Hey folks. I'm a big fan of Mass Effect, and started writing this today. I've got a pretty clear idea of how to wrap it up, but I'm itching to hear what people think of it, so thought I'd post this first half now. I hope you all enjoy.
WARNING: Violence, gore, [very] strong language.
Mass Effect: Rebirth
My first day on the Vulture, I was mopping the crew deck when I noticed an engraving of a bird at the back of the rec room. Dahrot, the second in command, walked by as I examined the engraving.
“The hell are you looking at?” He growled, taking a long drink from a bottle of Turian horosk. It made his breath reek, the tangy, alcoholic smell washing over me when he spoke. Dahrot swayed a little, struggling to focus all four of his eyes on me as I replied.
“The bird,” I said, gesturing to the image. “Is that a vulture? I’ve never actually seen one.” Dahrot snorted with laughter.
“That’s a phoenix, you damned fool. What rock have you been living under?” I frowned.
“I’m from Proteus.” Dahrot’s look was blank. “Aretmis Tau. Athens system.” Still blank. I sighed. “It’s all water, man. All we had were fish.”
“You had extranet, didn’t you?” He snorted again, and spat onto my mop. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “It’s a phoenix,” he repeated. “It’s a symbol of fuckin’ resurrection or something. Cap’n liked it enough to stamp it on our ship. That’s all I know.” He left, stumbling slightly as he tried to drink and walk at the same time.
I went back to mopping, putting the phoenix out of my mind until later that day, when I went planetside with the crew. There I was put through my first test as a new recruit with Captain Goran’s Wraiths: the execution of a Volus merchant that had tried skimming off the top of the profits he was paying Goran.
They handed me a pistol and I put a round through the Volus’ mask. The recoil nearly broke my arm, and the dead alien’s helmet squealed as it depressurized. The air from inside stank of ammonia. I staggered back to the rest of the crew, who all clapped me on the back as I passed. I kept thinking about the phoenix then, telling myself that I was making a new me. Reconstructing myself--resurrecting myself. No matter the cost.
Later that night, after the rest of the crew had gone to sleep, I collapsed in the washroom and puked my guts out until I was exhausted enough to sleep.
FOUR YEARS LATER.
A sudden shaking woke me up. Vasra, my Salarian bunkmate with one eye, was already pulling on his combat gear.
“The ****’s happening?” I mumbled, sitting up groggily. He turned to me sternly, locking armor plates in place and picking up his rifle.
“Somebody’s shooting at us,” he said simply. He checked his weapon, loaded a heat sink, and slung it over his shoulder. “Meet you up top.” He left as I pulled myself out of bed.
The ship rocked again, knocking me into my gear locker. I swore and opened it up, pulling out my Elkoss hardsuit and slipping into it. I grabbed my helmet and my shotgun and ran to the elevator.
The Kovach brothers, twins from Earth, were already there. They glared at me and slipped their helmets on. They’d painted skulls over their visors; with their matching white and black armor, the two men looked more like Wraiths than anybody else on Goran’s crew.
On the flight deck, we joined Vasra, Dahrot, and Fenyu. I liked Fenyu. She was the best pilot I’d ever met. And despite all the times I’d been told the Drell were a serious, deeply spiritual species, Fenyu was remarkably cavalier. I’d asked her what she believed in once; all she said was, “I believe in money. And if the Gods lived in this galaxy, I bet they would too.” And I didn’t argue.
“Where the **** is Goran?” She yelled when I approached. Dahrot gripped the back of her seat as she dipped the Vulture suddenly, making us all stumble.
“He’ll be here, lady. Just avoid those guns.” There was a flash of light and a disrupter torpedo streaked past the cockpit, detonating just across the bow. “****!” Dahrot shouted. The Vulture’s shields flickered.
“We’re being hailed,” Fenyu said.
“Answer them,” rumbled a low, angry voice from behind us. I turned to watch Goran, wearing a navy blue hardsuit, stomp across the deck to Fenyu.
“Yes sir,” she said, and hit a panel in front of her. There was a patronizingly optimistic beep sound, and an Asari voice fizzled through the comm.
“This is Captain Ageria T’Gani of the Matterhorn. Lower your shields and allow us to board.”
Dahrot hissed. “Eclipse.” Goran waved him off with one burly arm.
“This is Captain Goran Wreng. What the **** do you want?” There was only static for a moment. Then:
“Whatever you’ve got,” the Asari replied dryly. “Cooperate with us, and we’ll take what we need and go. Put up a fight, and we will blow your pathetic ship into dust.” She paused. “You’re really in no position to negotiate.”
Fenyu turned to the Captain. “What do you want to do, sir?” Goran pursed his long, Krogan lips and turned to Dahrot.
“How many thruster packs do we have?”
“Four.”
“Good.” He turned to the rest of us now, casting his beady eyes around the room, sizing us up. “Vasra. Sharpe. You’re coming with Dahrot and me onto that ship.” Vasra and I exchanged glances.
“Yes, sir,” we replied. I felt a cold sweat coming on. Fenyu looked at me worriedly, but contained it as Goran turned back to her.
“You. Stall them. When we jettison out the back of the cargo bay, you’re going to pull the fanciest bit of flying you’ve ever done until we’ve ripped the intestines out of every Asari ****** on board that thing. Understand?”
Fenyu nodded. “Eject. Fly. Intestines. I get the picture.”
“Good.” Goran turned to us. “Let’s go.”
