The magistrate is currently somewhere, watching, waiting, building etc until his hero signal is activated.ForeverShogo said:
"SUPER-MAGISTRATE TO THE RESCUE!"
Terran Ingenuity (Starcraft x Mass Effect)
- Thread starter Xeno Major
- Start date
-
- Tags
- mass effect starcraft
"SUPER-MAGISTRATE TO THE RESCUE!"
Cyrus 21
Kamen Rider/Spirit of Chaos
- Location
- Canterlot
Kill it with Fire.cyko2041 said:
And now I and always will, view the magistrate wearing a pimp suit.cyko2041 said:
Cyrus 21
Kamen Rider/Spirit of Chaos
- Location
- Canterlot
No, he's Creed's Long lost son.Agayek said:
Explain how he manage to win, against vastly superior foes.
Cyrus 21
Kamen Rider/Spirit of Chaos
- Location
- Canterlot
And Imagine Creed showing up to look for his son....LONE WOLF 666 said:
TITANS BEHIND FLAGPOLES! BANEBLADES HIDDEN INSIDE OUTHOUSES!
Reapers: "CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!"
harouki
Getting over it
- Location
- California
You mean..."does?"bdun140 said:
staplesdex2
CLASSFIED
We need more stories about the Magistrate. 
The one that comes closest to this is the Magistrate Quest over in the BROB thread. Even then it's still not enough.
The one that comes closest to this is the Magistrate Quest over in the BROB thread. Even then it's still not enough.Hell, he could probably pull together a pretty hefty force from those that survived under his command and their friends.Fancy Face said:
Cyanios
Advice Eldar.
Unless it's a race to claim a dreadnaught i'm not interested.Ace of Scarabs said:
harouki
Getting over it
- Location
- California
You understood that?Arimai said:
Oh dear...bdun140 said:
You reminded me of how I would end the Starcraft matches I had with friends over 10 years ago.
...May want to try getting back on topic now XD.
I like the turtle song better. Ahhh, the wonders of terran engineering.
RogueInquisitor
Unexpected!
Question for the author: how do Terran warp drives compare with in terms of speed to non-relay ME-FTL, in short and long range? (short being without having to discharge the drive core, long meaning average speed including stops to discharge) Also, how much would a Terran ship need to be modified to use the Relays?
DarthThrawn
Bloody Eldar
I think the best part is his name, honestly.Forgetful said:
Max Hardberger.
Max. Hard. Burger.
16
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Chapter 3 (Snip 3)
The shuttle jolted, sending a shudder of force through the white bodywork.
"Just the artificial gravity, Captain," the pilot says, frowning as she adjusts her controls. "Sorry about the shudder – if I had to guess, I'd say that the Terrans don't care to make the transition smooth. That, or they don't have enough control over the tech."
"Thanks for the input, but that's my problem," Celda responded kindly, laying a reassuring hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Keep the engines dialed down after you land – we don't want to frighten the Terrans any more than the turians have."
"Understood, Captain."
Celda flattened out her gown one more time apprehensively, glancing at each of the four black-clad commandos that formed her security detail.
"Remember, stay inside the shuttle unless I specifically call for you," she told them, her voice steady even though her hands clenched nervously.
"We know, Captain. You don't need to remind us," replied the squad leader, who was an old friend of Celda's. "Take a breath, Captain, it's going to be fine."
"Sorry, didn't mean for it to be that obvious," Celda apologized, a weak smile on her lips.
"It's not – we all feel the same way. Just keep in mind that no matter how badly this goes, you're still going to do better than the turians."
"Aliza, those are your allies," Celda reprimanded sharply, glaring at the brash commando.
"Doesn't make it any less true. The turians messed up, and everybody knows it. The only question is who gets the blame."
"Yes, this line of thought is doing wonders for my confidence right now," Celda snarked, rolling her eyes. "If only every commando had your lack of manners."
"With respect, ma'am, I think I'm helping your confidence quite a bit, if you're joking like that," the commando replied shrewdly. "Just let the tension out, ma'am."
Celda chuckled, conceding defeat.
There wasn't anything more to say, so the four commandos took up their positions by the shuttle's door, carefully out of sight, as the shuttle shook lightly again.
"We're down, Captain," the pilot called back, as she flipped a few switches and powered down the engine. "Looks like a small welcoming committee is waiting for you."
