Post by Eric Lysander on Jun 1, 2015 13:10:07 GMT -6
Worthy Shipmates
a collaboration by
Eric Lysander & Shala'Bekk Vas Neema
In the wake of the Cronauer assassination, helping to absolve his friend Maelstrom of the crime, Eric found that, true to the Shadow Broker’s word, interest in his activities by the authorities appeared to have all but disappeared though not by the intended non-lethal means. At first he welcomed the calm and the tedium, preferring the freedom to walk around to the confinement of a hospital bed. But before it had Eric pining for some kind of action he received a reply from an email he had sent a couple of weeks ago. His old teammate Shala’ Bekk vas Neema was available to meet up with him after seeing to some personal matters. He decided on a public place outdoors as a good starting point; meeting inside some bar would give the wrong impression. Ending up in one was a possibility Eric was open to, however.
The demo expert was in civilian clothes – a dark brown leather jacket, dark pants and boots with a red shirt – leaning on a railing overlooking the lake at the Presidium, the towering statue of a krogan perched on a pedestal in the midst of it. Nearby a keeper was fiddling with a console. Eric’s attention was split between it and the statue when he heard a familiar voice. It had a twinge that could only be produced through a respirator.
"Hello, Eric Lysander," Shala said, coming up and leaning against the rail alongside him. "I'm pleased that you are well. I would have visited you in the hospital, but... I was helping another friend get through a difficult time."
"That's funny - I hadda help out someone myself while I was gettin' patched up," said Eric, reminded of Maelstrom's murder charges. He turned to look at her.
"You're lookin' pretty good yourself, Shala. How's life on th' Citadel?"
"It is good," she answered. "I work as a mechanic for an exploration company, and I was just hired as a technical consultant for C-Sec. How is the rest of the team?"
Eric hesitated. He did not wish to sour their reunion but he did not want to lie and say that all was well either.
"I'd like to say that things were great but they're not really. Mr. B put together a good team, though. Anybody wantin' to take us out has to really work for it. These guys slipped up... we'll get 'em back soon enough..."
The N7 shifted back to Shala's situation. "Exploration company, eh? More dig sites or actual pathfinder/first contact kinda stuff?"
"Maybe 'survey' would be more accurate," Shala elaborated. "They investigate worlds that have only received cursory scans from other ships, exploring them thoroughly for resources or evidence of previous civilizations. Did you conduct another mission with Captain Bridges?"
Eric turned around, resting his hips and elbows against the railing. “Yeah, I did… didn’t go as well as we planned…”
Rather than go into his team’s losses he abruptly changed the subject.
“Say, know anyplace ‘round here that serves good dextro and levo food? If you’re up for it I can go for a bite; it’ll be my treat. You can fill me in on your famous friend from the Flotilla.”
Shala nodded. "There's a place not too far from here," she said. "Follow me."
Apollo’s Café was doing moderate business that afternoon. Shala and Eric were fortunate to obtain a table with a good view of the Presidium’s glorious expanse. Their salarian server returned after allowing them a couple of minutes to peruse their menus.
Eric looked up from his menu. “Think I’ll try your Monte Cristo sandwich.”
The salarian eyed Shala. “And you will be having…?”
"I'll have the meat-flavored nutrient paste, thank you," she said.
The server typed in their orders on his own datapad . “Your orders will be ready in about four minutes. Thank you.”
He collected his customers' menus and returned to the main counter. Eric pat his hands on the table.
“So… you know Tali’Zorah, eh? You guys share a berth back on the Fleet?”
"Yes, but probably not as well as you know Captain Shepard," Shala commented as she remembered her friend. "We were born and raised on different ships and on her Pilgrimage she helped him defeat Saren and the geth. Ever since then the admirals had been sending her out on high-priority missions so we only worked together a few times. But I could tell her skill far exceeded mine. If we were ships, I would be a one-man fighter and she would be a dreadnought.
"So, how do you know Captain Shepard?" she then asked her human friend.
“We met literally by accident,” he reminisced. “He was a kid at the time – ten years old. Plowed inta him on the beach while I was runnin’ from… it’s not really important. We became friends after that. We went our separate ways after 'bout a year. Turns up fourteen years later in the N7 training program. Served as his mentor ‘til we split up again. A year or so after that I get posted on this cruiser, Defiant, as executive officer. And guess who should be aboard that very same ship as Third Officer? It’s like fate was constantly taking us away and bringing us back together right when we needed each other.”
