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.
The Final Frontier 3b/?
anonymous
July 31 2012, 21:07:23 UTC
She removed the IV from her arm, letting it dangle. Slipping out from under the sheet, she landed silently and slunk down onto all fours, crawling slowly towards the door and steadfastly ignoring the stabbing protests of her injuries. Flattening herself against the wall, Shepard tried the door hesitantly - nope, locked. She searched briefly for a keyhole that she could pick - no, nothing. The door must be secured by some kind of electronic means. Or maybe by alien magic, she thought dryly. She huffed in frustration.
Looking around the room again, she saw the machine that she’d been hooked up to - some kind of monitor. It had to be hooked up to a power source. She moved back towards it. If there was some way she could overload the door…
A scraping noise startled her and she whipped her head around towards the door. Oh shit. The dinosaur had woken up. It seemed like it had scraped the back of its head spikes on the door accidentally.
As Shepard watched, it turned around - and froze, staring at her.
Still crouched down by the base of the machine, she stared right back at him. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the strange body shape - reptilian but with an almost birdlike face. It had a pair of fierce raptor eyes and a set of sharp teeth that wasn’t quite hidden by the...mandibles?...around his jaw. Across the flat planes of its face, there was a blue horizontal stripe, which looked painted on. Below its neck, it was completely armored in blue and black, but from the shape of its gear, it seemed to have a bulky cowl structure around its shoulders. And it had long fingers on each hand tipped with talons. To top it all off, it had a gun strapped to its back.
Okay…bad news…
Luckily, it wasn’t aiming the gun at her - yet. In her gut, Shepard didn’t think it’d actually kill her, at least not until the aliens here got whatever it was they wanted from her. Why else would they have treated her wounds?
To her surprise, the alien lifted a hand slowly. Was it…waving? She was still for a moment, before she hesitantly mirrored the action, wincing at the stab of agony it produced.
She twitched at the sound of the door suddenly opening. It was coming in. Tentative overture of friendship forgotten, she dove for cover immediately, lunging behind the cot and peeking out. The guard stopped moving, watching her. As she crouched there, it moved closer until it was just a few feet away. It waved again, and made a soft, flanged trilling noise, almost like the call of a dove. Then it slowly raised both hands up in what looked like a gesture of peace.
It had left the door open.
With an inhuman effort Shepard managed not to glance at the door, in case she gave herself away.
The creature trilled at her again, and then made a soft purr. It was a strange sound; Shepard unconsciously tilted her head to listen to it. A multi-layered voice? In the language of music, its voice would be a series of pleasant chords, rather than single notes. She studied the creature’s face. It looked ferocious, but at least it wasn’t baring those wicked teeth at her. The blue markings were actually kind of pretty.
She felt a stab of guilt as she made her decision.
“Sorry, Blue,” she whispered. And as the dino-creature tilted its head, distracted by the rough sound of her voice, she grabbed the sheet, leapt over the cot and wrapped it soundly around the its head.
Oh fuck - spikes - forgot about the spikes. After narrowly avoiding getting stabbed by the spikes on its head - which immediately tore holes into the flimsy sheet - she deftly sidestepped around the guard and grabbed its gun. A rifle, she thought with satisfaction. I can do rifles.
And then, she was off, streaking through the door without a backward glance.
Re: The Final Frontier 3b/?
anonymous
July 31 2012, 21:14:16 UTC
I can see this being Sheaprd reaction after what happened...but at the same time I'm worried since this might give ammunition for the theory of her being hostile. Excited for more!
The Final Frontier 3c/?
anonymous
July 31 2012, 22:04:23 UTC
Garrus sat there, in utter shock, head still wrapped in the sheet.
What…the…HELL?
He hissed in frustration, ripping the sheet off from around his neck. A glance backward confirmed it - in his eagerness to approach the little alien, who had woken up for the first time, he’d made a rookie mistake and left the door open. Unsurprisingly, his prisoner had bolted at the first opportunity.
Maybe I do deserve guard duty. What the hell is wrong with you these days, Vakarian? he thought to himself. Then he slammed a finger onto his omni-tool. “Dr. Solus! Did you see that? It’s loose!”
“Yes, currently in pursuit. Interesting. Very intelligent.”
“It won’t get far,” Garrus muttered. The corridors were confusing to those who didn’t work there, and there were several places where the prisoner could be cornered. Garrus hurriedly logged in to access C-Sec’s security footage on his omni-tool, and immediately spotted the pale, bandaged alien in one of the cell blocks, rifle held at the ready. It seemed to be looking into each cell, and was calling out in its strange language, perhaps trying to locate more of its own kind.
“Cell Block D,” he told Dr. Solus, forwarding the coordinates to the salarian. “You get south exit, I’ll get north. It’ll be trapped.”
