The Final Frontier 2b/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 17:25:13 UTC
As a C-Sec investigator, Garrus spent most of his days finding and analyzing evidence (which he enjoyed) and filing reports about it (which he did not). These days he’d been following a frustratingly elusive trail related to the appearance of a new form of drug that had spread among the Wards. While small doses led mostly to pleasant feelings and erotic hallucinations, giving the drug an enthusiastic user base, prolonged exposure to the substance led to more unpleasant physiological responses. Specifically, the drug acted like some kind of hyper-adrenaline, forcing the body into overdrive while disregarding normal physiological needs like hunger, thirst or sleep. There were already over a dozen cases of drug users who’d abused the substance to the point of death. And C-Sec already had more than its share of twitchy, horny, sleep-deprived addicts currently undergoing forced detoxification in a special holding area.
Garrus’ current assignment was to locate and eliminate the supplier. After a frustrating week of undercover investigation, analyzing off-world credit transactions and decrypting classified data streams, he had finally seen a pattern begin to emerge. And now, he’d finally found the trail that had led to this volus - Pitne For, according to the C-Sec civilian database. It was unlikely that Pitne For was the supplier himself, but more likely a financial partner in the scheme, and Garrus needed Pitne For’s records to finally get to the drug’s source.
Now, he was here, in position, and Pitne For was coming down the hall alone. It was time for some real answers. Through the scope, Garrus’ ice blue eyes noted the volus’ jerky movements and nervous breathing. Garrus’ facial plates, splashed with his cobalt family markings, shifted into an anticipatory grin. All his work was about to pay off.
This, thought Garrus, was the best part about being a C-Sec agent.
As Pitne For strode by, Garrus stood up to his full six-and-a-half foot height, rifle still trained on the volus’ head. “Freeze and put your hands up in the air.”
Pitne For froze, and his hands shot up. Garrus slowly stepped out from around the crates. The volus’ breaths had suddenly gotten a lot shallower. Garrus gave a casual tilt of his head. “C-Sec,” he identified himself.
“Um…” the volus wheezed. “H-hello. C-can I help you, officer?”
“You can help me by handing over that omni-tool.”
“O-oh…umm…” the volus floundered.
At that moment, Pitne For’s omni-tool rang loudly with an incoming call. The ringtone was the theme from Blasto the Jellyfish Stings, Garrus noted absently. The volus stared up at him in terror.
“You gonna answer that?” Garrus asked, smirking.
“Uh…” the volus’ finger crept towards the button and pushed it hesitantly. At once, an angry and distinctly batarian voice came over the omni-tool’s sound system.
“Clarification?! What do you need clarification for, volus? All you need to know is - “
“Sorry, bad time!” Pitne For immediately slammed his finger down on the button again, ending the call. Then, panicking, he began to run for it.
Garrus rolled his eyes and raised the rifle back to his shoulder, sighting through the scope. Volus envirosuit failures could be catastrophically fatal, and Garrus was not aiming to kill; just to - well, slow the volus down a little bit and prevent him from running off. It was a well-known fact that once a volus fell down, it took an exceedingly long time for him to get up again - enough time for Garrus to snap a pair of C-Sec issued handcuffs around the short arms. So, concussive rounds only. Garrus watched with satisfaction as the center of the volus’ squat body lined up perfectly in the crosshairs.
The Final Frontier 2c/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 17:26:16 UTC
But Pitne For’s panic made him clumsy, and the volus unexpectedly slipped on the smooth tile. By this time, Garrus’ finger had already depressed the rifle’s trigger. The concussive round burst forth from the mouth of the gun. And as Pitne For overbalanced, hands flailing wildly in the air, the round just missed the flat of the volus’ back - only to collide with his left wrist, smashing straight into the omni-tool’s controls.
The volus wailed in shock and terror as the omni-tool exploded.
“Oh, crap,” Garrus muttered. This was not good. He had just violated the first rule of C-Sec Investigations: do not tamper with the evidence.
Well, the evidence had just exploded right in front of his face.
The Final Frontier 2d/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 17:38:40 UTC
Two Hours Later
“What do you mean, you let him go?!”
Executor Pallin looked down at Garrus coolly. “I’m sorry, Officer Vakarian, but given the lack of evidence, we could not justify holding him in custody. Consequently, we’ve released him.”
Garrus’ fists clenched. “I spent the last week on that case,” he snarled. “All the financial trails pointed to him and his partner. I was this close to uncovering the supplier!”
“Well, thanks to you, we have no actual proof. You actually destroyed the evidence,” Pallin spat. “Do you know what an embarrassment this is?”
“It was a freak accident. You couldn’t have held him for questioning, at least? He was a prime suspect!”
