out from his seat.

"A moment before you leave, Commander?"

"Guess I'll catch up later," Gorman conceded with a curt nod. Kalu and Zaz departed through sliding doors to the rest of the deck and beyond. He returned to the pilot's domain, taking another moment to look at the terrible beauty out the window. White swiveled again, revealing a not-so-jovial look upon his bearded face.

"You need directions? We'll head to the relay and take it from there," Gorman guessed. That was as good an answer as to their destination as he wanted to give. There would have to be a big decision soon, head back to the comfort of Earth and probably lose the ship and its crew, or gamble on this so-called planet of 'Feros' to give him all the answers he so desperately was searching for.

"It's not that, Kevin," White sighed. This was the first time he had used the Commander's first name, a sign of serious matters. "Ship's on autopilot – mind you, a decades old autopilot – but don't worry about that."

He peered behind the Commander momentarily, checking that the doorways were shut and no nearby voices were heard.

"I have concerns about our…newest crewmate."

"No kidding. You've been giving her dirty looks since she saved me."

"I get that some of this is 'new' to you, and biotics seem incredible on first glance…"

"I mean, did you see her use her powers? Why shouldn't we bring her along if she's capable of something like that? Who knows what else she can do?"

"My point exactly. Who knows? Biotics are a relatively recent discovery, and we're still only just seeing the first capable human users. To use an analogy, nuclear weapons in the hands of infants."

To get his point across he mocked an explosion with his hands.

"If you will indulge me, I will tell you a little story from about three years ago…" White gestured to one of the adjacent recliners. Gorman, a quizzical eyebrow raised, plunged himself down into the chair, and found it was able to twist and lean enough to face the pilot. White fumbled around in his pockets for a while, before producing cigarettes and a lighter. Gorman refused when offered. One puff set White back on track.

"Hades Nexus, 2180. A routine cargo transport on the MSV Burnley, a little freighter. Arrived at the depot on time, when we got into trouble – pirates were manning the station. Not your stereotypical jolly roger types, this lot. Argued they were just businessmen seizing rightful property, but we weren't going to fall for it. With us was a young Corporal fresh out of whatever lousy excuse of a biotic academy humanity had those days. Now I, like you, hadn't the faintest idea what people like him were capable of. The things he did to those pirates…" White trailed off, letting himself have another drag of his cigarette. "The rookie broke them. Mentally, physically, all he had to do was use his hands and his mind. Worst of all…he enjoyed it."

There was a pause.

"I think Zaz would only use such power in a life-or-death situation," Gorman asserted. "Certainly not for sport."

"You can't be fully sure, Commander. Her colony is on fire, people she knew are dead or worse, and yet she was smiling as if nothing happened. You don't need me to tell you that's not normal. Bah, I shouldn't even say things like that, she could be reading our minds right now."

"I understand where you're coming from, but right now at least, I feel she wants to help us. She's also, quite understandably, still in a bit of shock. Most importantly, Zaz trusts us. You should trust her in return."

White sighed again.

"Of course, Commander. Just one more thing. Biotics might be a natural gift for some, but to actually make use of them you need a military-grade amp, not to mention training. I don't know about you, but she didn't seem a soldier to me. Please just consider that next time you're chatting away with each other."

White's seat turned around, allowing him to regain manual control and get back to happily flicking switches and pressing holographic buttons.

Gorman hummed with consideration. Zaz was definitely holding something back, but White was already held back with a very bad experience some years prior. He shook it off for now – it was time to take inventory and link back up with the rest of the crew.

Despite the ship's size it was easy for the Commander to get lost. Eventually he found his way to a crew quarters of sorts. The doorway slid open. Dusty bunk beds, comfortable-looking chairs, and two crewmates were present. Kalu and Zaz sat by a table with four translucent mugs on it.

"The pilot's not coming?" asked Zaz.

"He's…busy getting us to the relay," Gorman answered, taking a seat and examining the contents of the mug closest to him. "Alcohol?"

"Apple juice," Kalu laughed. "Eden Prime special, apparently."

"It's…bright green."

"Is there any other color for it?" Zaz inquired, half joking, half genuinely curious.

"No, it's fine," Gorman hesitated before taking a swig. He had tasted apple juice before and apples themselves before, but never a drink that somehow tasted like both. It was also a bit fizzy. His eyes were drawn to the clothes folded on beds, foodstuffs on counters and weapons leaning against a wall. "Good work unpacking everything."

