Glorious Shotgun Princess (ME/Exalted) Thread #2

[GreggHL]

They pass through the portal- streaming fire and golden sun gives way to rays of silver and the shifting feel of gravity pulling him in every direction at once. Kal'Reegar is no stranger to teleportation and transit- he tested out Tali's portable Mass Relay, after all- but he is a stranger to this.

He's no stranger to a portal- to something that should be instantaneous, taking so long. He began counting seconds- counting minutes- then hours. Things stretched, like the world became something out of a drug trip painting. Hours became days.

Five days later, the world made sense again.

The world of Deus Machina- of the golden plains, of the millions of Champions, of the fixed sun overhead- becomes a street of brass. Taking a deep breath, yellow eyes dart form side to side. Looking around him, he sees a wide street made of varnished brass and layered stone. Around him, buildings rise into every direction- upwards. Sideways. Ending in jagged roofs and spearheads. Ending in tortured faces and reaching arms.

And instead of a sky, Kal sees another city, moving slowly above them.

"Where the Hell are we?" he breathes.

"Malfeas." The golden sphere floats next to him. Autochthon narrows his glowing iris, looking skyward. "Demon City. Hell itself, at least according to some definitions. Odd, it seems to be night, but it's never night here."

Music fills the sky, fills the streets. All manner of instruments. Sounds he has never heard before, shaking the air and ground with the noise. Kal rubs the back of his head, feeling the seams of his helmet; replaced before he came here. Just in case.

He hears it before he sees it. Hears the procession of massive feet. Blinking, he watches as the giants clear the curve of the street. Massive, jagged. Forged of a mixture of metal, stone, and flesh. Each bares the face of something. He can't tell what, only that it isn't happy. There are four of them, marching alongside two lines of what appears to be large, disproportionate, hairy men. Which are also armored and carrying spears.

The giants are carrying a chair. Made of brass and stone, bejeweled with emeralds and glass. The chair, the throne is as large as the giants, carved into languages he cannot read. Sculpted with shapes he cannot understand.

Sitting at the center of the throne, diminutive to the cushions and chair, there is a woman. Ivory skin, red hair so dark it appears black flowing down her back and over her shoulders. Green eyes the color and cut of faceted emeralds, lounging against the armrests as her black, green lined dress flows over it and her.

"Welcoming committee?" Kal whispers.

"I am unsure," Autochthon responds, iris shifting, "I confess. I have not been here before."

The entourage comes to a halt. She moves, flows off of the chair, and walks with such grace that her bare feet never touch the ground. "Welcome, travelers." Her voice is silk and firm hands on sore shoulders. "You have come to the eternal domain of the King of All Kings."

She spreads out her arms, bowing gracefully. Red hair spills over her, touching the floor. Or, hovering directly above it. "I am the Voice of the Eternal Yozi. Honored Travelers, I welcome you to-"

She stands up. Rolling her head back, she is jerked up like a puppet on a string. Her eyes fill with black, ink and oil. A third eye of white framed blade opens upon her forehead. Lowered back onto her feet, the woman turns to them. And she starts laughing.

Throwing her head back, she laughs, loud and echoing chortles as she smacks her hand against her face. Stumbling over to the throne, she presses her hand against it to keep upright, tears of black pitch running down her cheeks, pounding her hand against it and then against the street as she slides down with her back against the leg of one of the brass giants.

She continues laughing for several minutes. Puddles of pitch form at her feet, chortles becoming guffaws, then giggles, then girlish squeals of utter delight.

Picking herself up, she walks over to the pair. "Oh. Oh wow. I never expected this."

Throwing her arms out wide, she smiles with yellow teeth. "Welcome! To Malfeas! Especially you, Brother Machine." Giggling again, she grins from ear to ear in an unnaturally large smile. "I must say, though. Of all the things you should be afraid of, it shouldn't be dying. Because I don't think our King is going to let you die until he's finished taking out every. Last. Bit. Of his resentment towards you."

Kal blinks. He glances to the side, idly looking for exits. Passageways. Alleys.

"Oh, how I'm sure he's dreamt of this. How we all have. And I must say, according to my contact? How you have shed your power? Become a mere god like you are now? Become so much less than what you were, and then willingly come here?"

The woman brings her arms apart, and brings them together. Again, and again, in a loud, slow clap. Again, and again, for minutes as her smile gets wider and wider. "I'm pretty sure Ligier's already heating up the forge for the things they will be fitting into your orifices, brother." Eyes closed, smile all teeth, she brings her hands together with a squeal. "This is going to be amazing. And I didn't even do anything!"

The pitch and ink vanishes. Stumbling, shaking her head, the woman blinks. She bows, opens her mouth to speak again. She jerks, stumbling up to standing. Her skin traces itself with brass lines and her eyes begin to glow with green fire. Staring straight at Autochthon, she begins to scream with a age that begins all the way at the depths of her soul.

And then she stumbles back. Twitching and thrashing in every direction, an array of colors, symbols, and flames wash over her from every direction, before she finally collapses unconscious onto the street.

"Autochthon?" Kal stares at the woman, as Auto watches in utter silence. "Why did the lady jerk around before collapsing like someone pole axed her?"

Night gives way to day. Green sunlight shines down directly on them. "This...may have been a misstep on my part," Autochthon stares. He clears his throat. "I would suggest running."

 

[GreggHL]

There is evading danger. Then there is fooling oneself that the danger has passed, and Kal'Reegar knows this is the former and not the latter. The street gave way to an alleyway, and deft hands found a sackcloth cloak to hide himself with, and a second to drape over his companion. Music fills a busy city street as they walk together, mixing through crowds of people.

He's pretty sure they're people. Different colors, shapes. Insects the size of men, more of those disproportionate, hairy people. He tries to think of what they remind him off. Finally hits it with a brief course in his marine training on alien fauna. Gorillas.

Or Elcor. Elcor with human faces, at least.