Pallin was shaking his head with exasperation. “Vakarian, this has the potential to be a public relations nightmare for C-Sec. For all intents and purposes, you shot an unarmed civilian on a whim. We are extremely lucky that he has agreed not to go to the media with this debacle."
“And now he’s going to run off to Omega or Illium, and we’re going to have to start from scratch, just because you were afraid of bad press!” Garrus retorted, subharmonics rumbling with rage.
“That’s enough, Officer Vakarian!” Pallin reprimanded sharply. “This is not the first time that you’ve exhibited this kind of reckless behavior. Such conduct is unbecoming of a C-Sec officer and needs to be addressed. Your assignment is going to be transferred to another investigator and you are going to be removed from the field and assigned to guard duties.”
“What?!” Garrus hissed, mandibles flaring in agitation. Guard duty was the C-Sec equivalent of mess hall cleaning, or washing lavatories. It was incredibly embarrassing for a member of Investigations to be reduced to guard duty. With his luck, he’d be stuck standing outside the detox ward, watching the very people he would have helped had that idiot volus not slipped.
“I’m sorry, Vakarian,” Pallin said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’ll be reporting in first thing tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”
This, thought Garrus, was the worst part about being a C-Sec agent.
-
a!a - TBD, as our survivor from chapter one is brought in next! thanks for reading!
The Final Frontier 2e/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 21:46:56 UTC
Evening found Garrus at the shooting range, emptying rounds into a volus-shaped paper target. There was something comforting and mindless about shooting; the familiar weight and heft of the rifle, its reassuring solidness against his shoulder, the satisfaction of the explosion as the bullet sped through the air. What Garrus really wanted was to give Pitne For a solid punch to the face, but the gun range was an adequate option for stress relief when nothing else was available.
It wasn’t even close to the first time he’d been reprimanded by Executor Pallin, but it was the first time he’d been relegated to guard duty as a punishment. The insult rankled. Trainees who fumbled and accidentally dropped their guns down laundry chutes were given guard duty. First-years who got themselves caught on camera going overboard at night clubs were given guard duty. Investigators like Garrus Vakarian did not get put on guard duty. But worst of all, the drug supplier was still at large. And as of tomorrow, Garrus was going to be standing in front of a door twiddling his talons while more lives were ruined.
A wave of rage came over him and he began firing into the paper volus’ head. Ten shots sounded in succession before the click of an empty magazine. Garrus looked up at the target; ten shots, and just one smoking hole to show for them. He smirked, patting his rifle.
A sound from his omni-tool got his attention, and he glanced down at his wrist. It was Chellick, one of his colleagues. Flicking the safety on his gun, he set the rifle aside and glanced down. “Chellick? What’s going on?”
“Vakarian, hey. Sorry for the interruption, but we need you down here at the Academy ASAP. I know you’re not scheduled to be on duty until tomorrow morning, but something’s come up.”
Garrus immediately began to pack away his sniper rifle. “What’s going on?”
“Nihlus is back, and apparently he’s found something strange.”
“Nihlus?” Garrus’ subvocals thrummed in confusion. Nihlus was a Council Spectre, and C-Sec generally didn’t play well with Spectres. “What does Nihlus have to do with us?”
“Don’t know the details yet. But Nihlus brought back something, and the Council wants us to be involved in case it becomes a security hazard.”
“Great.” He remembered briefly the last time this happened. An asari Spectre had tried to bring a pyjak onto the Citadel, claiming it was a pet. She’d run into trouble with C-Sec Customs, of course, but the pyjak was eventually allowed in her personal apartments (on Spectre authority, of course). Mere hours later it escaped, and ended up being a menace, raising public health concerns due to the souvenirs it generously left behind wherever it went. For weeks, shops reported thefts, mostly of food and small shiny items, like wing nuts, rings and the occasional weapon part. (Garrus suspected that part of the rise in thievery rates had also been due to real thieves blaming the pyjak for their own crimes.) Ultimately the rogue pyjak was hunted down and shot by another Spectre, thankfully taking the issue out of C-Sec’s hands. “Did they say what they wanted me for?” Garrus asked Chellick as he exited the shooting range.
Chellick coughed. “Ah…um, well, they needed a guard, and Pallin said that you’re up next for guard duty.”
The Final Frontier 2f/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 21:49:13 UTC
To his surprise, when he arrived at C-Sec Academy, the entire Council was present, along with the Executor and a handful of other senior C-Sec agents, including Chellick. Must be serious, Garrus thought, exchanging greetings with his colleagues. He met Executor Pallin’s gaze somewhat defiantly, but Pallin simply gave a brisk nod back; he was all business.
Looking around, Garrus noticed another unexpected person - a salarian in a white lab coat typing furiously on his omni-tool in the corner. Dr. Mordin Solus, if Garrus remembered correctly. Currently the salarian was doing xenobiology research on the Citadel, but according to his file, he was also a former STG member.