The priority was to recover the prisoner - preferably relatively unharmed - before other members of C-Sec caught on and the Council was notified. He immediately hacked the appropriate security feeds using his omni-tool, and looped the footage so it seemed like nothing was amiss. Then he grabbed another gun from a storage locker nearby and sprinted towards Cell Block D. When he got there, he noticed a thin trail of red blood on the ground. He followed the trail for some time; the alien seemed to have moved quickly, working around all the cells.
A bullet suddenly whizzed by his ear. Immediately Garrus flattened himself against the wall, scanning his surroundings for cover. He dove into an alcove, his shields flickering out as they were hit.
Okay, this thing’s a good shot, too. What kind of frickin’ creatures are these things? He waited for his shields to regenerate before looking out of the alcove. He couldn’t see it, but he knew the floor plan by heart and had figured out where it had to be hiding. He also knew that the rifle it had stolen off his back only had a few bullets in it. But it doesn’t know that. Maybe I can get it to waste them… He leaned out cautiously, teasing out another shot in his direction that sent his shields fizzling again. He waited and repeated this once more, but it didn’t take the bait. Clearly it had caught on. He shook his head. Smart little thing, he thought, half affectionately and half in exasperation.
Out of other options, Garrus removed a flashbang grenade from his belt and lobbed it in the creature’s direction. In the ensuing confusion, he sprinted towards it and finally found it slumped against a doorway, still clutching the rifle. He took advantage of the last moments of blinding smoke to wrestle the rifle away from it and to snap a pair of handcuffs around the thin, pale wrists. It cried out in protest, reflexively attempting to kick him. Garrus winced in sympathy as its soft, fleshy foot came into jarring contact with his armor. The creature yelped in pain, and then at last, seemed to give up.
“Spirits, finally,” Garrus muttered in relief. “Guard duty is way more work than I thought it would be.” He noticed that fresh red blood was staining the bandage on one of the creature’s sides, and that it was panting in exhaustion, but it still looked up at him defiantly.
Dr. Solus appeared on the opposite end of the hall. The sound of the salarian’s footsteps got the creature’s attention, and it gaped at Dr. Solus in shock, apparently having never seen a salarian before.
“Highly sensitive to adrenal effects,” Dr. Solus commented. “But tiring now. Tore her stitches. Blood loss.”
The Final Frontier 3d/3d
anonymous
July 31 2012, 22:07:43 UTC
“Her?” Garrus asked. “It’s female?” Reflexively he glanced at the prisoner’s body, but then quickly looked away, somewhat embarrassed now knowing that the creature he held captive was a woman. Her waist was exposed.
“Indeed. Studied scans of reproductive organs just prior to escape attempt. Despite superficial bodily resemblance to asari, reproductive system more similar to turians.”
By this time, the alien woman’s eyes had glazed over in exhaustion and her shoulders had slumped in defeat. She looked up at them wearily. Garrus noticed that her limbs were trembling, and strange little bumps had risen on her skin.
Seeing her, Garrus felt a moment of sympathy. If it had been him in the same situation - being attacked by aggressive aliens and left to die, then waking up alone in a room surrounded by other strange aliens - he probably would have reacted the same way, or worse. And, he had to admit that despite the situation, he had enjoyed himself. As an investigator, he didn’t get to spend much time in firefights, and it had honestly been refreshing. The alien woman had certainly been a match, and to Garrus, respect for a worthy opponent transcended species boundaries. If she’d been equally armed and equipped, perhaps the fight would have ended differently.
“Look,” he began, even though he knew she couldn’t understand him. “I know you’re lost and confused. I tried making friends. And after seeing all that, I really hope we can have you on our side, because we can use that kind of tenacity.” She furrowed her brow, seemingly concentrating on his voice, and he made his tone gentle, using the same comforting subvocal that turians often used when addressing young children. “We’re not going to hurt you unless you do something drastic like that again. But you have to cooperate. You’ll be in real danger if the Council hears about this.”
“Yes,” Dr. Solus agreed. “Recommend destruction of security footage immediately. Must not let Councilors learn of this lapse. Sparatus especially.” The salarian crouched down in front of the prisoner, who stared at him dubiously. “Should continue attempting communication. Much to learn from her. Build trust.”
And to Garrus’ shock, Dr. Solus smiled widely at the woman and began to sing.
“My dalatrass’ wishes are consistently peculiar But as a loyal servant I must constantly defer to her…”
It was a song from a classic salarian musical. Garrus vaguely recalled a line in Dr. Solus’ C-Sec file that indicated he’d once performed extensively as a singer. The alien seemed stunned, too, staring like Dr. Solus as if he’d gone insane. And maybe he had, Garrus thought.
Dr. Solus had spread his arms theatrically, closing his eyes in delight as he completed the last verse of the song. By that time, though it seemed she had been fighting it, the woman had broken down into hysterical laughter. As Dr. Solus finished, she clapped her hands stiffly, handcuffs jingling.