The eye shifts from side to side, the hood surrounding the sphere and the cloak hanging off of it as it floats on head level with Kal. They walk through an open market, past marching bronze spiders pulling carts of worms the size of cows.

"Hey," Kal says, "Want to tell me what was up with that welcoming committee?"

The eye twitches. Silve plates shift along the iris. "I have not understood..." He trails off, pauses. "I have underestimated the resentment my kin have held towards me. While the...while the Dragon I have always known hated me, I...have underestimated the rage." The eye dips down. "Especially his. As long as we are in his borders, we cannot escape his gaze."

"Who's?" Kal watches a set of spiders arguing- each of them at least the size of a man, and very furry. Makes a mental note not to bring Tali here. Then the pang hits his gut like a punch.

"Malfeas," Autochthon whispers, "Malfeas knows we are here. He knows I am here."

Kal shrugs. "You said we're in Malfeas, right? So is that a person, too? Or a city?"

The eye slowly turns to Kal, floating sideways. "Kal'Reegar, Malfeas is both. He is like I was. A being, a place. A universe. He is vast, and powerful, and angry." The iris narrows. The ball dips down. "Because of what I did. To give you an idea, I have examined religions of several species. He quite well once mapped to the human Abrahamic concept of God. Once. And is now crippled, lessened. By my hand."

Kal nods, one eye on the ball, one on the street. "So he's a god?"

"Not a god, Kal'Reegar. The God." The eye shifts. "Was. But is no longer."

Kal works his jaw underneath his mask. He turns back to the street and goes silent, walking alongside the floating sphere. They pass through city blocks, unnoticed and unwatched. Past nightmare architecture that stretches the sky. Watching as blocks shift. Watching a street ground into rubble as another street takes its place.

"This place is insane," Kal whispers.

Autochthon is silent in his agreement. As hours stretch into days, as Kal finally hears the rumbling in his stomach, he once more turns to ask the sphere for directions. Only to find that now, the golden genius is staring into the distance. There is the distinct rattling of golden plates, and the iris is wide and open.

Idly, Kal wonders if he broke.

The crowd begins pushing. The massive elcor-with-people-faces charge past, roaring. The insects, the spiders both massive and man sized. The things- all alien, all bizarre, charge past them, push past them. It is then that Kal finally notices that the street is silent.

"What's up with that?" Kal asks, and waves his hand in front of Autochthon's eye. "Hey! Are you...broke or something? Why's everyone panicking?"

The answer comes in the form of a high pitched, terrified shriek from Autochthon. A scream, loud and long, and filled with such pure fear that it makes Kal take a step back and turn in the direction Autochthon is facing. Which is when he sees it, for the first time.

It comes in the form of a red tinge on the air. A wind, in the distance which makes the air twirl and dance. He can see it, in the distance. Lazily coming closer and closer, as the wind flows through the distant buildings and distant streets, becoming more and more defined.

There are screams in the buildings, cut off in mid sentence. He sees a beast charging out of a stable, the size of a tank. It collapses, dead, in mid step. A blue skinned man runs out. He stops, lifts up. His legs disappear above the knee. His eyes disappear, but no blood leaks out. A halo of red air wraps around his head as his tongue, nose, and ears vanish.

And then he is dead, laying face down on the street. And then he is nothing, like stone eroded over hundreds of years.

"Oh ancestors," Kal whispers, "What the fuck is that?"

"Run!" Autochthon screams, "Run! Run! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN! WE HAVE TO RUN!"

Autochthon's screams become high pitched noise, static over speakers and fingers scraping over chalkboards. Grabbing the ends of the cloak, Kal runs, dragging the ball, cloak and all behind him as he sprints down the street.

Down the street, racing the wind. He runs alongside the aliens and creatures, arms and knees pumping. Hunger and fatigue is supplanted by outright terror. Especially as he sees other racers dropping behind him. One of the gorillas stops, clutching his throat before dissolving to dust. A woman with red skin and black eyes jerks in mid step, collapsing. More and more around him, even as he still sees the red gales behind him.

Then, Kal does the regrettable mistake of looking up. As does Autochthon, which only prompts him to scream louder.
A hurricane of red wind churns high above, larger than the city block. Larger than many together. Larger than a dreadnought.

"Oh ancestors," Kal breathes.

"We are all going to die!" Autochthon finishes.

Kal'Reegar has never been one to accept his fate. Instead, still running, adrenaline and whatever magic he has powering him, he begins looking for escapes. He glances from side to side. He locks eyes briefly with the white haired girl running alongside him, unaffected by the wind and skipping. She favors him with an ivory smile, which is followed by a louder shriek from Autochthon.

People around them are screaming, roaring, banging metal and rattling cages. As Kal passes, he can't help but notice how the sound is cutting off behind him. He doesn't look back, only forward, and something in the back of his mind clicks. Information- not his, but from something older- and he wraps Autochthon's cloak around his hand.

The line of silence is getting closer and closer. But he finally sees it. A shifting, struggling creature upon a black marble stone, bulbous and smooth, featureless. It moves its worm like neck, roaring and warbling as more it stretches its mouth and swallows one of the gorilla-people whole. Good enough, Kal thinks.

He springs, races the wind. He knows the price, somehow, and leaps as the thing lowers its mouth towards Kal. The gullet stretches wide, and Kal can feel something drained from him, just as it swallows him and Autochthon whole. The creature warbles and burps. Then seizes up, dropping dead before being eroded into fine sand.

 

[GreggHL]

Three fingers hands clench into fists around rubble. Groaning, shaking his head, Kal'Reegar opens his eyes to the sound of a high pitched drone. Turning to his side, he identifies the source as Autochthon, eye down into the rubble and dirt of the blasted street they landed in, his shriek muted due to him being half buried.

Kal pulls himself up to seated, tucking his knees against his chest. Reaching over, he grabs a separation in the plates in the eye and yanks Autochthon out, to be rewarded with the ear piercing shriek. Iris wide open, plates shaking, Kal sits next to Auto as he continues his terrified squeal for several more minutes.