And then Nihlus entered, and most of the chatter stopped. The Spectre’s expression was grim - when did Nihlus ever not look grim? Garrus wondered distractedly - and he briskly saluted the Council before turning to address the expectant group.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Nihlus began. “First of all, this is highly classified, and I need each and every one of you to behave with the utmost discretion until the situation is resolved.”
Garrus gave his assent along with the others. His curiosity was growing by the moment.
Nihlus began to pace as he spoke. “As some already know, several days ago, I took a ship out to the Arcturus system on some reports of batarian slaver activity. We found that the Arcturus relay had been activated against Council orders.” He waited for the disquieted murmuring to fade before continuing. “With permission, we traversed the relay. On the other side, we discovered a disabled spacecraft that had clearly been attacked by batarians. And on that ship, we found a survivor. We rescued the survivor, salvaged as much tech and supplies as we could, and returned approximately one hour ago.”
Batarians…bad news, Garrus thought. He thought briefly of the batarian voice that he’d heard coming from Pitne For’s omni-tool earlier. Batarians were notoriously aggressive and had been banned permanently from the Citadel after numerous colony raids. While most batarian civilians remained on Khar’shan, a significant population of pirates, slavers, mercenaries and smugglers maintained operations in the Terminus Systems. Seeing them anywhere else was already a matter of concern. But having them opening dormant relays and attacking ships… Definitely bad news.
“There’s one other issue, and this is why many of you were asked to come here,” Nihlus was saying. “The ship that we encountered through the relay was nothing like we’d seen before. It belonged to an entirely different species. And the survivor I brought back is one of them.”
“By the Spirits,” Garrus breathed, as the Council exploded with questions. An entirely new species. It had been decades since the last discovery, and he knew from galactic history that not all first encounters ended well.
Councilor Sparatus was shaking his head, subharmonics flanging in disapproval. “That was unnecessarily risky, Nihlus,” he said. “We don’t even know what it is. Do you realize you could have endangered everyone on the Citadel by bringing it here?”
“With all due respect,” Nihlus replied stonily, “it was close to death. I judged the danger to be minimal. Otherwise we would have shot it and instead brought back a corpse for Mordin here to study.”
“Living organism much preferred,” Dr. Solus interjected in the brisk manner typical of salarians. “Corpse still useful for study, but comparatively uninteresting.”
“And what do you propose we do with this…specimen?” Councilor Valern asked.
Nihlus gestured to Dr. Solus. “Mordin has already done a preliminary scan. He’s got it stabilized and resting. Mordin?”
“Certainly,” Dr. Solus said eagerly. And with a few swipes on his omnitool, he projected an image.
The Final Frontier 2g/?
anonymous
July 30 2012, 21:51:36 UTC
The scene was clearly from Dr. Solus’ lab, where the survivor lay on an observation table. Someone had covered its torso with a sheet, but Garrus was surprised to see from its general shape that it more or less resembled a discolored asari - fleshy skin with no scales or plating, and similar overall proportions. Unlike the asari, however, it was strangely pale in color, and clearly red-blooded from the pink tinge under the skin. Interestingly, there were two funny wrinkled structures on the sides of its head. But strangest of all…
“What’s wrong with its fringe?” Garrus said under his breath.
Next to him, Chellick snorted. “I was thinking the same thing. What in the world is that stuff?”
The creature had something growing from its head, but it seemed to be thousands of thin, floppy threads of…what, exactly? Garrus wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t see well from the projected image. The strands were clearly flexible and looked hopelessly tangled, matted with the survivor’s dark, dried blood.
“Two-eyed biped,” Dr. Solus was saying. “DNA composed of levo-amino acids. Bone density and tissue readings indicate compatibility with gravitational force and atmospheric composition of Citadel. Highly developed brain structure suggests advanced intellect and emotional development. Digestive, respiratory, endocrine and nervous systems analogous to asari. Should be able to survive on standard levo-amino food. Few special adaptations necessary.”
“What’s its current condition?” Councilor Tevos asked.
“Currently unconscious. Recovering from extensive external and internal injuries following altercation with batarian attackers.” Dr. Solus brought up a chart and began reading off the injuries. Garrus tuned him out while continuing to study the strange creature. Aside from the mysterious head structures and the odd color, he thought, it honestly didn’t look very different. He wondered what the asari must have thought when they first discovered the hanar or elcor. This was nothing compared to what that must have been like.
“…fractured left ulna, two fractured ribs and numerous contusions,” Dr. Solus finished.
“And how long until it recovers?” Valern asked.
“Difficult to predict,” Dr. Solus admitted. “Body lacking in recuperative cybernetic implants. Suspect specimen lacks accelerated regenerative ability, as only small improvement made in past several hours. Could be weeks before full functionality restored.”