"Kabiru was telling me you were in the special forces," Zaz leaned into the table as if this was a classroom rumor. Kalu gave a look that was only halfway apologetic. "N7?" she asked.

"That's right," Gorman admitted, taking another cautious green sip. "Don't know about 'N7', it was more like 'Me plus 7'. I led a team of about eight commandos. Stopped a plot to destroy the Earth. Didn't get paid nearly enough."

Zaz's jaw fell fast, but just as quickly her skepticism was raised.

"Yeah, right," she crossed her arms, as if to guard against future outrageous claims.

"An unknown threat from space was approaching, and not your average asteroid. We were told to suit up and intercept. Would have made more sense for trained astronauts instead of our agents to go to space, but I digress."

Zaz noticed Kalu's indifferent reaction.

"What, don't tell me you believe him."

"Who were your other agents? You said there were eight of you?" Kalu asked.

"It's a long story."

"We've got time 'til we hit the relay."

Zaz sighed. Gorman stretched his limbs, and his mind. This was as good of a time for the official post-mission debrief as any, he supposed. At least he would be spared paperwork…for now.

"Alright," Gorman began, "There was me, Stu, Niamh, Croucher, Aeneas, Samir and the Pastor. Then we had Bobby and Doctor Kozhevnikov for moral support."

"Hang on, that's nine," Zaz interrupted, more intrigued by the odd names than anything.

"I'll gladly explain, but we're going to need more apple juice or some playing cards. Were there any in our fuel canister haul?"

With that, a scramble in the cargo bay began.

Time passed.

The ship thrusted forward to the relay.

White was dozing off in his chair. The auditory emulators were off, the lights were down low, the back of his head was still hurting but at least he could lean back and relax for a while. Blue blips suddenly appeared on his display, bright enough to jolt him awake. The pilot gave the holographic screen a futile whack. The dots phased out, then back in – and with double the numbers. Then triple. Then ten times as many.

"…and that's why we called him the Pastor!" Gorman's punchline echoed through the dusty crew quarters.

Its occupants burst out in laughter, Kalu slamming his hand on the table and sending his evening's winnings momentarily up in the air. In lieu of poker chips they had elected to use bullets from Gorman's antiquated handgun. Even Zaz was, over the increasingly vivid recollection of the Commander's fateful mission, starting to come around and realize his true age, as unbelievable as it was.

"Oh, I miss that guy," Gorman laughed with a tinge of sadness. Kalu's hearty chortle trailed on and he wiped a tear from his eye. "He was the best of us. Never did get to play football with him and his brothers in Rio. Mind you, if they were anything like him I'd never win a header."

"Back to the beacon," Zaz tried to steer the conversation, still finding it hard to hold in a chuckle of her own. She had immediately latched onto the Commander's description of what burned the vision into his brain back on Jacob's ship – and it was as close to the Eden Prime beacon (before its untimely demolition) as you could get. "Was there any indication as to when the…bad thing was going to happen? Next year? Next week?"

"No, nothing," Gorman remarked with frustration at the red-tinted flickers coming back across his mind. "It obviously wasn't Jacob's to begin with, we know that now, but I could just…feel that no matter how much time we have, we're running out."

The room fell silent.

"Enough about me, anyway," the Commander sheepishly concluded. "Zaz, what I'm interested in, as I'm sure you can imagine, is your…ability. You've always been a biotic?"

The woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the eyes of Gorman and Kalu firmly upon her.

"Well, I suppose since birth, but only when I was about ten did I, you know, notice."

"Don't you need a military amp to use powers like you did?" Gorman wasted no time in pressing. Zaz was now experiencing what the Commander had done to poor old Powell and Dave at the spaceport. She was being towered over despite them both sitting down, and having her soul bored into by a sharp hazel stare. Kalu watched on, taking a last gulp of his own apple juice.

A voice sliced through the tension – this time, from somewhere above and through a loudspeaker. The deck lights flared up to regular levels.

"Commander, we've got a situation here." It was White.

"…Can you hear me?" Gorman tested.

"Of course. What, you thought I recorded a message?"

"We're on our way," Gorman affirmed, rising from the table. Zaz was clearly biting her tongue.

"Might want to get changed first – it's the Alliance. Powell wasn't kidding about reinforcements. Seventh Fleet has arrived, and we're being hailed."