Then the plates shift, the iris closes, and Autochthon floats back up. "Ah, yes! We've escaped!" He turns, shifting down to face Kal. "Excellent work, Exalted. Knew I made the right choice in asking you."

Kal holds his hands in his head with a groan. "Great."

He stands, looking up, and finds rubble as far as the eye can see. There are- were- buildings here. Now there is rubble. Bodies and things, crushes underneath. Rubbing the back of his head, he begins walking as Auto floats alongside. "No idea where we are," Kal says, "I mean, no idea where we were before, either."

"Yes...yes!" Autochthon's iris opens wide. "Hold on! I have an idea!" The sphere floats off before Kal can get in another word. Groaning, Kal lets his hands at his side, turns, and stares into the still eyes of a partially flattened gorilla hanging in the air in front of him.

There is a wind, holding up the body, holding it in front of Kal. It- and the flattened ape, circle around him. With a gust that he barely feels, the body whips away, retreating into the distance. Rubbing the back of his head, Kal continues walking. Even as more bodies around him are picked up, pausing to turn to the sidereal and zipping away.

Walking through the rubble, Kal can't help but compare this wasteland to a blast site. Something came through here- something big, stamping this place flat. There is nothing here, as far as his eye can see, higher than his waist. At least, if he doesn't count the holes he could drop into that are the size of a frigate.

He glances down, and sees that there is a wind now following him. A steady gust, the discoloration and faint rippling of the air the only thing giving it away. It is the size of a small person, undulating and shifting the ground beneath it. Stopping, the wind stops too, rushing around him in a circle.

"Ah, yes! Hello! Kal'Reegar, you have met one of my nieces!"

Autochthon zooms back over, bobbing up and down. He tilts down, as the wind sits at Kal's side. Bits of dust and rock hover inside it, before it rises and hovers around Kal's shoulder. "Yes, hello!" Autochthon continues, "Which one are you, then? Well, he's not blind and he still has all his skin so YES! Hello Kamilla!"

The wind happily circles Kal's head, as the quarian rests his hands on his hips. "Great. Say, Auto? Where did you head off to?"

"I had an IDEA! Which was a good one!" Autochthon bobs up and down, iris closing. "I have convinces one of my siblings to aid us, as we are currently in the presence of one of them who does not actively or inactively despise me!"

The ground beneath Kal's feel shudders. Debris and rocks jump, hanging in the air before crashing down. Some do not, hanging in the air and speeding off into the distance. Kal finds himself off balance- shifting side to side. The world itself angles itself, the ground inclining itself towards something in the distance.

And then, Kal looks up and sees it. Or tries to see it. Tries to think of what it sees, as it approaches. He cannot see it clearly, because there is no light- or at least, the light is wrapping around it as it approaches, warped by its approach.

As a traveler through space, as a marine on the migrant fleet, Kal is familiar with stellar phenomena. But he has never seen one this close. He should never have seen one this close, but that part of Kal's mind that is not devoting itself to self preservation confirms that yes. Yes it is.

It is, indeed, a black hole, walking towards them. Light bending, gravity crushing. Making the earth beneath it lurch up towards it as its footsteps make him struggle to stay balanced.

Kal'Reegar stares up at the thing before him. Tries to make out something- features, faces, something. His brain attempts to cope, and does so badly, eyes wide beneath his mask and locked on the massive dense thing before him. Although, it does remind him of an Elcor. Mainly due to having four legs and no neck.

But then he doesn't think of it as an Elcor. Then his mind tells him what it is, as some deep part of him is screaming The Black Boar that Twists the Skies.

"Isidoros," Kal whispers.

Auto turns from the black hole to Kal. "Yes! That is his name. Have you met?"

Kal struggles for words.

"Anyway!" Auto turns back to the thing standing before them, "This is Kal'Reegar, a Sidereal accompanying me for my journey. Say hello, brother!"

The air shakes with the words, and the bow wave throws Kal off his feet. He flips end over end through the air before slamming into a pile of rubble and falling unconscious. Auto turns to the pile, then back to the black hole as the wind floats off to Kal.

"I told you that you need to speak softer! Now we have to wait for him to wake up!"

 

[GreggHL]

Hope your bodies are ready~

------------

Korlus.

Imir System.

6 months following the battle of Eden Prime.

The shuttle's four underside jets glow blue, and the flat nosed Kodiak hovers steadily over the landscape. There is brown. A lot of brown, she muses, looking down over the landscape of recycled scrap, dormant and disassembled frigates, and scattered fires.

"Okay." She turns, slamming a metal blue fist against the side of the hatch. Her hair, cut to just above her shoulder, bobs in red waves around her face. Tall, built, with a physique alternatively described as amazonian or superhero, she levels green eyes on the other passengers of the shuttle.

"Doctor Solus, assessment?"

The Salarian folds his arms. One hand idly scratches the missing cranial horn. "Assessment...problematic. Okeer known for scientific genius. Also known for lack of ethics. Dangerous." A sharp intake of breath. "But brilliant."

She nods. "Keeping that in mind, Doctor. Liara?"

The Asari sitting next to Solus shifts in her seat. Folding her ams, she taps her left hand and lets the orange bulb surround it. "Okeer is well known for experiments. There are rumors, from what I can get on the Urdnot database, that he fed krogan hatchlings to a thresher maw. Do we need him?"

"Unless we can find Wrex, he's the best hope I have of uniting the Krogans." She turns to the last passenger. "Vega?"

Head to toe in blue, polished armor, the heavily built, wide human jams a thermal clip into his oversized machine gun. "Hey, just leave some of'em for me, Commander."

She smirks, and slams an armored fist against the cockpit. A plate slides down, and the bearded man at the controls fixes his cap. "Probably going to have to land a few clicks down, Commander. We've got firefights all over the place." Jeff Moreau gestures to the open hatch. "Unless, well, what do you think?"

Red hair tucks into the polished blue helmet. Seals lock in place, and green eyes stare out from the glass plate. The air around her shifts, and a disc of gold hovers over her brow. "I think I'm going to get off here."

