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Post by Esteban Bridges on Mar 7, 2015 2:16:03 GMT -6
Esteban paused, looking down at the data pads, reviewing their content in his mind. Many of them contains strange blueprints, star maps, and still untranslated characters. His eyes shifted from datapad to datapad, until they fell on the one Maelstrom was holding. That one....
"There was a little bit on Cerberus," Esteban replied, pointing at the datapad on the mercenary's hands. "Mainly dealing with the Skyllian Verge. Elysium, I think. But... the data didn't use that name. I was still trying to translate it.."
Esteban got up to get some more alcohol, seeing that his cup was unexpectedly empty. He thought he was only sipping. "It seems like Cerberus is sponsoring a hospital there, or some other sort of clinic."
Esteban's voice trailed to give Maelstrom a moment to look through the available data while he refilled his drink. He took a sip, savoring the flavor.... "ahh..." he whispered, heading back towards the sofa. "There may be more. than that, but that's all I found so far."
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 7, 2015 6:14:39 GMT -6
"There may be more. than that, but that's all I found so far," Bridges replied.
"I know our contract doesn't have any provisions regarding this, but I'd appreciate a copy of any data we've retrieved on them, if you wouldn't mind," Maelstrom said, before taking a sip of his own drink. Except in certain situations, he tended to nurse his drinks more than most men. He was in no rush. "Of course, I would keep my source secret. I always do, except when instructed to make a point of who's exacting revenge."
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 7, 2015 20:27:29 GMT -6
Eric took a breath and pressed the chime button on the wall console beside Esteban's door.
"Hey, it's Eric. Is this where the party's at?" he said, trying to sound a little more upbeat. "I got chips... and some green stuff in a jar. It's not movin' so I think it's still safe ta eat..."
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Mar 10, 2015 1:19:10 GMT -6
"Come in!" Esteban shouted, a touch uncharacteristic of him. The alcohol was starting to take effect. He took a sip and headed for the stereo system while Lysander made his way into the room. Esteban was not completely sure why, but having music felt right.
"Have you had the chance to listen to a traditional Asari symphony?" he asked to no one in the room in particular. "There's very little in the galaxy quite like it. Everyone hears something a little bit different. Maybe you will hear the breeze of the wind. Or the laughter of a loved one. Or maybe it will trigger a long lost memery..." His voice slowly turned wistful as his hand passed over the room's stereo system, activating it....
Soft music flowed from the speakers....
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 10, 2015 1:32:24 GMT -6
Maelstrom knew the effects of traditional asari music, thanks to the twins, and they were unpredictable for him. Sometimes he heard the sounds of the life and family he was forced to leave behind. Other times, he heard a peaceful woodland stream, swelled with the water of the springtime thaw. Then there were the nights he heard the voice of Emily, the real Emily, or the whispers of the tank Cerberus locked him in. The way the ship's resident Consorts described its effect on him, it was a sort of emotional barometer.
He did not care to test his mental state after their recent failure of a mission. Maelstrom abruptly downed his drink, hoping to drown away anything the music could offer save the measurable notes being played. He walked over and helped himself to a refill.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 10, 2015 14:22:14 GMT -6
“Come in!” shouted Eric’s employer. Eric paced into Esteban’s quarters. As the financier of all their adventures so far it would follow that he had the best accommodations. Eric sat in an available plush seat, taken a bit by surprise at how comfortable and sunk in he was. He leaned forward to set down the jar of salsa-esque matter and bag of corn chips on the table in front of him as Esteban spoke aloud, already falling under the spell of his own drinking.
"Have you had the chance to listen to a traditional Asari symphony? There's very little in the galaxy quite like it. Everyone hears something a little bit different. Maybe you will hear the breeze of the wind. Or the laughter of a loved one. Or maybe it will trigger a long lost memory..."
