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Post by Game Master on Feb 15, 2015 19:14:37 GMT -6
The Vengeance safely docked with the Valiant while the refurbished Turian frigate opened fire on the pursuing enemy. It gave Maelstrom's shuttle just enough time to clear the ship's atmospheric kinetic barrier into the shuttle bay. The Valiant took off at neckbreaking speeds less than a moment later, leaving a streak of light in its wake.... and entering into the mass relay system in less than a minute.... to safety...
But.. inside the Vengeance, is it truly safe?
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GM Notes - This is the section that deals with the trip from the Collector Base to the Citadel - This section is open. The PCs are encouraged to speak with each other, interact with NPCs, investigate, check messages, and everything else they wish to do.
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Post by Maelstrom on Feb 16, 2015 22:07:26 GMT -6
Maelstrom was fighting his own fury, as he climbed, one rung at a time, up to Bridge's personal quarters. He was so overwhelmed with emotions- mostly anger- that he feared his biotics might kick in and break one of the handholds. His breathing was unsteady, despite his best attempts to control it.
When they first arrived a couple hours back, Maelstrom helped the others to get Iskra, Morgan, Malik, and the one prisoner they managed to rescue to the stasis tubes, reluctantly leaving the crew of the Valiant to put out the plasma leaks that developed on the return flight. With Iskra out, the crew was without so much as even a combat medic. While putting them in stasis was far from ideal, it was the best solution to the current dilemma. At least they could get treatment from a proper doctor when they returned to civilization.
Meldom's condition was different. Given his blood loss, it was too dangerous to put him into stasis. He was being kept under heavy sedation while the ship's VI monitored his vitals and transfused him with appropriate amounts of bodily fluids.
He cursed under his breath.
As soon as those whose lives were in danger were tended to, he made his way straight back to the Vengeance. The critical damage taken care of, only Anelya remained to tend his craft, the rest of the engineers having run off to see the Valiant through its jump through the mass relay. After a quick check to confirm Zuko was safe, they worked together wordlessly and with the doors open. The asari saw to the more significant damage, Maelstrom saw to more minor things, like deactivating systems with shorts or stopping hydraulic leaks. Only Emily broke their troubled silence, sometimes appearing in her normal VI form, at others appearing in the visage of the woman he once loved, but her form wavered and blinked in and out of existence constantly. Her usually reassuring presence was uncharacteristically troubling, only serving to offering stutter reports of systems failures and ever-decreasing system performance. The one time Anelya spoke was to warn Maelstrom not to shut Emily down under any circumstance, warning that with the damage to the computer's systems, there was every chance her program would be rendered unrecoverable if the active memory were shut down.
The whole situation was rendered even worse by the fact that the whole incident took place with the shuttle's hatches open to all the world. Smoke and noxious fumes made it far too His private sanctuary was on public display when it was at its most vulnerable, and Emily's security measures had no way to repel anyone or anything that might have tried to take advantage of the weakness.
Finally, when he could not take it anymore, he abandoned his usual attempts at remaining emotionally detached when speaking with his employer and making his way there directly. Reaching the hatchway to Bridges' quarters, he pressed the small buzzer to request entry. The hatch opened, and Maelstrom made his way in.
Doing his best to keep his voice steady, Maelstrom said, "I've been over our contract a few times, since I first joined up with your team. Regarding the section on maintenance and repair of equipment... If I'm understanding correctly, this should extend to my shuttle. After all, it is a piece of equipment vital to the operation of the mission. And, unlike for the others, it's both my home and my livelihood. I'm sure this is far beyond the scope of what you intended when you drafted this contract, but... Well... There it is."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Feb 19, 2015 1:39:32 GMT -6
Esteban could not move from his couch, having just finished reading through over a dozen datapads. He had no conception of time with so many ideas flowing through his mind. Bad and good. He had proof of Udina's involvement with the Collectors. He also had schematics of what had to be some of the most advanced pieces of technology he ever saw. It should be a great moment. But he also had images of so many dead. He also had potential proof of a high level Asari betraying her people to the Collectors. He scowled. That thought unnerved him. He could not understand why anyone would work with the Collectors.