Turning towards the open hatch, she pops her knuckles and cranes her neck. And with a run, leaps out of the shuttle.

She folds arms against her side. The friction makes the air glow red around her. Head first, a straight arrow, she picks up speed and drags the wind behind her. The displays inside her helmet tell the story- one hundred and twenty thousand meters up, and dropping fast.

But inside the helmet, she pulls up the side of her lips in a smirk. This is, in her opinion, getting alarmingly routine. Twisting herself to the side, she bobs between bits of atmospheric debris. A piece of bulkhead held up by a defective mass effect generator. Shuttles going to put out new fires.

Time is like liquid to her in free fall. Things a ship would find dangers, she darts between, letting gravity, momentum, and reflex do the work for her. The altimeter begins beeping, and she twists. Not even bothering with jets or thrusters, she twists until she falls feet first, and flips the mental switch.

Golden sunlight and raw power wrap around her, permeating her down to the very core. The impact sends up smoke, warps metal upward, and can be felt all the way to the compound in the distance.

Rising from the crouch, she extends her hand and catches the rifle. Vega must have tossed it, she muses. One hand on the stock, the other on the barrel, she cranes her neck. "Commander Shepard to shuttle crew," she declares, "I've landed. Proceeding to pick up my Krogan."
-
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Glorious Shotgun Princess, Book 2

There Will Be Hierarchy

 

[GreggHL]

Kiss my shiny brass ass, reposting with the corrections
-------------
The world warps around them- a lensing effect, Kal imagines, from the weight of the thing he's currently sitting on. Ground shakes beneath the hooves of this object, this beast. This brother, or at least sibling of the golden sphere resting next to him. "So," Kal starts. He clears his throat, turning from Autochthon to the head of the black boar. "Why are you...not hating him?"
He jams a thumb towards Auto. Auto's iris closes. A spark runs over the silver.

Cause I don't care, comes the response, rumbling like earthquakes.

"Isidoros is...singular, with one exception," Autochthon explains, "He cannot be stopped, he cannot be halted, but he can be reasoned with."

I go where I go. That's it. A rumble, rippling through the fur. The voice speaks in clipped, short thundercracks. Strong enough to stop me and I stop. Haven't been stopped.

Kal taps his fingers on his leg. Adjusting his position, sitting cross legged as scenery passes them buy, he muses silently. Thinking about what he's seen. Thinking about where he has been. Considering the implausibility, even as he feels the cool gust on his back from the wind that is following him.

"So, why did you agree to carry us?"

A snort, shaking the air like a thundercrack. Autochthon asked me. Made something stronger than me, so I decided to. Don't care otherwise.

"Most of my kin resent me for my actions in the War." Autochthon floats over to Kal, hovering in front of him. "Isidoros does not care, one way or the other. I had to argue that since my creations have stopped him, he was obligated to do this for me." A pause. The iris shifts. "I was not sure it would work."

Don't care one way or another. The Exalt and the god turn towards the swaying head of the black hole boar. Was heading towards the desert but not going through it. You still have to get through her before you're in Creation.

Kal stares at the boar, then turns to Auto. "Her? Her who?"

Autochthon sighs, lowering his eye. Golden plates shift around him and the spark flickers behind the iris. "He means Cecelyne."




The rumbling recedes into the distance. Standing at the edge of a brass street, Kal'Reegar glancing to Autochthon next to him, and to the wind shifting next to him. Looking up at the barely defined plain in front of him, he once again questions whether or not this is a bad idea. "So, this is a border, right?" he asks.

"Yes," Autochthon confirms, "The edge of Malfeas. An edge. Past this is Cecelyne. Take a step forward and we will transit to there."

He can make out...some definition. It looks less like a desert to his eyes. It looks more like the surface of a moon. And not the life-bearing kind he sees around gas giants, but the cold, dead, and gray ones.

Beneath his helmet, Kal clenches his eyes shut. Sensors note and massage his temples with compressed air. It makes no sense, he muses. But then again, nothing else has since he went through the portal. Taking a step, Kal, half expects a drop.

But instead, his foot comes down on fine gray sand. Turning around, he sees an endless desert behind him, featureless and gray and stretching into the infinite horizon. Turning around, he sees more of the same, and no sign of brass streets. His reaction is, all considering, sensible.

"The fuck just happened?"

The golden sphere floats past, followed by the wind. "Excellent, we've transitioned successfully. Come along, it takes five days to reach Creation."

Kal looks back. No, he can see the gates. The streets, somehow, but only in the corner of his vision. "Wait, what happened? We were there and now we're not?"

"I imagine Malfeas has sealed us out." The iris twists and sparks. "It may take some effort to get back in once we are prepared to return to Deus Machina. This may prove troublesome but ONWARD! We can deal with this problem later!"

Kal grits his teeth. Clenching fists, he begins walking after them. "Dammit, I wish I could tell you how much I hate you."

"I doubt it is even one inkling of the amount Cecelyne does, if that is any comfort!"

Kal works his jaw. The sand rises between his toes, and he can feel it grinding against his feet. "Oh no. Oh fucking no. You did not just imply that this giant damn desert is also your fucking brother!"

The eye turns. Two plates on either side of it- which he was sure were not there before- rise as if in a shrug. "Sister, actually. She is a creature of laws and rules. As it stands, the current rule is that we must travel for five days to reach Creation." There is a sound, as if Autochthon is sucking in breath he does not need through teeth he does not have. "Ah, yes. I may have exaggerated, as well. Cecelyne is the sister- she is a girl, by the way- of Malfeas. Technically, she is more my cousin." Another pause. "Additionally, she is also...from a certain point of view, by the way, you could say that she, Law, is the mother of the Principle of Hierarchy."

Kal blinks. He glances at the wind, then back at Auto. He looks down and shifts his feet in the sand. "So. Wait. You're saying this," he points down to the sand, "Is the mother of the big cloud of glass balls that Tali and Shepard ran into?"

