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Chances are that no matter who Shepard reccomended had opposition.NuclearBuddha wrote...
I don't know. It's been a while. But how could that possibly work? The Council could just pick any random retard. It's got to be the member race who puts forward the candidate for acceptance.Dark_Helmet wrote...
Is it the Alliance who picks the Human Councilor?
I had thought they elected their own members.
Azint wrote...
Wouldn't you like to see that? Anderson and Velarn taking a stroll with Udina on a leash. They go into a restaurant to eat, and they tie Udina outside, so they can discuss politics in peace.
Guest_Runescapeguy9_*
http://browse.devian...q=Tali#/d2sf9kdKira Shepard wrote...
oh and azint. drowning doom tali?
Modifié par Runescapeguy9, 23 juin 2010 - 07:47 .
*imagines the scene*cannedcream wrote...
Azint wrote...
Wouldn't you like to see that? Anderson and Velarn taking a stroll with Udina on a leash. They go into a restaurant to eat, and they tie Udina outside, so they can discuss politics in peace.
He'd just be begging for table scraps the entire time, anyway.
Dark_Helmet wrote...
Chances are that no matter who Shepard reccomended had opposition.
Udina and Anderson are both competent.
Neither is a "random retard"
THAT'S AWESOME!Runescapeguy9 wrote...
http://browse.devian...q=Tali#/d2sf9kdKira Shepard wrote...
oh and azint. drowning doom tali?
Guest_Runescapeguy9_*
Better than anything I can do, so I won't judge.Kira Shepard wrote...
THAT'S AWESOME!Runescapeguy9 wrote...
http://browse.devian...q=Tali#/d2sf9kdKira Shepard wrote...
oh and azint. drowning doom tali?
NuclearBuddha wrote...
I wake not long after the storm. The shuttle is quiet, has been for a while now. There's no argument or recrimination. They probably think I’m not going to live, so there’s no point. It’s a reasonable guess. I turn off my speaker so they don’t have to listen to my coughing.RiptideX1090 wrote...
NuclearBuddha wrote...
“Tali!” I finally look up at Prazza, my finger already on the button. My wrist burns as I unleash the hacked guns. “Those solutions are all wrong!”
I turn back to the console in horror. The equations swim in front of my eyes, every detail mocking me. Was my error here? There? My suit feels unbearably hot. I’m dizzy. Squinting, I force everything into focus. No. No… the solutions are correct. Prazza’s the one making panicky mistakes. And it’s too late anyway.
Two of the hacked ships fail to fire. Another shreds itself, ancient systems coming apart under the load. Three more take so long to charge that the firing solution is completely useless. The rest, well, they work fine. Turian engineering: I hate to admit my respect.
The first two hits flash into vapor on Viatrix’s barriers. The third blows an enormous cloud of spall from the hull, showing the shields are down already. Kinetic barriers have come a long way, apparently. Number four hits the exact same spot as the previous, followed by numbers five and six. Those two exit the other side. A waste of accuracy. We’re close enough to detect individual cooling bodies blowing out of the breaches.
The next three are grouped tight on the stern for some reason, knocking the ship on its axis. Stunningly, no breach. Damn, but they armored up back then. The next two probably would have blown the stern wide open, but they’re just glancing blows as the hulk rotates. Either way, it’s not going anywhere now.
The next clips the vessel’s chin, tearing a compartment off wholesale, and the last two drill it in the front quarter, going in deep at an angle. The Viatrix lists, bleeding vapor, and someone behind me gives a triumphant shout.
“Too little, quarians,” the Primarch’s voice caresses the word like an unwanted lover. Alarms blare in the background on his channel, and I think I can hear a fire burning, but the hulk is still coming on like a bad dream. “And now I see you.”
“They’re spooling up for another shot!” Bru cries.
“Evasive maneuvers,” I order, too aghast to shout, trying to start an all-new hack. There’s never going to be enough time.
The Viatrix is what saves us. By luck, we happen to be in its shade. One of the slugs, maybe number five or six, it doesn’t matter, kept on going. It must have hit the refueling station.
Capacitors there, holding all the static charge of a hundred ships for who knows how long, blow. Ancient safeguards and grounds fail disastrously, arcing electricity over huge reserves of eezo, touching it all off in an instant. Every ship in the fleet is backlit for a split second by white lightning, casting black bars of shadow into space as a hellstorm of unstable gravity fields ripples outward from the cataclysm.
The world is a blur of light. I think I'm shouting, but if I am, I can't hear my own voice. The windows burn with flames as ships slam into one another, as fuel lines are warped and disintegrated, as half of Nero's fleet goes up in flames, a gravimetric hurricane tearing it apart. We're pulled into the vortex, our small ship a child's toy caught in a monsoon.