The data strongly hinted at Shepard's story about the Reapers. Much of it fit. The tech was equivalent. And he felt an uncomfortable weight in his stomach when looking through it. He was so engrossed by it all that he did not hear Data's warning of someone approaching or Maelstrom entering soon after.... but his voice caught his attention.
"I've been over our contract a few times, since I first joined up with your team. Regarding the section on maintenance and repair of equipment... If I'm understanding correctly, this should extend to my shuttle. After all, it is a piece of equipment vital to the operation of the mission. And, unlike for the others, it's both my home and my livelihood. I'm sure this is far beyond the scope of what you intended when you drafted this contract, but... Well... There it is."
Esteban gestured toward an empty spot on the couch across from him, inviting Maelstrom to join him. "I can begin repairs on your ship immediately," he replied as cordially as he could, though all that data stirred in the back of his mind. "We picked up the proper material to replace parts of the damaged bulkheads... Whatever cannot be replaced, I will put credits forward to cover the needed costs....."
The Engineer paused for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his palms and stifled a yawn. It felt like he worked for such a long time....
"But you could have told me all of this through messages," he dropped his arms down against his knees, leaning forward. "Is there something on your mind?"
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Post by Maelstrom on Feb 19, 2015 2:09:24 GMT -6
"Whatever cannot be replaced, I will put credits forward to cover the needed costs....." Bridges offered.
Maelstrom was surprised it had gone that easily. Most businessmen he was acquainted with held onto credits as though they were life itself. In a way, he supposed they were- at least, they were a representation of time spent pursuing their goals. Letting some of the tension out of his muscles, Maelstrom collapsed onto the offered spot on the couch, not thinking about the grime from both combat and repairs which was covering his suit.
"But you could have told me all of this through messages," Bridges pointed out, leaning forward. "Is there something on your mind?"
Maelstrom laughed humorlessly, taking off the helmet he wore as much to maintain his battle-persona as to protect himself from harm. "More than I can put into words." He took a deep breath. "Short version? The people we went to rescue are dead. The loyalty of multiple team-mates is in question, and we can't even clear it up, because they're all injured and in stasis. As if Barce wasn't confirmation enough, we had a one-on-one chat with a Reaper today, confirming what Shepard's been saying all along- that we're all screwed if this political, self-interested galaxy we live in doesn't pull together and work as one selfless whole. And, to top it all off, my home is a smoking cinder and its computer systems are failing, meaning that my VI- which is crucial to everything I do, will most likely be irretrievable if I turn it off to prevent further system degradation."
With a grim smile, he said, "That's leaving out everything personal and any baggage I brought along. Even nuking the base, it doesn't feel like we killed enough of those bastards today."
"What about you? Surprised you're not debriefing Lysander and the others. Collating data, as it were."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Feb 19, 2015 18:38:24 GMT -6
Joe had just finished repairing the Typhoon when the breakdown happened.
After getting off the shuttle, the first thing he had done was take off his helmet, relishing in the taste of fresh air for a moment, and then kiss the deck of the Valiant.
Then it was off for weapons cleaning and repair. He set his weapons on stands set aside for just such purposes and did the same with his armor. Knowing the armor would take the longest to repair, he focused on his weapons first.
He didn’t bother with the Collector assault rifle he had picked up; there would be plenty of time to figure it out later; maybe Maelstrom, with his Collector-inspired armor, could provide some insights?
Taking care of the Crusader was easy; it wasn’t damaged, it just needed a good cleaning to remove all the carbon build up from being fired.
The Typhoon took a little bit longer. One of the bipod legs had been bent out of shape by a Collector bullet, and after a quick examination, saw that it was a total loss, so he swapped it out with one of several spares he had brought along.
MOMMY!
Even as the memory came up, he wasn’t surprised by it, unwelcome as it was. During a mission, he was pretty good at keeping his emotions in check; he couldn’t afford to lose control. But now, with the adrenaline wearing off and his mind free to roam, it had gone to the one place he didn’t want it to.