Esteban passed his hand over the stereo and soft music began to play. Strings plucked and bowed in tingling, lingering measures with strange mellow horns that sounded more like flowing brooks. Esteban appeared to surrender to its strains as Maelstrom quickly emptied his glass and got up to refill it. Eric was at least grateful that it was not sensory rock and roll playing. He was not sure how to comport himself. The music did not sound happy nor was it depressing; it hovered in an unfathomable in between that the Alliance dropout was trying to pinpoint. Then the memory hit him:
The first time he left Earth.
He had left a goodbye vid for his father and sister, if she even cared to read it. He did not say too much as he feared he was being sought by police for the fireworks plant fire. His uncle Ray secured a job with the Systems Alliance marines as a warehouse supervisor offworld as part of the Consley-Schachter Accord with the Turian Hierarchy. Good money for civilians who wanted the job and could tolerate dealing with turians after the First Contact War. Ray had even managed a spot for Eric as a busboy in a non-human establishment at their destination, Planet Bysorrn. It would be a fresh start for both of them. Eric was in a swirl in emotions, ashamed and sad that he would be leaving his home and everything he knew behind all because he could never keep himself out of trouble. Excited and hopeful that he was about to experience and live what he had only read about, seen in vids or play acted through games and toys. Boarding the shuttle and takeoff from Chicago Intergalactic Spaceport was no different from other trips he had taken from standard airports with his family across the continent at first. But then he found himself flying higher than he had ever been, the blue of the sky peeling away to the black of space, the curvature of the earth becoming more pronounced the further away he travelled. Before the shuttle docked with the main transport over Luna Eric caught one last glimpse of Earth in the distance, putting his hand upon the window like so many of those characters did in their vids. It was then that the reality of it all hit him, the profound sense of disbelief and wonder of those early explorers that they had once made their home on something so beautiful and fragile. Eric wanted to say something, emote something but his throat kept getting caught. His uncle knew somewhat better and held a sick bag in front of Eric, which he quickly availed himself of…
Eric found himself back in the present again in Esteban Bridges’ quarters. Fortunately the ending of that remembrance was not duplicated upon the deck.
“…yep… stage 4… somebody wanna pour me a cognac? Like now?”
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 10, 2015 17:39:45 GMT -6
As soon as Joe stepped into Bridges’ quarters, he recognized the music for what it was. He had done several joint missions with the asari, and their post-mission gatherings would feature their music, with every member on his team hearing and feeling something different.
This time, he felt inspired to call his mother. He knew she was probably worried sick about him, given his last call.
And I could certainly go for some of her chocolate chip cookies…
*****
“Hey Maelstrom, here you go!” he called out, throwing two bags of pretzels at the biotic. “I brought both the straight and the twisty kind, seeing as how you didn’t specify which one you wanted.”
He then pulled a fistful of cigars and passed one out to each of the other attendees before moving on to his employer’s liquor cabinet.
“Serrice Ice Brandy, very nice, boss,” he said as he pulled it out. “Okay, let’s start with a couple of toasts!”
[Pours out brandy to anyone who offers their glass]
“First off, to Murchadh!” he said, holding out his glass. “I couldn’t understand a single word he said, but like the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. His actions said he was a stand-up guy, and I was glad to have known him. To Murchadh!”
He drained his glass.
[Refills the glass of anyone who joined him]
“And second, to our fearless leader!” he said, turning to the engineer. “Boss, you brought us all together, led us into the lions’ den and hacked their main computer, with a quick stop along the way to take down a Collector General by yourself.
“You know, I have a nickname for a civilian on the battlefield: Dead Man Walking,” he continued. “But not you, boss. You got guts, an iron will, tenacity, a quick mind and incredible mission focus, and I think you could’ve been an N7 if you had joined up. I’m proud to have fought with you and look forward to kicking more ass with you! TO ESTEBAN!”
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 10, 2015 18:22:01 GMT -6
“…yep… stage 4… somebody wanna pour me a cognac? Like now?”
Maelstrom responded, taking the bottle over to the team-lead and topping his glass off, before returning it to its place and leaning against the wall next to it.
