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Post by gregoroverlord on Jul 10, 2012 5:36:12 GMT 1
Year: 2200, log of Fitar’Xen vas Kalidas Almost twenty years ago, Commander Shephard made first contact with the Reapers. A little more than a decade after that, Quarians received their spot on the Citadel Council. And now we’re here, I’m here, amongst the innumerable planets in the galaxy, floating with the stars and the heavens- on a boring hunk of metal into another stupid, cakewalk mission. I checked my gear again; weapons were clean and loaded, armor and suit were intact, omni-tool was functional, everything checked out. I was a little on edge, not because of the mission- the mission would be easy- but because of my evaluation. Today, if I played my cards right, I would become a Spectre. I looked at my evaluator, Tavin Lukthurius. He was meditating, or so I assumed. As far as I knew, he was asleep. I drank in the silence, taking the time to slow my heart rate and straighten my thoughts out. “Just don’t look stupid,” I told myself quietly, “That’s all you have to do today.”I watched Tavin to see if he had any response and was rewarded with a little smile from the Turian. The moment was broken when the p.a. crackled on and our pilot said the most anticipated words in my life, “We’re coming up to the drop zone. Get ready.” The mission was a simple one. I was to receive a shipment of tech from a Solarian base and transport it back to the ship. If everything went as planned, I wouldn’t even get to shoot anything. I couldn’t decide whether I was grateful or angry that this mission would decide my Spectre status. I wanted to really prove myself; rescue hostages, bring down an organization, kill a threat to the galaxy; something more important than this. This was my mission, though, and I would do it. I took my first step onto the planet, Vemal, a hunk of poisonous ice in the Antaeus System, and wondered why anyone would want to build anything here. “Not your place to make decisions,” I said quietly, trying to convince myself, “Especially not today. You do what you’re told and you’re done.” “Wise words for a soldier,” came the voice from behind me, “but remember that Spectres can’t always wait for orders. You’re going to need to make your own decisions.” I jumped a little. Tavin had been entirely silent since I’d met him and his voice had startled me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and I looked back at him. I was taller than he was, but only barely and our eyes were matched. “Don’t worry, son, I haven’t started grading yet,” he said with a smile. He had a nice voice, I wondered if he’d ever tried singing. I wondered if Turians did sing. Then I brought my mind back to the present. I gave him a nod and wished he could see my smile through my helmet. “But now I have,” he continued, “Time to get started.” I laughed a little, trying to shake off my nerves, and started at a brisk walk towards the objective, a large, grey building visible, if barely, through the falling sheets of snow. I counted the mounted turrets as we approached, and the guards as soon as we spotted them. The turrets numbered four and the guards ten, all human or batarian. The tech they had couldn’t be too good then; this force couldn’t stop a decent crew of pirates. I sent the password to the door guard via direct link with my omnitool as soon as we got close enough, he checked it and waved us in. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Tavin leaned in and whispered, “What do you notice?” I knew what he meant, though I’d dismissed it at first. “The guards are falling in behind us,” I replied. He nodded and backed up again. I couldn’t see him, but I imagined that his hand was somehow placed near his assault rifle. I positioned myself similarly, trying to inconspicuously scratch my right shoulder, but something continued to bug me as I entered the building; I just couldn’t pin it down. It was like a needle hole in an envirosuit. It’s there, it’s important, but you can’t quite find it. It hit me like a brick after the first door. “They’re humans!” I shouted, yanking my assault rifle off of my shoulder. I heard Tavin swear as he did the same. The guards who’d made it into the building behind us scrambled for their guns but Tavin shot them down, bashing his fist against the close button to lock the others out. “Yes, they’re humans Fitar, at a Solarian instillation, but you didn’t have to tell them they’d been found out. We could’ve played this, seen which way it would turn,” Tavin glared at me. His voice wasn’t so nice anymore. “Sorry sir,” I said as stably as I could. I couldn’t believe I’d screwed up so early in the mission. Tavin sighed, “No worries, son. At least you’re not bored anymore, right?” I couldn’t laugh this time, just nodded and took my position by the next door. Every instillation like this had a little decontamination hallway before entering the main building. We were lucky we hadn’t opened the second door before I’d started shouting. Who knew what could’ve been on the other side. I watched Tavin, waiting for his signal to move into the main area of the building. He just looked at me. “What are we waiting for?” I asked him harshly. “Shouldn’t we be moving?” “My thoughts exactly,” he replied, “but you’re in charge today, lieutenant.” I felt chagrin take hold of me again at that recollection. This was my mission, he was only supposed to be here to evaluate me. Right, I thought to myself, let’s do this. I gave the hand-signals and started counting down. Three. Two. One. I slammed the open button and moved forward, keeping low and heading for cover. No guns went off. The room was full of boxes and crates, none of them labeled. I had no idea what anyone needed this much debris for or why it would be placed so inconveniently for movement throughout the room. Not that I was complaining really, it was perfect cover. I looked back at Tavin and signaled for him to move up too, then peeked over my cover to survey the room more closely. There were two men standing and chatting at the other end of the room; a batarian and a human by the looks of it. Both wore black armor with a hawk insignia on their shoulder and apparently neither had heard the gunfire in the hallway or noticed the door open. Convenient, I thought and leveled my gun. A sniper shot took a chunk out of the cover right next to my head. I ducked back behind cover while trying simultaneously to find where the sniper was. I’d noticed the balcony upon entrance, but I hadn’t taken into consideration the boxes that were scattered there. The sniper must have hidden behind one and waited for a shot. I was pretty certain that their scope was off, otherwise, I’d be dead. Unfortunately, that still seemed like the most probable ending to my situation. The two men I’d spotted were probably advancing on my position now. I couldn’t stick my head up with the sniper still around but if I waited I’d be a goner. I had to think fast. I pulled a grenade off my belt and set it gently by my feet then scurried away from my position, making sure to keep my head from popping up above the cover. I turned the corner of the crate and looked around. The two men hadn’t seen me move, one was advancing directly towards my position and the other was moving to flank where I’d been. I looked around for Tavin but he’d disappeared, probably well hidden among the overly-convenient crates. I activated my omnitool cursing the little hum it made whenever it powered up. I checked again to make sure neither of the men had heard it; they hadn’t. Then I waited. The man who approached directly stayed low, probably hoping to sneak up on me. I held my breath as the lead looked over the crate. Then I activated my grenade. My timing was perfect, bits of shrapnel tore through his shield flying straight at his face. I swept around the corner with my assault rifle leveled and started shooting in short, quick bursts. The first man went down before he knew what was going on and the second followed before he could even find me. I felt proud, I was getting into the swing of things now. I could do it. A moment of silence hung in the air. I’d made sure I had cover from the sniper before moving, so he might be repositioning. I took the momentary ceasefire as time to slip another thermal clip into my weapon. Then, inch by inch, I started moving from cover. I kept an eye on the balcony, trying to spot the sniper. I saw movement, lifted my gun, and aimed carefully. It was times like this that I thanked myself for getting a precision scope; I could see the sniper’s head just to the side of the crate. That was the thing I loved about scopes, the bullets may not fly straighter, but hell if I didn’t hit more often with them. I squeezed the trigger carefully; there was a quick blue flash as the sniper’s shield flared up and then a splash of red. That’s a sniper down, I thought to myself, I hope they don’t have any more. No sooner had I completed this thought than I caught sight of something on the other side of the room. Not a sniper, but I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that. A door opened to reveal a woman in the same black armor glowing blue with biotic power. Crates lifted into the air as she walked by them and it was clear she was oriented on me. I rolled back as fast as I could, hoping to sprint back to the opening hallway for cover. Plasti-steel crates started shattering behind me as I ran and I was unhappy to learn that some of them held explosives. I wanted to look for Tavin but I had to focus on the door. If I didn’t get behind it, this bitch was going to mash me into paste. Twenty feet from the door I stole a hurried glance behind me- just in time to see the glob of biotic energy she’d launched at me. Normally such an attack wouldn’t have been an issue; my shields would have caught it and dispersed it and I’d have been on my way, but with the explosives and debris flying everywhere, my shields were already stretched thin. I took the energy full on and my armor might as well have been tissue paper. Y’know that feeling you get when you stretch too far, that sharp pain that tells you that your muscles are going to snap? I felt that on a molecular level. I screamed as I slid through the door, keeping just enough presence of mind to close it behind me. I activated my omnitool and put the best encryption I could on the lock then turned to more important matters. Having a chunk of your armor missing is never a good thing, but it means a