Chapter Text
The elder chose to stay with the trio.
He enjoyed the petting, and if the youthful Lug-Dah muttered a word to anyone about it, he’d ensure Lug-Dah never saw another sunrise. Lug-Dah gathered a handful of comrades to patrol a wider area.
The Wanderers, as they’ve become known, were well accepted among the Trescrus and a no-harm order crossed all elder councils. Their dedication to solving the Prothean threat endeared them further on his goodwill; not that he could convey that to them. Protheans communicated through touch, but these aliens did not.
The suit-creatures, outsiders, and long-legs; he knew they were correctly called quarian, angara, and humans, but with limited communications, he saw no reason to use those identifiers personally. Everyone called the quarians suit-creatures, and the long-legs were as often pale as they were earthen colored. The outsiders smelled funny and hummed with strange energy.
The Wanderers currently argued about how to proceed. He used the long-leg’s pack as a pillow.
“You left and then you brought trouble back.” Suit-creature accused.
Sila, Ko-Dah, corrected out of respect.
“I did not, and you know that. You’re mad that you didn’t go with me.” Long-legs sputtered.
“Why is everything about you?” Sila whined petulantly.
“I didn’t ask for this, Sila. All I wanted to do was race. You want answers about Cerberus? Fenella’s aboard the Normandy right now. She’s the one who worked for them, not me.” Joslyn pointed in the wrong direction.
The male stepped between, a hand placed on each shoulder.
“Sila, Jos is right. No one can change the way the world chooses to perceive her. We are her friends. We choose to be her friends regardless – “
“I’m revoking my friendship after this is over.” Sila threatened.
Joslyn’s face paled considerably. Then she yanked Tisaen’s hand off her shoulder.
“I’m tired of living in your disreputable shadow.” Sila pressed the subject.
“Fine.” Joslyn’s anger flared. “After this shitshow is over, we don’t need to talk to each other.”
Tisaen snapped his fingers at them. “We have the problem of the protheans at hand. They’re going to come back and discover the patrol missing. The bloody marks on the ground will be noticed.”
“They’ll also notice the paw tracks.” Joslyn argued. “If they hadn’t already. Remember they locked us in.”
“We need to get back in that building. Explore the rest of it.” Sila begrudged.
They looked at him now.
He nodded in approval.
“We may not find anything, but it wouldn’t hurt to use the building for our own purposes.” Sila argued. “It would be a good home alternative for quarians.”
They quietly agreed.
“Then we wait.” Tisaen announced to the group. “Set up camp and wait.”
They found an area surrounded by thick brush and settled in. Sila encrypted the stream signal under Tisaen’s fussing. Joslyn tinkered with Bot and made small repairs. Ko-Dah tucked himself into the brush and listened for trouble. Joslyn soon sat by him and stroked his back neck to tail.
Damnit. He liked that a lot. Especially when she scratched the itchy spot no tree could quiet.
“I didn’t want any of this.” She whispered to him. “None of it. I just wanted to have a good life. Do you know how hard it is to have a good life when everyone thinks you’re the villain? When you can’t do anything right?”
He rested his head on her lap and closed his eyes.
“I chose to give this planet a chance.” She kissed the top of his head and awkwardly hugged him. “I’m glad the Three-Legs are giving me a chance. Thank you.”
He liked this. This was new, this was different. Different wasn’t too bad.
xxx
Liara, Nihlus, Yemma, and Fabron sat around the town hall table and watched the various live feeds. No one spoke, silence blanketing the otherwise empty building. For a prefab building, it was spacious. The metal and natural elements blended together for a true colonial aesthetic. Potted plants filled the corners; technological displays adorned the walls at strategic points for the crowds that filled the space time to time; The floor bore witness marks of civilization. There was life in this town hall, a spirit that defied all.
Doors were powered up and opened, then powered down. Lighting was installed to illuminate the corridors. Small pockets of dim illumination guided the protheans in their work. Occupied rooms became mobile labs and resting areas.
One live feed showed a prothean arguing with another. Translators roughly spit out the reason why – the scientist wanted more Three-Legs, the soldier refused to lose more bodies. Neither gave ground.
“Frugal accounting or limited numbers?” Fabron asked Nihlus.
“Captain Renon says they have ten ships in orbit.” Nihlus answered.
“We have six ships.” Liara spoke up. “Two council provided ships, the Normandy, and Captain Renon’s Armada.”
Yemma’s expression lifted. “Captain Renon’s armada is adequately equipped to stall them, but we don’t have the appropriate numbers to go head-to-head.”
He always wondered at their calmness. He understood the preparedness. They survived the Protheans and bonded in the aftermath. They were literally the product of war. The calmness stemmed elsewhere. This woman could intimidate a room full of politicians, and she chose to stay in the backwoods of a small colony? Why?
“Are they spread out or clustered?” He asked Mayor Truckle.
“Spread out except for two at the north pole.” She answered. “We think there’s a structure there that is beneath the ice.”
Just another mystery surrounding Honus. If Honus continued to drop mystery on Liara’s peripheral, she might never want to leave. She might want to study every building, every road, every statue…
Who was he misleading? That was the Liara he fell in love with.
He frowned. “We need to know why there are two at the north.” He announced.
Liara sighed and reached for the ship-to-surface communicator.
“No. We’ll have one of ours.” Fabron pulled it away from her. “We hide better than you do. We knew your warship was in orbit while you were cloaked, and you were not aware we were.”