Joe entered with his usual enthusiasm, and Maelstrom caught both bags of pretzels thrown to him and set them on the table next to the alcohol- what he figured the members of the team would be most interested in anyway. He grabbed a handful of the twisty ones, knowing he needed to eat. His appetite was gone, but he knew he would pay for it later if he did not eat soon, after all the biotic power he used earlier.
Joe topped Maelstrom's drink off before offering a toast, which he drank to. He drank to the second toast as well, wondering if Fischer would stop finding things to drink to before the liquor cabinet was empty. Though he had already had more than usual, he refilled his glass again, wanting to savor this glass. That, and it could provide a needed moment to think if anyone started asking hard questions.
Not in the most talkative mood, he made his way over to the liquor cabinet and silently read off the labels of each item present. Liquor was a fascination of his, and if the brandy and cognac offered were any indication, the owner had good taste.
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Mar 11, 2015 1:13:05 GMT -6
Esteban was not expecting the flood of reactions to the Asari symphony. Maelstrom managed to lock up more. Esteban did not believe such a thing was possible, yet it was happening. Eric said something about stage four before drinking like a man trying to forget. Joseph's reaction disturbed Esteban most of all, somehow cheering up immediately. This song managed to crush the soul of two of the most experienced killers Esteban ever saw, and the same darkness makes Joseph want to nearly dance and sing.
The Engineer sipped from his glass, raising his glass up as Joseph toasted. He gave a courteous smile and a nod. "Thank you," Estebn replied courteously. He wasn't sure what to add, though the hesitation did not show on his face. "Given the impossible odds we faced, I could not imagine going into the mouth of hell with anyone else."
Esteban raisedd his glass.....
"To all of us," he offered as a toast.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 11, 2015 10:18:32 GMT -6
In a haze of yesteryear reminiscence the drinks washed down quickly. As Eric came back into the present moment he recalled Maelstrom and Esteban being affected by their drink of choice and the ambient music. More of a somber catharsis than the ‘party’ his employer claimed to be hosting. Maelstrom had poured cognac into Eric’s glass when Joe burst into the room, a man trying too hard to lift spirits which may well have included his own. He passed out cigars and offered toasts to Murdach and Esteban. Esteban gave a toast to his team of mercenaries. Eric twirled his cigar in one hand as he stood and placed it in his shirt pocket as he raised his three quarter emptied glass. “Now I have a toast,” he said, looking to each person in the room and stopping at Joe as an indication that his mood was a bit too chipper for circumstances. “To the fallen…”
Eric looked away to his upheld glass.
“To all the victims, those we tried desperately to save but couldn’t… may they know peace… may they know that their lives meant something… that the… things responsible for their deaths will get their due… that there’s no place in this galaxy the bastards can hide from us… we’ll get ‘em all… or die tryin’…”
Eric sloshed the last of his drink briefly between his cheeks before swallowing.
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 11, 2015 12:19:28 GMT -6
Maelstrom downed his drink at Lysander's toast. With that, he set the glass down. He could never let himself get too intoxicated; he always needed to be able to fight. Maybe he could drink more in a while. He discretely hid the cigar, not wanting to insult Fischer but having always found smoking to be one of the most disgusting and least sensible of all vices.
"If any of you want to take these things on, I mean really take them on, I'll make a point to be there. I have other obligations too, though. I might not be there every time you call, but always go to the trouble. If it's possible, I'll fight with you. These things need to die."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 11, 2015 16:42:41 GMT -6
Joe joined in the other toasts, seeing as how everyone joined in his--even if he did think Lysander's was a bit of a downer--and nodded at Maelstrom's remarks.
"Yeah, what he said," he commented. " 'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.' "
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 12, 2015 11:50:11 GMT -6
“No matter what the blood tests say,” added Eric with a momentary smirk and then offered an apology. “Sorry – had to get that off my chest. The toast, I mean. That music… B... sorry but ya gotta show a little mercy with your sound system, man. We coulda used that to demoralize th’ enemy!” He thought a moment and then went through his omni-tool in search of a file.