The N7 sighed and slouched over the table. “Then Captain Anderson hand picks ‘im to serve on th’ Normandy. I figured it was just a matter of time ‘til we hooked up again like usual… then he disappears… and right after he comes back… he’s arrested n’ charged with mass murder…”
"Tali'Zorah always spoke very highly of him," Shala said after a long pause. "She said that he would always try to find a diplomatic solution to a problem before resorting to violence. If he claims he...did what he did...to stop the Reapers, then...I believe him."
"I can't imagine what it would take to...do what he did," she said after another long pause. "I don't know what word would describe it, but I am sure I don't have it. What of the rest of the crew, how are they? Are there any new members?"
“Maelstrom’s still hangin in there. Iskra and Meldom were on our last mission, too... they were banged up pretty bad in our fight with the Collectors; haven't heard back from either of 'em since we docked here. Murdach... we lost him to th' bugs. We've had another turian and even a quarian at one point but they bailed… God, our turnover rate’s…”
Eric took a moment to reflect on the way the conversation was going. It needed to get back to something more pleasant if he was to follow through on a promise he made to Joe Fischer on the way back to the Citadel.
“So… Tali was the lil’ wonder girl of the Fleet… did you guys ever find time for fun? Ever play any jokes, get drunk? I remember one shore leave Shep and I came back on board a day or so early, we were so wasted. He’d swiped this plastic pink flamingo from the front lawn of this restaurant. Flamingo’s a skinny bird with long legs; you’ll find ‘em in th’ tropics on Earth. Man was usin’ it like a crutch, hobblin’ about on his knees. Hung it on the side o’his bunk afterwards. I mean most times you’d see an animal head or a fish on th’ wall. But that… that was an attention-getter!"
Eric chuckled “Every now and then he would get pink items from the other crew ta tease him ‘bout it. Shirts, glasses, shoes. One time I took down his prized flamingo and replaced it with a sniper rifle I painted pink for a goof. Put the bird at his seat down in the mess along with some seeds. I don’t think anyone other than Shep n’ me knew the difference…”
Shala cocked her head.
“I’m having a hard time imagining Captain Shepard doing anything like that, especially after hearing so much about him from Tali’Zorah and Lia’Vael. As for us getting drunk or playing jokes, no, that never happened. All of our food production goes towards… actual food, not alcohol, and as for playing jokes, we’re too… community-minded…t o do such things. In the Fleet, the only form of entertainment we really have are stories, everything else takes up too much space and resources. And while we can’t do it, we also hold dancers in high regard.”
“Little wonder you never hear about quarian comedians,” commented Eric. “But dancers…? That’s pretty interesting…”
The salarian attending Eric and Shala earlier returned. “Here are your orders. One meat nutrient paste… annnd one… Monte Cristo sandwich…”
The server stood by a moment to ensure that his customers were content with their requests. “Enjoy,” he said as he headed off for another table.
Eric looked alternately at his sandwich and his friend.
“Shepard can muck in with the rest of the brass when he hasta. But get ‘im outta uniform and it’s party time. His folks’re th’ same way – they really weren’t inta order n’ discipline as much as other military families. But they could play th’ part when they had to – what did Hannah call it? Oh yeah… they’d ‘pass out sticks’ and get all serious and ‘yes sir-no sir’ when th’ brass showed up.”
The N7 took a bite and spent nearly a half minute chewing before he swallowed. “Wow…! They really did a good job on this. How’s yours?”
She nodded in approval of her meal.
"Because we eat an all-vegetable diet--it's too inefficient to raise animals for their meat--eating something like this would give me digestive problems. But now I'm able to process it without any problems. I've heard that some humans actually choose not to eat meat. It must be so nice to have that choice instead of having it made for you."
“It’s true – humans do have that choice.” Eric took another bite of his sandwich and swallowed. “Mainly for health or humane reasons. Being kind to animals although nowadays most meat’s vat grown. It’s not really alive as in it can move about and fend for itself. Can’t see myself becoming vegetarian– I love steak too much. I’ve always said the day I see a vegetarian beat a meat eater in an arm wrestling match I’d reconsider.”
Eric thought of something over another bite. “Naah… maintainin’ protein vats on a ship’d be a drain on resources. I was gonna say that’s an alternative to keepin’ live animals. So pets are outta th’ question, too, huh?”