He bit back the tears, knowing they were going to come anyway; now it was just a matter of holding them back until he could find someplace in private to let them out.
*****
He found an empty observation room and locked the door, then let it out.
He pounded against the walls, the door, the window, raging all the while at the uncaring god who let her die.
NOT FAIR! was the one thought that pounded through his brain. NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR!!!
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Post by dargene on Feb 19, 2015 19:12:42 GMT -6
Meldom stood on a large balcony overlooking a ocean, he lent against the railing listening to the oceans waves slowly hit the beach. With a deep breath he could smell the salt in the air and feel the wind on his face. "Nice to be back, missed this place, earth always was like a second home" he said with a smile. a female voice spoke "and here i thought you came to see me and not the view" Meldom turned around to face his friend Shroud, as usual she was wearing the counter part to Meldoms armour, a varient of Kessle armour but with different modifications. "You are part of why i came here" he said walking to the chair and sitting down.
"I messed up" he said to her "There was this..thing, like in my head, screaming trying to burst out, everything was unclear, different.. I..." he paused for a moment "I shot Esteban, you know, my employer.. i failed him" he said bringing his head to his hands and holding it in them. Shroud looked at him with a blank expression and no emotion "I know" she said uncaringly "I was there". Meldom looked up at her with a curious face.
"No.. i did not bring you, too dangerous" he said with certainty. She smiled and grinned menacingly "Have you not figured it out, here i thought Salarians were smart" she said "Look around, whats different". Meldom stood up to the railing and looked around, everything seemed normal "Look at what" he said puzzled. As he did so a sharp blow hit him in the back of the head causing him to hit the railing then the floor "ugh.." he muttered feeling the pain and weakness. "LOOK" she said with a less female voice. Meldom pulled himself up on the railing to look once more.
Everything was normal but then he noticed that there was something different, it felt almost empty, looking below there was no cars or people, everything was still also, he could hear the water crashing against the sand and rock but the ocean was not moving, the trees did not sway in the wind that started to pick up "Wh.. What.. but Earth..". A evil like laugh was heard from behind him as he turned to face her "Don't you know where you are Meldom" she said jumping and sitting up on the balcony "Your in here" she said pointing to her head and twisting her finger.
"Well that is to say your head, not mine" she said. Meldom rubbed the back of his head and tried to make sense of everything "what.. but.. i.." She jumped from the railing and walked around "Aww come on, you honestly think you got here safely, you idiot, its all a mind game, its protecting you, your brain that is.. for the most part" Meldom looked around at everything, it felt so real could it be he thought. "Okay look" Shroud said "That chip in your brain is basicly broken, overheating, slowly killing you, whatever i don't really know but its the best guess, its probably why you shot Esteban also, then again that could just be me telling you that so you think your fine".
Meldom looked at shroud "So.. none of this is real.. but i don't remember anything.." Shroud laughed "Course not silly, like i said, brain is trying to protect you, most people, even warriors can't deal with it", Meldom looked at her with anger "Deal with what" he said out loud "What is so bad that i could not handle it" he said with his voice getting louder "I have done things that people would probably never speak to me again for, I have cheated, murdered, stole, lied, swindled been shot at and hit by many bullets, there is nothing i could not be prepared for!" he said grabbing her by the neck.
She simply smiled "and what about your own death" she said with glee "Many people think they are fine with it, can avoid it.. but you, oh no you have done so many things you have not made right yet, so many deaths you need to atone for but i guess you won't" Meldom looked at her with hated "Your not real..." he said malice "you.. ARE..NOT..REAL!" he screamed pulling and throwing her and him over the balcony edge.
Before they hit the ground something changed again and Meldom was standing, not falling on a barren planet "No more mind games.. if im to die let me die" he said sitting down there was no answer but silence he brought his legs to his chin and rested it on there "Im done.." he said "Im.. broken" he announced with a sigh, Shroud suddenly appeared and sat down next to him "Nah, you see thats the fun part" she said with a bounce in her voice "Dying is easy, and you kind of have to suffer, nothing personal... or is it since im part of your imagination, if so you are really dark" she said nudging him.