little more to quarians. I had to get my suit patched up and fast. I didn’t have time for good repairs though; it wouldn’t take long for that biotic to crack my encryption- I’m a soldier and little more. Hell, I thought as I slathered omnigel over the breaks, I don’t know if she can’t just rip the door out. As it turns out, she could. As the omnigel set and hardened, the door exploded in, smashing against the wall just opposite me and sending sparks flying. I skidded back across the floor, trying to put distance between the entrance and myself. The biotic stepped in and I swear I saw her grin through her helmet. The door started levitating. I wished I knew what Tavin was doing and hoped it was something useful. “I’ll give you a couple seconds to make peace with whatever God you worship,” the biotic said grimly. “Really?” I asked, moving to my knees. “Sure, it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference,” she said with a shrug, “Now or in ten seconds, you’re still gonna get mashed.” I used the moments properly, whipping out my pistol and emptying the clip at her, even firing further until the weapon overheated. Her barriers blocked the first couple shots, but they didn’t hold out long. I invest in my pistols. Assault rifles don’t have as wide a range when it comes to their abilities and you have to spend a lot of money to get a really good one. Pistols, on the other hand, are cheap, reliable, and lifesaving, as the biotic’s holy corpse indicated. I switched clips and returned my pistol to its holster on my hip then peaked around the corner. The coast looked clear. No crazy biotics to throw crates at me, no snipers to take shots at my vital organs, and no other guns immediately pointed at me. I moved forward slowly and cautiously, staying down as much as I could. After the biotic’s rampage, there wasn’t much left for anyone to hide behind so I was pretty confident I was in the clear. I searched the rest of the base floor, but it was empty. No one left, including Tavin. The only way to go was up. I took position by the stairway, cut the corner and went up. Sweat tickled the back of my neck. If there was anyone left trying to kill me, the stairway would be perfect for it. The hallway couldn’t have been more than twenty feet long but it seemed to stretch on for miles. My finger shivered on the trigger. Then there was movement; I pulled the trigger so hard I took my aim off and shots went everywhere, which was lucky for both Tavin and me. The turian’s shields took any shots that really posed a threat, and I released the trigger as soon as I got my head again. Tavin didn’t say anything, just looked unhappy as he turned away. I got up the last couple stairs as fast as I could and came out onto the balcony. I could see the sniper’s body lying a couple feet away. It made me sick. I had had a little trouble with killing people when I first enlisted, but I thought I’d gotten over it. I didn’t know what about the body got to me, but there was something. I was shaken out of my thoughts by Tavin’s words, “I’m here to assess you today, not to teach you, but I want you to be aware of a few things for the future. First, never get cocky, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. If you just started shouting in a hallway, chances are good that the people in the next room heard you. Second, making a tactical retreat is a good idea but backing yourself into a corner is not. You were lucky that biotic took the time to gloat. And last, being cautious is a good thing; being scared is not. Firing on me in the hallway wasn’t a mistake. I could’ve been anyone and you couldn’t take the time to find out. The mistake came with the panic fire.” I nodded my agreement, too embarrassed even to reply this time. “Don’t start thinking you did everything wrong though, son. The grenade was brilliant and so that shot.” He gave a shrug indicating the sniper’s body and I felt my gorge rise again. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to puke. Puking in the suit took forever to clean. “Now come on, son, let’s finish this up.” The rest of the mission went exactly like the whole thing should have. We grabbed the goods off of a Solarian’s body- they’d all been piled in the saferoom- and returned to the shuttle. Tavin had reprogrammed the turrets to take out the grunts he’d locked outside. I was to talk to the counselor as soon as we got back to the citadel. I’d known for a while that I’d pretty much killed my chances of becoming a Spectre, but Counselor Talka’s first words to me made it all the more real. They weren’t harsh, just final. “Sit down, soldier.” That was it. An emphasis on soldier. I sat where she indicated and waited for an admonishment that didn’t come. “I received both your report and Tavin’s. He’s told me his judgement on you becoming a Spectre. Do you have anything to say?” “No, ma’am,” I replied, staring intensely into my lap. “Very well. Based on both of your reports, I, along with the rest of the counsel, have concluded that you are not yet ready to join the Spectres.” “Yes, ma’am.” I waited for the dismissal now. The best I could really hope for was to be sent back to my regular position. “However, you’ve shown some amount of promise and I’ve got an offer for you, if you’re willing to hear it.” My head snapped up and I looked at her in shock. “Yes, ma’am!” “As you know, the N7 teams have kept active in recent years. In the last couple months, they’ve submitted to a small amount of oversight from the Counsel. We believe that it would be a good strategic move to put forth a former Spectre candidate as a volunteer for a team. We hope that joining an N7 team will give you the skills and improvements you need to become a full-fledged Spectre. Are you up for it?” For a second I could only nod, but my voice came back to me quickly. “Yes! Yes, ma’am, of course! Thank you, ma’am!” “Good,” she said, rising from her seat, “You’ll go to the N7 main base located here on the Citadel and wait to be assigned to your team. Report back once this has happened. Dismissed.” I left the office in a euphoria. the N7 teams were seen as the best soldiers in the galaxy, second only to the Spectres. I couldn’t believe I’d actually been assigned to them. I slowed myself as I left the embassies, excited as I was, there was no need to rush into the future.
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Post by gregoroverlord on Jul 17, 2012 4:24:28 GMT 1
My fingers played along the ridges of the object in my hands. It was smooth and cold and metal and I liked it. I wondered what I could make it into. Always the others were calling me A’kshas, Tinkerer. They meant it as an insult but I took pride in it. Vorcha are bad at making things. They think they can get whatever they want from scavenging, but my kristik, my father, knew better. “Kalos,” he would say to me when I was a pup, “not everyone can share everything. One person must be the builder and the builder will have all of the power.” So I build. I make things, lots of things. Other Vorcha made fun of me because I am weak, so I burned them, then they did not mock me anymore. That brought me back to the piece of metal in my hands. It was hollow and round like a ball, with a slice cut out of it. It had a two perpendicular ridges on it, serrated like cogs. It could be a chassis, perhaps, or I could make it into a simple robot. I began to play with it again, spinning it and feeling every possibility it had. I was so enthralled by the little piece of metal that I did not hear the other Vorcha coming behind me. One of them picked me up and threw me against a wall. I felt the cogs dig into my chest but I wasn’t going to drop my prize. Wounds would heal but if I dropped the thing now I might never find it again. So I held it, trying to make sure the other Vorcha didn’t see it while they beat me. Other Vorcha were mean, they would take it and then I would have wounds and nothing to show for it. I endured. It wasn’t a long beating, not as long as the last one I’d gotten, but they hit harder this time. One of them only kicked for my head. I wanted to bite him, fight back, but then they would see my prize and they would beat me and take it. Then one of them called for the others to stop. I let out a sigh of relief as they left. Each of them spat on me before they walked away, but I felt no greater anger. They’d shown me what my prize was meant to become. “Bombs for the brutes,” I muttered to myself, “Blow them away with one big bomb.” My fingers played along the ridges for just a second more and then I was off to my hideout. For Vorcha living on the citadel, life is hard. C-sec takes shots at us when they see us and no one likes us around. So I learned to hide and do it well. It was easier for me because of my size; I fit better into the little spaces. That’s how I found my hideout. There was a little service hallway that not even the keepers fit into. I pushed myself through it and found a space on the other side as big as some of the apartments. I started building my hoard immediately, filling that room with every wire and piece of scrap metal I could. Now it was my treasury. Other Vorcha would kill to get at my treasure but they were too big. It was mine forever and only mine. I would set to work immediately, connecting wires and packing explosives. One bomb to end my problems again. I could never find a permanent solution, but blowing up a bigger Vorcha every now and then would keep the others from attacking. I squeezed through the tunnel quickly, excited to start my work, but there was an interruption. Among my scrap heap, picking through the metals, was a little human child. Fury consumed me like the blood lust most of my people face. This little creature was taking my things. How long had it been stealing from me? What treasures had it taken? I charged at the child, screaming my rage. He dropped my treasures and tried to run, but there was no exit. He huddled into a corner and brought up his hands as if to defend himself. “What have you taken?” I screamed at him, “Give me back my treasures, welp! Give them back!” “I don’t have anything! I swear!” The child cried, trying to huddle further into the corner. “Please don’t hurt me!” I stopped, dumbfounded. I’d never been in this position before. I’d never been the stronger one in a confrontation; the smarter one always, but never the stronger. I backed away quickly, trying to clear my head. The child’s eyes glistened with tears. I felt bad. I quickly started gathering pieces of my treasure. He hadn’t picked up anything he’d find useful the first time; he didn’t know how to use anything. I grabbed a small box of medigel and a few pieces of scrap that would sell at a decent price and set them by the door. I rubbed my hands together nervously as I approached the child again. “Very sorry,” I mumbled, hoping not to scare him. “I’m very sorry.” He stood up slowly. He was a brave child. “It’s alright,” he said, wiping his nose on his sleeve, “I didn’t know I was stealing. My name’s Faedan, what’s yours?” “Kalos,” I said, backing up a couple steps as he advanced. