Aria's Advisor (Mass Effect SI)
- Thread starter Xeno Major
- Start date
- Location
- West Michigan
On Omega? Quantity.The Eromancer said:
SemiSaneAuthor
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- Location
- Sol-3, Memetic Quarantined World - For English
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Also you don't know if they are really interested in you or are using you in an attempt to take over omega or some other plan.Reece said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Good idea, but the cute doctor (Holly) is an ex-commando.Retsof said:... So go for the cute doctor then.
I tried to show a bit of her badassery with the arm-lock she put me in, but there wasn't really much of an opportunity for it.
Plus, Holly has a severe British accent, which I do not consider sexy in an older woman.
There's normal people on Omega, like Nef and a bunch of others... it's just that those people usually end up dead, moving out, or incredibly badass after a long enough period of time.Reece said:
Everyone on Omega goes through this process. I'm just starting along the process, so we'll see where that ends up.
- Location
- Oblivion
Well, say hello to Mr. Corner for us when you go visit during your breakdown.
Aren't you hearing her through your omni-tool translator?Xeno Major said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Where do you think she learned how to heal humans?
I mean, we're a fairly complex piece of biology (or whatever is the proper term), and it's reasonable to assume that while the asari and the batarians are fairly (read: extremely distantly) close, something that might cure an asari might be a severe flesh-eating bacteria to us Humans.
Aria and Liselle like talking in English anyway, though Vasir speaks through translator.
Think of it as a way of showing off that you are intelligent enough to juggle around multiple languages, in a stereotypically arrogant-yet-understated asari manner.
I mean, we're a fairly complex piece of biology (or whatever is the proper term), and it's reasonable to assume that while the asari and the batarians are fairly (read: extremely distantly) close, something that might cure an asari might be a severe flesh-eating bacteria to us Humans.
Aria and Liselle like talking in English anyway, though Vasir speaks through translator.
Think of it as a way of showing off that you are intelligent enough to juggle around multiple languages, in a stereotypically arrogant-yet-understated asari manner.
47
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Chapter 9.3 (Snip 4)
"Your friend is better looking than your usual company, Feron." Aria calls out as she gracefully strides down from her Couch. "Which means she can't be your friend."
I exhale as quietly as I can, reclining on the Couch. When Anto had told me over the comm. that Liara had arrived, I'd rushed up to get to Aria's meeting room as fast as I could, but I didn't want Liara or Feron knowing that.
The meeting room was upstairs from the club's floor, safe from 'casual bystanders', and was semi-safe from listening devices. It was a simple enclosed room, and the only guards Aria had inside were Grizz and me. It was, in short, the place to meet Aria when you had something important to discuss but wanted to keep it quiet.
And, of course, Aria had another one of her Couches in here.
Vasir had managed to help me get dressed in record time, slapping on another medi-gel patch and throwing away that sling. I didn't want to make Aria appear weaker by having a lieutenant appear so obviously injured (if I could even be considered a lieutenant, that is).
I'd protested, of course, thinking that I was going to tear open the bonding agent holding my artery together, but Vasir had simply chuckled at my inexperience.
"Doctors are all the same," Vasir had explained to me as we strode into my tidy room. "They tell you to not risk re-opening a wound and 'make it any worse', but there's not much chance of that actually happening. The bonding agent that's holding you together is made of a specialized derivative of omni-gel, Nick, so don't worry about ripping out any stiches."
"So the spook talk is just so that she can scare me into submission?" I ask, brows furrowed in confusion as I pull on a new pair of tan climbing pants one-handed (dressing yourself almost completely one-handed is something I picked up in rowing).
"Pretty much." Vasir answers with a shrug. "That stuff will hold together under a lot of rough situations. You're only going to be sitting down, so you'll be fine."
So here I am, leaning back on the left-hand side of Aria's Couch, watching her smoothly take control of the discussion, the perfect mix of lethality and grace.
Unable to help myself, I shiver as Aria reminds me that I'm working for a criminal warlord.
No matter how useful Aria is to my plans, I can't help but think that if I hadn't had my valuable intel, she'd have calmly tossed my corpse into the waste vents without a second thought.
Anto leaves us alone with Liara and Feron, and the business talks start.
Liara leaves the talking to Feron, but that doesn't mean she's idle. She looks around, her bright eyes glancing at Grizz, then at… me?
Shit, I'm looking at her!
Our eyes meet, and Liara's narrow in suspicion.
Panicked, I shift my gaze to Feron, but Liara's still staring straight at me.
Unbidden, my left hand twitches once.
Feron and Aria are still discussing business, so I start listening, hoping that Liara will lose interest quickly.
"And you… I know you. You're one of Shepard's crew." Aria is saying, lifting Liara's head back towards her, all whilst wearing a predator's grin. "I wonder if you could speak when Shepard was alive? Or has Nick over there stolen your voice?"
