Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2014 5:02:22 GMT -6
Two days into the journey to the Citadel, Graal had realized two things: life on a freighter was boring and he hated space travel. He could handle the first problem—imagining new ways to kill salarians provided an endless source of amusement—but he couldn’t handle the second one.
He knew it was the only way to travel from one end of the galaxy to another, but all he could think about was how much his life depended on a machine full of tiny moving parts and that the people in charge of them were competent enough to keep them running right.
While the mostly human crew seemed competent enough, he knew they couldn’t watch every single piece on the ship, instead relying on other machines to tell them if something was wrong. The whole thing just seemed doomed to failure. He decided right then and there that once he completed this job, he would return to Tuchanka and never leave it again, clan chief be damned. If Wrex ordered him off-world again, he’d tell him to go play with Kalros, the mother of all thresher maws.
*****
“I’m not afraid of you,” came a voice from his right, interrupting his brooding.
He looked over to see a human child, a male. “My dad says to stay away from krogan, but I’m not afraid of you,” he said.
“Good for you,” Graal said. “And if I decided to kill you, how would you stop me?”
This surprised the boy, as evidenced by his widening eyes.
“Not being scared is important, but having a really big gun helps,” Graal said, and lumbered off.
*****
As he walked down another hallway, he checked his omnitool to see how much more time he had before reaching the Citadel: four days, so many hours, that many minutes…
He shut it off. Four more days with nothing to kill, he thought. How do the other races stand it?
Not all races are like that, the rational voice in his head countered. Some can go their whole lives without killing anyone, let alone harming them.
So weak, he thought.
He wondered what it looked like outside and suddenly wished there was a window for him to look out of, then just as quickly banished the thought from his mind. Looking out into the great big emptiness of space would only remind him exactly how tiny and fragile the ship truly was. All it took was for one of those little machines to break, then there would be a hull breach, he would get sucked into space, and then he would float in the void for all eternity.
Four more days...
“Attention, this is the captain speaking,” said a voice over a loudspeaker. “There is a vessel preparing to dock with us. It is a pirate ship. For your own safety, lock yourselves in your quarters and give them no interference. Let them take what they want and they’ll leave us in peace.”
Of course they will, he thought sarcastically. Among his people, picking on those weaker than oneself was itself a sign of weakness. To become strong, one had to face strong enemies. He had been told most other races did not think this way, that picking on the weak was preferable as it led to easy victories.
Such thinking baffled him. Pick on the weak, and you become weak yourself, he thought. What happens when you face something stronger than yourself?
He smiled as he began checking his weapons. This trip had just gotten a lot less boring.
He knew it was the only way to travel from one end of the galaxy to another, but all he could think about was how much his life depended on a machine full of tiny moving parts and that the people in charge of them were competent enough to keep them running right.
While the mostly human crew seemed competent enough, he knew they couldn’t watch every single piece on the ship, instead relying on other machines to tell them if something was wrong. The whole thing just seemed doomed to failure. He decided right then and there that once he completed this job, he would return to Tuchanka and never leave it again, clan chief be damned. If Wrex ordered him off-world again, he’d tell him to go play with Kalros, the mother of all thresher maws.
*****
“I’m not afraid of you,” came a voice from his right, interrupting his brooding.
He looked over to see a human child, a male. “My dad says to stay away from krogan, but I’m not afraid of you,” he said.
“Good for you,” Graal said. “And if I decided to kill you, how would you stop me?”
This surprised the boy, as evidenced by his widening eyes.
“Not being scared is important, but having a really big gun helps,” Graal said, and lumbered off.
*****
As he walked down another hallway, he checked his omnitool to see how much more time he had before reaching the Citadel: four days, so many hours, that many minutes…
He shut it off. Four more days with nothing to kill, he thought. How do the other races stand it?
Not all races are like that, the rational voice in his head countered. Some can go their whole lives without killing anyone, let alone harming them.
So weak, he thought.
He wondered what it looked like outside and suddenly wished there was a window for him to look out of, then just as quickly banished the thought from his mind. Looking out into the great big emptiness of space would only remind him exactly how tiny and fragile the ship truly was. All it took was for one of those little machines to break, then there would be a hull breach, he would get sucked into space, and then he would float in the void for all eternity.
Four more days...
“Attention, this is the captain speaking,” said a voice over a loudspeaker. “There is a vessel preparing to dock with us. It is a pirate ship. For your own safety, lock yourselves in your quarters and give them no interference. Let them take what they want and they’ll leave us in peace.”
Of course they will, he thought sarcastically. Among his people, picking on those weaker than oneself was itself a sign of weakness. To become strong, one had to face strong enemies. He had been told most other races did not think this way, that picking on the weak was preferable as it led to easy victories.
Such thinking baffled him. Pick on the weak, and you become weak yourself, he thought. What happens when you face something stronger than yourself?
He smiled as he began checking his weapons. This trip had just gotten a lot less boring.