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I felt bad. “The other kids always talk about how evil Vorcha are, but you don’t seem so bad.” “Kalos has had experiences other Vorcha haven’t. Kalos is the weakest. Kalos does not like being bad like other Vorcha.” “Do you have any friends down here, Kalos? You’re not alone, are you?” “Kalos is alone. Kalos only has not-friends.” The child, Faedan, stepped forward and offered his hand. “Maybe I could be your friend, Kalos.” I hesitated a moment, but I was overwhelmed. I backpeddled as fast as I could, bringing my hands up in front of my face as if to block some unseen attacker. “No, no, no! Kalos only has not-friends and the not-friends will want to hurt any of Kalos’ friends. No friends for Kalos! No friends for Kalos!” The outburst clearly scared the little boy, he ran, not even grabbing the things I’d laid out for him. I felt bad again. I took a moment to let myself feel bad. There were lessons to be learned from feeling bad, but I had a job to do. I shook my head once, clearing it, and set to work. I made my bomb quickly. I’d gotten good at explosives; it came with practice. Now all I had to do was find the bad Vorcha. Wouldn’t be hard, I’d gotten a good scent when they were beating me. Would be even easier since I knew where to look. Vorcha are territorial. They wouldn’t go out of their way to attack me so they had to stay around the heap where I’d found my prize. All I had to do was go back and hunt them down. The bomb hummed softly in my hand. I’d managed to find a useable old omnitool a while ago so I’d be using that as a detonator. Just had to find the Vorcha. I got the scent next to the pool of my blood that had been left and started hunting. The hunt turned out to be longer than I’d thought. The Vorcha territory must have been large. I hunted down a lot of alleys, even a few main streets. I didn’t know how they’d avoided detection around there. Maybe C-sec didn’t hate all Vorcha, just me. Everyone hated me. Except Faedan, Faedan wanted to be my friend. I felt the bad feelings come up again but I shook them off. No time for bad feelings, I had to kill Vorcha. The Presidium lights were starting to dim for the night when I finally caught up. I stood on a little balcony overlooking an alley. The Vorcha, four in total, were there talking with two humans in black armor. The humans looked professional with rank signs on their armor and a hawk emblem on their left shoulder. I didn’t want to kill the humans, killing humans was bad and these humans might not need to die. I decided I would wait until they left and then I would throw the bomb. I would listen until then. “-shipment will get to you when it gets to you,” the human with the biggest rank said. “We have other clients to attend to and we’ve had a recent setback with one of our missions.” “Don’t care about your setback!” the Alpha Vorcha screamed back, I recognized him as Lizsk. “We were promised weapons and we want weapons!” “Fine, you fucking rat! We’ll dig into our reserves and have the weapons for you tomorrow, deal?” “Lizsk will teach you who’s a rat, welp!” Lizsk lunged at the man. The other human shot him down in a heartbeat. I thought it was hilarious. Big, mean Lizsk getting shot down by a big, mean human. I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. It was a mistake. The humans and the rest of the Vorcha all heard. “It’s the runt!” the second Vorcha, Shkor, screamed. “Kill him! Kill the runt!” I saw the humans raise their guns and the Vorcha reached for their pistols. I had no choice now. I tossed the bomb down and dropped to the floor. I opened my omnitool and activated the explosives. There was an earthshattering explosion. I took a moment of pride in my skill as a bomb-maker, but only a moment. I heard the C-sec coming. It only took them a moment to assess the situation. Four dead Vorcha, two dead humans, bomb fragments, and me the only one left alive. They arrested me roughly. One of them hit me with some sort of shocking baton and everything went black. I woke up in a cell to the sound of the door sliding open. I was chained to a chair in front of a table with another chair across from me, and my head hurt terribly. A man walked in, his boots creating resounding thuds as he neared me. He grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. “Start explaining, you little wretch. There are six dead on your hands and we haven’t heard an excuse for it yet.” I struggled, trying to tear my head free of his grip but he held firm. “Didn’t- nnng- murder them! They-shot-first!” I screamed through clenched teeth. The officer released my head, but not before giving it one last firm jerk. “Bullshit,” he swore, spitting. “The Vorcha I’d believe, but those people were too important to start anything up with you. And even if they did, there ain’t nothing wrong with takin’ a few shots at some Vorcha; that’s nothin’ worth killing over.” “Overheard them!” I screamed, trying to squirm free of my restraints. My size did me no good though. “They said they was gonna bring weapons onto the Citadel! They saw me and started shooting!” The officer laughed. “And I suppose you just happened to have a bomb on you, huh? Just something every Vorcha carries around for fun?” “Yes, wait, no! Kalos had a bomb, but not for humans, for Vorcha! Vorcha beat Kalos, Kalos was going to teach them a lesson!” The officer slammed his meaty hands down on the table. I didn’t know what I’d done to anger him but I certainly had. “Listen to me, you alien little bitch! If me, or any other human, is good enough to let you speak around us, you’d damn well better speak normal! First person nouns, runt!” “Yes, sir!” I screamed, “I will speak normal, sir! Please don’t hurt Ka-” I felt the slap more than I saw it. For a man of his size, the officer moved fast. “What was that, bitch?” He screamed, flinging spittle in my face. “Please don’t hurt me, sir,” I whimpered, ducking my head to evade his eyes, “Please don’t hurt me.” “Damn right,” he huffed as he straightened up. “At least I can be done working with you now. You just confessed to first degree murder.” My head snapped up and my eyes opened wide in terror. “No, sir, no! I did not murder them! I did not murder-” He slapped me again. “Enough of this shit. You’ll be tried within the week.” I subsided into whimpering as the officer turned to leave the room. That’s when my angel showed up. The door opened and an Asari came in, dressed in good clothes. “Hold up, Corporal,” she hissed, her tone as cold as empty space. “Ma’am,” he replied, coming slowly into a sloppy salute. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ve just come from reviewing the security footage taken at the crime scene,” she said. I noted that she didn’t tell him to be at ease. He didn’t seem to notice and relaxed anyway. “I wasn’t aware there was any, ma’am,” he replied, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’ll make sure you’re reprimanded then. Overlooking evidence is bad for the force.” He growled at her but she didn’t seem to care. She went on, “The footage shows with absolute certainty that the humans and Vorcha fired first and the bomb was only released when necessary.” “With all due respect, ma’am,” the officer started, “this little runt has just confessed to bringing the bomb to kill those Vorcha.” “Whatever the bomb was brought for, it was used in self-defense,” the Asari countered. “And any half competent officer would realize this.” This pushed the Corporal over the edge. He lunged at her, swinging a heavy fist, but he might as well have been a child playing war. The Asari didn’t even bother with biotics, just redirected his motion and threw him into a wall. “I’ll make sure your superiors get word of this,” she said coolly, “and now, officer, you are dismissed.” Her voice rang with regal finality. The officer pulled himself up and limped out of the room, closing the door behind him. She came over to me and gave me a little smile. “You won’t have to worry about that xenophobe anymore,” she said, sitting in a chair opposite me. “Xe-no-phobe?” I said, rolling the word around in my mouth. “Someone who doesn’t like anyone different from themself,” she explained patiently. I remember thinking that was strange. Everyone was different. Did xenophobes hate everyone? But my thoughts were stopped when the Asari saked me, “Now, if I release you from your bonds, will you promise not to run away?” I nodded quickly. “Kal-err-I promise, ma’am.” She shook her head slowly, as if amused. “Speak comfortably, you need not fear me. What is your name, sir?” She asked, cutting the power to my cuffs. “Kalos, ma’am,” I remembered Faedan and how polite he’d been.”What....is yours?” “Shaolok,” she replied softly. “I’ve come to speak to you about your situation.” “Will Kalos go free, Shaolok?” For the first time, she looked sad. It made me feel bad again, but not with myself this time. I felt bad because I did not like seeing Shaolok sad. “In a way,” she began; her words came slowly. “You will be free, but I’m afraid it would be dangerous for you to stay on the Citadel. If- if you’re willing, I have another option for you.” “Kalos would have to leave?” I asked, feeling despair well up in me. “Yes, Kalos, but you would not have to leave alone. It would be a good change for you, I promise.” Her words reassured me beyond any doubt. “Kalos would like to go then,” I said, trying to sound confident. “First hear my proposal, Kalos. Never agree to something you don’t understand.” I thought she was being strange. She had promised me that it was a good thing and I believed her. Why would she bring that to question. Whatever her motives, I nodded my assent and let her continue. “I work for an agency called N7. I’ve heard you have certain skills that make you a prime candidate for one of our teams. If you agree to this, you’d be sent on missions with three others who would look out for you and whom you would look out for. Do you agree to this?” I was nervous about meeting new people. People were mean. But Faedan wasn’t and Shaolok wasn’t. Maybe my team would be not-mean too. I nodded again but a thought occurred to me. “Can Kalos have books on making things? Kalos has something else he has to do before he leaves.” Shaolok looked confused but she agreed nonetheless. She provided me with several datapads on basic technology, as well as a dictionary and a ‘how to learn to read’ program that I asked for a little later. I wasn’t sure how much would be needed, but I wanted to be prepared. As soon as these had been gathered, I rushed back to my hideout. It was empty, Faedan had not come back, but in case he did, I needed to make up for scaring him. I placed the books in a pile on a little makeshift desk along with a note I’d written by myself. Little Faedan, it read, Kalos is sorry for scaring you. Kalos did not mean to, but Kalos was very afraid. Kalos has to leave the Citadel now but Kalos’ treasures must be kept safe. Kalos would like you to keep them safe please. Kalos got books from a nice Asari named Shaolok, they will teach you how to use Kalos’ treasures. There are other books to help you read too, just in case. Kalos would feel bad if his gifts were useless for you. Kalos is very sorry for leaving so fast, but promises to come back as soon as possible. Maybe Kalos will teach you how to work some of the treasures. Or maybe you will teach Kalos by then. Be safe, little Faedan. Your friend, Kalos