"Only from a certain point of view!"

Kal blinks again. He blinks again. The implications run through his head, hitting the large mental wall of wharblegarble. "Dare I ask who the father was?"

There is a moment of rare silence from the golden sphere. "Well. From a certain point of view, it was Malfeas-who-Was. Kingship, Dominion. Together with Law, that creates Hierarchy."
Kal makes a weak chuckle. "So the glass balls came from the sand being melted?"
Autochthon harrumphs. "It was certainly much more complicated than that!"

Autochthon turns and continues floating. Kal walks alongside him. "So the big brass city got together with the big desert and had a group of fiery balls." He rubs the back of his neck, angling a glance at Auto. "Weird, but kind of sweet. What about you? Get together with, what? An ocean? Maybe a moon? I mean, which one of the lady...things...were you sweet with?"

The iris narrows. Electricity sparks around the iris and a random bolt of lightning turns the sand beneath Autochthon to glass. "None. I was too hideous for them to look upon." The sphere turns back to the horizon. "It will take us five days to cross. We should keep walking."

 

[GreggHL]

They were not the only travelers on the long silver sands. They would pass bodies, travelers face down in the desert, some eroded all the way to bones. As they passed them, the wind would float over, picking them up and carrying them away before returning a short time later.

"Where do you think she's taking them?" Kal asks.

Autochthon shrugs, and continues floating. Kal rubs the back of his neck, realizing that terrible truth. "I'm referring to wind as female. I don't believe I just did that. Like the desert is female, or the giant city with the green sun is male."

He mutters under his breath. There is already sand in his suit. And it isn't moving like sand, either. It managed to get past his seals, somehow, and now it's...roaming over his backside. "Ancestors, this sucks. And you've been damn quiet since I asked you about your love life."

The golden ball harrumphs. "It matters not. It takes us five days to reach the end of the desert and transit to Creation. We have time to be angry and to let anger go."

He blinks. "Wait, five days. What if we, I don't know, walk faster?"

"Five days."

"How about if we go really, really slow?"

"Five days. However, I would not recommend it, as that is against the rules and would make her upset."

Kal stops, arms hanging at his side. "That...that makes no sense."

The sphere stops, and floats back over. Behind them, Kamilla passes by, carrying away a skull and a leg bone. "It does. In its own twisted way. Cecelyne is the principle of Law. Therefor, within her borders, does she establish the Law. And her Law says that we must travel for five days to reach the edge of this desolation."

Kal works his jaw, under his helmet. "I...I still don't understand what that means!"

The plates shrug on the golden sphere. "I sympathize. The laws are hypocritical and nonsensical, and designed only to make you miserable. But they are Her laws and she is Law, and hence they must be followed!"

Kamilla floats by, holding a torso. She stops, turning to the two, and continues on. Kal works his jaw under his helmet, resting his palm against the tinted glass. Autochthon only stairs, shifting winds and sands around them, occasional arcs of lightning lighting the inside of his eye. Arms hanging at his side, Kal finally puts the pieces together.

"Tali...didn't explain a lot to me," he says, "But...you created, this." He pats his hand to his chest. "This...this thing inside me, right?"

"Yes. I created the Exaltations."

"Why?" Kal asks. He shrugs, hands ups. "I...look, I don't know the first thing about this. We get into the city, and the first thing that happens is the lady who greets us gets...possessed by a freakin' two bit supervillain, and then we get chased by a hurricane. Those...those are your family, right? Them, and the giant...thing...we rode on? And this?" He points down. "This to? This is your cousin?"

The eye tilts, its approximation of a nod. Kal asks himself how he got so good at reading the gestures of a half meter in diameter golden ball with no volume control, but rolls with it.

"Yes. They are." The head tilts. It shrugs. "At least, these are their jouten. They are bigger than this."

Kal works his jaw. Needs to find out what the Hell a jouten is at some point but still. "So why did you make'em?" The eye turns back to him. Behind Autochthon, Kamilla flies away with a thing that likes like the child of a Hanar and a Volus. "People fight wars for reasons, and that's what it was, right? So...why?"

The iris narrow, almost closing completely into a solid disc of silver. "Why?" The voice comes as almost a whisper. "Simple, really. I was too disgusting for them to look upon. I was always the one that was" There is a sound like metal grinding deep within the eye. "I was always the one who's talents were abused but never appreciated. Everything I created, every wonder I worked from impossibility was taken and not once was I considered anything more than a disgusting freak."

Kal takes a step back. "Wait. Wait a minute, Auto. You might be-"

"Every. Last. Thing." Thunder cracks overhead. "I created the Games and they took them. I created the Jadeborn and they shunned them. I created the Sun and Malfeas-that-was wrenched it from me so that his begotten son could have an appropriate chariot." Lightning strikes within a few paces of Kal, melting sand to glass. Kamilla flutters over, hovering behind Kal. "They took my inventions! They took my ideas! They took my patience and my craftsmanship. They took my SON and maimed him to create humanity!"

Kal takes another step back. The air above churns with the sounds of thunder and gathering static. Kamilla floats back with him, swirling behind his back. "Auto, what you're telling me? You...basically crippled God."

"I. Had. Cause." Thunder roars. Lightning strikes around them. A perfect circle of sand, all around them, become fine reflective glass. The golden sphere shakes, and lowers, the iris shifting open as the lightning within crackles and churns and grows dimmer. "Yes. Yes, I had cause."

Kamilla makes the sound of wind chimes. Darting under Kal's arm, she whirls around Autochthon. "We should continue on," Auto says, "We make no progress like this."

Floating, bobbing up and down in the air, Autochthon continues onward with Kamilla in tow. After a moment, Kal follows.

 

[GreggHL]

They walked, for hours, in total silence. Kamilla had taken her place in close proximity to her gold and round uncle, making the sound of sad wind chimes and occasionally gusting around him. She only left his side to carry away the occasional stray corpse.