Dr. Solus smiled benignly at her. “Have successfully calmed specimen,” he said proudly, addressing Garrus. “Artistic appreciation obviously indicative of advanced cognitive development. May now return to cell. I will clean up blood trail.”
“You sure she wasn’t laughing at you because you looked like an idiot?”
Dr. Solus looked offended. “Appears that your cognitive development may lag behind hers.”
-
a!a - not the end of the chapter, but that's it for today :) thanks for reading!
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.”
Reply
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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Looking around the room again, she saw the machine that she’d been hooked up to - some kind of monitor. It had to be hooked up to a power source. She moved back towards it. If there was some way she could overload the door…
A scraping noise startled her and she whipped her head around towards the door. Oh shit. The dinosaur had woken up. It seemed like it had scraped the back of its head spikes on the door accidentally.
As Shepard watched, it turned around - and froze, staring at her.
Still crouched down by the base of the machine, she stared right back at him. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the strange body shape - reptilian but with an almost birdlike face. It had a pair of fierce raptor eyes and a set of sharp teeth that wasn’t quite hidden by the...mandibles?...around his jaw. Across the flat planes of its face, there was a blue horizontal stripe, which looked painted on. Below its neck, it was completely armored in blue and black, but from the shape of its gear, it seemed to have a bulky cowl structure around its shoulders. And it had long fingers on each hand tipped with talons. To top it all off, it had a gun strapped to its back.
Okay…bad news…
Luckily, it wasn’t aiming the gun at her - yet. In her gut, Shepard didn’t think it’d actually kill her, at least not until the aliens here got whatever it was they wanted from her. Why else would they have treated her wounds?
To her surprise, the alien lifted a hand slowly. Was it…waving? She was still for a moment, before she hesitantly mirrored the action, wincing at the stab of agony it produced.
She twitched at the sound of the door suddenly opening. It was coming in. Tentative overture of friendship forgotten, she dove for cover immediately, lunging behind the cot and peeking out. The guard stopped moving, watching her. As she crouched there, it moved closer until it was just a few feet away. It waved again, and made a soft, flanged trilling noise, almost like the call of a dove. Then it slowly raised both hands up in what looked like a gesture of peace.
It had left the door open.
With an inhuman effort Shepard managed not to glance at the door, in case she gave herself away.
The creature trilled at her again, and then made a soft purr. It was a strange sound; Shepard unconsciously tilted her head to listen to it. A multi-layered voice? In the language of music, its voice would be a series of pleasant chords, rather than single notes. She studied the creature’s face. It looked ferocious, but at least it wasn’t baring those wicked teeth at her. The blue markings were actually kind of pretty.
She felt a stab of guilt as she made her decision.
“Sorry, Blue,” she whispered. And as the dino-creature tilted its head, distracted by the rough sound of her voice, she grabbed the sheet, leapt over the cot and wrapped it soundly around the its head.
Oh fuck - spikes - forgot about the spikes. After narrowly avoiding getting stabbed by the spikes on its head - which immediately tore holes into the flimsy sheet - she deftly sidestepped around the guard and grabbed its gun. A rifle, she thought with satisfaction. I can do rifles.
And then, she was off, streaking through the door without a backward glance.
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What…the…HELL?
He hissed in frustration, ripping the sheet off from around his neck. A glance backward confirmed it - in his eagerness to approach the little alien, who had woken up for the first time, he’d made a rookie mistake and left the door open. Unsurprisingly, his prisoner had bolted at the first opportunity.
Maybe I do deserve guard duty. What the hell is wrong with you these days, Vakarian? he thought to himself. Then he slammed a finger onto his omni-tool. “Dr. Solus! Did you see that? It’s loose!”
“Yes, currently in pursuit. Interesting. Very intelligent.”
“It won’t get far,” Garrus muttered. The corridors were confusing to those who didn’t work there, and there were several places where the prisoner could be cornered. Garrus hurriedly logged in to access C-Sec’s security footage on his omni-tool, and immediately spotted the pale, bandaged alien in one of the cell blocks, rifle held at the ready. It seemed to be looking into each cell, and was calling out in its strange language, perhaps trying to locate more of its own kind.
“Cell Block D,” he told Dr. Solus, forwarding the coordinates to the salarian. “You get south exit, I’ll get north. It’ll be trapped.”
The priority was to recover the prisoner - preferably relatively unharmed - before other members of C-Sec caught on and the Council was notified. He immediately hacked the appropriate security feeds using his omni-tool, and looped the footage so it seemed like nothing was amiss. Then he grabbed another gun from a storage locker nearby and sprinted towards Cell Block D. When he got there, he noticed a thin trail of red blood on the ground. He followed the trail for some time; the alien seemed to have moved quickly, working around all the cells.