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Post by gregoroverlord on Jul 24, 2012 4:43:51 GMT 1
I’ve been told I was a strange sight to see, a meditating Krogan being somewhat of a rare sight. In fact, I’ve been told I was the first male on record to meditate. Tuchanka’s harsh climate has never really allowed our species peace; at least, not until Shepard came and put everything right, and I tried to embrace it. Finally there was order, our restless world calmed. As an old Krogan, I appreciated it more than the new generations. As a strong Krogan, I had more of a chance to uphold it, but there would always be violent Krogan in the galaxy, Krogan who wanted to wage war and conquer distant worlds. Wrex had personally put me in charge of keeping such Krogan in order and I was proud. Often, I had been called a coward by Krogan, as I lacked the battlerage that most of my species uses to fight. When Wrex gave me my command though, those jeers came to an end. Wrex wanted a new position made for me. He told me that the Krogan already had too many warlords and battlemasters. He’d briefly considered calling me a peace-lord, but in his own words “it sounded like shit”. Instead Wrex gave me the title of Atlas. He told me the story had been told to him by one of Shepard’s crew while he stayed on the Normandy. Atlas was a giant man, in some human mythology, who’d carried the world on his shoulders. Wrex told me that I would be the Atlas for the Krogan race, that mine would be the shoulders on which the Krogan fate stood. I thanked him for the honor and he gave me my first mission. “It’s an easy one, Shalk,” he’d said, “A few idiots calling themselves the True Krogan aren’t done fighting yet. Go change their minds.” He’d offered me a team, but I refused. I wanted my first mission as an Atlas to be a symbol and a message. There would be peace, I would make sure of it, and I would need no others to do so. The rebel Krogan were a long shuttle ride away, nearly on the other side of the planet. I took the time to prepare myself. I sat and became still, focusing on my inner powers and manifesting them, amplifying them to heighten my strength. I’ve been told this is the most disturbing part of my meditation, the visible presence of my biotic powers. Apparently they are not blue or purple like normal biotics, but a ghostly white. Some have said they have heard the whispers of the dead when I do this, but I believe they are imagining it. I do not commune with the dead when I meditate, merely connect with my deeper self. I concentrated on that part of me, the part of me that was the power of the universe, and I brought it to life, as I still do. I fed that power until it nearly consumed me. Every second of that ride my power resonated, growing little by little like a rain shower into a tempest. By the time the shuttle touched down, I was ready. I stepped off of the shuttle and felt the rock crunch beneath my feet. It was a side-effect of amplifying my biotic abilities too much. The energy sought a release and my body was not always able to contain it. I approached the door to the rebel base, a thick piece of steel with a narrow slit in it cut into the side of a cliff at the end of a short canyon. A very defensible position. A krogan appeared behind it when I drew near. “Who the hell’re you?” the Krogan asked. “I have been sent by Wrex to-” I was never able to complete my sentence. Fire started raining down on me from all sides. I pumped energy into my barriers, but none of my assailants seemed to notice. Their weapons did near nothing but they seemed determined to whittle me away. . “I come only for peace!” I shouted, trying to reason with them. Whether they ignored me or simply could not hear me over their own gunfire, I did not know, but the shooting did not stop. “Krogan, let me speak with you!” I screamed, louder this time. I would be heard; I would make myself heard. “Enough!” I detonated my barriers, sending a shockwave throughout the canyon. Rock tore free and flew like shrapnel and soldiers went flying. The door and the doorman behind it were thrown back and down the hallway leading deeper into the base. “I have not come to fight! I come to make peace and peace shall be made! I am Shalk, the Atlas of the Krogan people, and I will not tolerate your behavior! Let your leader come to face me as honorable Krogan! Tradition set by our ancestors will decide our struggle!” My voice echoed off of the canyon walls and deep into their fortress. This time, I was answered. A Krogan, large even by our species’ standards and covered in scars and pockmarks emerged from the shadows of the mountain. His armor, though battered and worn of any paint it might once have held, was of strong Krogan make. He held a shotgun in his left hand and a sword in his other. “I am Khurrel, leader of the True Krogan. I will face you,” he said, his voice hushed and grave. I bowed, as I was taught, and relaxed into my fighting stance. Many Krogan depend on their battlerage and raw physical ability to win them a fight. I lack the former and so mastery of the latter was imperative. Through my years I trained with many martial artists, from Turian to Human to Asari. I came to learn many of their fighting styles and they have served me well. Khurrel narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth at me. “Are you trying to insult me? Pick up a weapon!” He screamed, aiming his shotgun at me. “I mean no offense,” I told him, “but I have the only weapon I need.” Khurrel roared at me and charged, disregarding the weapon in his hand. This was the flaw with the battlerage. Krogan get so caught up with the act of fighting, many forget how to fight at all. I may always have lacked the endurance and strength that comes with the rage, but I have received control in its stead. I grabbed Khurrel in his charge, redirecting his momentum up and over me. He landed ten feet away with a heavy thud, but I knew that that would not put him down. He came to his feet again, remembering his shotgun. The barrel blasted as I raised my barriers once more and the shots were absorbed. I clenched my fist, focusing my barrier into a projectile and launched it at the warlord. A hole the size of my hand appeared all the way through him. He fell to his knees, still struggling, trying to attack me. I watched as he blasted his shotgun wildly, aiming for anything and everything, then I approached him and knelt. “Relax my brother, you fought like a true Krogan and are dying a warrior’s death. You may go peacefully into the Void now.” I closed his eyes and laid his body on the ground. “Is there any other Krogan who wishes to challenge me?” I called to the onlookers. No one stepped forward. “Then let you all return to your villages! There is work to be done in rebuilding our society. The Krogan go now into the future. Those of you too weak to follow the path will be left behind and forgotten.” Silence rang as I waited for a response, so I continued. “We are no longer the savages we were forced to be. Think of your pride, Krogan, think of your strength! These should be put towards helping our species, not hindering it! Now, I say again, go! Return to your homes and your families. Create homes and families if you lack them!” Not a one of them moved; it irritated me. “What are you waiting for?” I asked them, “Are you too weak to move? Too spineless? What holds you away from your homes?” “We do.” The whisper came from right behind me and sent chills deep along my spine. I felt a blade pierce my armor and cut through me. My assassin twisted it then yanked it free. As I fell, I looked to see my killer. It was a human, or perhaps a Batarian. I could never tell the difference when their helmets covered their faces. He wore black armor with a rank on his right shoulder and a hawk insignia on his left and held Khurrel’s sword in his hand as he stared down at me. His tinted visor covered his face but not his feelings. He was happy to have killed me. “You’ll find it hard to use your biotics on me now,” he whispered to me with a joyful malice. “This blade is some new tech we found, specially designed to keep biotics down.” Then he turned away from me and started to speak, not even bothering to finish me. It was as deep an insult as any and I seethed with anger. I could still feel my power flow through me, but I could not force it outside of my body, no matter how hard I tried. “Krogan,” he called to them, “your leader was laid low by this beast,” he indicated me with a sweep of the sword, “but now it lies dying because of me. You would not test it so you will not test me. Kneel, beasts, kneel before your better.” The Krogan shouted their dissent, but none would move to attack him. I tried to push myself to my feet, using my anger as a crutch, but to no avail. I could not rage and shake off this wound like other Krogan. “The True Krogan serve us now,” the assassin proclaimed. More dissent from the Krogan. They would not bow their