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Post by Weyrloc Karn on Feb 19, 2015 20:14:59 GMT -6
Remarkably, the krogan remained quiet. It was an odd characteristic for such a brutish creature to keep his maw shut for so long after the fact. He didn't have much time to make-up his thoughts, nor' did he really have much time to think on whatever just happened in that mess of a base. They all made through the impossible, but with the loss that could come with such an expedition into a large endeavor... Karn seemingly lacked a word to state, or really an actual topic to discuss. He knew they weren't in the best mood to talk, neither was he... He just knew where to stand in the situation.
Once out of the shuttle, the krogan lumbers off from the group, as such with the rest of the team. His helmet would slide away, folding into his back compartment slowly, with an audible hiss. His gauntlet rubs along against his plate as he caresses it with his hand. He wanders around the engineering bay without much of a place to wander, nor' go. He had a lack of direction and an honest lack of thoughts. He was blank, confused, and rather annoyed. But he was a sensible creature, his actions throughout the mission would prove that a fact. Regardless, his little moment of solitude was all he'd wish to have at this moment in time, much like the rest of the team onboard.
He finds a railing, idly leaning as he watches about the area, hopefully not causing an issue regardless of the situation, but supposing at this point in time, there wasn't much doubt at the time that anyone would care for what each of them would end up doing. The krogan remains silent throughout his small break by the engines, in his own thoughts. It was a small time of peace, for sure... But a peace not many people would be so desperate to have.
****
"You idiot..."
"Weak welp.. How many times do I have to hit ya' to make ya' kneel?!"
"You ain't livin' long enough to get off this rock.."
"Are ya' gonna' cry now, huh? S'all you can do, ain't it?!"
The inner thoughts of the krogan singe with deep, loathing hate. Burning through his mind, slowly picking away at his emotions...
The past held more pain, than an honorable memory...
****
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Feb 20, 2015 0:56:11 GMT -6
Esteban leaned back, throwing his arms up across the back of his sofa to relax a little bit more. He had a feeling he would need it.
"More than I can put into words." Maelstrom took a deep breath. "Short version? The people we went to rescue are dead. The loyalty of multiple team-mates is in question, and we can't even clear it up, because they're all injured and in stasis. As if Barce wasn't confirmation enough, we had a one-on-one chat with a Reaper today, confirming what Shepard's been saying all along- that we're all screwed if this political, self-interested galaxy we live in doesn't pull together and work as one selfless whole. And, to top it all off, my home is a smoking cinder and its computer systems are failing, meaning that my VI- which is crucial to everything I do, will most likely be irretrievable if I turn it off to prevent further system degradation."
With a grim smile, he said, "That's leaving out everything personal and any baggage I brought along. Even nuking the base, it doesn't feel like we killed enough of those bastards today."
"What about you? Surprised you're not debriefing Lysander and the others. Collating data, as it were."
Esteban nodded toward the table, where the small pile of datapads were resting. "I'm not ready to talk to anyone about the mission," the Engineer conceded to himself more than to the mercenary. "Not yet. I want to make sure I understand what it was I found out first. Plus..."
Esteban's voice trailed off, glancing away from the mercenary and towards his helmet sitting on his desk. The dent from the assassination attempt was apparent against the perfection of his work. He frowned to himself.
"I have a minor concussion from an assassination attempt," he further conceded, though the implications of it all weighed on him more. "I still don't know what to think about it. The doctor examined me and gave me medication to help with the swelling and pain. But.... I can't shake what Joseph said. That it was someone on the team that took the shot...."
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Post by Maelstrom on Feb 20, 2015 1:13:56 GMT -6
"That it was someone on the team that took the shot...." Bridges said.