A bullet suddenly whizzed by his ear. Immediately Garrus flattened himself against the wall, scanning his surroundings for cover. He dove into an alcove, his shields flickering out as they were hit.
Okay, this thing’s a good shot, too. What kind of frickin’ creatures are these things? He waited for his shields to regenerate before looking out of the alcove. He couldn’t see it, but he knew the floor plan by heart and had figured out where it had to be hiding. He also knew that the rifle it had stolen off his back only had a few bullets in it. But it doesn’t know that. Maybe I can get it to waste them… He leaned out cautiously, teasing out another shot in his direction that sent his shields fizzling again. He waited and repeated this once more, but it didn’t take the bait. Clearly it had caught on. He shook his head. Smart little thing, he thought, half affectionately and half in exasperation.
Out of other options, Garrus removed a flashbang grenade from his belt and lobbed it in the creature’s direction. In the ensuing confusion, he sprinted towards it and finally found it slumped against a doorway, still clutching the rifle. He took advantage of the last moments of blinding smoke to wrestle the rifle away from it and to snap a pair of handcuffs around the thin, pale wrists. It cried out in protest, reflexively attempting to kick him. Garrus winced in sympathy as its soft, fleshy foot came into jarring contact with his armor. The creature yelped in pain, and then at last, seemed to give up.
“Spirits, finally,” Garrus muttered in relief. “Guard duty is way more work than I thought it would be.” He noticed that fresh red blood was staining the bandage on one of the creature’s sides, and that it was panting in exhaustion, but it still looked up at him defiantly.
Dr. Solus appeared on the opposite end of the hall. The sound of the salarian’s footsteps got the creature’s attention, and it gaped at Dr. Solus in shock, apparently having never seen a salarian before.
“Highly sensitive to adrenal effects,” Dr. Solus commented. “But tiring now. Tore her stitches. Blood loss.”
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“Indeed. Studied scans of reproductive organs just prior to escape attempt. Despite superficial bodily resemblance to asari, reproductive system more similar to turians.”
By this time, the alien woman’s eyes had glazed over in exhaustion and her shoulders had slumped in defeat. She looked up at them wearily. Garrus noticed that her limbs were trembling, and strange little bumps had risen on her skin.
Seeing her, Garrus felt a moment of sympathy. If it had been him in the same situation - being attacked by aggressive aliens and left to die, then waking up alone in a room surrounded by other strange aliens - he probably would have reacted the same way, or worse. And, he had to admit that despite the situation, he had enjoyed himself. As an investigator, he didn’t get to spend much time in firefights, and it had honestly been refreshing. The alien woman had certainly been a match, and to Garrus, respect for a worthy opponent transcended species boundaries. If she’d been equally armed and equipped, perhaps the fight would have ended differently.
“Look,” he began, even though he knew she couldn’t understand him. “I know you’re lost and confused. I tried making friends. And after seeing all that, I really hope we can have you on our side, because we can use that kind of tenacity.” She furrowed her brow, seemingly concentrating on his voice, and he made his tone gentle, using the same comforting subvocal that turians often used when addressing young children. “We’re not going to hurt you unless you do something drastic like that again. But you have to cooperate. You’ll be in real danger if the Council hears about this.”
“Yes,” Dr. Solus agreed. “Recommend destruction of security footage immediately. Must not let Councilors learn of this lapse. Sparatus especially.” The salarian crouched down in front of the prisoner, who stared at him dubiously. “Should continue attempting communication. Much to learn from her. Build trust.”
And to Garrus’ shock, Dr. Solus smiled widely at the woman and began to sing.
“My dalatrass’ wishes are consistently peculiar
But as a loyal servant I must constantly defer to her…”
It was a song from a classic salarian musical. Garrus vaguely recalled a line in Dr. Solus’ C-Sec file that indicated he’d once performed extensively as a singer. The alien seemed stunned, too, staring like Dr. Solus as if he’d gone insane. And maybe he had, Garrus thought.
Dr. Solus had spread his arms theatrically, closing his eyes in delight as he completed the last verse of the song. By that time, though it seemed she had been fighting it, the woman had broken down into hysterical laughter. As Dr. Solus finished, she clapped her hands stiffly, handcuffs jingling.
Dr. Solus smiled benignly at her. “Have successfully calmed specimen,” he said proudly, addressing Garrus. “Artistic appreciation obviously indicative of advanced cognitive development. May now return to cell. I will clean up blood trail.”
“You sure she wasn’t laughing at you because you looked like an idiot?”
Dr. Solus looked offended. “Appears that your cognitive development may lag behind hers.”
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a!a - not the end of the chapter, but that's it for today :) thanks for reading!
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Oh sweet screaming hell that is a FUN line! I skipped this initially because ... I dunno now. But DAMN if I'm not kicking myself for that.
There were, literally, tears flowing down my face.
Looking forward to tomorrow's update!
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