Kal walked behind them, his thoughts drifting. To home. To the fleet. To the mission. To the war he finds himself embroiled in- the possibly hopeless war they nonetheless scored a great victory in. Mostly, though, they drift to one thing in particular. A face.

Long, curly purple hair. Eyes that had...have brilliance behind them he can't even begin to approach. Bravery that makes him, a trained Migrant Marine, feel like a kid hiding in a corner. Given, though, his memories mainly drift to her kissing him. Mainly to that.

Picking up his pace, he walks up to the sphere. He needs to talk. He needs to argue. He needs to get his mind off home, somehow. "So," he starts, "Can I-"

"No!" Autochthon bellows, but Kal quickly realizes he's looking past him, "Sand Pirate Blood Apes! We have been spotted!"

Well, Kal thinks. That works too.

Hands clench in just the right way. Electricity runs over the back of his hands as his knuckle dusters activate. Taking off in a sprint, he passes Auto, passes Kamilla, and charges towards the sound of horns and bellows.

And then he asks himself what Blood Apes are. Passing a dune, running into view of the three ships somehow sailing on sand, he gets his answer. So, he thinks, that's what those 'Elcor with human faces' he kept running into are actually called.

Ah well, Kal thinks. Can't be worse than Krogans. A final leap, and he runs up a thrown iron spear. The forward ship. Makes a mental count; seven of those...big...things. All wearing leather jackets, jerkins, and metal helmets. They roar at him as he leaps over the bow, weaving through the air and towards the mast.

One hand on the wood, he spins around it. Momentum carries him through the air. Fist back, eyes glowing yellow, he lets the Essence flow and calls up the boom. This is what he does.

Terrestrial Martial Art: Synthetic Hero Style

Care with Fragile Organics

The punch slams into the face of one of the blood apes. Essence and gravity do the rest. The shock runs through the face, through the skull, and vibrates the bone. Stumbling back, the demon is unconscious before he hits the deck.

A spear comes down where he was. Two, in fact. Where he was, but not where he is now. A standing leap sends him above them. His feet snap out, and smack them both in the face, twisting in mid air to grab the mast and kick himself off. He turns, flies knee first, and swings his foot into the side of a surprise'd ape's head.

Mass Effect Bludgeon.

The snap and a crack of thunder tosses him off the ship. Two down, five to go. On this ship, at least.
He falls back, back leg bent, front leg planted firmly on the hardwood. Hands in front of him. Opens one, turns it, and gestures them forward. "C'mon," he breathes, "Let's dance."

They take the bait. Two run at him, spears overhead. Sidearms in their free hand, cocked back and fingers on the trigger. He swings to the side. A fired pellet ignites a chunk of the bow behind him. Yeah, he thinks, That's mine now.

Moves like lightning, quick and hard. Slams one fist into one blood ape's face, ducks out of the way of the flying teeth. Grabs the gun as he goes limp, grabs the spear with the other hand. Swings the shaft into the back of the other's head and sends him down. This is his element. This is what he does.

He's a Migrant Fleet Marine, and this a boarding action.

The spear goes flying, and pins a charging ape to the mast. He grabs his gun, a punch to the jaw knocking him out, and slides across the deck. A quick check, a quick look, and he kicks open a door at waist height, cocks the gun, and fires.

Roars and shrieks from behind him as he runs, and he leaps off just as their powder stocks ignite. The blast sends him through the air, flipping end over end. Tucking and rolling, he heads the kinetic barriers squeal, gets more of the damn sand in his suit, and lands a crouch.

Two more of the ships bearing down. Beneath his mask, Kal'Reegar grins. This, he thinks, is a lot more his comfort zone. "I need something that explodes," he breathes.

He gets his wish, when a white lance flies out of nowhere. A flash of vermillion and it slams into one of the ships on the side, tearing it one end to the other. The ship buckles, collapses. Flames burst from within and sends metal, wood and crew flying.

One of whom is launched towards him. The ape sees him, and roars, arms out and diving towards him.

And then there's what Kal honestly calls a blur. Someone, right out of nowhere. She flies across the sand, slamming a foot into one arm, swinging the side of her hand into the other. The ape screams as bones shatter, but the scream's cut off when she just flows around him and wraps her arms around the ape's neck.

The ape is dead, face down in the sand and the woman is standing on him. Features hidden by grey cloth, a cloak surrounding her and scarves covering everything on her face save for green eyes. She stands on the dead ape, as the final ship comes alive with roars and bellows. It circles them as the sides open, harpoon guns sliding out.

And then the woman speaks, and it is with a tone that makes Kal want to salute.

"This traveler and his companions are under my protection." The voice carries onto the ship. Carries through the sand and air, crisp and clear. "Know this, if you wish to test the limits. One person in Hell has fought me and lived. He is behind me. You are are in front of me."

Eyes narrow. An extended hand wraps with vermillion. "If you value your lives, be somewhere else."

The ship turns and speeds away without a word. No argument given, none needed. Kal can already sense how the fight would have been a losing proposition. He clears his throat, hands folded behind him, chest out and head high.

"Thanks for the assistance, Ma'am," he says, "We were just-"

The eyes pin him where he stands. "Sidereal." She bites the word back like a bitter fruit. "Are they letting you out of Yu Shan young, or were you some unlucky Ronin who exalted in the middle of Hell?"

She walks over to him, grabbing him by the elbow. "Come with me. And I won't tell your big bad Sifu how you fought a group of Blood Apes like a punch drunk Haslanti..." The eyes narrow as her voice trails off. She looks down at his hand, then back at his helmet.

"What are you?" she demands, voice a quiet, but pointed whisper, "You're not human."

"And who are you?" He says the words before he can think them. The voice is familiar. The eyes, too. Something, something about her is setting off all sorts of bells in the back of his head.

And then she pulls down the scarves, revealing his face. Once again, Kal'Reegar speaks before he really should. "Captain Shepard? What are you doing he-"

The hand moves like an attacking snake. The helmet explodes, glass and metal and plastics expanding into a sphere around his head, as the force sends him off his feet and out of her grip. Kal'Reegar is unconscious before he hits the sand.