Huh? That wasn't in the comic.
Oh, right. 'Cause of me.
Butterflies… wonderful, the first of the butterflies.
Liara crosses her arms, matching Aria's cold glare easily as the Pirate Queen steps around her, as if inspecting Liara for a dancer's position. Liara's glare only seems to encourage Aria, as her grin widens, turning almost shark-like.
"The Shadow Broker may be powerful, but Omega is mine. Of course I know about the transfer – but I'm not a running a charity here. Tell me, Feron, why's the Broker so interested in Shepard?" Aria interrogates, smoothly taking control of the situation.
"I – I don't know, Aria; that's what we're trying to-" Feron tries to bluff, but his slight hesitation is his downfall.
Well, that, and my intel.
Heh.
Aria's leading Feron around like a deluded puppy, always having control of the conversation, every movement being watched carefully, lest she turn on him.
Oddly enough, Liara is controlling her emotions better than Feron is, though that might just be because she doesn't fully understand how dangerous Aria is.
"Bullshit!" Aria retorts, turning away from the unlikely pair with a smirk on her face.
Unseen to Aria, Liara balls up her fists in a surprisingly human gesture of anger, gritting her teeth at Aria's manner. Okay, so maybe Feron is controlling his emotions better than she is.
"You might be a two-bit information broker, Feron, but even you aren't that incompetent. You figured out what the Broker wants even before you agreed to help little Liara here, like any half-decent information broker would. So tell me, Feron, what does the Broker wants with Shepard?" Aria questions, turning back to face the duo just as Liara steps forward.
"Because the Shadow Broker wants to sell Shepard's body to the Collectors!" Liara snaps, standing up to Aria with an expression of righteous anger. "They're the ones that want Shepard's body!"
"And here I thought that was you." I mutter under my breath.
The sound of my voice unexpectedly carries, and everyone turns to look straight at me. Liara and Feron looked a little confused why I spoke, while Aria's giving me a cautious look, as if judging whether or not to allow me to continue.
"Something you'd like to say, Nick?" Aria offers, waving a hand as if to give me the floor.
"No – not really, boss." I reply quickly, cheeks blushing a little at the sudden attention.
"Oh, but I insist." Aria says, every word making my heart sink further. "Given that you're my expert on the Collectors, it's about time you earned your keep."
I lock eyes with her, horrified that she's putting me on the spot, but Aria shows no sign of yielding.
"Well," I say, sitting upright and directing my words towards Liara. "We don't know much about the Collectors, but there are a few things that we do know, chiefly that their mastery of genetics and biology give them unparalleled, uh, skills at using biological warfare. They are known, obviously by their name, for collecting individuals with rare genetic traits. It's possible that they could want Shepard so that they can study, uh, what made her so… well, unique."
"We don't need a history lesson, Nick." Aria mocks, tilting her head to the side in amusement at my uncomfortable squirming (not that there are any physical signs, that is). "Tell them what they need to know, and we'll send them on their way."
"Okay, uh, right." I nod, mind racing furiously as I try to figure out what Feron and Liara would need. "Um… individual Collectors can be, uh, possessed, for lack of a better term. You can tell this by their four eyes, which start to glow orange-ish. They only speak when they are possessed, and, uh, that's the only time that they can use biotics. When 'possessed', they seem to be capable of instantaneous communication with any other possessed Collector, so watch out for that."
"Nick…" Aria warns, crossing her arms. "Back to the point, now."
"Right, sorry. From what we know, the Blue Suns are passing Shepard on to the Shadow Broker's men, who will then pass Shepard to the Collectors. The Blue Suns are making the trade in the lower… uh, ore works, if I remember correctly. That right, Aria?" I explain, passing the conversation back to Aria as quickly as I can.
"The old ore processing plant, hanger four." Aria informs Feron. "You should go now."
"Just one moment!" Liara refuses, taking another step forward and pointing at... me.
Grizz snaps his rifle up to bear on Liara, but she doesn't look like she cares about that.
"How do you know so much about the Collectors?" Liara demands. "And how do I know you're not working for them?"
"Beeee…cause I want to live?" I answer slowly, partly out of hesitation and partly out of mocking. "Agents of the Collectors don't last in the long run. Besides, I get all my vices here at Afterlife, so there's no real point in leaving."
"Well put." Aria remarks sarcastically, before directly her cold glare back at Liara. "This meeting is over."
"Your friend is better looking than your usual company, Feron." Aria calls out as she gracefully strides down from her Couch. "Which means she can't be your friend."
I exhale as quietly as I can, reclining on the Couch. When Anto had told me over the comm. that Liara had arrived, I'd rushed up to get to Aria's meeting room as fast as I could, but I didn't want Liara or Feron knowing that.