"Thank you, sister. Let's hope this goes well," Celda nodded thankfully, before palming the door's green holographic icon, briefly admiring the shuttle's pristine white and blue paintjob.
The door slid open silently, and Celda stepped out onto the Terran ship proudly and confidently, smiling as she did.
The armored Terrans were the first thing she noticed, four of them standing ten meters away with boxy rifles in hand.
They kept the barrels point to the ground, but Celda carefully observed how that wouldn't stop them from immediately opening fire, if they need to.
Two more Terrans stood closer, looking quite dissimilar as she walked briskly forward.
She recognized one of them; Marshall James Raynor, the one who spoke for the Terrans over the holocomm.
Raynor was still dressed in his worn and stained clothes, as if he had just come from a machine shop, but his eyes told Celda to be very careful about underestimating him.
The other Terran also had dark fur atop his head, but his chin and lower face were clear, displaying a solid jawline. His face was chiseled from stone and just as emotionless, the sign of tight emotional discipline.
Unlike Raynor, this Terran was clad in dark formal clothing with golden buttons, with two large pauldrons. His hands were gloved, and his bearing was distinctly military, similar to numerous turians Celda knew.
Despite the apparent difference between the two men, there was a faint sign of familiarity between them. Presumably, the two had worked together before.
For a brief moment, she internally grimaced, painfully aware of how formal she looked when compared to the two informally dressed Terrans.
While beautiful, the long white gown of an asari diplomat did not appear similar to the garb of the Terrans, and that might cost her some initial camaraderie.
She stopped walking a respectful meter from the two Terrans, still smiling politely.
"It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Marshall James Raynor," she said respectfully, nodding to him.
"Likewise, Celda T'Vanse. Please, just call me Jim," Raynor replied cordially, stepping forward and extending his hand.
Celda paused momentarily, unsure about the gesture, but she mimicked him quickly, holding her right hand out as well.
Raynor took another step, clasping her hand with his, and shaking it once, firmly. He smiled, nodding as he stepped back.
It must be a common greeting ritual, Celda mused. Clasp the right hand with your right, then shake it up, then down. Simple enough.
Perhaps she'd underestimated the Terrans? Just because their technology appeared brutish for all its advancement didn't mean that their culture was similar, after all.
"Celda, this is my good friend Matt," Raynor continued, introducing his comrade.
'Matt' also stepped forward, and Celda smoothly shook his hand, the awkwardness of the first handshake noticeably absent.
"My name is Matt Horner, Ms. T'Vanse," Horner greeted, bending at the waist and inclining his head slightly.
Celda's eyes widened as the Terran carefully pulled her hand closer, before kissing the back of it with elegant grace.
"A pleasure to meet you," Horner said cordially, locking eyes with Celda for a moment, before breaking off and stepping back to his stop.
Yes, Celda had definitely underestimated the Terrans.
For a brief moment, she let her eyes wander across the landing bay, taking in the faint aroma of oil and grease that was undoubtedly coming from hastily put away mechanical tools.
The deck and walls were all made out a dark metal, which faint yellow lines industrially painted at crisscrossing intersections.
Then, as she quickly glanced around, she saw them.
Over to the side, tucked away almost out of sight behind her shuttle, an enormous tank sat inactive.
It used simple tracks, unlike the modern hover-technology that the turians employed, but that only added to the sheer presence that the weapon had.
In particular, the intimidating bulk of the massive cannon unnerved her, making her wonder why they would need such a powerful ground weapon when they clearly had the capability for orbital bombardment.
In the farthest corner stood a large mechanical walker, with a pair of large cylindrical weapons hefted underneath twinned racks of missiles.
The entire machine was massive, easily topping seven meters, and a bizarre amount of exposed servos and gears could be seen beneath its weaponized arms.
Celda was amazed at the sight of the two war machines, but she smoothly looked back at her hosts, having only glanced away for a moment.
"Will Hierarch Artanis be joining us?" Celda inquired politely, clasping her hands in front of her as she glimpsed the blue armored Terrans over James Raynor's shoulder.
"He'll be here soon, Celda," Raynor replied, nodding at something past her shoulder. "Here he comes now."
Celda turned, catching sight of a gleaming gold Protoss craft that was just entering the docking bay.
The craft was about the size of her shuttle, but it was strange.
She gazed at it, wondering curiously about the blue crystal at the center of the craft, and why it had no airtight compartment.