End Chapter 1

 

[GreggHL]

He rubs the bridge of his nose, taking advantage of the distraction to pull his helmet back on. Tucking the dreads underneath it, he snaps on the seals and watches the heads up display come to life. Targeting reticules appear over the woman, Auto, and Wuffles, as they talk amongst themselves. Then he realizes something.

"How is everyone speaking Khelish?" Not-Hannah Shepard turns to him, an eyebrow cocked and lips a straight line. A mix of curious about the question and contained incense that he once again has opened his mouth.

"A simple question with a simple answer!" Auto lowers himself to Kal's eye level. "I have taken the liberty of modifying your omnitool with the full dictionaries, dialects, and accents available in Creation! As long as it is powered and on, you will have no trouble communicating!"

Yeah, Kal thinks. That's not something that won't be a problem. Note to self: Learn languages for when my omnitool breaks. "Sounds right," he says, and dusts himself off as he stands, "Wuffles, When'd you get into my suit?"

"We uploaded a copy of our runtimes when Iri asked you to step through the Gate." Petals fold around their head. "We believed our assistance would be required. Or, if not required, at least welcome."

Kal nods, patting the Geth on the shoulder. Turning to the woman, he bows his head and drops to one knee. Wuffles follows suit. "Apologies for the bad first impression, Ma'am. My name is Kal'Reegar vas Rayya nar Idenna. I'm not from around here. As far as I know, I'm from at least the next universe over."

She nods, arms folded. Nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. Testing the truth and worthiness of the tail, even as he speaks it. Kal speaks, telling of his origin- of the galaxy he has come from, of the quest he is on. As little of it as he knows, at least. He is here for protection, he explained, of the golden sphere.

"Who you name as Autochthon," she says, stroking her chin, pinning the eye with but a stare that makes it hover in perfect stillness, "Yes. Yes, I can see that. You have his trademarks. You have his fabled mania and lacking grasp of consequences."

"We hypothesize that our task is as much to protect Autochthon from himself, as it is to protect him from Creation," Wuffles explains. Auto narrows his iris, turning to the Geth. "Additionally, while we appreciate your effort to save us, we have observed that your interactions with us have been rooted in violence."

She snorts. Hand rests on the table next to her as Autochthon floats off to the crystal windows overlooking the desert. The plates move, quickly and with sparks of lightning hinted in the cracks. Waving off the Geth, she pushes herself from the table and walks to the brass chest against the far wall.

The top is pulled open, and a burst of cold fills the room, followed by a iron ball being thrown into Kal's hands. Turning it over, he sees the cork in it and pulls it out, the helmet's HUD confirming that yes, what is in there is edible. Even for him, somehow.

"There are more pirates in the area," she says, "I know Autochthon by reputation. You two, however, probably have a plan. What is it?"

His helmet drops to the floor. Taking his first sip, he feels the burning of the alcohol. Probably why it registered as edible. Strong enough for levo or dextro to drink. "Figured we'd have more of the bosh'tets to deal with, so was planning to rig up one of the wrecks."

She nods. "You're poorly prepared for the Endless Desert." A quick thwack against the wall. A hidden door slides open, and she pulls out a pair of gray cloaks. A flick of the wrist sends them to Kal and Wuffles. "Concealment. Lay on the sand in them, the only thing that sees you is her. And she doesn't care."

Kal nods. Auto remains silent, watching the distance, even as the gust of wind marks the return of Kamilla. Wuffles extends their petals as her fingers find their way on the underside of their head. "You. Both of you are aliens. From another Creation, is it?" A faint smirk crosses her features. "In my younger days, I was tempted to go out and see what lay past the boundaries of even the Infinite. Looks like there is more out there."

She leans against the table, a quick push of her hands bringing her to sitting on it. "Who made you?"

"We were created by the Quarians approximately-"

"No." Her finger wags. Face stern like a schoolmarm. "Not you, you fascinating cloud of little gods. Your universe. Your Creation." She strokes her chin. "Hm...Rametheus was dealt with. Was it Ipithaleumas, the Sky Piercing Cloud? Or Ulamitalius? The Rock and the Wall?"

Kal shrugs. "Dunno." He rubs the back of his neck, and sits back down. Back against the wall, but hopefully only figuratively. "Dunno, honestly. Best bet we got for any of that is him." She gestures to Autochthon, who says nothing. "What about you? Who're you?"

She smirks. "You are not native to this land, so my name is nothing more than a word." She pushes off. Standing tall, but shorter than either him or Wuffles, he finds that she suddenly has a golden sword in her hand. "But I am the protector of these Deserts. Or the travelers in it, who come from my Creation or any others."

A sheath appears, and she slides the sword in. "My titles and past names are but stories. My old legends are just myth. But you, aliens?" She smirks, and he can definitely see how she reminded him of Captain Hannah. "You may call me Merela."

 

[GreggHL]

Opening news feed. Login; Infi7tratorN7

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Access granted to Normandy (SR2) datanet

Upload at 1%
"-quoted from Shaman Bakura on the Krogan colony of Gnosis, that 'If the homeworld has truly been lost, then we shall mourn for it, but we only ask that all children of Tuchunka look not to the past, but the hopeful future we can forge without the weight of our past-"

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Crew Manifest for Normandy (SR2):

Transfers (from Normandy):

Taylor, Jacob (to SSV Majestic)

Jackowksi, Emma (to SSV Kilimanjaro)

Transfers (to Normandy)

Traynor, Samantha (data analyst)

Transfers (within Normandy)

Chambers, Kelly (conn officer)

"-construction continues in Earth orbit of the new SSV Majestic, a new class of Dreadnought being constructed with alien assistance. Despite protests by the Terra Firma party, the lead engineer; a woman hailing from a previously unknown alien species named Entrepreneurial Iridescent Cecay- or Iri, for short- has already won over most critics with her cheerful demeanor and impressive engineering skills-"

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"-was lost with the colony on Parkers Canyon, and when the picket fleet arrived, all three thousands, five hundred inhabitants were missing. On the sixth month anniversary of the attack by the alien race referred to as 'the Reapers' on Eden Prime, questions are raised in the Alliance Parliament on whether this is an old threat, or a new one."