"It was," Maelstrom confirmed. Maelstrom held his tongue for a moment, trying to decide what to say. He knew he was a poor liar. The best he could manage was wording things in a manner open to interpretation. Bridges needed to know, but the best way to bring that about eluded him. In the end, he supposed, Lysander was the one who should tell Bridges, as team lead. "Another reason I'm surprised you're not debriefing Lysander. He might have some information on that."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Feb 20, 2015 11:47:05 GMT -6
Scorched, bent and venting plasma in several places, the Vengeance eased into and set down inside the Valiant’s docking bay while the ship’s guns laid down covering fire against straggling Collector oculi. A group of technicians was dispatched to tend to Maelstrom’s transport and home as word was given that the shuttlecraft was secure in the hold. The bay doors sealed up and helmsman Torrez took a hard turn to starboard before engaging trans-light drive, leaving the couple of oculi left to shoot at and destroy each other. Eric helped bring Malik, Morgan and the other unconscious passengers into the medical bay to be loaded into stasis tubes since their only doctor was also incapacitated. Eric hurried along with Meldom, refusing any assistance from other personnel; he did not weigh much really but that was not the senior N7s concern. He stepped towards a stasis tube when he was informed that Meldom’s condition was too severe and was guided over to a bed. IV and nose tubes were attached to the salarian, the ships VI monitoring vital signs as heavy sedatives and nutrient solutions were administered. Eric stepped back from Meldom’s bed. If he was still a danger to the crew he was not in much shape to do anything, pondered Eric.
But then so was Xenos…
Eric returned to a docking bay full of smoke and fumes. The other technicians were dismissed by Maelstrom, leaving him and Anelya to make repairs. Covering his mouth and waving away smoke with his free hand, Eric walked a perimeter around the Vengeance making several unsuccessful attempts to get their attention and offer to help. Maelstrom was too consumed with checking over his belongings and trying to salvage what systems he could to notice. Eric’s last bid got Anelya’s attention. She gestured gently to the silver-armored mercenary to stop and just leave them be; Maelstrom was not in a mood to entertain help from anyone outside his inner circle but the offer was appreciated. Eric nodded and went over to his storage area nearby to get out of his armor. The secretive mercenary had shared his real name with him but this confidence was still not enough to gain admission.
Eric changed into his street clothes, cringing and twitching at the sound of every dropped tool, banged limb and shouted curse from across the way. He looked over his armor again, tracing the indentation from Vanguard’s black hole projectile in the chest plate and spotting areas of melted laminate from the Reaper Elcor’s plasma ball that narrowly missed him. He had equipment with him that could patch up and smooth over the damage but then decided not to add to the noise and calamity in the docking bay. He stuffed a change of underwear into a small bag and headed up to the shower.
Eric leaned his head against the shower wall and groaned after hitting the dial, forgetting that the Valiant only had sonic showers aboard. He needed warm water sliding about him to massage away the tension, not more noise and teeth rattling. He resigned himself to his plight and quickly cleaned himself up, dressed and went to sit in one of the unoccupied chairs in the galley. Not to eat, drink or think. Only to sit.
And listen to the relative silence of the upper deck.
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Post by Joe Fischer on Feb 21, 2015 20:29:18 GMT -6
When finally the haze lifted, Joe found himself sitting on the floor, with a sore throat and swollen hands. The grief for the girl was still there, but it was at a tolerable level.
The Venting, as he called it, was something he found himself doing on a mission in which he lost someone, and he always ended feeling the same: a little bit smaller, a little hollower—and absolutely famished.
He had just gotten to his feet when the idea struck him. One good thing about The Venting was that with all the negative emotions gone, the professional part of him was able to start reviewing the mission, looking for ways to improve and learn.
But he admitted to himself the idea was a long shot; it was a Hail Mary pass, a half-court shot with no time on the clock, a rifle shot on a target 1000 meters away in high wind. But he knew he was going to take it—the hard part would be convincing Bridges to let him do it.
He caught his reflection in the viewport, and knew he couldn’t go to his employer in his current state; he needed a shower, a change of clothes and meal before he could face him.
*****
For the most part, he liked technology; it is what allowed him to do his job, not to mention traveling across the galaxy in a matter of hours.