“Most importantly,” Sparatus interjected, “how likely is this creature going to turn and attack us the moment it wakes up?”
There was a moment of uneasy silence. Garrus glanced at the image of the body again. It certainly didn’t look dangerous, but looks were often deceptive. As a C-Sec officer, he’d seen that firsthand repeatedly.
“Impossible to say for certain,” Dr. Solus answered. “Teeth nearly all blunt. Suggests specimen is omnivorous and likely less predisposed to predatory behavior than carnivorous apex predators.” Dr. Solus shot a meaningful glance at Sparatus’ own razor-sharp turian teeth. “Also, scan of brain chemicals suggests extensive biological impulses for socialization and cooperation. Can continue to observe interactions after specimen awakens.”
Nihlus lifted his hand. “If I may,” he said. “Councilors, this is a rare opportunity. Having rescued this survivor will make cooperation with the rest of its species easier, at least initially.”
Councilor Tevos nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “If this new species is to be integrated, it would be best to start positively.” Out of all of them, she was the one who’d probably seen the most firsthand, given her lifespan.
“But is it a danger?” Sparatus looked straight at Nihlus. “We don’t want another instance of rachni, yahg, or even krogan. The last thing we want is some pushy species expanding uncontrollably over the galaxy.”
The Final Frontier 2h/2h
anonymous
July 30 2012, 21:54:47 UTC
Garrus couldn’t help himself. The Turian councilor’s hypocrisy was too egregious for him to keep his mouth shut. “Councilors,” he spoke up. Everyone in the room suddenly looked at him. Garrus was momentarily uncomfortable, but forged ahead. “With all due respect…none of us would have found the Citadel in the first place if we hadn’t been trying to expand off our own homeworlds. If this species was capable of building a spaceship, they were undoubtedly interested in expansion. But we clearly don’t have enough information to judge their inclinations as a race.” As an investigator, Garrus knew that making a call based on incomplete information was often foolish - and in this case, they had almost nothing to go on.
Sparatus eyed him sharply, but Tevos and Valern looked thoughtful. Garrus returned the turian Councilor’s glare evenly. “Besides,” Garrus continued, “we already know that this species was unable to defend itself against a batarian attack. C-Sec has successfully handled batarian aggression before. Given that track record, we should be able to handle any threat this particular individual presents.”
Garrus hazarded a glance at Executor Pallin, wondering if he’d presumed too much, but the Executor was nodding in agreement. Nihlus shot him an approving look.
In the end, the Councilors decided to let the survivor remain on the Citadel, recuperating under Dr. Solus’ care. When it eventually woke up, Dr. Solus pointed out, they would need to find a way to communicate. Councilor Tevos said simply that she had a solution for that in mind already. “There is an asari xenoanthropologist that will be trustworthy,” she said. “She’s the daughter of an old friend. She’s currently on Therum. I’ll be in contact with her.”
“In the meantime,” Sparatus added, “this creature will have to be guarded at all times.”
“Officer Vakarian has been already been assigned to it,” Executor Pallin replied.
“How appropriate,” Sparatus noted with a smirk. Garrus bit back a growl.
As the meeting adjourned, Chellick nudged Garrus. “Nice speech, Vakarian. Guess we’ll have you to thank if that thing turns out to be a Yahg in disguise, and goes on a mad rampage all over the Citadel.” Chellick’s words were testy, but his subharmonics revealed that he was joking, and Garrus’ mandibles relaxed. “So…how’d you of all people end up on guard duty?” Chellick asked.
Garrus winced. “Let’s not talk about that so much.”
-
a!a - that's all for today. shepard will wake up in the next chapter. thanks for reading!
The Final Frontier 3a/?
anonymous
July 31 2012, 21:04:58 UTC
It was cold.
Shepard sighed and tried to burrow more fully under the blanket. Blanket? No, it felt like just a thin sheet. She shivered. Had she lost the blanket? Sometimes she accidentally kicked it onto the floor when she slept. She reached over to her side, trying to find the end of the blanket, only to recoil as pain seared her ribs.
Fuck. That hurts. What the…
Shepard’s eyes flew open. Everything came rushing back to her - the strange artifact, the Normandy being attacked, the aliens boarding. The aliens…they’d looked like something out of a nightmare - ugly, four eyed, green skinned - terrifying. And all armed. She’d managed to take out most of the ones who’d been in the room with her, but she’d run out of ammo and one had definitely shot her. After that she couldn’t remember anything. But now…
…oh shit. Where the fuck am I now?
Her eyes scanned the room wildly. It was some sort of prison cell, although a little bigger than the ones on Earth. She was actually on a cot. There were a desk and a chair nearby. She was hooked up by IV to some sort of machine. There was no sign of any of her weapons, or gear, or clothing. In fact, now that she thought about it, except for the extensive bandages covering her torso and limbs, she was completely naked.