The meeting room was upstairs from the club's floor, safe from 'casual bystanders', and was semi-safe from listening devices. It was a simple enclosed room, and the only guards Aria had inside were Grizz and me. It was, in short, the place to meet Aria when you had something important to discuss but wanted to keep it quiet.
And, of course, Aria had another one of her Couches in here.
Vasir had managed to help me get dressed in record time, slapping on another medi-gel patch and throwing away that sling. I didn't want to make Aria appear weaker by having a lieutenant appear so obviously injured (if I could even be considered a lieutenant, that is).
I'd protested, of course, thinking that I was going to tear open the bonding agent holding my artery together, but Vasir had simply chuckled at my inexperience.
"Doctors are all the same," Vasir had explained to me as we strode into my tidy room. "They tell you to not risk re-opening a wound and 'make it any worse', but there's not much chance of that actually happening. The bonding agent that's holding you together is made of a specialized derivative of omni-gel, Nick, so don't worry about ripping out any stiches."
"So the spook talk is just so that she can scare me into submission?" I ask, brows furrowed in confusion as I pull on a new pair of tan climbing pants one-handed (dressing yourself almost completely one-handed is something I picked up in rowing).
"Pretty much." Vasir answers with a shrug. "That stuff will hold together under a lot of rough situations. You're only going to be sitting down, so you'll be fine."
So here I am, leaning back on the left-hand side of Aria's Couch, watching her smoothly take control of the discussion, the perfect mix of lethality and grace.
Unable to help myself, I shiver as Aria reminds me that I'm working for a criminal warlord.
No matter how useful Aria is to my plans, I can't help but think that if I hadn't had my valuable intel, she'd have calmly tossed my corpse into the waste vents without a second thought.
Anto leaves us alone with Liara and Feron, and the business talks start.
Liara leaves the talking to Feron, but that doesn't mean she's idle. She looks around, her bright eyes glancing at Grizz, then at… me?
Shit, I'm looking at her!
Our eyes meet, and Liara's narrow in suspicion.
Panicked, I shift my gaze to Feron, but Liara's still staring straight at me.
Unbidden, my left hand twitches once.
Feron and Aria are still discussing business, so I start listening, hoping that Liara will lose interest quickly.
"And you… I know you. You're one of Shepard's crew." Aria is saying, lifting Liara's head back towards her, all whilst wearing a predator's grin. "I wonder if you could speak when Shepard was alive? Or has Nick over there stolen your voice?"
Huh? That wasn't in the comic.
Oh, right. 'Cause of me.
Butterflies… wonderful, the first of the butterflies.
Liara crosses her arms, matching Aria's cold glare easily as the Pirate Queen steps around her, as if inspecting Liara for a dancer's position. Liara's glare only seems to encourage Aria, as her grin widens, turning almost shark-like.
"The Shadow Broker may be powerful, but Omega is mine. Of course I know about the transfer – but I'm not a running a charity here. Tell me, Feron, why's the Broker so interested in Shepard?" Aria interrogates, smoothly taking control of the situation.
"I – I don't know, Aria; that's what we're trying to-" Feron tries to bluff, but his slight hesitation is his downfall.
Well, that, and my intel.
Heh.
Aria's leading Feron around like a deluded puppy, always having control of the conversation, every movement being watched carefully, lest she turn on him.
Oddly enough, Liara is controlling her emotions better than Feron is, though that might just be because she doesn't fully understand how dangerous Aria is.
"Bullshit!" Aria retorts, turning away from the unlikely pair with a smirk on her face.
Unseen to Aria, Liara balls up her fists in a surprisingly human gesture of anger, gritting her teeth at Aria's manner. Okay, so maybe Feron is controlling his emotions better than she is.
"You might be a two-bit information broker, Feron, but even you aren't that incompetent. You figured out what the Broker wants even before you agreed to help little Liara here, like any half-decent information broker would. So tell me, Feron, what does the Broker wants with Shepard?" Aria questions, turning back to face the duo just as Liara steps forward.
"Because the Shadow Broker wants to sell Shepard's body to the Collectors!" Liara snaps, standing up to Aria with an expression of righteous anger. "They're the ones that want Shepard's body!"
"And here I thought that was you." I mutter under my breath.
The sound of my voice unexpectedly carries, and everyone turns to look straight at me. Liara and Feron looked a little confused why I spoke, while Aria's giving me a cautious look, as if judging whether or not to allow me to continue.
"Something you'd like to say, Nick?" Aria offers, waving a hand as if to give me the floor.
"No – not really, boss." I reply quickly, cheeks blushing a little at the sudden attention.
"Oh, but I insist." Aria says, every word making my heart sink further. "Given that you're my expert on the Collectors, it's about time you earned your keep."