The sonic shower was not one of them. He knew it was more ecologically efficient than a water shower, but he liked the water ones because of the sensation of washing away the grime and feeling like a new man.
The shower done, he put on some fresh clothes and made his way up to the galley.
*****
He found Lysander just sitting there, probably going over the mission and getting his feelings in order. He gave him a quick nod as he made his way to the food storage locker.
“I don’t know about you Pops, but I’m starving,” he said. “I’m making me some eggs, want some?”
[Insert Lysander’s response]
He found all the necessary ingredients and utensils and got to work.
*****
The eggs were about halfway done when he spoke. “So there I was, no shit, in the core of the base with Karn and the boss,” he said. “So the boss starts doing his thing, and then a Praetorian shows up. So me and Karn get to doing what we do best and start kicking its ass.
“You should’ve seen Karn, he was a maniac,” he continued. “About halfway through the fight, he manages to get himself on top of it. He blasts a hole in its armor with his shotgun, then just starts going crazy on its insides with his hammer.
“So anyway, we finish it off, and I turn to check on the boss, thinking he’s probably in cover behind one of the terminals,” he said. “Nope, he’s hard at work on the hack. I don’t think he even moved, it’s like he didn’t even register the fight going on. I got to tell you, he impressed the hell out of me. I’m thinking he might’ve been good enough to join us if he had signed up, what do you think?”
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: “So there I was, no shit…” is the common opening for any war story told between servicemembers.]
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Post by Eric Lysander on Feb 22, 2015 10:58:01 GMT -6
The ringing in the ears faded as did the tingling in the teeth and limbs. There was no longer a sustained riot of noise and vibration keeping him in a sort of quasi-disembodied state. Quiet helped reunite body to mind.
Eric, at least on the surface of his being, was whole again.
The silence and solitude were short-lived; Joe made his way into the galley after getting himself cleaned up. Eric sat up and returned his counterpart's nod as he browsed the food storage locker.
“I don’t know about you Pops, but I’m starving,” he said. “I’m making me some eggs, want some?”
Being in touch with himself again, certain biological needs made themselves known.
"Yeah," Eric shifted in his seat. "Been couple o' days at least since I ate anything. Best to start back slow."
Joe took some eggs and pepper and salt shakers. Then he brought out a skillet and frying pan and set to work cooking up eggs for them both. Eric said nothing in the interim, allowing Joe to mind the induction range. Then the young N7 began to regale Eric on a combat situation inside the Collector base. He could have been wrong but Eric felt that Joe was not really comfortable with silence. He listened on as the story turned towards his employer.
"I don’t think he even moved, it’s like he didn’t even register the fight going on. I got to tell you, he impressed the hell out of me. I’m thinking he might’ve been good enough to join us if he had signed up, what do you think?”
Eric thought a second then tilted his head and shrugged. "...possibly...."
Silence again for about ten seconds before he added "Did ya ever have Tariq Pasquale for Drill Sergeant back at N1 Boot? He said that the key to gettin' through th' long hikes, heavy packs n' sleep deprivation wasn't a strong body. It was a strong mind. Bodies can be reshaped by will or force - it's the mind that has the hardest job dealin' with all the changes. All the shocks can be too much for some. Some need time to adjust and some don't adjust at all. Like th' ol' sayin' goes: free your mind n' your ass'll follow.... if Fearless Leader has the right mind, I'm sure he would've made th' cut."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Feb 22, 2015 13:41:12 GMT -6
"Another reason I'm surprised you're not debriefing Lysander. He might have some information on that."
Esteban listened to Maelstrom's response, reading Maelstrom's expression. The mercenary worded that response very strangely, implying that Lysander knows something. But more than that, implying that Esteban should have known that. He pursed his lips with a thin, joyless smile.