Oh, fantastic.
She forced herself to calm down. What about everyone else? Williams, Alenko…did they survive? The crew? Joker? Oh, Joker… There was no way the fragile pilot could have held off the aliens. She should have ordered him onto the escape pod first. She should have…
She didn’t know what else she should have done.
It was easy to give into despair when you didn’t have all the information, she reminded herself. Maybe some of them had made it to the escape pods successfully. The right messages had gone out, although she distinctly remembered seeing Pressly going down, shot in the back of the head just as the transmission finished. Guilt filled her, for given him the order that had caused his death, but at least his actions might have saved some lives. But then she pushed away the guilt and focused. Her first order of business was to figure out where she was, and then get the hell out of here.
She tried to look around for possible exits - and froze.
There was a dinosaur standing outside the door.
No fucking way. I have to be seeing things. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Nope…still there. Where the FUCK am I?
The dinosaur wasn’t moving much. It was standing there like it was supposed to be guarding her door, but she noticed that every so often, its spiked head would loll to the side a little. Was it…asleep?
Despite the situation, Shepard smirked. Guard duty was universally sleep-inducing, it seemed. And now, she had a chance.
Yes, she realized that even if she escaped this one guard somehow, there might be fifty others stationed right around the corner. Plus, she had no idea where to find a ship or how to get back to Earth. At some point she’d need to find food and medicine. But the sleeping guard…the door…
Some would have called her crazy - in fact, many people had called her crazy on numerous occasions - but even naked, weaponless and injured, Shepard was not one to let this kind of opportunity slip by.
Because, she could improvise. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
Garrus’ current assignment was to locate and eliminate the supplier. After a frustrating week of undercover investigation, analyzing off-world credit transactions and decrypting classified data streams, he had finally seen a pattern begin to emerge. And now, he’d finally found the trail that had led to this volus - Pitne For, according to the C-Sec civilian database. It was unlikely that Pitne For was the supplier himself, but more likely a financial partner in the scheme, and Garrus needed Pitne For’s records to finally get to the drug’s source.
Now, he was here, in position, and Pitne For was coming down the hall alone. It was time for some real answers. Through the scope, Garrus’ ice blue eyes noted the volus’ jerky movements and nervous breathing. Garrus’ facial plates, splashed with his cobalt family markings, shifted into an anticipatory grin. All his work was about to pay off.
This, thought Garrus, was the best part about being a C-Sec agent.
As Pitne For strode by, Garrus stood up to his full six-and-a-half foot height, rifle still trained on the volus’ head. “Freeze and put your hands up in the air.”
Pitne For froze, and his hands shot up. Garrus slowly stepped out from around the crates. The volus’ breaths had suddenly gotten a lot shallower. Garrus gave a casual tilt of his head. “C-Sec,” he identified himself.
“Um…” the volus wheezed. “H-hello. C-can I help you, officer?”
“You can help me by handing over that omni-tool.”
“O-oh…umm…” the volus floundered.
At that moment, Pitne For’s omni-tool rang loudly with an incoming call. The ringtone was the theme from Blasto the Jellyfish Stings, Garrus noted absently. The volus stared up at him in terror.
“You gonna answer that?” Garrus asked, smirking.
“Uh…” the volus’ finger crept towards the button and pushed it hesitantly. At once, an angry and distinctly batarian voice came over the omni-tool’s sound system.
“Clarification?! What do you need clarification for, volus? All you need to know is - “
“Sorry, bad time!” Pitne For immediately slammed his finger down on the button again, ending the call. Then, panicking, he began to run for it.
Garrus rolled his eyes and raised the rifle back to his shoulder, sighting through the scope. Volus envirosuit failures could be catastrophically fatal, and Garrus was not aiming to kill; just to - well, slow the volus down a little bit and prevent him from running off. It was a well-known fact that once a volus fell down, it took an exceedingly long time for him to get up again - enough time for Garrus to snap a pair of C-Sec issued handcuffs around the short arms. So, concussive rounds only. Garrus watched with satisfaction as the center of the volus’ squat body lined up perfectly in the crosshairs.
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The volus wailed in shock and terror as the omni-tool exploded.
“Oh, crap,” Garrus muttered. This was not good. He had just violated the first rule of C-Sec Investigations: do not tamper with the evidence.
Well, the evidence had just exploded right in front of his face.
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“What do you mean, you let him go?!”
Executor Pallin looked down at Garrus coolly. “I’m sorry, Officer Vakarian, but given the lack of evidence, we could not justify holding him in custody. Consequently, we’ve released him.”
Garrus’ fists clenched. “I spent the last week on that case,” he snarled. “All the financial trails pointed to him and his partner. I was this close to uncovering the supplier!”