Nihlus chilled.
“How?” Liara asked carefully.
“Superior technology.” He answered flatly, as if it was the obvious answer.
Nihlus breathed deeply. Annoyance bit at his ego, and he added ‘upgrades’ to the list of to-dos – right after promising Liara a week on Honus for research.
“We’ll handle that.” Yemma reaffirmed business-like.
They returned their attention to a different camera. Two soldiers bunked in one of the former rooms. Liara zeroed on their possessions, her face twisted into open wanting.
“Should have installed cameras that move.” She lamented.
Everyone turned to give her a long, irritated glance.
She gestured at the screen. “Prime opportunity to study them. I spent my youth studying their ruins, and we have living protheans. Do you know how much this would advance our knowledge of their culture?”
Nihlus cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you, and you should have noticed before now. You gave her two bodies to dissect, and she was giddy about it.” He pointed at Fabron.
“I want those. I need to study them. Take samples. For study.” Liara enthused.
They returned to flicking through the livestreaming footage, Nihlus and Liara trading longing glances. The little boy in Nihlus woke up, ready to play with the cute girl next door, and the only reason he couldn’t was because his parents needed him to do something more important. The adult Nihlus scolded himself for letting himself be distracted. Bad Spectre, bad. By the goddess, if she didn’t look the image of perfection with that knowing smile and mischievous glint in her eye.
xxx
“This is not as exciting as I thought it would be.” Tisaen complained to Sila.
Sila’s faceplate cleared enough for Tisaen to see narrowed eyes and pure hatred.
Joslyn gave ear scratches and smoothed her hand along their escort’s fur. She ignored her friends – or was it friend since Sila wanted nothing to do with her? If everything was about her and she couldn’t help it, maybe it was better if she gave Sila the space Sila wanted. No need to ruin the relationship over a spat of jealousy.
“I vote we infiltrate.” Tisaen volunteered.
“That’s suicidal. Let’s not.” Joslyn commented.
“We can’t sit here and do nothing. We do. That’s who we are.” He protested violently.
The Three-Leg stared hard at him as if he lost his mind before dropping his head back onto Joslyn’s lap.
“We’re not infiltrating their base of operations.” Sila shut him down. “I’m not losing you because you want to be bullish.”
“I am not.” He argued weakly.
She waited out Tisaen, hoping Sila’s slip up opened his eyes. Maybe he already knew, maybe he didn’t. Everyone who saw them together sensed the yearning. If it were a pool, it would be bottomless. At the end of the day, they were a team, and teams needed to be smarter the smaller they were.
“I am not.” He repeated, tone softened.
Joslyn looked over her shoulder at the pair, taken back by the softness of the moment. Tisaen and Sila gazed upon each other, all tension gone. And then she breathed, and the moment passed. Tisaen cleared his throat awkwardly. Sila busied with the camera footage.
“We can’t sit here and do nothing.” He spoke.
She chewed on his words, the call to action hot in her blood. The call to action was humbled by the sense of self-preservation that kept her alive. There were times for bravery and times for safe distances. This was a safe distancing moment.
“I know what we can do.” She announced. “We can steal a shuttle.”
Before Sila could protest, Tisaen was on the move.
“We need a shuttle.” Joslyn stated blandly. “And it’s easier if we take one that’s conveniently close. You know how to disarm auto-recall devices. We know he can fly one.”
“What’s your plan?” Sila demanded suspiciously.
Joslyn considered her rifle, then their new friend. “I don’t have one, but the more trouble we cause them, the less they can cohesively enact a plan against us. You can’t enact a proper plan if all your resources aren’t available. They’re on our front step, Sila. We can’t let them breathe. They breathe; we die.”
“We steal the shuttle. Then what?” Sila allowed.
“We make them pay for landing.” Joslyn answered quietly. “Body by body.”
Sila sighed heavily and began the process of packing up their encampment. Joslyn joined her. They were going to steal that shuttle, and they were going to make them pay.
“I’m sorry.” Sila said as they waited for Tisaen to ambush the pilot.
It would be minutes now. According to his patrolling pattern, the pilot enjoyed a leisurely stroll. He’d return to the shuttle, unlock it, and then return to wherever he went.
Joslyn held out a fist between them.
She laid her fist on top.
“I understand, you know.” Joslyn whispered. “Trying to be someone but always living in a shadow. People look at you as if you’re not able to measure up to whatever invisible standard they put in place. Preemptively deciding you’re beneath them although they have no right to be your judge, jury, and executioner. But it’s a power trip for them, and they ride it all.”
“What if we don’t stop them?” she asked in a small voice.
“We will. It’s not a choice.” Joslyn answered solemnly.
We are the front line for the galaxy, Joslyn thought grimly.
Joslyn pulled on her helmet and turned to the team channel. “Reporting for duty. How’s it looking, Vaar?” She demanded.
“They have this biometrically coded.” He replied.
“Can you crack it?” Sila asked, concerned.
“Yes, but we’re going to need him alive.”
“Ready to be boarded?”
“I want to take off in five.” He ordered them.
They started for the shuttle, surprised when the Three-Leg followed them.
xxx
The last time he sat in the pilot’s seat was too long ago.
Unfortunately, to unlock the power, it needed a sample of blood. The pilot’s opened the controls to him.
A shuttle, the enemy’s shuttle. All theirs.