"I will take that under advisement," he replied, trying to give nothing away. He resolved to take another look at mission recordings, in case there was something he missed that showed that Maelstrom knew that Esteban should know of Lysander's knowledge of the assassination. Unless Maelstrom was able to access the recordings, knowing what he missed about the mercenary's knowledge of Esteban's missing knowledge of Lysander's knowledge or involvement in the assassination. "This type of mission is new for me. The ones I fund and commission are not as... " he rolled his wrist as he searched fort he right term..."complex as this. I think I need time to understand what happened. Nothing went as expected. Not even close..."
He heaved a exhausted sigh, stretching his arms out wide. "On my side, Joseph decided that I must have been a mercenary like him, since he kept on throwing me into combat situations. Then Joseph took a Geth head... who knows when that will activate and go on a murder spree. And then all the death. How much did you see?"
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Post by Maelstrom on Feb 22, 2015 21:28:48 GMT -6
"Nothing went as expected. Not even close..." Bridges said.
"It's not just that your missions are usually of a different sort," Maelstrom said, trying to comfort him. "I'm used to missions of this sort. This one was F.U.B.A.R. We had problems inside the team, and the enemy's preparedness was greater than we expected."
Bridges spread out on the couch. "On my side, Joseph decided that I must have been a mercenary like him, since he kept on throwing me into combat situations. Then Joseph took a Geth head... who knows when that will activate and go on a murder spree. And then all the death. How much did you see?"
"Yeah. N-7's aren't used to working with civilians, especially ones as freshly discharged as Fischer," Maelstrom chuckled. "He's not bad, though. If he sticks around, he'll make a good addition to the team. And I wouldn't worry too much about the Geth."
"As for death... Well, I figure you'll end up hearing this all from Lysander sooner or later anyway, if it isn't in that pile of paperwork in front of you..." Maelstrom sighed. "I was the first one to the cell block. I saw the condition the living ones were in- almost enough to turn my stomach, and I have a solid constitution. There were dead there already when I got there. Not shot. People who starved to death. People who died from complications from experimental procedures. Some of the bodies looked days, maybe even weeks old. I'm guessing they were planning on letting everyone in the block die off, then incinerate all the contents of the room.
"There was no one else with me when I got there, so I kept doing reconn. I met back up with Meldom in the cell block later, we got pinned down, and we retreated, hoping to draw the Collectors' attention and to round up a couple loose prisoners- that Elcor and the Turian merc we have the stasis tube down in the med bay. Well, when we finally met up with Lysander and made it back there... It was a massacre. Senseless. They could have just posted guards, but instead they exterminated all their test subjects.
"I've seen a lot of death in my travels, but to see in that way, to that scope, and with civilians... I'd be lying if I said it didn't have me pretty well shaken up," Maelstrom finished, leaving out how close it hit to home.
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Feb 22, 2015 23:43:44 GMT -6
Esteban listened. That was all he could do. He listened to everything that Maelstrom said, imagining the things the mercenary was not saying. That pit in his stomach came back while Maelstrom went through the sickening details of the prison. In truth, maybe Esteban was being too optimistic about saving others. He expected for Eric to be able to save someone.
"It sounds like both of us will need time to decompress after all this," Esteban replied with grim resignment. The Engineer braced his hands on his sofa and pushed himself to his feet looking towards the liquor cabinet that was in the room. It did not belong to him, but to the ship's owner. Not that it mattered to Esteban at this point. "Maybe some alcohol will help with that."
Esteban looked over his shoulder at Maelstrom with a half smile. "What's yoru poison?"
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Post by Joe Fischer on Feb 23, 2015 1:52:52 GMT -6
“Pasquale…” Joe said, thinking for a moment, then nodded as he added bacon to the eggs. “Little guy, about two feet tall, unarmed combat instructor, mean as fuck? Hell yeah, I remember him. Man, he hated me, and the feeling was mutual. I think I still got some teeth marks of his on one of my shins, but yeah, he was the walking definition of ‘failure is not an option’.
So were you, Wilson…
“But, getting back to the boss, you’re right,” he said. “If he has the right mind, he could do it, and based on what I’ve seen, I’d say he does.”