“Well, thanks to you, we have no actual proof. You actually destroyed the evidence,” Pallin spat. “Do you know what an embarrassment this is?”
“It was a freak accident. You couldn’t have held him for questioning, at least? He was a prime suspect!”
Pallin was shaking his head with exasperation. “Vakarian, this has the potential to be a public relations nightmare for C-Sec. For all intents and purposes, you shot an unarmed civilian on a whim. We are extremely lucky that he has agreed not to go to the media with this debacle."
“And now he’s going to run off to Omega or Illium, and we’re going to have to start from scratch, just because you were afraid of bad press!” Garrus retorted, subharmonics rumbling with rage.
“That’s enough, Officer Vakarian!” Pallin reprimanded sharply. “This is not the first time that you’ve exhibited this kind of reckless behavior. Such conduct is unbecoming of a C-Sec officer and needs to be addressed. Your assignment is going to be transferred to another investigator and you are going to be removed from the field and assigned to guard duties.”
“What?!” Garrus hissed, mandibles flaring in agitation. Guard duty was the C-Sec equivalent of mess hall cleaning, or washing lavatories. It was incredibly embarrassing for a member of Investigations to be reduced to guard duty. With his luck, he’d be stuck standing outside the detox ward, watching the very people he would have helped had that idiot volus not slipped.
“I’m sorry, Vakarian,” Pallin said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’ll be reporting in first thing tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”
This, thought Garrus, was the worst part about being a C-Sec agent.
-
a!a - TBD, as our survivor from chapter one is brought in next! thanks for reading!
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It wasn’t even close to the first time he’d been reprimanded by Executor Pallin, but it was the first time he’d been relegated to guard duty as a punishment. The insult rankled. Trainees who fumbled and accidentally dropped their guns down laundry chutes were given guard duty. First-years who got themselves caught on camera going overboard at night clubs were given guard duty. Investigators like Garrus Vakarian did not get put on guard duty. But worst of all, the drug supplier was still at large. And as of tomorrow, Garrus was going to be standing in front of a door twiddling his talons while more lives were ruined.
A wave of rage came over him and he began firing into the paper volus’ head. Ten shots sounded in succession before the click of an empty magazine. Garrus looked up at the target; ten shots, and just one smoking hole to show for them. He smirked, patting his rifle.
A sound from his omni-tool got his attention, and he glanced down at his wrist. It was Chellick, one of his colleagues. Flicking the safety on his gun, he set the rifle aside and glanced down. “Chellick? What’s going on?”
“Vakarian, hey. Sorry for the interruption, but we need you down here at the Academy ASAP. I know you’re not scheduled to be on duty until tomorrow morning, but something’s come up.”
Garrus immediately began to pack away his sniper rifle. “What’s going on?”
“Nihlus is back, and apparently he’s found something strange.”
“Nihlus?” Garrus’ subvocals thrummed in confusion. Nihlus was a Council Spectre, and C-Sec generally didn’t play well with Spectres. “What does Nihlus have to do with us?”
“Don’t know the details yet. But Nihlus brought back something, and the Council wants us to be involved in case it becomes a security hazard.”
“Great.” He remembered briefly the last time this happened. An asari Spectre had tried to bring a pyjak onto the Citadel, claiming it was a pet. She’d run into trouble with C-Sec Customs, of course, but the pyjak was eventually allowed in her personal apartments (on Spectre authority, of course). Mere hours later it escaped, and ended up being a menace, raising public health concerns due to the souvenirs it generously left behind wherever it went. For weeks, shops reported thefts, mostly of food and small shiny items, like wing nuts, rings and the occasional weapon part. (Garrus suspected that part of the rise in thievery rates had also been due to real thieves blaming the pyjak for their own crimes.) Ultimately the rogue pyjak was hunted down and shot by another Spectre, thankfully taking the issue out of C-Sec’s hands. “Did they say what they wanted me for?” Garrus asked Chellick as he exited the shooting range.
Chellick coughed. “Ah…um, well, they needed a guard, and Pallin said that you’re up next for guard duty.”
Garrus groaned. “Be right down.”
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Looking around, Garrus noticed another unexpected person - a salarian in a white lab coat typing furiously on his omni-tool in the corner. Dr. Mordin Solus, if Garrus remembered correctly. Currently the salarian was doing xenobiology research on the Citadel, but according to his file, he was also a former STG member.
And then Nihlus entered, and most of the chatter stopped. The Spectre’s expression was grim - when did Nihlus ever not look grim? Garrus wondered distractedly - and he briskly saluted the Council before turning to address the expectant group.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Nihlus began. “First of all, this is highly classified, and I need each and every one of you to behave with the utmost discretion until the situation is resolved.”
Garrus gave his assent along with the others. His curiosity was growing by the moment.