knee, but they truly believed this man their match. Or were there others. Yes, I thought, he’d said that ‘we’ keep them from returning. I do not deal with a single man. I tried once more to harness my anger, to achieve the battlerage that would allow me to stand and fight, but it would not come. I looked back on my lessons, on my old masters. My Turian master, Tirik, had given me discipline. He had taught that the mind controls the body. “Your limits are defined only by your mind,” he’d said, “your body can do whatever it must if your mind has the strength.” I focused on his words but still no strength came. I thought back further, to my human teacher, “You are strong,” he’d told me often, “but physical strength is nothing without the will to control it. Now, your species is as strong of will as of body, but instead of discipline, you focus your will through emotion. Emotions are limited and thus your strength is limited. The key is, to achieve discipline, and from there, unlock your greatest strenght.” His words rattled in my brain. I needed discipline, not anger now. I took a deep breath and relaxed myself, letting the anger flow from me. Then I hardened my will and tried to force myself up. It was in vain. I collapsed to the ground again, even more exhausted, whatever that blade did, it didn’t just affect biotics. I was feeling weaker by the secon. My Asari teacher had said the same as my first masters. Body through discipline. I thought back further. My drell teacher had taught me the same. Body through discipline. And then further once more, to my very first teacher. As ever, this teacher did not fail me for my father had taught something else. “Shalk, you are a Krogan,” he would tell me, “a strange one, but a Krogan nonetheless. And that means something. No matter what you face, you will always win. Remember this, if you can’t break it with your fists, use a hammer. If you can’t break it with a hammer, use a gun. If you can’t break it with a gun, use a cannon. If one thing doesn’t work, son, try another, and another again until whatever your enemy lies dead at your feet.” My father had always been the wisest of my teachers, in his own way. I focused my biotics not outward, but allowed the manifestation into my body. My limbs acted like a puppet’s, controlled by the strings of my mind. I pulled myself to my feet and faced the man, taking my stance. He snapped his head towards me and jolted with surprise. His body tightened with anger. “I don’t know how you got up again, beast, but I’ll make you regret it.” He charged at me, sword point low, aiming for another thrust. I swiped the blade to the side with my hand and launched a savage kick at his stomach. My Asari teacher had taught me how use my biotics to heighten myself physically, but this went far beyond that. My body was merely the tool my biotics had taken possession of, and no amount of muscle could compare to that unleashed energy. The man went flying, bouncing along the ground for nearly thirty feet. I reset my stance and waited. He pushed himself to his feet. His armor was dented at a clearly uncomfortable angle, and I had no doubt that I’d broken several of his ribs. His will was impressive. “Give up,” I called to him, “You are no match for me.” He took off his helmet and threw it away revealing a young human male with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes. Despite his age, his face was marred by scars and burns. He’d experienced a lot of pain, and as I’d learned, pain is the precursor to strength. This man was not dead yet. He spat on the ground, clearing his mouth of the blood that I knew was pooling in his lungs. “Your biotics are amazing,” he told me, leaning on the sword. He took a wheezing gasp for breath. “I’ve seen Asari Matriarchs with less power than you.” “Thank you,” I replied, “but you are mistaken. My powers are no more than that of a normal Krogan, they are simply more focused.” He gave me a blank look. Maybe he didn’t understand what I’d said, or maybe he was severely concussed. Probably both. I thought it best to explain. I held and continue to hold a firm belief that no one should die stupid. “I take the time before I fight to find the power and amplify it. Like sunlight focused through a magnifying lense.” He smiled. “I see, I see, so you’re focusing all of it through your body right now. You can’t project it or you’d have disintegrated me, right?” I nodded, trying to find his train of thought. “So you can’t produce a real barrier right now.” He smiled grimly and produced a pistol. “Didn’t want to try this before I really knew, y’know. But now that I do, I think it’s time to put you down for good.” He aimed the pistol, his hand surprisingly steady. He pulled the trigger as I fueled my reflexes with now dwindling power. The world slowed. I heard the first shot ring out and watched the piece of tiny piece of metal leave the gun’s barrel. It was strange, no one ever considered the material inside the weapons they used anymore. I took a moment to admire the beautiful little projectile before moving out of its way. I moved slowly too, of course, but I had more than enough time to react. I started moving forward. I could hear Krogan cheering me on from above along with the harsh din of battle. My kinsmen had regained their spirit and fought now against the rest of their oppressors. I brought my mind back to the task at hand as the second shot from the gun rang out, but its trajectory was still the same. The human had not registered my movement yet. I closed to ten feet before he had corrected his aim. He fired again. I was too close to dodge this time, but it would take more than a single shot from a pistol to put down a Krogan. I reached him, snapping his arm and ramming my crest into his head. One should never watch another’s skull explode in slow motion. It is gruesome. Gray matter flew everywhere, some even getting into my eyes. I was appalled and my concentration wavered. My biotics failed. The world spun and started turning black. The last thing I remembered was the entire world turning on its side and the ground smashing into my head. I was alone in darkness. I tried to touch my power but it would not come. I tried to move my arms only to find that I had no arms to move, no body at all. I floated through eternity like that. Complete silence, complete darkness, my consciousness the only thing remaining. So this is the void I told myself. Peaceful. I tried to let myself sink into that peace, become one with it, but I could not. I felt as if something was holding me back, anchoring me. Then it started shaking me. Then yelling at me. “Wake up, you Pyjak loving welp!” Suddenly the pain started flooding back to me, first the two holes in my chest, then the headache I always got after focusing my biotics, and then every other ache I’d acquired over the years. It felt good. I opened my eyes as the darkness receded and took in my surroundings. I lay where I had fallen but Krogan stood over me now. “Ha! He’s awake!” called the Krogan above me. “The Atlas is awake!” More Krogan started to push in on me, speaking over each other, several exchanging credits for lost bets. Each tryed to congratulate me or thank me. Several challenged me to fights. I blocked them out and inspected my body. My sword wound had been treated with medigel, though it would need much more attention before I could consider myself healed. My armor showed sure signs of Krogan first aid, but it could be repaired later. Until then, I was happy to be alive. I took a deep breath of the fresh air, allowing the pain it caused me to reverberate through my body. “Quiet,” I said, speaking softly so as not to further irritate my wound. Pain was fine but I would not risk actually damaging myself further. “The Atlas is speaking!” yelled the Krogan who’d woken me. “Everyone back up and get ready to listen!” I was propped against a rock and the Krogan formed in front of me. There were very few standing and, for the first time, I noted just how many Krogan corpses there were. “You fought,” I said. The Krogan cheered for a moment, then went silent again. “You fought and died to break free of those who would enslave you. You have truly earned your name as True Krogan, for this is what we are now. We are as strong as ever, as proud as ever, and now we are united. For the good of all Krogan; so we will never be tools again, for the good of the galaxy and all those who stand with us. It’s time to return home, warriors. Just remember to take me with you.” I returned to the settlement with the remaining True Krogan. I tried to give my report to Wrex but he refused and audience with me until I was treated properly. I did not see him until he visited me on my third day in the hospital. “Wrex,” I said, acknowledging him with a nod. “Atlas,” he replied, returning the gesture. “I got news of what you did at the True Krogan base. I think you’d better explain yourself for letting a human sneak up like that. .” We shared a laugh. I gave my report as fully as I could, from the time I left the shuttle to the time I returned home. He seemed satisfied, but something was on his mind. “Spit it out, Chief,” I told him. “If you don’t do it now, you’ll sit around in here all day waiting for the right time to tell me.” He nodded. “The human you fought. There have been others with the same uniform popping up all over the galaxy. They’re a threat to the Krogan and I want them gone.” “What do you want?” I asked. “I know some people. I’m going to pull some strings and get you on an N7 team. Then I’ll pull a few bigger strings and get taking those guys out as your main mission. I don’t want one more of those bastards landing on my planets, you got me?” “Yes, chieftain,” I said. “Good, then heal up and get on it. That’s an order.” And with that, he left. I chuckled. Wrex always had been an interesting one, ever since he was little. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and marched towards the door, grabbing my armor on the way. It was time to lift the world again.
I think I'll place little updates as far as posts and whatnot at the end of my chapters, if that's alright. None of them will be very long. First, thanks to you for reading and I hope you're enjoying. Last, as I'll be unable to post for the next two weeks after this one, I'm going to try to get the chapters I would post then up here before I leave. That should be the last member of the team and then the first step into the story! (Hooray! Finally!) Thanks again for reading!