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"-protheans Javik and Vessae were questioned on their roles in the Eden Prime attack by the Reapers. While arguing broke out when Javik reportedly questioned the competence, literacy, breeding and reproductive abilities of the Prime Minister, Vessae defused the situation and shed light on the possible-"

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"-while this was followed with the unexpected resignation of Ambassador Donnel Udina, Councillor Anderson has called for new reforms and closer ties with other Citadel cultures. That's the news for now. This is Eddie Wuffleton, Alliance Investigative News."

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The light flickers on. Shifting from side to side, the single glowing eye twitches, and the four petals raise on the dark blue head. "Upload complete. We are now located within this platform." The head cranes from side to side, shifting shoulders and finally moving out of the booth.

Three fingers hands flex. The long, lanky body twitches, shifts. Slowly, it tests each muscle group, each system, before finally going still and stiff. Then it turns and meets the eyes of the eighteen legged spider holding the chainsaw.

"Thank you, Iri. This platform meets our specifications."

The girl spider twitches her two fuzzy cat ears, clicking white furry mandibles. "No problem, Wuffles!" She places the chainsaw on the messy workbench, skittering across the floor of the workshop. "Sooooo what I did was strip down the Sol body, and build a new one for you based on your old platform!"

Wuffles looks down. Confirms that the hole is still located on the right side of their platform's chest. Approval is given. "We register changes in the makeup of this platform." The head twists around, looks down. "We have two arms."

"Yeah, you weren't really using four." Iri skitters past, descending into a pile of parts, scrap metal and what look like organs. "I also added some new stuff! You still got the Essence reactor Autodono installed, but you've also got some Jade built into the armor! Try it out!"

Wuffles extends their petals. With practiced ease, they direct the power downwards, outwards, inwards. The power of their Enlightenment, the power of the Essence they understand is called upon.

And then the platform bursts into flames, burning red and hot. The petals fold down, and the flames disperse as if they were never there. "We approve of this modification. Thank you, Iri."

 

[GreggHL]

She runs, moving like liquid lightning through the debris and hulks dotting the surface of Korlus. Darting from cover to cover, running along walls, she moves through it like a ghost. Even as she hears the sounds of gunfire, even as she hears the panic of the mercenaries, she moves.

The sun beats down on the smog choked clouds. Screams and roars in the distance as she moves, running through empty fields, leaping over waist high walls, letting momentum and urgency carry her along. On a bridge overhead, she hears explosions, and a scream. Digging heels into the metal, she reaches out and grabs the human in the blue and white armor, tossing him aside and grabbing the next.

The two Blue Suns land next to each other, slumped against the metal and rust wall. A roar, and Jane turns, just in time to see the trunk like feet impact. Metal folds up around its thick, wide frame, crimson eyes glowing on the dung colored helmet. Holding a shotgun in one hand, a rifle in the other, the beast roars and runs at her.

A charging Krogan. Even six months ago, this would have made her nervous. A smirk beneath her helmet, and she brings her fist back. Concentrating, drawing upon the power deep within her.

Celestial Martial Art: Solar Hero Style.

Sunlight gathers in lazy circles, running up her arm and gathering into her open palm. A crack and she clenches her fist, just as the Krogan comes within arms reach of her.

There is a blur, and her fist connects with its face. She can hear the sound of the jawbone shatter. She can hear the sudden gurgle as something hard goes into something soft.

Heaven Thunder Hammer.

And then the Krogan goes flying, into the wall some twenty yards away and through it.

She turns, idly rotating on her heel. The two Blue Suns have their pistols out, aiming at her. She closes her eyes and concentrates for but a second, letting the appropriate power waft off of her. Opening her eyes, she sees the pistols drop to the floor just as they fall to their knees.

"Excellent work, Shepard." The corner of her vision folds out into the image of a woman with aqua blue skin and long violet hair, a blue ring rotating behind her. "I remember that charm. 'Majestic Radiant Presence.' Should make this a bit easier."

"Yeah, I don't get to do 'easy', Pria." She continues, walking over a rickety rusted bridge. "So explain to me again, why aren't I running dry? Because the Geth are worshipping me?"

"After a fashion. Prayer creates Essence, and it is directed towards you. You still need to pace yourself, but on the other hand you find yourself 'topped off' faster. And, you need less sleep."

Jane cocks an eyebrow. She shakes her head, and continues on, shrugging. "Never mind."

"You still need to sleep. It's just that your will depletes less." Pria examines her fingertips, pursing her lips. "Ah, I remember your predecessor. Arima was very effective at gathering his cult. Had entire worlds praying to him."

Jane continues walking. Blue Suns- expert mercenaries, known throughout the Galaxy as expertly trained, recklessly fearless mercs- fall to their knees as she passes. "Yeah. You mentioned him before." A thought comes, almost unbidden. "You admired him?"

The goddess waggles her eyebrows. "Everyone did. Our entire Circle did. He was quite lucky, too. Somehow he was the only male that time to get an Exaltation. Firm, fit, charismatic, and surrounded by superhuman females, and each of a different, exotic species."

Jane works her jaw. "Yeah, that's...that's not what I need to hear about."

Pria makes a sound. Somewhere between a growl, a purr, and a warble, eyes glazed over in memory. Of what, Jane isn't sure she wants to know. "I think I liked it better when you were half done and incompetent. At least then I didn't have to hear about all your sexytime adventures with the cycle's squid people."

Pria snorts. She would say 'snorts indignantly', but she was taught not to make redundant statements. "Just because you are a prude, Commander Shepard, does not mean I was or that the rest of your circle has to be. I am quite sure you will appreciate in time the excellent opportunities for romance that are open to you." And the image blinks and disappears.