In fact, the device didn't seem to have any airtight section, for it was composed of golden outlines, akin to wings, which were wrapped around the central crystal.
Blue light shone between the wings, almost like a web or membrane of energy, and a 'nose' of four shaped golden plates appeared to be its front.
As she watched, the craft slowed gracefully to a stop, despite lacking an engine or a mass effect core.
Then it began to change.
The 'nose' moved upwards, to point at the ceiling, and the 'wings' of golden metal fanned outward, revealing the crystal inside as it slowly spun in place.
Confused, Celda opened her mouth to ask what the craft was, when a sudden beam of blue light shot out of the crystal, spreading faintly across the immediate area.
As she watched, a bright blue-white blur materialized into place beneath the crystal, the hazy shape slowly growing more defined as the light faded.
Awestruck, Celda stared as the light fades, leaving in its place a tall being with grey skin and clad in golden plate-armor. Eyes like a pair of miniature novas blazed on a craggy grey face, and all the while the being strode towards them with long, fluid steps.
Oh Goddess, he just teleported.
Celda couldn't even being to imagine how STG was going to react when they learned that the Protoss could casually snap the laws of physics just so that they didn't have to sit in a shuttle.
If she were a hundred years younger, she would probably be gaping, mouth ajar, at the impossibility that had nonetheless happened right in front of her.
As the Protoss stepped closer, his boots clicked softly on the deck plating, and Celda had to tilt her head back to look at his eyes.
Protoss, Celda realized numbly, were tall.
While Terran armor seemed to add a third of a meter to their height, Raynor and Horner were around the average height on an asari.
In stark contrast, the majestic Protoss before her must have topped out at three meters tall, and it showed.
"Greeting, Hierarch Artanis," Celda welcomed politely, bowing her head in respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person."
"The pleasure is mine, Celda T'Vanse," Artanis boomed, his voice echoing around her, causing a miniscule flinch from Celda. "I apologize for any discomfort that my speech brings you. The people of the Protoss communicate through the vibration of air particles, but without a mouth, our speech cannot be directed as easily as yours might."
"It also tends to boom a little when they speak," Raynor said musingly, rubbing his furred chin as he nodded to the tall Protoss, unintimidated by the height difference. "Good to see you again, Artanis."
"As always, friend Raynor, the honor is mine," Artanis replied, bowing to Raynor, who merely waved him off.
"Are my expressions so easily read, Hierarch Artanis?" Celda asked curiously, as her awe began to fade. "I have noted some similarity between asari and Terran expressions, but I did not think it would be enough to notice."
"Your gestures were well-concealed, Celda T'Vanse, but I have considerable experience with Terran expressions. Your self-control is admirable," Artanis rumbled, bowing his head respectfully towards her.
"Thank you for the compliment, Hierarch," Celda smiled, nodding back to him.
"Don't worry, you get used to the Protoss after a while," Raynor informed her casually. "It just takes some getting used 'to. 'Course, it might just be a translator error."
"Yes, it might well be," Celda responded, turning back to Raynor. "Luckily, the meld will help with any translation issues. After sharing the meld, it is quite simple for me to speak 'English', just as it is simple for you to speak asari."
"Oh, of course. I'm sorry for holding this all up with chat," Raynor returned apologetically. "I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think I'm going to meld with you, darlin'. It's nothing personal, but I've got a lot of unpleasant memories locked up in my head that I'd rather not have you suffer through."
"It's entirely understandable, Jim," Celda reassured him, making sure to use his preferred name. "The meld is very malleable, and it is a simple matter to protect the memories of those sharing in it. Anything that someone wishes to keep hidden is left alone. It is a pleasant process, and is quite enjoyable."
"Nonetheless, I'd still rather not go through it," Raynor politely but firmly refused. "Please don't mistake this for some kinda insult; we'd still like for someone to meld with you. Tosh, c'mon over."
Raynor turned around, waving a hand vaguely at the four armor-clad Terrans near the back of the bay.
Celda blinked, and a muscular Terran slipped out from behind one of the Terrans in armor, moving closer in a way that could only be described as stalking.
A more slender form followed, and Celda's eyes widened as she beheld the female.
The female was silent, and her dark expression broadcast her dislike of the situation, but the similarities between her and Celda were unmistakable.
The lithe form, the swell of mammary tissue, the sculpted face – the Terran female were almost identical to an asari!