Glancing at my instruments, I can tell that the mass effect fields are messing with our readings, but it doesn't really register to me. How could I have gotten the calculations wrong? Did I forget to set the targeting auto-calibration? Maybe I forgot to take down the automatic killswitch VI protocol. That can't be it. Prazza is screaming at me. I know I ran the targeting diagnostics, that wasn't the problem. Prazza is inches from me, shouting into my visor. If I failed to compensate for the forwar-
"Tali!" Prazza is shaking me. Why can't he leave me alone? It was so quiet a second ago. My skin feels like it's on fire again.
The world slides back into focus, and I can see half a dozen veiled glares staring into my mask.
Keelah...
"Raise rear shields, all remaining power to thrusters! Set positive Y-axis spacial distortion field to maximum density, set computer to auto-correct for spacial anomalies, lock down navi-" My orders are cut off as our small ship slides across an ancient crusier, tossing my unsecured form about the room like a ragdoll as the ship's a-grav module fails. My back collides with the ceiling with enough force to wreck a Mako.
Ouch.
The rest of the crew fortunate enough to have strapped down work frantically to pull the ship out of the vortex. As the ship levels out and I manage to grab hold of an a-grav handle to steady myself, I suddenly feel very small compared to the supernatural forces tearing the turian fleet, and our ship, apart.
Explosions rock the deck as systems overload under the strain, surge protectors too old to be of any use short out, sending sparks and shrapnel flying everywhere. I look to check for damage. My heart sinks at the sight of Moro's form resting in the pilot's seat, her visor smoking and cracked by a catastrophic system discharge.
There is no time left. Breaking through our own firewalls, I hack into the ship's control suite with my omni-tool. Easy. My fingers work frantically, the small displays no subtitute for a full interface. More explosions send my free-floating form crashing into walls and panels. My mind is blank. I'm not even thinking about the displays hovering over my hand, my hands just move, a lifetime as a quarian having hotwired my nerves with the correct patterns to manually steer the craft through the debris. I focus on staying awake, despite the aches and brutal pain coursing through my bones as I'm thrown from one end of the room to another.
Story of my life.
I can finally see open stars on my display. no more debris. The ship has stopped shaking. I think that means we're clear. I don't know. Everything is surreal, like I'm watchiing a movie with my eyes closed. At last, the fever takes me, and I fall back into darkness.
Shepard.
Moro doesn’t last an hour after the explosion. Someone notices her life signs are flat while we're trying to get our transmitter working. Prazza just shakes his head and shrugs when the rest of them look to him to say something for her. Her omnitool makes a good secondary processor, a part we need. The pilot, a ten-year veteran, died of shock earlier. Both his shins had been sheared by a bad ripple of gravity.
We're finally considering trying to scavenge what scrap we can to get a thruster operational when the Noveria Development Corporation shows up. The corporate freighter is suspiciously up-armored and has an Elanus Risk Control escort. Even so, they’d have had a rude surprise if the Primarch had been here instead of us. What they did get is probably a rude surprise anyway.
At least they're not above helping stranded quarians out. The Parasini woman greets us after the security team checks us over. She still only knows me as the quarian who put in the medical alert those long weeks ago. It's clear she's trying to talk to me about what happened, but I keep fading in and out, and she keeps being interrupted by her aides. They're getting NDC's salvage rights to the wreckage established.
Someone, maybe Prazza, protests. It gets him a lecture on the drawbacks of not being a Citadel race. The ERC goons have to draw their guns before he calms down. I feel like I should stop him but... I'm just too tired. Too tired even to keep my eyes open. Certainly too tired to worry about going home empty-handed.
Is this what Shepard would have done? Maybe. But he didn't have a father to answer to. He'd had have stopped the Primarch's little war and to hell with anyone who wanted more. I hope he'd be proud of me. Slipping further away, for a minute I don't care what daddy's going to think. I just want to tell mom all about the human I met on pilgrimage. When I see her.
Modifié par RiptideX1090, 23 juin 2010 - 07:53 .
RedTracer7 wrote...
I have to say, EH looks damn good in that picture. Much better than his later Cuban-fisher-hunter pics.
What ever happened to suave?
*Anderson's thought process/Udina's thought process*cannedcream wrote...
Dark_Helmet wrote...
Chances are that no matter who Shepard reccomended had opposition.
Udina and Anderson are both competent.
Neither is a "random retard"
I dunno. I sometimes question Udina's motives and logic.
Not saying he's always wrong, just that. . . I'd like to see the thought process.
It's incomplete.Kira Shepard wrote...
THAT'S AWESOME!Runescapeguy9 wrote...
http://browse.devian...q=Tali#/d2sf9kdKira Shepard wrote...
oh and azint. drowning doom tali?
Excellent disertation comrade.NuclearBuddha wrote...
HOT DAMN!
Modifié par khevan, 23 juin 2010 - 07:56 .
Yes.Azint wrote...
R. Lee Ermey to play quarian drill Sergeant.
Azint wrote...
R. Lee Ermey to play quarian drill Sergeant.
Impressive....RiptideX1090 wrote...
Sans several spelling errors, I'm rather happy with that one.
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