“If we really need ta perk up again, I think I have just th’ thing… a little gem from Earth in the waaay back when. Seems like a good fit here… here we go…” Eric engaged the MP9 function on his omni-tool and its speakers twanged out an old electric guitar riff accompanied by an understated bass guitar and drumbeat…
[Author’s Note: The song is”Ride Captain Ride” by Blues Image]
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 12, 2015 12:13:27 GMT -6
As the final guitar solo faded out on Lysander's song, Joe nodded.
"Not bad, Pops, but a little too slow for my tastes," he said as he brought up his omnitool. "If you really want to get this party started, try this on for size."
Immediately the air was filled with a fast drum solo and an energetic guitar solo quickly joined.
[AUTHOR NOTE: Song is "Lust for Life" by Iggy Pop]
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 12, 2015 14:03:32 GMT -6
Maelstrom opened his omni-tool interface and scrolled through his library of music. Aside from classical, which he got the distinct impression the others were in no mood for, most of what he found would only serve to push them into a deeper depression. American Pie by Don McClean, Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel, Long As I Can See The Light by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, Embrace Me You Child by Carly Simon, Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright, Blowin' In The Wind by Peter Paul and Marry, Viva La Vida by Coldplay, and others. Of course, he realized his current mood was probably prompting him to pick the less optimistic selections.
In his mind, with a few exceptions, most musicians had abandoned music as an art and developed it as a mass-market product after about 1980.
He thought of playing one of the opening themes from the old animated series containing the character he modeled his faceplate display to imitate, but he thought better of it. While oddly uplifting, they too spoke too much of despair. Chuckling, he said, "You guys don't want to hear my playlist."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 12, 2015 16:52:51 GMT -6
"Hey, we just stormed a Collector base and kicked them in the nuts, not to mention facing down a Reaper," Joe said. "I think we can handle whatever you dish out, Hercules."
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 12, 2015 18:44:23 GMT -6
"If I were taking that as a challenge," Maelstrom replied, "I don't think anyone would appreciate it."
Instead, he queued up Ode to Joy by Beethoven and closed his eyes as he savored the gentle melody.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Mar 13, 2015 19:35:51 GMT -6
Eric figured that a man like Maelstrom would prefer something much like the strains of a classical Earth orchestra. A safer bet than asari music much more purposefully crafted and tuned to stimulate emotions and remembrances. Yet the music's crescendo and main theme triggered another memory in Eric, a more pleasant one this time of another of his late uncle Simon's vids.
A band of terrorists. A warrior taking them down on his own a couple at a time. Authorities that hinder rather than help. A criminal mastermind's growing frustration as his men are eliminated and his plans are slowly going to hell.
Yippee-ki-yay, mother fucker!
The senior N7's lips stretched wide as he stammered and tried to stifle his laughter. He held up a hand to reassure his apprehensive friend in the Collector armor.
"Mal... it's... not the song... I mean it is but... it's not that it's bad - it's a really good piece... considering what we just went through... it does fit..."
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Post by Maelstrom on Mar 13, 2015 19:54:30 GMT -6
Maelstrom felt a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, but he did not let it bloom into full-blown joy. It felt almost disrespectful to the lives lost on their mission to allow too much gaiety so soon after their departure from this often-cruel life. "I'm glad you enjoy it." He poured another drink.
He walked back over to the couch and collapsed down on it, next to Lysander. "Thing is, I'm wondering how much longer 'joy' will last. If we had any doubts before, I think it's pretty safe to say we know the reapers exist now. Shepard is right. I mean, I suspected as much, but to have actually experienced it firsthand... makes you look at the galaxy through a different set of glasses." Raising his cup, he added, "In this case, cognac ones."
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Post by Joe Fischer on Mar 14, 2015 14:16:19 GMT -6
Joe nodded. "Think we'll have any better luck than Shepard at getting people to listen?" he asked. "Certainly makes you think about things..."
He looked over at Bridges. "Hey boss, I don't know what you're planning to do with Murchadh's stuff, but if it's okay with you, I'll handle it, I figure we owe him that much," he said. "Just mailing it back seems...impersonal."
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