That was crazy, almost impossible when you considered the genetics and evolution necessary for such a thing to occur!
Granted, their skin pigmentation was still a pale pinkish-orange, and they had fur on their heads, but the bone structure and other physical similarities were simply astonishing!
Celda couldn't help but smile broadly at this, as the female continued to scowl.
"Easy now, Nova," Raynor called back. "She doesn't mean us any harm, so relax."
The female didn't relax.
The muscular dark-skinned man beside her reached over with a bulky arm and embraced the woman, pulling her close and simply hugging her. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out, even though they were quite close to Celda and the others.
After a moment, the dark-skinned man pulled away, kissed the woman's forehead, and stalked over to the group; his strange eyes alight with something, giving Celda the impression of a joker, despite the man's muscular bulk.
Though she could see that the man did have irises to his eyes, they were milky-white, almost completely blended in with the rest of his eyes.
"Celda, this is my good friend Tosh," Raynor introduced. "He volunteered to meld with you, so that we can expand our… friendly relations."
"A pleasure ta meet'chu, Celda T'Vanse," Tosh said, his word tinged with an unusual accent that seemed to match his rakish grin. "So, how dis 'hole melding business be done?"
"It's quite simple, Tosh," Celda said, smiling back at him. "I'm going to spread my arms out – like this – and embrace you, just like you embraced Nova over there. Now, during the process, my eyes will turn black. That's nothing to be afraid of, just a simple biological effect. After that, there's no real way to describe what a meld does: you just have to experience it."
"I got a question," Raynor said. "If you meld with Tosh here, then are you gonna end up with an accent like his? I don't think it'd be a good idea to have every asari in the galaxy talking like that – no offense Tosh."
"None taken, brudda," Tosh rumbled, chuckling.
"No, the accent won't be transferred," Celda answered, chuckling as well at the mental image. "The transfer of knowledge is a little more complicated than that."
"Alri'ght, den," Tosh said with another smirk. "Let's get to da meldin'."
Celda nodded, and approached him, her arms spread apart and her body starting to race as the meld took root.
"Embrace eternity," she said, wrapping her arms around his broad torso, touching him through his bodysuit and feeling his mind.
Xxxx
The world faded away, and for a brief, yet infinite moment, Celda floated in an indiscernible sea of thoughts.
It was as if she was swimming amongst wave composed of half-remembered memories and wayward emotions, touching every fiber of Tosh's being at once, but without knowing them, without understanding them.
This was the first step; the begging of merging the two separate minds into one large space and fully share one's very being with a partner.
It wasn't really a sea of memories, of course, but that was how she liked to visualize it.
Dat be an interesting way 'a lookin' at it, Celda T'Vanse.
Celda acknowledged the amused words of Tosh, sending a detached bundle of emotional happiness towards him rather than respond in words.
Here, she didn't have to use words. She could communicate simply through shared emotions and feelings, transmitted instantly to her partner without any possible room for misinterpretation.
To understand a memory, all she had to do was submerge herself into the Sea of Tosh and open her eyes, albeit metaphorically.
Understanding something was as simple as opening the core of your mind to that something and pulling it deep into yourself, to comprehend it fully.
But without the willing consent of the partner, each memory would be a confusing jumble of data, be it visual, audio, or any of the other senses.
To understand something, you had to put the pieces together, which meant that you either had to be familiar with that particular species, or you had to share that person's own mind.
By sharing the core of their mind, you could unlock a memory much like how a security code unlocked a vault, or a cipher to a code, allowing you to understand that memory fully and completely.
Of course, if you didn't fully trust whoever you were melding with, it was still possible to understand a memory with enough time, or, if the situation was desperate enough, by shattering your partner's mind.
Celda didn't share that piece of info with Tosh.
That particular information was not well known amongst the asari populace, and had only come to her because of her friendship with the elusive Spectre Tela Vasir.
…But the Sea of Knowledge was different, this time.
It wasn't a gentle swell of emotions and memories, but a turbulent ocean.
Each new memory that she touched left a bizarre tingling sensation, like some kind of electric shock.
She'd never felt anything like it, despite the many years of her life as a Matron.
She shared this with Tosh, but he did not respond.
Frantic, she searched for his presence, but it had vanished.
Vanished!
That was impossible! You couldn't just disappear from your own mind, but yet she was unable to feel his mind anywhere in the jumbled vortex of memories.