I lock eyes with her, horrified that she's putting me on the spot, but Aria shows no sign of yielding.
"Well," I say, sitting upright and directing my words towards Liara. "We don't know much about the Collectors, but there are a few things that we do know, chiefly that their mastery of genetics and biology give them unparalleled, uh, skills at using biological warfare. They are known, obviously by their name, for collecting individuals with rare genetic traits. It's possible that they could want Shepard so that they can study, uh, what made her so… well, unique."
"We don't need a history lesson, Nick." Aria mocks, tilting her head to the side in amusement at my uncomfortable squirming (not that there are any physical signs, that is). "Tell them what they need to know, and we'll send them on their way."
"Okay, uh, right." I nod, mind racing furiously as I try to figure out what Feron and Liara would need. "Um… individual Collectors can be, uh, possessed, for lack of a better term. You can tell this by their four eyes, which start to glow orange-ish. They only speak when they are possessed, and, uh, that's the only time that they can use biotics. When 'possessed', they seem to be capable of instantaneous communication with any other possessed Collector, so watch out for that."
"Nick…" Aria warns, crossing her arms. "Back to the point, now."
"Right, sorry. From what we know, the Blue Suns are passing Shepard on to the Shadow Broker's men, who will then pass Shepard to the Collectors. The Blue Suns are making the trade in the lower… uh, ore works, if I remember correctly. That right, Aria?" I explain, passing the conversation back to Aria as quickly as I can.
"The old ore processing plant, hanger four." Aria informs Feron. "You should go now."
"Just one moment!" Liara refuses, taking another step forward and pointing at... me.
Grizz snaps his rifle up to bear on Liara, but she doesn't look like she cares about that.
"How do you know so much about the Collectors?" Liara demands. "And how do I know you're not working for them?"
"Beeee…cause I want to live?" I answer slowly, partly out of hesitation and partly out of mocking. "Agents of the Collectors don't last in the long run. Besides, I get all my vices here at Afterlife, so there's no real point in leaving."
"Well put." Aria remarks sarcastically, before directly her cold glare back at Liara. "This meeting is over."
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
It was more of the 'I'm looking at a fictional character... Oh my God, I'm looking at a fictional character...'Carrnage said:
The same kind of stuff that screwed me over with Miranda.
Wonder how this one is going to turn out?
maguado87
Lord of All
But our Hero is trying to avoid sex rememberCarrnage said:
- Location
- Oblivion
Eh, if your lucky she just thinks you have a thing for Asari.Xeno Major said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
That's actually a sub-plot later on.John117xCortana said:
But yes, I am heterosexual. Simply put, I'm not used to the thought of me having sex with aliens.
Particularly aliens who could fry my mind if they wanted to.
Did I mention I'm paranoid?
- Location
- Oblivion
I hear some people use full body rubber suits to prevent conductivity issues.Xeno Major said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
From the Wiki.
So, no blue babies. It'd be far too cruel to bring something into life when a war of extermination is about to start, anyway.
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Yes.
Strategic area/asset denial. If it's gonna get blown up anyway, best to blow it up when a large amount of enemies are present.
I've already had thoughts about towing a few unnecessary Mass Relays into position and detonating them, but at the moment I don't have anything to annihilate.
Yet.
...Soon.
Strategic area/asset denial. If it's gonna get blown up anyway, best to blow it up when a large amount of enemies are present.
I've already had thoughts about towing a few unnecessary Mass Relays into position and detonating them, but at the moment I don't have anything to annihilate.
Yet.
...Soon.
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
That's the only real target thus far.
After that, it's not like the Reapers have any immediately identifiable base.
I need to capture the Omega-4 Relay, completely ignore the Collector Base (after we kill all the Collectors), if only so that I can have the Geth analyze the wrecks for any immediately useful technology.
And bombing Reaper force concentrations (at least, with Mass Relays) when they start invading gets tricky to do without causing massive friendly casualties.
After that, it's not like the Reapers have any immediately identifiable base.
I need to capture the Omega-4 Relay, completely ignore the Collector Base (after we kill all the Collectors), if only so that I can have the Geth analyze the wrecks for any immediately useful technology.
And bombing Reaper force concentrations (at least, with Mass Relays) when they start invading gets tricky to do without causing massive friendly casualties.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Finding a remote system where you can inflate an asteroid into an Ark might not be a bad idea, either. Pack a hundred thousand members of each major race aboard, full tech databases, and send them off on a slowboat ride somewhere remote.
- Location
- Oblivion
Read up on hypernova's, because that is likely the kind of bad you are talking about.John117xCortana said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Damnit. Good spotting.Mercsenary said:
Fix'd.
Yup. That files under both my Meme and my Trolling campaigns. First, I start seeding certain thoughts and beliefs on the extranet, then I prove that the Geth can do that.Carrnage said:
The Trolling part specifically refers to how STG is going to get very annoyed with me.