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Post by gregoroverlord on Jul 26, 2012 4:52:08 GMT 1
I held the newly-removed human liver in my hands and thanked the goddess for my thick rubber gloves as bile rose into my throat. The sight before me was hideous.. It wasn’t the blood that was the problem- I could handle blood- it was what we were doing, what I was helping with. I’d wanted to be a doctor, I’d been a doctor, and now I was helping a cartel dissect some poor bastard in a dark alley in an immoral attempt to recover the drugs he’d been body-packing. It was disgusting. I wondered where I’d gone so wrong in my life. I’d gone to school, gotten good grades, started my internship, and then just stopped everything. Why? Because my wretched sister said she’d needed me. “One little job,” she’d said, “that’s it. Then you’re free to do whatever you’d like.” Too bad she’d never told me how illegal the job was. By the time I found out what I’d been helping with, I was in too deep to get out. To think I’d- “Taeira, wake up!” someone snapped, jostling me out of my thoughts. “We’ve got the drugs, drop that shit and let’s go!” I let the fleshy organ fall from my hands and turned to leave, stripping my gloves off as I went. “What’s on your mind, Tye?” one of my teammates asked. I turned to see who it was, but I couldn’t quite place their name. She was a batarian, one of the newer people on my team. The question seemed harmless enough, but I’d learned better. If I starting showing any signs of weakness, I’d have ten people with a foot up my ass and me within an hour; so I told her to fuck off and kept walking. I caught up with the team leader, Sijira- another Asari like me but much older, much more powerful, and not just a little less stable. “We get all of it?” I asked her, trying to keep a level tone despite the horrible nausea that hadn’t quite faded yet. “All of it that we could,” she replied, “One of the sacks was burst. Whoever shot our runner owes us a lot of money right now.” I nodded, mulling over the implications of the situation. “Any idea yet on who it was?” “Not a one,” Sijira replied, “but when I find ‘im, I’ll tear off pieces of his body he didn’t even know he had.” I backed off putting some distance between me and the crazy bitch. You didn’t mess with Sijira when she got in that kind of mood. She wasn’t kidding about ripping off body parts and she wasn’t exaggerating either. I’d once seen her use her biotics to tear a rachni’s poison sack out through its eyes. It wasn’t a pretty sight. A couple other members of my group came up on either side of me and asked me what our next step was. They were all too afraid to talk to Sijira directly so the task had fallen to me. “We report back to Kesyris and receive our orders, like we always do,” I told them, being careful to name her without implying any relationship between us. I’d only made the mistake of saying that we were sisters once and it had gotten me beaten so bad that I couldn’t use biotics for a month. It was a lesson I’d learned well. “Why don’t we take some initiative, for once?” one of them, a veteran human man named Jhatan, asked. “We know what we want; let’s go fucking take it! We go out, find the guy who shot our runner, and take what he owes us out of his corpse!” I shot him my best glare, but it didn’t do much good. I’d never been the intimidating sister. “What the fuck you gonna do, bitch?” Jhatan said, shoving me. I slapped his hands away but he pressed closer, pushing into my face. His breath was foul, his face unshaven, and his skin visibly greasy. He disgusted me. It wasn’t my place to shoot him though. Sijira didn’t like it when her squadmates started killing each other. It robbed her of the fun, I guess. I gave Jhatan a shove, knocking him away, and when he looked at me again, I could see his toxic fury in his eyes. The man was a psychopath; I doubted he’d have any qualms about killing me. He took a step towards me, activating his omnitool and sharpened it. “You’re gonna pay for that, ya little bitch. I’m gonna cutchu up real nice!” Jhatan charged. I didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, and didn’t bother trying to defend myself. Like I’d said, Sijira didn’t like her squadmates killing each other. Jhatan hadn’t moved three meters before there was a flash of blue and he was dangling upside-down by his ankles. “What the hell are you doing, Jhatan?” I heard Sijira ask. Her voice was placid, but the undertone of rage was strong. “N-nothin’, boss!” He replied quickly. “Not your lucky night, Jhatan,” she told him, shaking her head with mock disappointment. I’m in a bad mood.” “Please, boss, don’t kill me. I can-” “Shut up, Jhatan, I’m not going to kill you.” Sijira’s words were sharp and bitter, but she dropped Jhatan. He started grovelling the moment he hit the ground, like a dog, on his hands and knees, thanking her over and over again. Sijira wasn’t done yet though. “I said I’m not killing you, Jhatan, that doesn’t mean you’re getting off without punishment.” He looked at her in confusion and she explained with a little smile toying at her lips, “I’m taking your left nut.” There was a horrible ripping sound and Jhatan collapsed in pain, retching on the ground. “Leave him,” Sijira called, beckoning for the rest of the squad to follow her as she left, “he’ll catch up when he can.” I turned away, following the rest of my squad, but I could see him writhing in the dirt behind me, pitiful and weak. I felt sorry for him. I tried to shake it off, telling myself over and over that he’d been planning on killingl me. He didn’t deserve my help, or anybody’s for that matter. My heart wasn’t in it though. I ran back to him and gave him a quick painkiller and something to stabilize his system so he wouldn’t die of shock. It wasn’t a lot, certainly not enough to get him functioning again, but enough to make him more comfortable. I left him with a few credits for a shuttle and the data for a nearby hospital on his omnitool. Explaining everything to the authorities would be his problem- if he wanted good care at least- and I didn’t want my omnitool being ID-ed when I called an ambulance. That done, I caught up with the group and prepared myself for a little family visit.
When we were little, Kesyris had been hateful. She blamed anyone she could for not having the world exactly how she wanted it and she would throw a fit until she got her way. She was the same now, if a little more refined, and right now, her world was not as she wanted it. I stood outside the door when Sijira went in to report,. and through the two, thick layers of metal between us, I could still hear my sister screaming. “Who the fuck killed my runner,” she was asking, and “someone will pay!” was shouted at the top of her lungs. It was embarrassing honestly. Over two hundred years old and still throwing tantrums like a child. The door opened and Sijira literally flew out, thrown by my overacting sister. She hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor. The door slammed shut behind her. “That went well,” I said sarcastically, helping Sijira to her feet. “It’s gone worse,” she replied, rubbing the back of her head. We traded an uneasy chuckle and then a moment of awkward silence. “...So, what’s the plan?” I asked after a few moments. “As if you didn’t hear,” she snorted, “Kesyris said to track down whoever shot our runner. Goddess knows how, but we’ve got to get it done.” She set a pace towards the crew quarters and I fell in behind her. “Want me to dig up some witnesses?” I asked. “Nah, I’ve got a couple guys down there already. They’ll pick up what they can. I’ve got bigger things for you to do.” She’d confused me. “Ma’am?” I asked, hoping for clarification. She rounded on me, stopping me dead in the hall. “There’s a group we’ve been meeting with. They’re calling themselves the Dawnhawks or something stupid like that. Beside the point, you’re going to be our liaison at the next meeting.” “What, why me? Can’t you get some other stooge?” “The other stooge got shot,” she replied coldly. “Turns out, birdy’s got a temper like our lady back there.” “Alright,” I started, feeling my heart rate speed up, “Any advice?” “You can handle yourself, Tye. That’s why I picked you.” She left me standing in the hall. I hated her some days.
The meeting spot sucked. My side was barren. No cover, no escape, no advantages. On their side, the opposite. I could see one person, human female, out there waiting for me, covered in armor and bristling with weapons. I’dve been damn surprised if there weren’t a couple others waiting for me though. There was one light hanging over the otherwise dead room casting a bright circle over the exact center. I stepped into it. “They chose an Asari this time, huh?” she asked harshly, “They just goin’ through the galaxy’s races now or what? They gonna send a Vorcha next?” “Didn’t realize our contact had been so extensive,” I replied, trying not to let my nerves show. “Oh big time, honey,” She bared her teeth in some feral imitation of a smile. I swallowed my fears again and tried to press the meeting forward. “What’re we discussing tonight, honey?” I asked, hoping to hide my anxiety behind a less friendly front. “There was a weapon shipment you guys were bringin’ in for us. We didn’t get it and you’re going to tell me why.” “Our runners have been having some trouble recently,”I told her. “One of our bodypackers was all shot up just last night.” The contact gave a few mirthless chuckles, then drew her pistol and aimed it at me. “I don’t want excuses, you tentacle-headed freak. I want my weapons, but if you can’t get them for me before tonight is over, I’ll have to make do with this one. Got me?” “I got you,” I told her. I took a deep breath. I’d been in fights before but I couldn’t handle them with instinct. I had to think them through, like a game of chess. I marked out each spot where her armor was weak and then set myself into a backwards roll. Shots started ringing out; I charged my barriers; she changed her aim; I drew my pistol; we fired. Hers took me in the chest, mine took hers in the eye.The shot rammed through her brain, smashing through the frontal and parietal lobes, as well as the tops of the temporal, and occipital, before coming out the back of her skull. She dropped and seven other, heavily armored mercs popped out of cover. I charged forward, using my biotics to boost me behind the nearest cover. From there I reached over and grabbed the merc on the other side, tearing him over the wall and slamming him head first onto the ground. His skull disconnected from his spine, his vertebrae fractured four deep. One convulsion, then death. I grabbed the man’s weapon, a top-of-the-line battle rifle, and peeked over my cover. Six left, each aiming at me. Same assault rifles as the first. I dropped back behind cover just as the shot started flying. Four guns stopped suddenly while the other two appeared to switch off between clips. My conclusion: two were laying down cover