She had only had time to access the surface layer of thoughts, nowhere near enough time to fully comprehend his memories, but she had to leave now.
She had to leave now.
Celda tried to understand this thought, because it hadn't come from her own mind, and it hadn't come from the sea, but she had to leave now.
Shehadtoleavenow.
Desperate, Celda tore herself away from Tosh's mind, pulling every part of her essence back to the safety of her own body.
The electrical shock of Tosh's memories lingered, and she felt agitated, like her heart was racing, like a thousand Maidens were jumping on her nervous system, like – like – likelikelike –
Shehadtoleavenow
Leaveleaveleaveleaveleaverunawayandfightanotherdayandrunandrunandrunand –
AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa
Xxxx
Celda ripped herself away from Tosh, stumbling backwards across the dark metal deck as her mindracedandtoreandjumpedandbouncedandwhatthehellwashappening
Unable to cope with the stress, Celda's eyes rolled up into her head, and her last sight was of the ceiling, high above her.
The shuttle jolted, sending a shudder of force through the white bodywork.
"Just the artificial gravity, Captain," the pilot says, frowning as she adjusts her controls. "Sorry about the shudder – if I had to guess, I'd say that the Terrans don't care to make the transition smooth. That, or they don't have enough control over the tech."
"Thanks for the input, but that's my problem," Celda responded kindly, laying a reassuring hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Keep the engines dialed down after you land – we don't want to frighten the Terrans any more than the turians have."
"Understood, Captain."
Celda flattened out her gown one more time apprehensively, glancing at each of the four black-clad commandos that formed her security detail.
"Remember, stay inside the shuttle unless I specifically call for you," she told them, her voice steady even though her hands clenched nervously.
"We know, Captain. You don't need to remind us," replied the squad leader, who was an old friend of Celda's. "Take a breath, Captain, it's going to be fine."
"Sorry, didn't mean for it to be that obvious," Celda apologized, a weak smile on her lips.
"It's not – we all feel the same way. Just keep in mind that no matter how badly this goes, you're still going to do better than the turians."
"Aliza, those are your allies," Celda reprimanded sharply, glaring at the brash commando.
"Doesn't make it any less true. The turians messed up, and everybody knows it. The only question is who gets the blame."
"Yes, this line of thought is doing wonders for my confidence right now," Celda snarked, rolling her eyes. "If only every commando had your lack of manners."
"With respect, ma'am, I think I'm helping your confidence quite a bit, if you're joking like that," the commando replied shrewdly. "Just let the tension out, ma'am."
Celda chuckled, conceding defeat.
There wasn't anything more to say, so the four commandos took up their positions by the shuttle's door, carefully out of sight, as the shuttle shook lightly again.
"We're down, Captain," the pilot called back, as she flipped a few switches and powered down the engine. "Looks like a small welcoming committee is waiting for you."
"Thank you, sister. Let's hope this goes well," Celda nodded thankfully, before palming the door's green holographic icon, briefly admiring the shuttle's pristine white and blue paintjob.
The door slid open silently, and Celda stepped out onto the Terran ship proudly and confidently, smiling as she did.
The armored Terrans were the first thing she noticed, four of them standing ten meters away with boxy rifles in hand.
They kept the barrels point to the ground, but Celda carefully observed how that wouldn't stop them from immediately opening fire, if they need to.
Two more Terrans stood closer, looking quite dissimilar as she walked briskly forward.
She recognized one of them; Marshall James Raynor, the one who spoke for the Terrans over the holocomm.
Raynor was still dressed in his worn and stained clothes, as if he had just come from a machine shop, but his eyes told Celda to be very careful about underestimating him.
The other Terran also had dark fur atop his head, but his chin and lower face were clear, displaying a solid jawline. His face was chiseled from stone and just as emotionless, the sign of tight emotional discipline.
Unlike Raynor, this Terran was clad in dark formal clothing with golden buttons, with two large pauldrons. His hands were gloved, and his bearing was distinctly military, similar to numerous turians Celda knew.
Despite the apparent difference between the two men, there was a faint sign of familiarity between them. Presumably, the two had worked together before.
For a brief moment, she internally grimaced, painfully aware of how formal she looked when compared to the two informally dressed Terrans.
While beautiful, the long white gown of an asari diplomat did not appear similar to the garb of the Terrans, and that might cost her some initial camaraderie.