I don't think so, but that's why we have Geth. If the Geth die, you only lose a body, and just re-upload a stored backup of their files onto another body. Wonderful scouts and boarding parties.John117xCortana said:
The main reason I want to raid those wrecks is because the Protheans held off the Reapers for a couple hundred years, while we (in canon) only lasted a few months, maybe a year. That means that the Protheans must have had either superior numbers, superior tech, or both. Given what we saw of Javik, I'd confirm that superior tech is a yes.
...soon.Vaermina said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
That'll come up in the next couple of snippets, but first I have to cram in a few other things.
- Location
- Oblivion
Well at least you have an answer for one of their questions, Gods do exist, and one at least is kind of an ass.Xeno Major said:
consequences
Not A Nice Person At All
- Location
- Jerkville
It's debatable how much that is actually to the Protheans' credit though, and how much due to the fact that the reapers could methodically obliterate their isolated holdings one at a time and therefore just hit each world with everything they had minus the scout bubbles to prevent escapees. If the Protheans could have concentrated everything they had for a total war effort, and actually take the fight to the Reapers in a ginormous all or nothing throw of the dice they may have shot their wad just as early.Xeno Major said:
You are probably right about the superior tech, although it may not be applied in the most effective ways on any wrecks recovered. Being a power exercising hyper-dominance over the known galaxy is unlikely to lend itself to designs that are optimized for space combat roles. Remember that according to Javik the Geth Superdreadnought's main gun was comparable to that of the Prothean flagship.
48
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Recap of previous ideas and summing up current plans will be the next snippet.
Chapter 9.4 (Snip 5)
Sighing, I carefully sit down on my chair (it's mine by this point, and I'll shoot anyone who disagrees), taking care not to jostle my left arm.
The secure room inside Afterlife has been sealed once again, giving us complete isolation from the watching eyes of rest of the Omega. Vasir, who's been camping in here doing some business over a safeguarded computer, is happy to see me, and greets me with a smile and a curt nod.
"Where's Aria?" I ask Vasir curiously, having seen the Pirate Queen depart for the inner sections of Afterlife a few minutes before I did.
While Aria had gone inside, I'd simply stood in her lofty perch and gazed out over the teeming crowds of Omega, to try to remind myself what I was fighting for.
The club was full and noisy, and despite the fact that I normally disliked those two things in combination, it helped soothe my stressed mind.
Turians in armor watched Asari in leather dancing, while Salarians tried (sometime successfully, but mostly futilely) to beat their hyperactivity and relax. Neon lights and flashing holographic flames played over exotic armors of every make and color, all the various species of the galaxy out to party.
Well, except for the drunked human that Grizz just threw out the front door, but there's always one or two party poopers.
If I wanted to ever see a mixed crowd like that in the future, then I had to get my mind back in order and my priorities in line.
"She'll be here." Vasir reassures me, giving me an curiously intense look. "But first, why don't you tell me about your run in with Cerberus?"
"Okay." I nod, despite my misgivings. "I'll try, but I might not get the details right."
Taking a deep breath, I slowly recount the hectic firefight and the catastrophe that followed. As I talk, my throat tightens at the rush of emotion that accompanies the chaotic memories.
Vasir's face doesn't change when I tell her of how my arrogance almost got me killed, or when I tell her that Miranda Lawson now knows that Aria has a Shadow Broker agent in her pocket.
"I didn't identify you. I didn't say anything about an asari or a Spectre or – or anything else, Vasir." I swear to her, uncomfortably aware that I have massively fucked up.
"Could be worse." Vasir mused. "With luck, she'll think we're talking about Feron; but that's not going to happen, is it?"
"Better to prepare as if she doesn't." I mutter grimly. "Listen, I fucked up, but-"
"Can you stop apologizing?" Vasir demands, her cool voice cutting through my resurging panic. "Keep your head on, and we'll figure out how to minimize the damage."
"...alright." I murmur, gazing at my hands.
My left hand twitches. It's been doing that a lot lately. Residual nerve damage?
God, I hope not.
"What about your arm?" Vasir questions, softening her tone as I look back up at her.
"It's – uh, it's more my armpit, really." I shrug, grimacing as I feel the bonding agent shift a tiny bit (a quick glance reassures me that I'm not going to bleed out). "Cerberus, uh, dropped me off, a good distance away from Afterlife. I rushed back, 'cause my rifle was busted, and I was freaked out, residually, from that encounter with Miranda…"
"And?" Vasir asks, prompting me to go on. "What happened?"
"I took a wrong turn." I whisper. "Wound up in gang territory. Called themselves the Terroks. They opened fire immediately. Took a Mantis round to the shoulder. Tumbled. Pistol flew out of my hand. Man with the rifle – turian with the rifle, that is – came close, started to gloat."