He took a quick sample of the eggs and nodded. He grabbed a couple of plates and spooned out an equal portion on each, then added several pieces of toast and brought them over to the table. He then went back, stuffed some silverware in his pocket, poured out two large glasses of orange juice and brought them over to the table. He handed one set of silverware and glass of juice over to Lysander, then started devouring his breakfast.
“So, Vanguard,” he said in between bites. “It’s not like I didn’t believe Shepard before, but it’s a hell of a thing to see it right in front of your eyes. I just hope the Alliance pulls its head out of its ass in time. And if they do, I expect we’re going to get some very polite and slightly desperate letters from them.”
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Post by Maelstrom on Feb 23, 2015 2:28:30 GMT -6
"What's your poison?" Bridges offered, as he made his way to a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
"On a good day, a nice cup of Earl Grey. On a bad day, rye whiskey or brandy," Maelstrom replied, rising to his feet. "Today? I could go for a double, straight up. I don't much care which."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Feb 23, 2015 10:31:19 GMT -6
Joe also had experience with the sergeant who compensated for his small stature with a hugely abrasive manner. Intimidating as he was Eric tolerated him, having dealt with worse back in his old neighborhood. Pasquale’s job was to prepare him and Joe and for the extremes of combat, not to be their friend. “But, getting back to the boss, you’re right,” said Joe. “If he has the right mind, he could do it, and based on what I’ve seen, I’d say he does.” After sampling the scrambled eggs he divided them up between two plates along with a compliment of toast and bacon for each. He brought the two plates over to Eric’s table then went back to pour two glasses of orange juice and grab a pair of forks and knives. No sooner than Joe returned with these items and sat down that he handed Eric his own glass and utensils before commencing to wolf down his meal.
Eric, swirling his glass, felt compelled to comment on his counterpart’s appetite. “Remember: th’ big, white part’s th’ plate,” he said before taking a sip from his glass.
After the first six big bites Joe reduced his intake and brought up another topic.
“So, Vanguard,” he said in between bites. “It’s not like I didn’t believe Shepard before, but it’s a hell of a thing to see it right in front of your eyes. I just hope the Alliance pulls its head out of its ass in time. And if they do, I expect we’re going to get some very polite and slightly desperate letters from them.”
Eric put down his fork after a few moderate bites of bacon and eggs and massaged his wrist, thinking of the message from Willard Cronauer sitting in his omni-tool.
“Some folks may’ve started mailing early… and some want favors before they even listen to ya.”
Eric took in a gulp of juice. “… ehh… they all want proof. Until it’s floatin’ out in front of ‘em n’ vaporizin’ the neighbor’s house they can deny it exists and pretend they still have control… heh, this guy’s book I read; his stories ‘bout all kindsa scary shit from deep space… maybe he wasn’t makin’ it up. Maybe he knew even back then ‘n was tryin’ ta warn everyone…”
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Post by Joe Fischer on Feb 23, 2015 17:34:12 GMT -6
Joe shook his head as he took a gulp of orange juice. "Never could get into that stuff," he said. "Never saw the point in reading about fake people doing fake things.
"But you are right about people ignoring warnings," he said, taking a bite of toast. "Way I see it, people are going to ignore Shepard right up until the Reapers knock on their door, and then they'll all be like, 'Save us, we can't fight them!'
"I almost wish we were salarians," he said. "None of that 'wait for the enemy to attack' nonsense, just do a preemptive strike and end the war before it even begins."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Feb 24, 2015 15:21:08 GMT -6
“I think that’s half the problem right there,” agreed Eric. “We’re not salarian, turian or asari. We’re still too new to th’ neighborhood. Oh they’re lettin’ us walk around - they’re just not rentin’ us an apartment yet. We’re still in th’ credit check phase which I’m sure they’re draggin’ out as long as possible… I’ve heard people complainin’ ‘bout us... ‘shedding simians…’” He took a bite of a folded piece of toast and washed it down.
“… it took goin’ to war with the turians to get everybody on Earth to forget differences n’ work together. Well, mostly everyone. Guess once those mecha squids show up in force us apes won’t seem so bad anymore. Then we can all live like one big, happy family… if we live…”
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