fire while the others moved up. I opened the assault rifle and started moving wires around, hoping that I remembered my lessons well enough to make it to explode, preferably not in my hands. It seemed like hours that I sat there, clipping and re-clipping wires, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. I called it good sooner than I’d wanted to, but I didn’t have much time.I took a guess as to where my assailants were and threw. There was a moment of stillness in which the world seemed to freeze. I could feel the sweat running down my back and see each shot that had been fired over my head, then the ground shook with an explosion and the firing stopped. Hypothesis: oversaturated pigment in the eyes of the shooters; torn muscles, intense bleeding, and severe burns on those within the blast range. I popped out of cover and started firing. Coup de gras on the four who were prone, but my hands weren’t steady and almost half my clip ended up just digging holes in the ground. I didn’t have time to worry about my bad aim, the two shooters would be recovering soon. I leapt over the wall and started moving forward, but I didn’t know where the last two were. I got lucky though, one of them started crawling. I stood over him and pulled the trigger. Shot through the base of the skull, medulla oblongata and cerebellum destroyed. Then I heard something from behind me; the report of an assault rifle. My barriers fell, my armor didn’t hold. A white hot pain cascaded over my back, pushing all the way through. I tried to look past the pain, feel where I’d been shot, instead of just feeling the pain. To my knowledge, there were no lethal shots. but I knew that that would quickly be remedied. The stepped out of cover, preparing to finish me off. “If it’s any consolation,” he said quietly, “you fought better than anyone else in your little cartel.” “And yet she still isn’t the best of us.” My eyes shot wide at the sound of my sister’s voice. The merc whipped around, aiming at the new threat. His first arm was torn off before he’d had the chance to pull the trigger, the second followed quickly. He dropped to his knees in pain and looked as if he’d collapse, but something held him up. Kesyris stepped into my line of sight, her biotic energy wrapping around her like cold fire. She channeled it to her fist and smashed in the merc’s head. Blood and guts flew everywhere as her arm carried through, finally coming to a halt an inch deep into the ground. Kesyris stood and paced over to me, extending a hand to help me up. I managed to choke out, “Can’t move, holes in my arms.” She knelt down, tutting a little, and started applying medigel. She wasn’t good at it, mostly just glopped it on wherever there was blood, but medigel didn’t require much and I could feel the pain ebbing. “I heard Sijira sent my baby sis out to this shithole of a killing ground,” she told me. Her voice was strange, more friendly than I’d heard it since we were little. “I Thought I had to step in for once.” She pulled my arm over her shoulder and we started out. “Good damn job, sis,” she said while I gritted my teeth in pain. Her voice had changed to its regular tone as she continued, “Killed six of ‘em on your own. I’m impressed. Y’like it?” The question perturbed me. “No,” I spat, my voice weak I hated it. I’m supposed to save lives, Kess. I’m supposed to be a doctor.” “Sure, sugar, but how ‘bout I offer you the chance to save some people by killing guys like that? Guys exactly like that, actually.” She paused like she was waiting for a response before finally saying, “I want you to kill all of the Dawnhawks, in case you’re not getting it.” “I get it, Kess. What do you have in mind.” “I’m gonna pressure some people, get you on an N7 team. I’ve heard that the birdies are about to become a priority and I figure, if you put in a request, there’s a good chance you’ll be assigned as one of their hunters. So you go and Ggt a team, then kill every last one. Sound good?” “No,” I spat out, wishing I’d never quit my internship. “But I don’t think I’ve got a choice.” “No, lil sis,” she said, smiling as she hauled me out of the room, “no you don’t.”
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Post by gregoroverlord on Jul 26, 2012 4:53:43 GMT 1
The ship I’d been assigned to was a tiny one, made for speed. It was fewer than a hundred meters long and didn’t need more than a pilot and an engineer to run. I met each of my team as they arrived and now stood with my back against the wall surveying them. One miniscule Vorcha who sat in a corner fondling a piece of scrap metal and muttering to himself, one Krogan...meditating- weird as all hell- and one Asari who looked like she was asleep on her feet. Oh but this was going to be fun. I sighed and waited for the other Asari, Shaolok, to come back. She’d said something about going to get us all officially checked in and then just walked out. “What’s on your mind?” the Asari asked suddenly. I ransacked my mind for a name, but I couldn’t get one. I should’ve read the files better. “Just wondering what our first assignment’s gonna be,” I told her. She nodded and bit her lower lip, her eyes glazing over as she stared at the floor. “You have any thoughts on it?” I asked her, still trying to remember her name. She was too deep in thought though, and didn’t seem as though she’d heard a word I’d said. “Hey,” I said, moving to shake her out of her thoughts, “Hey!” “Taeira.” The Krogan spoke softly, but all of our attention went to him, the Asari’s head snapping up like a whip. Even the Vorcha turned his eyes upwards. “Yes? Did I miss something?” she asked, looking around frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out like that.” “It is fine, Taeira. Fitar merely wanted your attention.” It chagrined me that he seemed to know everyone’s names when I didn’t, but that was a problem I could fix later. I brought my attention back to the present as the Asari turned to me, surprise evident on her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again, looking down out of embarrassment, “We were having a conversation, it was rude of me to-” I held up a hand to stop her. “It’s alright, I just wanted to know what you were thinking about our assignment,” I told her, going back to my spot on the wall. “Well,” she started, “the N7 teams usually get to pick their own assignments, don’t they? Or at least their own focus. Back in the war, they could decide where in the galaxy they wanted to be deployed and whom they would like to fight. I put in a request to go against the Dawnhawks, personally, so-” she stopped abruptly, sealing her lips and turning her eyes to the floor again. I tilted my head in confusion and pushed off of the wall. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she said quickly, “I just thought I was talking too much. I have a tendency to ramble and I didn’t want to alienate my team too much before...” she had started pacing and was motioning widely with her arms. Her eyes were wide and she seemed overwhelmed. I couldn’t suppress a laugh and I heard the Krogan give a snort while a wide, somewhat frightening smile stretching across his reptilian face. The Vorcha seemed to be relaxing a bit now though, in striking contrast with the Asari. His hands were still for the first time since I’d met him and his yellow teeth were slightly more bared at the sides. I took it as a good sign. I stepped up to Taeira and set a hand on her shoulder. “You’re fine,” I told her, trying to give a reassuring smile then remembering she couldn’t see it. Being a quarian was hard sometimes. She settled down with a little smile and went to sit next to the Krogan. I decided to branch out and went to chat with the Vorcha. He’d gone back to muttering to himself and playing with the scrap metal. “Could be new blade. Melt it and reshape it. Melt it and shoot it. So many things to do.” I smirked a little bit; it wasn’t like vorcha to think and I liked the change. I crouched next to him and motioned towards his project. “What’re you working on?” I asked him, trying my best to be amiable. His fiddling stopped and he stared at me with eyes as opened wide. “Ka-er...I-I want to make something,” his eyes opened even wider and he started shaking visibly as he hurriedly added, “Sir! I want to make something, sir!” I struggled to get his name and for once my brain came through for me. “Kalos, is everything alright? You don’t have to be scared of me.” I tried to give him some space; he was breathing too fast and his fingers were turning the piece of metal in his hands so quickly I wouldn’t have been surprised if it burst into flame. “I am okay, sir. I- I do not want to offend new boss.” “Kalos, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about offending me. I can’t be a good squad leader if I have to worry about my team being scared of me.” His breathing slowed down a little bit, but just as I thought I’d started to make some progress, the scrap slipped out of his hand and hit the floor with a striking clatter. Kalos panicked and buried himself deeper into the corner, his hands coming up to his face, his claws tugging at his skin and fur. “Kalos is sorry! Kalos is sorry! Kalos did not mean to! Please do not hurt Kalos! Kalos wants to be a part of the team! Don’t send Kalos back! Please don’t send Kalos back!” Everyone started speaking at once. I was trying to calm Kalos while he screamed his apologies. Taeira grabbed the piece of metal and tried to appease him with it, and the Krogan, damn me for not being able to remember his name, called for everyone to be silent. In all the commotion we never heard the door open. “Kalos,” Shaolok’s voice cut through the air, somehow being clear and audible without her having to shout. Kalos subsided into a quiet whimper and the rest of us hurried back to our original positions throughout the room, our tongues suddenly still and our voices gone. Shaolok went to the shaking Vorcha and wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. “It’s alright, Kalos,” she told him softly, “These are the people I told you about. These are your new family.” Kalos looked around the room again, marking each of us individually. Shaolok went on, never leaving Kalos’ side. “You are the seventy-seventh official N7 team as approved by the council, and you’ve all been assembled here for a reason,” she began, “that being that each of you has recently come into contact with the group presently known as the Dawnhawks. You all, along with five other teams, will have the sole task of hindering this organization in any way. We don’t expect you to topple it, but you’ve been hired to be a thorn in their side. ” “Why is this organization considered such a threat?” I asked, hoping to establish myself in front of my team and prove that I wasn’t completely devoid of thought. “The Citadel Council has passed on their files on that. According to them, the Dawnhawks established themselves near the end of the Apocalypse War, or Reaper War as it’s sometimes known. They