Shala's head bobbed in reply. "Our resources are so limited that we can't have any animals in the Fleet," she said. "And the living quarters are so..."
Her head shook disapprovingly.
"This is why I like the Citadel. Sure, there are lots of people, but it never feels crowded. Someday, I'm going to try solid food. I expect it will not be pleasant, but I'm not going to eat like this the rest of my life."
"Take it one bite at a time," Eric advised and winked. "Leave yourself plenty o'elbow room..."
Shala laughed. "Very well, I will," she said, taking her time with the paste.
Eric allowed his friend to finish her meal as he finished his own. He waited a few minutes allowing the food to settle, each looking about at their surroundings. Now seemed like a good time to bring up Joseph's problem. Eric pondered a good way to lead into that subject.
He opened with "So Citadel life agrees with you? Does that mean you've given up on your Pilgrimage or are you taking a break from it for a while to get your bearings?"
"Yes, I think it does agree with me," said Shala. "Even though my people have traveled all over the galaxy, we rarely take time to...'smell the roses', is that the saying you humans have? Here, I get to see and experience so many things that my people have only heard of. As for my Pilgrimage, I completed it before coming to work for Captain Bridges..."
She was silent for a moment.
“You sound a little homesick,” Eric observed. “They still let ya visit, right…? Or is it that you’re not allowed to come back if you decide you don’t wanna live on a ship?”
"No, it's not that," she explained. "My Pilgrimage had some...difficulties. As for returning to the Fleet, I can do that. The only way I could not return would be if I did something threatened the security of the Flotilla and was exiled. So I would be allowed back, but I could expect to be given...what is the human saying, 'the cold shoulder'?"
"The sense of community of my people is strong, especially given our three centuries of traveling the galaxy. Anyone who chooses to leave voluntarily is seen as placing themselves above the rest, so while they will be allowed back, being welcomed back will take a long time."
Shala's voice rose as she stated. "My Pilgrimage, and serving with Captain Bridges, opened my eyes. My people are seen as scavengers, parasites and thieves and until we start making meaningful contributions to the galactic community that is all we will be seen as!"
She looked down at her plate. "Sorry," she said, looking back up after a moment. "It's something I feel very passionate about."
Shala’s last statement about making a contribution was as good an opening as Eric could hope for. He drew himself up in his seat.
“Uh, Shala…? There’s somethin’ I need to ask ya. I… promised someone that I would but… it’s entirely up to you if you wanna do it or not. Personally I’m not too keen on it…”
Her head tilted again. She reached out and touched his arm.
"What is it, Eric?"
Eric breath caught as he inhaled, noting Shala’s hand.
Well, here goes everything…
“There’s this guy on our team, Joe Fischer… he’s basically a younger, blonder, taller, bulkier version of me… sorta. A good kid. A good soldier, no reason he shouldn’t be since he’s also N7… on our last mission we hit a Collector base, found a lotta frightening stuff goin’ on in there… Joe… found this inactive geth head. He wants to hack into it n’ see what data’s in there. He wanted ta know if I knew any quarians that could help him. I tried talkin’ him out of it but the kid’s got a hard head…”
The demo expert felt a pit in his stomach in spite of the satisfying lunch he had finished. Would Shala be angry and walk away thinking that the whole purpose of their reunion was only a favor for his teammate?
“The geth…” she said, looking away in silence for quite some time.
“You remember the Alarei incident?” she said finally, looking back at him. “My father was part of the team that was sent over to retake it. He…didn’t make it."
“You should’ve seen my mother,” she continued, looking off again. “She always hated the geth. A few times I heard her suggest—out of frustration, mind you—that we should destroy our homeworld. She said it would be a high price to pay, but she was willing to do it if it meant the extinction of the geth."
“When she heard the cause of the Alarei incident, she had to be restrained and sedated because she swore if she ever saw Tali’Zorah, she would kill her for what she had done. She was convinced Tali was involved, even if Captain Shepard helped clear her of treason."
“I went to the funeral for all those that were lost. I went there to tell Tali’Zorah about how much she had hurt my family. I was so angry… after the funeral, I approached her, ready to loose on her my grief, my hurt. And then I saw her pain. She had already lost her mother from infection. And with her father gone now, she was alone."
“I hugged her and said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss’.”
Prolonged silence again. Then Shala addressed Eric's uneasy query.