I close my eyes, remembering the sight of the gaudy purple clothes igniting, the turian shrieking in agony as his plates started to superheat.
"Then I set him on fire."
My breath catches in my throat.
My left hand twitches, involuntarily. I try to hold it still, but it twitches again.
The hiss of the airlock/security door opening stops Vasir from talking, but I don't look up to see who it is.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
A hand settles on my shoulder.
"It's been taken care of, Nick." Aria says gently, before stepping away, her heeled boots loud against the cold metallic floor.
"Taken care of?" I repeat numbly, glancing over at her.
Aria doesn't respond. She's not in her usual mocking/arrogant manner, instead she's fully serious, fully professional; and that only makes me more scared.
"Garka and a few others are off taking care of the Terroks." she says, off-handedly, as she rummages around the small bar in the back of the room.
"What?" I ask, not sure I heard her correctly. "Sorry, but what did you just say?"
"Garka's taking care of the Terroks." Aria repeats as she smoothly mixes cylinders and containers of odd colored... drink.
"What, like the whole gang?" I ask, astonished.
"They broke my Rule." Aria says simply, shrugging as she hands Vasir a blue shotglass. "Drink?"
"I don't drink." I reply mechanically, my mind too busy buzzing with this new information to offer a better excuse than my usual retort. "You mean that Garka's going to-"
"Kill them?" Aria interrupted, knocking back her shot of blue-whatever-it-was in one quick motion. "Yes. If they try to kill my men, then they're trying to kill me; and we can't have that."
"Aria-" I try to say, but my complaints die on my lips.
"You know how it is on Omega, Nick. You knew that the Terroks were going to die." Aria lectures, as she hands Vasir the shotglass that would have been mine. "So why are you being so dumb about it? Accept it and move on; that's the way things happen on Omega."
"I think you need to remember that he's not one of us, Aria." Vasir advises, setting down her empty shotglasses on a side-table. "He's still a kid, whether he admits it or not."
"...I knew that intellectually." I state slowly, regaining my confidence as I focus on the now, not on the then. "There's a difference between knowing something intellectually and knowing it instinctively, emotionally."
"You know, I think I attended a seminar on something similar, once." Vasir chimes in. "Something about how arrogance or lack of comprehension could botch an operation as easily as stupidity. I think the proper terms were different, though."
"They probably are." I concede. "It was easier for me to understand the concept with my own terms, so that's what I use. There's a bit of ironic truth there, if you squint hard enough."
"So it's a lack of comprehension?" Aria guesses, looking intrigued.
I guess that since she's only dealt with professionals (or soon-to-be-dead amateurs), she's never encountered this problem before. Her visitors must have already gotten used to the rapid-fire bloodshed of the Terminus Systems. I mean, even Liara, the young archaeologist would have already encountered plenty of death by this point.
Young, naïve people don't exactly come to Omega for a quick vacation, y'know?
"Kind of." I grant, thinking about it. "I haven't had a good real-life example. It's one thing to hear about it, to read about it, but it's a whole 'nother thing to see something like that happen."
It's kinda like skydiving. Everyone's seen the skydiving scenes in movies, and they even see a bit of the same perspective when those scenes show up in games.
But the first time you fall out of a plane, struggling to catch your breath, air compressing your cheeks and roaring in your ears... you realize what skydiving really is (other than a ridiculously awesome way to have an adrenaline rush).
Some things can be understood instinctively with enough information, with enough theory.
That's actually how a surprising number of people learn martial arts, going years without ever actually getting into a fight (sparring does not count in this example, because it's missing the necessary stress that a life-or-death situation brings), just practicing and practicing until they have enough theoretical knowledge to replace practical experience.
But just like in most sports, there's a point where you have to forget theory and just do it.
Some things can't be learned just through theory; it just so happens that one of those things is the horror of death. Not peaceful death, the kind with dignity and peace, but the death of a criminal, the death of someone who doesn't want to go.
I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to forget those screams.
"I'll grant that." Aria allows magnanimously. "But you need to step up your game, boy. You remembered the wrong name, messed up the order of events, and almost got yourself killed."
"Alright, alright, I'll step up my game." I reply. "Just let me adapt to these fucked-up circumstances, okay? I've got to make sure I don't forget anything important again; so I'll write down – no, no, somebody could steal that, somebody could take a physical list. Omni-tool? Maybe, but first I'll have to remember what's important."
"The fate of the galaxy is on the line, and you can't remember what's important? If this is how you deal with stress, I'd hate to see how you deal with down-time." Vasir quips.
"Oh, I took the time to try to remember all the events that actually affect the game, but how about how a character speaks? Those little details evade me, since it's been a while since I actually played the games, and those details end up being quite important when you think about it. There's more to a story than just the plot, after all." I inform her dryly.
