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.”
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a!a - not the end of the chapter, but that's it for today :) thanks for reading!
Re: The Final Frontier 3d/3d
anonymous
August 1 2012, 05:48:55 UTC
OMG MORDIN!! AHAHAHAHA! I can see he and Shepard becoming fast friends. This is so good I can't even handle it. I love how nice you've made Garrus - he's such a sweetie. And once again, MORDIN! I love how you made him sing, I can totally see him doing that. Suffice it to say I will be stalking this fic for updates! Very curious to see how they try and communicate, I suppose Shep could just sing Gilbert and Sullivan lol
The Final Frontier 3e/3f
anonymous
August 1 2012, 18:31:58 UTC
After being escorted back to her cell, Shepard fell asleep almost immediately, clutching the torn sheet to her body to ward off the chill. The failed escape attempt had exhausted her, which wasn’t too surprising as she was still healing. When she woke up later, the guard was missing. She thought about trying to escape again, but then she noticed a new addition - a camera device mounted outside the room. She rolled her eyes at it and gave it the middle finger. Try and figure that out! she thought.
As she sat on the cot, rolling her sore shoulder, she began to think. She hadn’t been able to find any of her crew members, and it was probably safe to assume that she was alone here. She also had no way of contacting Alliance Command.
But those two aliens, at least - the salamander and the dinosaur - didn’t seem inclined to harm her. She’d been prepared for a pretty severe punishment after they’d caught her - a failure that still bothered her despite the fact that she knew they’d had all the advantages in this situation, and her none - but the dinosaur (“Blue”, she had started to call him in her head) had simply handcuffed her and then proceeded to reprimand her in his strange two-toned language. (It had to be a reprimand - she’d been on the receiving end of far too many from her superiors not to know that body language.) And the lab-coated salamander-thing was even stranger. After she’d gotten over the shock of its appearance - a comical cross between a horned frog and a barn owl, with a pouty mouth - he’d turned to her, given her a shit-eating grin, and actually starting singing.
What could she do but applaud after that little stunt?
She sighed and closed her eyes again. Now that the shock of her situation had faded, she realized that the best thing for her to do would be to cooperate- at least for a little while, until she learned more. It was clear that whatever this civilization was, it was advanced. And so far, she hadn’t seen any of the four-eyed monsters that had attacked the Normandy yet. If one of them had shown up…well, she wouldn’t have just wrapped its head with a sheet - she would have tried to strangle it with the IV and then beat it to death with the chair.
She let a wave of rage wash over her for a few moments before collecting herself again. Time enough for that later, she thought to herself.
There was a knock, and she glanced over towards the door. The guard - Blue - was back, and he was carrying something. She sat up on the cot as he opened the door - and smirked as he made a show of closing it and locking it behind him. Then he turned back around and she noticed he was holding some cloth garment gingerly in his three-fingered hand, as if being careful not to rip it with his claws. He placed it on the cot next to her, and waited expectantly as she lifted it.
It was a long, high-necked burgundy tunic with some stripes down the side. To her surprise, it actually fit her rather well, as if it had been created for a similar-shaped body. For a hopeful moment she wondered if there were other humans here - not from the Normandy crew perhaps, but maybe kidnapped from space before and brought here as well.
“Thanks for the clothes, Blue,” she said, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t understand.
Blue stared at her curiously, before making that low purr again.
“What are you, a big dino-cat?” she asked, then tried to imitate the sound back at him. Of course, she had only one voicebox, and the effect was much diminished. Blue’s brow plates rose and she swore he looked confused.
“I’m Shepard,” she said to him conversationally, gesturing to herself. “Shepard.”
He pointed to her suddenly, and she almost jumped back at the sight of his talons.
“S..sh…shep..aarrrrd,” he said, in a gravelly, two-toned growl.
The Final Frontier 3f/3f
anonymous
August 1 2012, 18:33:29 UTC
“Yes!” She grinned at him, and he tilted his head and his mandibles flared, as if in imitation of her smile. Shepard was momentarily taken aback by the sight of his teeth - but it didn’t seem to be an aggressive gesture so she relaxed.
“Yesssss,” he repeated to her. “Yesss.”
“Shepard,” she repeated again, gesturing to herself. Then she pointed to him.