She stopped walking a respectful meter from the two Terrans, still smiling politely.
"It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Marshall James Raynor," she said respectfully, nodding to him.
"Likewise, Celda T'Vanse. Please, just call me Jim," Raynor replied cordially, stepping forward and extending his hand.
Celda paused momentarily, unsure about the gesture, but she mimicked him quickly, holding her right hand out as well.
Raynor took another step, clasping her hand with his, and shaking it once, firmly. He smiled, nodding as he stepped back.
It must be a common greeting ritual, Celda mused. Clasp the right hand with your right, then shake it up, then down. Simple enough.
Perhaps she'd underestimated the Terrans? Just because their technology appeared brutish for all its advancement didn't mean that their culture was similar, after all.
"Celda, this is my good friend Matt," Raynor continued, introducing his comrade.
'Matt' also stepped forward, and Celda smoothly shook his hand, the awkwardness of the first handshake noticeably absent.
"My name is Matt Horner, Ms. T'Vanse," Horner greeted, bending at the waist and inclining his head slightly.
Celda's eyes widened as the Terran carefully pulled her hand closer, before kissing the back of it with elegant grace.
"A pleasure to meet you," Horner said cordially, locking eyes with Celda for a moment, before breaking off and stepping back to his stop.
Yes, Celda had definitely underestimated the Terrans.
For a brief moment, she let her eyes wander across the landing bay, taking in the faint aroma of oil and grease that was undoubtedly coming from hastily put away mechanical tools.
The deck and walls were all made out a dark metal, which faint yellow lines industrially painted at crisscrossing intersections.
Then, as she quickly glanced around, she saw them.
Over to the side, tucked away almost out of sight behind her shuttle, an enormous tank sat inactive.
It used simple tracks, unlike the modern hover-technology that the turians employed, but that only added to the sheer presence that the weapon had.
In particular, the intimidating bulk of the massive cannon unnerved her, making her wonder why they would need such a powerful ground weapon when they clearly had the capability for orbital bombardment.
In the farthest corner stood a large mechanical walker, with a pair of large cylindrical weapons hefted underneath twinned racks of missiles.
The entire machine was massive, easily topping seven meters, and a bizarre amount of exposed servos and gears could be seen beneath its weaponized arms.
Celda was amazed at the sight of the two war machines, but she smoothly looked back at her hosts, having only glanced away for a moment.
"Will Hierarch Artanis be joining us?" Celda inquired politely, clasping her hands in front of her as she glimpsed the blue armored Terrans over James Raynor's shoulder.
"He'll be here soon, Celda," Raynor replied, nodding at something past her shoulder. "Here he comes now."
Celda turned, catching sight of a gleaming gold Protoss craft that was just entering the docking bay.
The craft was about the size of her shuttle, but it was strange.
She gazed at it, wondering curiously about the blue crystal at the center of the craft, and why it had no airtight compartment.
In fact, the device didn't seem to have any airtight section, for it was composed of golden outlines, akin to wings, which were wrapped around the central crystal.
Blue light shone between the wings, almost like a web or membrane of energy, and a 'nose' of four shaped golden plates appeared to be its front.
As she watched, the craft slowed gracefully to a stop, despite lacking an engine or a mass effect core.
Then it began to change.
The 'nose' moved upwards, to point at the ceiling, and the 'wings' of golden metal fanned outward, revealing the crystal inside as it slowly spun in place.
Confused, Celda opened her mouth to ask what the craft was, when a sudden beam of blue light shot out of the crystal, spreading faintly across the immediate area.
As she watched, a bright blue-white blur materialized into place beneath the crystal, the hazy shape slowly growing more defined as the light faded.
Awestruck, Celda stared as the light fades, leaving in its place a tall being with grey skin and clad in golden plate-armor. Eyes like a pair of miniature novas blazed on a craggy grey face, and all the while the being strode towards them with long, fluid steps.
Oh Goddess, he just teleported.
Celda couldn't even being to imagine how STG was going to react when they learned that the Protoss could casually snap the laws of physics just so that they didn't have to sit in a shuttle.
If she were a hundred years younger, she would probably be gaping, mouth ajar, at the impossibility that had nonetheless happened right in front of her.
As the Protoss stepped closer, his boots clicked softly on the deck plating, and Celda had to tilt her head back to look at his eyes.