"Well, Tela," Aria purrs (since when does Aria T'Loak fucking purr?). "Let's help him remember, then. We didn't have the chance to go over those little details before, given the time constraints, but we've got plenty of time right now."
"Technically, is this non-consensual?" I ask, my mouth running independently of my quickly distracted mind. "I have moral and ethical standards to uphold here, and I've-"
"Pipe down, Nick." Vasir chuckles, lithely striding over to me as she shucks her white fur-collared vest. "This is business, not pleasure."
"I could be convinced to see it as both." Aria said in a simple tone, as if she was not stepping over to me with the seductive grace of a dancer.
"That's all good and well for you, but what about-" I start to ramble, only to be cut off.
Chapter 9.4 (Snip 5)
Sighing, I carefully sit down on my chair (it's mine by this point, and I'll shoot anyone who disagrees), taking care not to jostle my left arm.
The secure room inside Afterlife has been sealed once again, giving us complete isolation from the watching eyes of rest of the Omega. Vasir, who's been camping in here doing some business over a safeguarded computer, is happy to see me, and greets me with a smile and a curt nod.
"Where's Aria?" I ask Vasir curiously, having seen the Pirate Queen depart for the inner sections of Afterlife a few minutes before I did.
While Aria had gone inside, I'd simply stood in her lofty perch and gazed out over the teeming crowds of Omega, to try to remind myself what I was fighting for.
The club was full and noisy, and despite the fact that I normally disliked those two things in combination, it helped soothe my stressed mind.
Turians in armor watched Asari in leather dancing, while Salarians tried (sometime successfully, but mostly futilely) to beat their hyperactivity and relax. Neon lights and flashing holographic flames played over exotic armors of every make and color, all the various species of the galaxy out to party.
Well, except for the drunked human that Grizz just threw out the front door, but there's always one or two party poopers.
If I wanted to ever see a mixed crowd like that in the future, then I had to get my mind back in order and my priorities in line.
"She'll be here." Vasir reassures me, giving me an curiously intense look. "But first, why don't you tell me about your run in with Cerberus?"
"Okay." I nod, despite my misgivings. "I'll try, but I might not get the details right."
Taking a deep breath, I slowly recount the hectic firefight and the catastrophe that followed. As I talk, my throat tightens at the rush of emotion that accompanies the chaotic memories.
Vasir's face doesn't change when I tell her of how my arrogance almost got me killed, or when I tell her that Miranda Lawson now knows that Aria has a Shadow Broker agent in her pocket.
"I didn't identify you. I didn't say anything about an asari or a Spectre or – or anything else, Vasir." I swear to her, uncomfortably aware that I have massively fucked up.
"Could be worse." Vasir mused. "With luck, she'll think we're talking about Feron; but that's not going to happen, is it?"
"Better to prepare as if she doesn't." I mutter grimly. "Listen, I fucked up, but-"
"Can you stop apologizing?" Vasir demands, her cool voice cutting through my resurging panic. "Keep your head on, and we'll figure out how to minimize the damage."
"...alright." I murmur, gazing at my hands.
My left hand twitches. It's been doing that a lot lately. Residual nerve damage?
God, I hope not.
"What about your arm?" Vasir questions, softening her tone as I look back up at her.
"It's – uh, it's more my armpit, really." I shrug, grimacing as I feel the bonding agent shift a tiny bit (a quick glance reassures me that I'm not going to bleed out). "Cerberus, uh, dropped me off, a good distance away from Afterlife. I rushed back, 'cause my rifle was busted, and I was freaked out, residually, from that encounter with Miranda…"
"And?" Vasir asks, prompting me to go on. "What happened?"
"I took a wrong turn." I whisper. "Wound up in gang territory. Called themselves the Terroks. They opened fire immediately. Took a Mantis round to the shoulder. Tumbled. Pistol flew out of my hand. Man with the rifle – turian with the rifle, that is – came close, started to gloat."
I close my eyes, remembering the sight of the gaudy purple clothes igniting, the turian shrieking in agony as his plates started to superheat.
"Then I set him on fire."
My breath catches in my throat.
My left hand twitches, involuntarily. I try to hold it still, but it twitches again.
The hiss of the airlock/security door opening stops Vasir from talking, but I don't look up to see who it is.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
A hand settles on my shoulder.
"It's been taken care of, Nick." Aria says gently, before stepping away, her heeled boots loud against the cold metallic floor.
"Taken care of?" I repeat numbly, glancing over at her.
Aria doesn't respond. She's not in her usual mocking/arrogant manner, instead she's fully serious, fully professional; and that only makes me more scared.
"Garka and a few others are off taking care of the Terroks." she says, off-handedly, as she rummages around the small bar in the back of the room.