Nihlus began to pace as he spoke. “As some already know, several days ago, I took a ship out to the Arcturus system on some reports of batarian slaver activity. We found that the Arcturus relay had been activated against Council orders.” He waited for the disquieted murmuring to fade before continuing. “With permission, we traversed the relay. On the other side, we discovered a disabled spacecraft that had clearly been attacked by batarians. And on that ship, we found a survivor. We rescued the survivor, salvaged as much tech and supplies as we could, and returned approximately one hour ago.”
Batarians…bad news, Garrus thought. He thought briefly of the batarian voice that he’d heard coming from Pitne For’s omni-tool earlier. Batarians were notoriously aggressive and had been banned permanently from the Citadel after numerous colony raids. While most batarian civilians remained on Khar’shan, a significant population of pirates, slavers, mercenaries and smugglers maintained operations in the Terminus Systems. Seeing them anywhere else was already a matter of concern. But having them opening dormant relays and attacking ships… Definitely bad news.
“There’s one other issue, and this is why many of you were asked to come here,” Nihlus was saying. “The ship that we encountered through the relay was nothing like we’d seen before. It belonged to an entirely different species. And the survivor I brought back is one of them.”
“By the Spirits,” Garrus breathed, as the Council exploded with questions. An entirely new species. It had been decades since the last discovery, and he knew from galactic history that not all first encounters ended well.
Councilor Sparatus was shaking his head, subharmonics flanging in disapproval. “That was unnecessarily risky, Nihlus,” he said. “We don’t even know what it is. Do you realize you could have endangered everyone on the Citadel by bringing it here?”
“With all due respect,” Nihlus replied stonily, “it was close to death. I judged the danger to be minimal. Otherwise we would have shot it and instead brought back a corpse for Mordin here to study.”
“Living organism much preferred,” Dr. Solus interjected in the brisk manner typical of salarians. “Corpse still useful for study, but comparatively uninteresting.”
“And what do you propose we do with this…specimen?” Councilor Valern asked.
Nihlus gestured to Dr. Solus. “Mordin has already done a preliminary scan. He’s got it stabilized and resting. Mordin?”
“Certainly,” Dr. Solus said eagerly. And with a few swipes on his omnitool, he projected an image.
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“What’s wrong with its fringe?” Garrus said under his breath.
Next to him, Chellick snorted. “I was thinking the same thing. What in the world is that stuff?”
The creature had something growing from its head, but it seemed to be thousands of thin, floppy threads of…what, exactly? Garrus wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t see well from the projected image. The strands were clearly flexible and looked hopelessly tangled, matted with the survivor’s dark, dried blood.
“Two-eyed biped,” Dr. Solus was saying. “DNA composed of levo-amino acids. Bone density and tissue readings indicate compatibility with gravitational force and atmospheric composition of Citadel. Highly developed brain structure suggests advanced intellect and emotional development. Digestive, respiratory, endocrine and nervous systems analogous to asari. Should be able to survive on standard levo-amino food. Few special adaptations necessary.”
“What’s its current condition?” Councilor Tevos asked.
“Currently unconscious. Recovering from extensive external and internal injuries following altercation with batarian attackers.” Dr. Solus brought up a chart and began reading off the injuries. Garrus tuned him out while continuing to study the strange creature. Aside from the mysterious head structures and the odd color, he thought, it honestly didn’t look very different. He wondered what the asari must have thought when they first discovered the hanar or elcor. This was nothing compared to what that must have been like.
“…fractured left ulna, two fractured ribs and numerous contusions,” Dr. Solus finished.
“And how long until it recovers?” Valern asked.
“Difficult to predict,” Dr. Solus admitted. “Body lacking in recuperative cybernetic implants. Suspect specimen lacks accelerated regenerative ability, as only small improvement made in past several hours. Could be weeks before full functionality restored.”
“Most importantly,” Sparatus interjected, “how likely is this creature going to turn and attack us the moment it wakes up?”
There was a moment of uneasy silence. Garrus glanced at the image of the body again. It certainly didn’t look dangerous, but looks were often deceptive. As a C-Sec officer, he’d seen that firsthand repeatedly.
“Impossible to say for certain,” Dr. Solus answered. “Teeth nearly all blunt. Suggests specimen is omnivorous and likely less predisposed to predatory behavior than carnivorous apex predators.” Dr. Solus shot a meaningful glance at Sparatus’ own razor-sharp turian teeth. “Also, scan of brain chemicals suggests extensive biological impulses for socialization and cooperation. Can continue to observe interactions after specimen awakens.”
Nihlus lifted his hand. “If I may,” he said. “Councilors, this is a rare opportunity. Having rescued this survivor will make cooperation with the rest of its species easier, at least initially.”