“Garrus,” he said very clearly.
“Garrus,” she repeated.
He trilled approvingly. “Yessss?”
Shepard was suddenly giddy, and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Maybe this could work. Maybe they could find a way to communicate, and then eventually he could tell her where she was, and what was going on.
Maybe one day, she could get home again.
“Garrus,” she repeated.
“Sheparrrd.”
It was a start.
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a!a - end of chapter! thanks so much for reading and leaving your wonderful comments - they make me smile and want to write more! ;)
Re: The Final Frontier 3f/3f
anonymous
August 1 2012, 23:02:19 UTC
OP here - this story just gets better and better. I love your characterization of Shepard, Garrus and Mordin. Mordin was hilarious and the interaction between Shep and Garrus is already adorable. I love her nickname's for them too. I can't put into words how happy these updates make me.
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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As she sat on the cot, rolling her sore shoulder, she began to think. She hadn’t been able to find any of her crew members, and it was probably safe to assume that she was alone here. She also had no way of contacting Alliance Command.
But those two aliens, at least - the salamander and the dinosaur - didn’t seem inclined to harm her. She’d been prepared for a pretty severe punishment after they’d caught her - a failure that still bothered her despite the fact that she knew they’d had all the advantages in this situation, and her none - but the dinosaur (“Blue”, she had started to call him in her head) had simply handcuffed her and then proceeded to reprimand her in his strange two-toned language. (It had to be a reprimand - she’d been on the receiving end of far too many from her superiors not to know that body language.) And the lab-coated salamander-thing was even stranger. After she’d gotten over the shock of its appearance - a comical cross between a horned frog and a barn owl, with a pouty mouth - he’d turned to her, given her a shit-eating grin, and actually starting singing.
What could she do but applaud after that little stunt?
She sighed and closed her eyes again. Now that the shock of her situation had faded, she realized that the best thing for her to do would be to cooperate- at least for a little while, until she learned more. It was clear that whatever this civilization was, it was advanced. And so far, she hadn’t seen any of the four-eyed monsters that had attacked the Normandy yet. If one of them had shown up…well, she wouldn’t have just wrapped its head with a sheet - she would have tried to strangle it with the IV and then beat it to death with the chair.
She let a wave of rage wash over her for a few moments before collecting herself again. Time enough for that later, she thought to herself.
There was a knock, and she glanced over towards the door. The guard - Blue - was back, and he was carrying something. She sat up on the cot as he opened the door - and smirked as he made a show of closing it and locking it behind him. Then he turned back around and she noticed he was holding some cloth garment gingerly in his three-fingered hand, as if being careful not to rip it with his claws. He placed it on the cot next to her, and waited expectantly as she lifted it.
It was a long, high-necked burgundy tunic with some stripes down the side. To her surprise, it actually fit her rather well, as if it had been created for a similar-shaped body. For a hopeful moment she wondered if there were other humans here - not from the Normandy crew perhaps, but maybe kidnapped from space before and brought here as well.
“Thanks for the clothes, Blue,” she said, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t understand.
Blue stared at her curiously, before making that low purr again.
“What are you, a big dino-cat?” she asked, then tried to imitate the sound back at him. Of course, she had only one voicebox, and the effect was much diminished. Blue’s brow plates rose and she swore he looked confused.
“I’m Shepard,” she said to him conversationally, gesturing to herself. “Shepard.”
He pointed to her suddenly, and she almost jumped back at the sight of his talons.
“S..sh…shep..aarrrrd,” he said, in a gravelly, two-toned growl.
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“Yesssss,” he repeated to her. “Yesss.”
“Shepard,” she repeated again, gesturing to herself. Then she pointed to him.
“Garrus,” he said very clearly.
“Garrus,” she repeated.
He trilled approvingly. “Yessss?”
Shepard was suddenly giddy, and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Maybe this could work. Maybe they could find a way to communicate, and then eventually he could tell her where she was, and what was going on.
Maybe one day, she could get home again.
“Garrus,” she repeated.
“Sheparrrd.”
It was a start.
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a!a - end of chapter! thanks so much for reading and leaving your wonderful comments - they make me smile and want to write more! ;)
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(Commenting to get more chapters soon - I think I'm getting addicted to this story)
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Can't wait for the update.
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