“Artificial intelligence is not my field of expertise, but I live with another quarian who is, I’m sure she will do it. But know this: after we’re done, whether any data is found or not, I will destroy it. If it somehow activates and gets into the Citadel’s systems…"
She shook her head. “I will not be responsible for another Alarei...”
Eric also found himself falling into a memory.
“I don’t want Joe or anyone to have to… kill friends… to save them…”
*******
Lieutenant Edward Brushell had his rifle trained on his superior against his will, his armor following the commands of an unseen puppeteer...
The geth device his unit secured did not have any discernable source of power and so was thought inert. This conclusion was in error as the unit’s tech expert attempted to remove a memory module from the device for closer examination while the others rested and awaited extraction. The static spark was enough to rouse the AI in that module which then jumped into and overrode the tech’s suit systems. As Eric and the rest of his unit tried to rescue the tech, one by one their armor fell under the AI’s control. Eric tore himself out of his own armor, thankful that the planet they were on had an atmosphere safe for humans, and tried to help whoever was left. In the end a twelve-member unit was reduced to two by way of friendly fire or fatal, self-inflicted wounds…
“… y-you have to kill me, sir – I can’t stop it…!”
“Fight it n’ stop moving! I nail the power cell on your back and you’re free!”
Every time Eric positioned himself to get a clear shot at Edward’s back, the AI maneuvered Edward to face him. The only way to destroy the power cell now was a straight shot through the torso, shredding vital organs.
“It knows what you’re trying to do. It won’t let you save me-”
“Shut up, Ed! We can do this. I can keep this up all day, all night if I have to. Wear th’ fucker’s battery out!”
Edward felt his trigger finger slowly compress.
“… Just do it, sir… please…”
Eric had Edward in his sights, frozen in place. Time was quickly running out.
“Sir… sir… SIR-!!!“
*****
“Sir…? Sir…?”
Eric blinked rapidly and focused his eyes. He was back at the Apollo Café with Shala and a concerned server staring at him.
“Are you all right, sir?”
“Yeah-yeah… peachy, “said Eric, returning to his normal self.
“Would you and the young lady like some dessert or do you want the check?” asked the salarian.
Eric’s eyes went to the table and then to Shala. “Do you… want any dessert, Shala?”
Her head shook in the negative.
Looking back to the server again while activating his omni-tool Eric said “I think we’re both good…”
The server transmitted the bill to Eric’s omni-tool. He commented on the somewhat steep price but said that the quality of the food was worth it. Eric sent over payment to the restaurant’s virtual cashier and as well as a respectable tip for the server who drew back Shala’s seat to assist in her getting up. They left the restaurant and soon found themselves by the lake again. Eric rested his elbows over the safety railing.
“Thanks for helping me out with Joe… say, have you heard anything about River? She was barely hangin’ on when we left her… I’m sure she got the help she needed…”
"You don't know?" Shala asked. "Since I left, I haven't heard anything. I thought that since you had stayed on, you would know more than me."
"Haven't heard a thing since she was carted away to the hospital... heh, maybe she retired for all we know. Preferred a longer lifespan..."
Eric sighed, looking upon Shala.
"... it was good seein' ya again. Maybe... maybe next time we'll have brighter things to talk about. And drop me a line, don't be a stranger. These're dangerous times we're in; we need all th' friends we can get!"
"I will," she said. "And I'll pray for the ancestors to guide you in your future journeys...even if you aren't quarian."
Eric chuckled out loud in spite of himself. He shook his own head, faced Shala and explained his outburst, knowing how callous he must appear to her.
“Most everyone else says ‘so long, be seein ya’ or ‘catch ya later…’ no one’s ever prayed for me before…” He looked away to the lake. “Never thoughta myself bein’ worth a prayer.”
Several moments of quiet passed between the two friends before Shala bridged the gap, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm.
"You are my crewmate, you are always worthy of prayer," she said.
Eric rested his hand over hers, patting it.
“Thank you... I’m honored. I’m not a prayin’ man myself but… I wish you well in whatever you do. And wherever you go... ”
For a moment he thought about hugging her but then dismissed that act as crossing a line, making an emotional moment even more so. They both had their lives to get on with and they needed to rebuild some resolve.
He took in a large breath and said “Well, I’d better be on my way. I’m sure you have things ta take care of, too.”
She nodded. "May the ancestors guide you on your journey."
The two former shipmates parted ways, each heading for an uncertain future. Hoping that either prayers or dumb luck would allow them to meet again with better stories to tell.