were hoping to use the galactic turmoil to overthrow the Council and take power for themselves. As the galaxy is considerably more stable now, it looks like they’re hoping to use all the new tech that popped up instead. They’re proposing a new system of government and trying to herald it with a violent revolution.” Silence hung heavily in the air. It was a big statement and I don’t think any of us really expected something that big. A little cartel, some weapon smugglers, something like that, but we were dealing with an organization intent upon overthrowing the government of the whole damn galaxy. The Krogan especially seemed upset. “Why?” I asked, “Why would they try now? The galaxy is more unified than ever.” “It’s not as bad a plan as you might think,” Shaolok replied. “No one is quite rebuilt yet, governments are weak, and everyone’s resources are going towards recovery instead of military. Not to mention that a lot of people lost faith in the Council during the war and Shepard didn’t restore all of it. A lot of people still think that it’s time for a change.” “It is time for a change,” the Krogan said from where he sat on the ground. “Shalk?” It was Taeira asking, Shaolok merely pursed her lips. Taeira had moved back to her seat next to the Krogan and was now giving him a look completely devoid of understanding. “The galaxy has been at war for ages. Always there has been someone fighting, someone killing. It is time for the galaxy to shift to peace.” Taeira scoffed. “The galaxy won’t change, Shalk,” she told him, “there will always be killing and and fighting. Our team here is evidence for that. All we can affect who does the killing and who does the dying.” The old Krogan nodded, accepting without agreeing. “You may be right, Taeira, but I’m afraid that, while I live as the Atlas of the Krogan, I cannot accept it.” Shalk held everyone’s attention now. Hell, Kalos was so curious that he broke his fear-induced comatose state and actually spoke. “Atlas, you say. Figure in...human mythology? Yes, human mythology. Carried the world on his shoulders, yes? Yes, that is the one. You are the Atlas, then? The Krogan need someone to carry them? Never needed someone before, why now?” Shalk let out a low rumble that I thought might have been a laugh. “You are correct, little Kalos, and you pose a good question. The Krogan are strong, they have never before needed to be carried, but the territory of peace is unfamiliar to many. For this they need a guide.” Kalos quieted again, laying his head on Shaolok’s shoulder as everyone brought their attention to her once more. “You know now what you have been charged with and why,” she stated simply. “The ship is already programmed to take you to your first mission destination. If there are no further questions, I’ll take my leave.” Kalos gave her a grief-stricken look; she responded with a kind smile. “We’ll see each other again, Kalos. Your new family will make sure of it.” Kalos nodded and released her. She left the room casually and once again we descended into silence. Shalk stood, announcing that he “required sustenance” and left the room, and Taeira followed. I went once more to sit next to Kalos. “Are you going to be alright,” I asked him. “Yes, yes, Ka- I will be alright,” he twisted the metal in his hands for a moment, clearly mulling something over. “Feel free to speak, Kalos. We’re family here, remember?” “Yes, yes, family. Er...” he paused again, as if still uncertain if he should speak. “Are you brother or father?” The question caught me off guard. “I- I guess I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I think you can decide.” He looked me up and down quickly but...thoroughly. It gave me a weird feeling, like I was being tested. It was actually somewhat reminiscent of my Spectre exam. “Brother,” he declared after several seconds of deliberation. I grinned and relaxed against the wall. “Can I ask why, Kalos? Why am I the brother?” “Because Krogan is more fatherly,” he said simply. “Ha! I guess I can understand that,” I told him cheerily, satisfied with his logic. When I thought about it, it was pretty obvious. “Alright, little brother, then that’s what we are!” He smiled at me then held out the piece of scrap metal. “What do you think this should be? I can’t decide. Weapon? Ammunition? I don’t know!” “Have you ever considered making it into something that won’t be used to hurt someone?” His confused stare was a clear answer. “Like a swan maybe? Have you ever done any origami or anything?” Another strange look. “Let’s go ask the Patriarch then,” I told him. I put an arm around his hunched shoulders and led him towards the others.
The dining room wasn’t much, a six square meter room with a low ceiling and vibrant white, plastic tiling, but it had a dependable vendor at the far wall and a sturdy table in the center, at which Taeira and Shalk were both sitting, immersed in conversation. “I’m telling you, Shalk, it wouldn’t work! I know from experience that it’s impossible.” “Experience you say, and when did you acquire this experience?” The Asari turned purple at Shalk’s response, but she held her ground. “That’s not something I’m going to tell you!” Shalk suddenly rounded on me, firing off the question I assumed he’d first asked Taeira. “Fitar, if an Asari could mate with any species, do you not think she would be able to mate with non-sentient organisms?” And I’d thought Kalos’ question about family had caught me off guard. “Not even going there,” I told him as I sat at the table next to him; Kalos sat across from me, placing his scrap metal on the table and staring at it intently. Shalk looked like he was going to take up the topic with Taeira again, but Kalos spoke up first. “Mother, what should I make out of this?” Shalk and Taeira traded looks of concern and confusion and I felt the need to explain. “Since we’re all family, Kalos is assigning us rolls.” “And I’m the mother?” Taeira asked in shock. Kalos nodded, speaking without ever taking his eyes off of the scrap. “Yes, Quarian-Fitar is big brother so Krogan-Shalk is father. You and Krogan-Shalk argue like mother and father and so you are mother.” I laughed again, placing my elbows on the table and resting my head on my criss-crossed fingers. The entire situation was absurd. I was going to fight and die alongside these people and we were playing house. It was almost like actually having a family again. I quickly turned myself away from that train of thought and rejoined the world, telling them that I could see no flaw in his logic. I couldn’t say how, but Taeira managed to turn her blue cheeks a dark rouge with a blush. She coughed and turned away from Shalk who let out a resounding Krogan laugh. Kalos smiled like a child, which, to be completely honest, looked both horrifying and adorable on his rodent-like face. “Why can’t you have two fathers? Or why couldn’t I be your sister?” she asked the little Vorcha, who had once again begun playing with his metal. “Don’t want two fathers and you speak to father like a mother, not like a sister” he told her bluntly, which would have been enough for me, but he continued. “Also, Krogan and quarian, not compatible. Not compatible at all. Biological errors.” Shalk and I gave each other a look in the moment that followed, then both burst out laughing. My ribs were aching by the time the fit had subsided and I would’ve had to wipe my eyes if my suit didn’t wick away excess moisture. Shalk was the first to speak after it all. “So, Taeira,” he asked her, “what do you think Kalos should make out of that metal.” “I said he should make it into a swan,” I said while she was thinking. I got curious looks from around the table. I was surprised that Taeira had never heard of the creature, but even more surprising was what Shalk said next. “Ah, yes, origami is what you speak of, yes? The art of paper folding.” I thanked my helmt for hiding my all-too-obvious jaw drop. “But how would he do that with metal?” the Krogan continued. “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, “Welding maybe? Or some kind of tool?” Kalos interrupted us before we could continue. “I still do not understand. What is swan? What is origani?” “Origami,” the Krogan corrected him, then, “I shall demonstrate, if you’d allow.” Shalk held out his hand, silently asking for the piece of metal. Kalos was reluctant at first, but his curiosity overwhelmed him and he gingerly placed the scrap into Shalk’s outstretched palm. There was a sudden white glow around the Krogan and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I could’ve sworn I heard someone whispering but whenever I tried to focus on it, it stopped. Instead I turned my attention to Kalos’ metal, which was now floating an inch above Shalk’s hand and glowing the same ghostly white. As we watched, the metal slowly forced itself, fold by fold, into the shape of an origami swan. Kalos was delighted. “This is swan?” he asked gleefully when the tiny metal bird touched down on his hand. “Crane, technically,” Shalk told him, “but yes. I see that you are pleased.” Kalos nodded so quickly I feared his neck would snap. “Ka- I- I will add it to my tinkering list,” he said with excitement. “Explosives, guns, robots, and cranes!” he held the crane up high above his head as if to show some invisible man on the ceiling his new treasure. When he settled down again, Taeira asked the question that I knew had been nagging at us all. “Kalos, what happened back there? Why the...outburst?” Kalos’ smile faded, twitching back into existence occasionally when he looked at the origami crane. “Not...not a big problem. Just-” he stalled for a second but we all waited. “last time Ka- I was with officers there was....badness. And I didn’t want to be sent back to the badness. Shaolok saved me from the badness once. Don’t know if she’d do it again.” I don’t think any of us really understood what he meant, but I was immediately on his side. I guess had to be; I was his brother after all. “It won’t happen with any of us around,” I assured him. “We’ll look out for you and you’ll look out for us, sound good?” Kalos nodded and his smile returned. We all made sure to enjoy that moment, our first real time spent as a team. We were pleased. When all was said and done though, I knew that we still had a mission waiting for us. I pushed myself out of my chair and told everyone that I was going to tell our pilot to start heading to our first destination. Kalos immediately rushed off to start his tinkering and the Krogan said he would start meditating soon. Taeira said that she had some calls she had to make to family and that she would probably stay in the dining room. I noted where each of them went and set out, it was time to really and truly begin.
As I promised, the two chapters that I won't be able to update while I'm travelling. I hope my rush doesn't show too much in the writing, but i can always come back and edit them if it does. Thanks for reading!
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