Protoss, Celda realized numbly, were tall.
While Terran armor seemed to add a third of a meter to their height, Raynor and Horner were around the average height on an asari.
In stark contrast, the majestic Protoss before her must have topped out at three meters tall, and it showed.
"Greeting, Hierarch Artanis," Celda welcomed politely, bowing her head in respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person."
"The pleasure is mine, Celda T'Vanse," Artanis boomed, his voice echoing around her, causing a miniscule flinch from Celda. "I apologize for any discomfort that my speech brings you. The people of the Protoss communicate through the vibration of air particles, but without a mouth, our speech cannot be directed as easily as yours might."
"It also tends to boom a little when they speak," Raynor said musingly, rubbing his furred chin as he nodded to the tall Protoss, unintimidated by the height difference. "Good to see you again, Artanis."
"As always, friend Raynor, the honor is mine," Artanis replied, bowing to Raynor, who merely waved him off.
"Are my expressions so easily read, Hierarch Artanis?" Celda asked curiously, as her awe began to fade. "I have noted some similarity between asari and Terran expressions, but I did not think it would be enough to notice."
"Your gestures were well-concealed, Celda T'Vanse, but I have considerable experience with Terran expressions. Your self-control is admirable," Artanis rumbled, bowing his head respectfully towards her.
"Thank you for the compliment, Hierarch," Celda smiled, nodding back to him.
"Don't worry, you get used to the Protoss after a while," Raynor informed her casually. "It just takes some getting used 'to. 'Course, it might just be a translator error."
"Yes, it might well be," Celda responded, turning back to Raynor. "Luckily, the meld will help with any translation issues. After sharing the meld, it is quite simple for me to speak 'English', just as it is simple for you to speak asari."
"Oh, of course. I'm sorry for holding this all up with chat," Raynor returned apologetically. "I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think I'm going to meld with you, darlin'. It's nothing personal, but I've got a lot of unpleasant memories locked up in my head that I'd rather not have you suffer through."
"It's entirely understandable, Jim," Celda reassured him, making sure to use his preferred name. "The meld is very malleable, and it is a simple matter to protect the memories of those sharing in it. Anything that someone wishes to keep hidden is left alone. It is a pleasant process, and is quite enjoyable."
"Nonetheless, I'd still rather not go through it," Raynor politely but firmly refused. "Please don't mistake this for some kinda insult; we'd still like for someone to meld with you. Tosh, c'mon over."
Raynor turned around, waving a hand vaguely at the four armor-clad Terrans near the back of the bay.
Celda blinked, and a muscular Terran slipped out from behind one of the Terrans in armor, moving closer in a way that could only be described as stalking.
A more slender form followed, and Celda's eyes widened as she beheld the female.
The female was silent, and her dark expression broadcast her dislike of the situation, but the similarities between her and Celda were unmistakable.
The lithe form, the swell of mammary tissue, the sculpted face – the Terran female were almost identical to an asari!
That was crazy, almost impossible when you considered the genetics and evolution necessary for such a thing to occur!
Granted, their skin pigmentation was still a pale pinkish-orange, and they had fur on their heads, but the bone structure and other physical similarities were simply astonishing!
Celda couldn't help but smile broadly at this, as the female continued to scowl.
"Easy now, Nova," Raynor called back. "She doesn't mean us any harm, so relax."
The female didn't relax.
The muscular dark-skinned man beside her reached over with a bulky arm and embraced the woman, pulling her close and simply hugging her. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out, even though they were quite close to Celda and the others.
After a moment, the dark-skinned man pulled away, kissed the woman's forehead, and stalked over to the group; his strange eyes alight with something, giving Celda the impression of a joker, despite the man's muscular bulk.
Though she could see that the man did have irises to his eyes, they were milky-white, almost completely blended in with the rest of his eyes.
"Celda, this is my good friend Tosh," Raynor introduced. "He volunteered to meld with you, so that we can expand our… friendly relations."
"A pleasure ta meet'chu, Celda T'Vanse," Tosh said, his word tinged with an unusual accent that seemed to match his rakish grin. "So, how dis 'hole melding business be done?"
"It's quite simple, Tosh," Celda said, smiling back at him. "I'm going to spread my arms out – like this – and embrace you, just like you embraced Nova over there. Now, during the process, my eyes will turn black. That's nothing to be afraid of, just a simple biological effect. After that, there's no real way to describe what a meld does: you just have to experience it."