Councilor Tevos nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “If this new species is to be integrated, it would be best to start positively.” Out of all of them, she was the one who’d probably seen the most firsthand, given her lifespan.
“But is it a danger?” Sparatus looked straight at Nihlus. “We don’t want another instance of rachni, yahg, or even krogan. The last thing we want is some pushy species expanding uncontrollably over the galaxy.”
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Sparatus eyed him sharply, but Tevos and Valern looked thoughtful. Garrus returned the turian Councilor’s glare evenly. “Besides,” Garrus continued, “we already know that this species was unable to defend itself against a batarian attack. C-Sec has successfully handled batarian aggression before. Given that track record, we should be able to handle any threat this particular individual presents.”
Garrus hazarded a glance at Executor Pallin, wondering if he’d presumed too much, but the Executor was nodding in agreement. Nihlus shot him an approving look.
In the end, the Councilors decided to let the survivor remain on the Citadel, recuperating under Dr. Solus’ care. When it eventually woke up, Dr. Solus pointed out, they would need to find a way to communicate. Councilor Tevos said simply that she had a solution for that in mind already. “There is an asari xenoanthropologist that will be trustworthy,” she said. “She’s the daughter of an old friend. She’s currently on Therum. I’ll be in contact with her.”
“In the meantime,” Sparatus added, “this creature will have to be guarded at all times.”
“Officer Vakarian has been already been assigned to it,” Executor Pallin replied.
“How appropriate,” Sparatus noted with a smirk. Garrus bit back a growl.
As the meeting adjourned, Chellick nudged Garrus. “Nice speech, Vakarian. Guess we’ll have you to thank if that thing turns out to be a Yahg in disguise, and goes on a mad rampage all over the Citadel.” Chellick’s words were testy, but his subharmonics revealed that he was joking, and Garrus’ mandibles relaxed. “So…how’d you of all people end up on guard duty?” Chellick asked.
Garrus winced. “Let’s not talk about that so much.”
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a!a - that's all for today. shepard will wake up in the next chapter. thanks for reading!
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These cliffies are mean though :(
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And this one is just to die for already! Loving it A!A!
Now i'm off to read today's update, yay!!!
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Shepard sighed and tried to burrow more fully under the blanket. Blanket? No, it felt like just a thin sheet. She shivered. Had she lost the blanket? Sometimes she accidentally kicked it onto the floor when she slept. She reached over to her side, trying to find the end of the blanket, only to recoil as pain seared her ribs.
Fuck. That hurts. What the…
Shepard’s eyes flew open. Everything came rushing back to her - the strange artifact, the Normandy being attacked, the aliens boarding. The aliens…they’d looked like something out of a nightmare - ugly, four eyed, green skinned - terrifying. And all armed. She’d managed to take out most of the ones who’d been in the room with her, but she’d run out of ammo and one had definitely shot her. After that she couldn’t remember anything. But now…
…oh shit. Where the fuck am I now?
Her eyes scanned the room wildly. It was some sort of prison cell, although a little bigger than the ones on Earth. She was actually on a cot. There were a desk and a chair nearby. She was hooked up by IV to some sort of machine. There was no sign of any of her weapons, or gear, or clothing. In fact, now that she thought about it, except for the extensive bandages covering her torso and limbs, she was completely naked.
Oh, fantastic.
She forced herself to calm down. What about everyone else? Williams, Alenko…did they survive? The crew? Joker? Oh, Joker… There was no way the fragile pilot could have held off the aliens. She should have ordered him onto the escape pod first. She should have…
She didn’t know what else she should have done.
It was easy to give into despair when you didn’t have all the information, she reminded herself. Maybe some of them had made it to the escape pods successfully. The right messages had gone out, although she distinctly remembered seeing Pressly going down, shot in the back of the head just as the transmission finished. Guilt filled her, for given him the order that had caused his death, but at least his actions might have saved some lives. But then she pushed away the guilt and focused. Her first order of business was to figure out where she was, and then get the hell out of here.
She tried to look around for possible exits - and froze.
There was a dinosaur standing outside the door.
No fucking way. I have to be seeing things. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Nope…still there. Where the FUCK am I?
The dinosaur wasn’t moving much. It was standing there like it was supposed to be guarding her door, but she noticed that every so often, its spiked head would loll to the side a little. Was it…asleep?
Despite the situation, Shepard smirked. Guard duty was universally sleep-inducing, it seemed. And now, she had a chance.
Yes, she realized that even if she escaped this one guard somehow, there might be fifty others stationed right around the corner. Plus, she had no idea where to find a ship or how to get back to Earth. At some point she’d need to find food and medicine. But the sleeping guard…the door…
Some would have called her crazy - in fact, many people had called her crazy on numerous occasions - but even naked, weaponless and injured, Shepard was not one to let this kind of opportunity slip by.
Because, she could improvise. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
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