"What?" I ask, not sure I heard her correctly. "Sorry, but what did you just say?"
"Garka's taking care of the Terroks." Aria repeats as she smoothly mixes cylinders and containers of odd colored... drink.
"What, like the whole gang?" I ask, astonished.
"They broke my Rule." Aria says simply, shrugging as she hands Vasir a blue shotglass. "Drink?"
"I don't drink." I reply mechanically, my mind too busy buzzing with this new information to offer a better excuse than my usual retort. "You mean that Garka's going to-"
"Kill them?" Aria interrupted, knocking back her shot of blue-whatever-it-was in one quick motion. "Yes. If they try to kill my men, then they're trying to kill me; and we can't have that."
"Aria-" I try to say, but my complaints die on my lips.
"You know how it is on Omega, Nick. You knew that the Terroks were going to die." Aria lectures, as she hands Vasir the shotglass that would have been mine. "So why are you being so dumb about it? Accept it and move on; that's the way things happen on Omega."
"I think you need to remember that he's not one of us, Aria." Vasir advises, setting down her empty shotglasses on a side-table. "He's still a kid, whether he admits it or not."
"...I knew that intellectually." I state slowly, regaining my confidence as I focus on the now, not on the then. "There's a difference between knowing something intellectually and knowing it instinctively, emotionally."
"You know, I think I attended a seminar on something similar, once." Vasir chimes in. "Something about how arrogance or lack of comprehension could botch an operation as easily as stupidity. I think the proper terms were different, though."
"They probably are." I concede. "It was easier for me to understand the concept with my own terms, so that's what I use. There's a bit of ironic truth there, if you squint hard enough."
"So it's a lack of comprehension?" Aria guesses, looking intrigued.
I guess that since she's only dealt with professionals (or soon-to-be-dead amateurs), she's never encountered this problem before. Her visitors must have already gotten used to the rapid-fire bloodshed of the Terminus Systems. I mean, even Liara, the young archaeologist would have already encountered plenty of death by this point.
Young, naïve people don't exactly come to Omega for a quick vacation, y'know?
"Kind of." I grant, thinking about it. "I haven't had a good real-life example. It's one thing to hear about it, to read about it, but it's a whole 'nother thing to see something like that happen."
It's kinda like skydiving. Everyone's seen the skydiving scenes in movies, and they even see a bit of the same perspective when those scenes show up in games.
But the first time you fall out of a plane, struggling to catch your breath, air compressing your cheeks and roaring in your ears... you realize what skydiving really is (other than a ridiculously awesome way to have an adrenaline rush).
Some things can be understood instinctively with enough information, with enough theory.
That's actually how a surprising number of people learn martial arts, going years without ever actually getting into a fight (sparring does not count in this example, because it's missing the necessary stress that a life-or-death situation brings), just practicing and practicing until they have enough theoretical knowledge to replace practical experience.
But just like in most sports, there's a point where you have to forget theory and just do it.
Some things can't be learned just through theory; it just so happens that one of those things is the horror of death. Not peaceful death, the kind with dignity and peace, but the death of a criminal, the death of someone who doesn't want to go.
I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to forget those screams.
"I'll grant that." Aria allows magnanimously. "But you need to step up your game, boy. You remembered the wrong name, messed up the order of events, and almost got yourself killed."
"Alright, alright, I'll step up my game." I reply. "Just let me adapt to these fucked-up circumstances, okay? I've got to make sure I don't forget anything important again; so I'll write down – no, no, somebody could steal that, somebody could take a physical list. Omni-tool? Maybe, but first I'll have to remember what's important."
"The fate of the galaxy is on the line, and you can't remember what's important? If this is how you deal with stress, I'd hate to see how you deal with down-time." Vasir quips.
"Oh, I took the time to try to remember all the events that actually affect the game, but how about how a character speaks? Those little details evade me, since it's been a while since I actually played the games, and those details end up being quite important when you think about it. There's more to a story than just the plot, after all." I inform her dryly.
"Well, Tela," Aria purrs (since when does Aria T'Loak fucking purr?). "Let's help him remember, then. We didn't have the chance to go over those little details before, given the time constraints, but we've got plenty of time right now."
"Technically, is this non-consensual?" I ask, my mouth running independently of my quickly distracted mind. "I have moral and ethical standards to uphold here, and I've-"
"Pipe down, Nick." Vasir chuckles, lithely striding over to me as she shucks her white fur-collared vest. "This is business, not pleasure."
"I could be convinced to see it as both." Aria said in a simple tone, as if she was not stepping over to me with the seductive grace of a dancer.
"That's all good and well for you, but what about-" I start to ramble, only to be cut off.
Fallenblades643
Seeker of the Divine Taste
I can hear the snapping from here.