"I got a question," Raynor said. "If you meld with Tosh here, then are you gonna end up with an accent like his? I don't think it'd be a good idea to have every asari in the galaxy talking like that – no offense Tosh."
"None taken, brudda," Tosh rumbled, chuckling.
"No, the accent won't be transferred," Celda answered, chuckling as well at the mental image. "The transfer of knowledge is a little more complicated than that."
"Alri'ght, den," Tosh said with another smirk. "Let's get to da meldin'."
Celda nodded, and approached him, her arms spread apart and her body starting to race as the meld took root.
"Embrace eternity," she said, wrapping her arms around his broad torso, touching him through his bodysuit and feeling his mind.
Xxxx
The world faded away, and for a brief, yet infinite moment, Celda floated in an indiscernible sea of thoughts.
It was as if she was swimming amongst wave composed of half-remembered memories and wayward emotions, touching every fiber of Tosh's being at once, but without knowing them, without understanding them.
This was the first step; the begging of merging the two separate minds into one large space and fully share one's very being with a partner.
It wasn't really a sea of memories, of course, but that was how she liked to visualize it.
Dat be an interesting way 'a lookin' at it, Celda T'Vanse.
Celda acknowledged the amused words of Tosh, sending a detached bundle of emotional happiness towards him rather than respond in words.
Here, she didn't have to use words. She could communicate simply through shared emotions and feelings, transmitted instantly to her partner without any possible room for misinterpretation.
To understand a memory, all she had to do was submerge herself into the Sea of Tosh and open her eyes, albeit metaphorically.
Understanding something was as simple as opening the core of your mind to that something and pulling it deep into yourself, to comprehend it fully.
But without the willing consent of the partner, each memory would be a confusing jumble of data, be it visual, audio, or any of the other senses.
To understand something, you had to put the pieces together, which meant that you either had to be familiar with that particular species, or you had to share that person's own mind.
By sharing the core of their mind, you could unlock a memory much like how a security code unlocked a vault, or a cipher to a code, allowing you to understand that memory fully and completely.
Of course, if you didn't fully trust whoever you were melding with, it was still possible to understand a memory with enough time, or, if the situation was desperate enough, by shattering your partner's mind.
Celda didn't share that piece of info with Tosh.
That particular information was not well known amongst the asari populace, and had only come to her because of her friendship with the elusive Spectre Tela Vasir.
…But the Sea of Knowledge was different, this time.
It wasn't a gentle swell of emotions and memories, but a turbulent ocean.
Each new memory that she touched left a bizarre tingling sensation, like some kind of electric shock.
She'd never felt anything like it, despite the many years of her life as a Matron.
She shared this with Tosh, but he did not respond.
Frantic, she searched for his presence, but it had vanished.
Vanished!
That was impossible! You couldn't just disappear from your own mind, but yet she was unable to feel his mind anywhere in the jumbled vortex of memories.
She had only had time to access the surface layer of thoughts, nowhere near enough time to fully comprehend his memories, but she had to leave now.
She had to leave now.
Celda tried to understand this thought, because it hadn't come from her own mind, and it hadn't come from the sea, but she had to leave now.
Shehadtoleavenow.
Desperate, Celda tore herself away from Tosh's mind, pulling every part of her essence back to the safety of her own body.
The electrical shock of Tosh's memories lingered, and she felt agitated, like her heart was racing, like a thousand Maidens were jumping on her nervous system, like – like – likelikelike –
Shehadtoleavenow
Leaveleaveleaveleaveleaverunawayandfightanotherdayandrunandrunandrunand –
AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa
Xxxx
Celda ripped herself away from Tosh, stumbling backwards across the dark metal deck as her mindracedandtoreandjumpedandbouncedandwhatthehellwashappening
Unable to cope with the stress, Celda's eyes rolled up into her head, and her last sight was of the ceiling, high above her.
The scary thing?
Still probably better then what would have happened to her if she tried to mind link with Raynor.
Still probably better then what would have happened to her if she tried to mind link with Raynor.
That's a possibility.
Honestly I'm kind of wondering what has happened on Tosh's end of things. I hope the big guy didn't just lose his sense of self identity or something along those lines.
Honestly I'm kind of wondering what has happened on Tosh's end of things. I hope the big guy didn't just lose his sense of self identity or something along those lines.