The thruster pack was an old, clunky getup that barely fit over my armor, but I managed to strap myself into it securely and link it to my omni-tool. Vasra turned to me as Goran and Dahrot checked each other’s packs. “Check me,” the Salarian said. I patted down his pack, tightened some clamps, and nodded.
“Now me.” I turned and he checked me over.
“You’re good.” We walked over to the Captain, who was checking his weapons. Dahrot looked us over.
“Ready?” Vasra and I nodded. “Good,” Dahrot said, and sneered. “This will be fun.” Goran laughed. It sounded like an earthquake.
“Helmets on, kids,” he said to us, and we complied, sealing our suits for the walk ahead of us.
Spacewalks were never easy. The amount of suit material between my vulnerable, fleshy human form and the endless vacuum of space was never enough for me. Spacewalks made me remember my mortality.
We walked to the airlock and sealed ourselves in. Goran patched Fenyu into our comms. “Fen, we’re about to eject. You ready?”
“Thank God,” she replied. “The blue lady’s getting pissed. They’re prepping boarding craft.”
“Alright. Here goes.” Goran cut the connection, slammed an immense fist into the door controls, and we were sucked violently into space.
I gasped in a brief fit of terror as I tumbled uncontrollably through the vacuum. The worst part of it was the quiet; the only sound was my hyperventilating and my heartbeat.
Then I remembered the thruster pack, and lit up my omni-tool. The pack roared to life, and I righted myself.
The four of us drifted over the top of the Eclipse frigate. There was a large maintenance hatch near the back of the ship, its yellow and black locking mechanism jutting out against the blinding light of the frigate’s engines. Judging by Goran’s movements, he was aiming for that hatch.
I gunned the thruster pack and followed him, Vasra floating down alongside me. He saluted tersely and I grinned.
Looking around, I saw we were actually floating above a planet. It looked like some kind of garden world, all greens and browns and oranges. Angry black clouds bubbled close to its equator, rippling with lightning.
“Sharpe, bring that omni-tool of yours over here,” Dahrot barked through the comm as we neared the hatch. I drifted over, bringing up my hacking toolset and probing the hatch.
“Level two encryption,” I stated, hitting a few buttons on the holographic orange interface. “This won’t take long.”
The ship burst to life suddenly, the engines flaring up. Behind us, the Vulture had started evasive maneuvers; the Matterhorn’s guns flashed, twin mass accelerator cannons mounted on either side of the cockpit unloading in the direction of Goran’s ship.
“Mag-cables!” He yelled. I grabbed the grappling cable gun off the belt of the thruster pack and shot it into the Eclipse ship before it got away. Three other cables followed, and we reeled ourselves back to the hull of the frigate. “Get the hatch open, Sharpe!” Goran said.
I tapped my omni tool again, finishing the hacking process, and the hatch popped open, pressurized air shooting into the void. We threw ourselves inside, disconnecting the mag cables, and pulled the hatch back down, sealing the airlock.
HISS. My ears popped and I fell to the floor as the artificial gravity came on. Goran was the only one to land on his feet, with a colossal thump; the rest of us had to drag ourselves back up.
Panting, I drew my shotgun and primed it. The rest did the same with their weapons, standing ready at the door. A panel next to it blinked yellow. Once; twice; then it blinked green. Dahrot hit it and the door opened, and gunfire erupted from the narrow corridor beyond.
Goran was first out, roaring. In his hands was a shotgun I’d thought a myth before becoming part of his crew: a Krogan Claymore. It sounded like thunder when it went off. When I heard the first thunderclap, I darted out of the airlock and slid behind the first piece of cover I saw: a pile of crates.
Shots glanced off the edges of the crates, leaving smoking craters everywhere they hit. Popping out from the other side of the stack, I pulled my gun up level with the first yellow-suited Eclipse soldier I saw, and fired. The scattershot sent his body flying back into a wall, blood splattering one of the other soldiers. I ducked back behind the crates before they could retaliate.
Across the room, Dahrot and Vasra were on crowd control with their rifles. Tracers screamed through the tiny room like a storm of neon raindrops, tearing through every bit of flesh and armor they came across.
When there was a break in the fire, I peeked out from behind the safety of my crates in time to see Goran chasing down the last surviving Eclipse soldier, cackling. Before the Asari could escape, Goran was on top of her, pinning the alien woman face-down on the floor. He pressed a boot into her spine, wrapping his hands around one slim arm and pulling.
The Asari screamed, long and high and loud enough that, I felt, it transcended a mortal scream--this, I thought, was a scream that her family would feel, in their bones and in their hearts. It was a scream her ancestors would hear every time they saw a Krogan. It was a scream that transcended time.
There was a horrible, wet cracking and crunching sound as the Asari’s spine broke, and not long after that her arm came off completely. Goran, his helmet covered in the Asari’s blood, held the arm up happily in triumph. He walked to Dahrot, tossing it to him. They bumped heads.
Vasra, desensitized to all of this, stood to the side quietly and checked his heat sinks. I, however, was not desensitized, and when I saw the Asari was still alive, convulsing on the floor where Goran had left her, walked over to her and put a round through her head. She lay still.
“Something wrong, Sharpe?” Goran was behind me suddenly, and uncomfortably close.
“Just finishing her off,” I said. Goran stared at me for a long moment. It was profoundly unnerving, especially considering I couldn’t see his eyes through the helmet. Eventually he stopped, leading the way down the corridor.
“Let’s find that Captain,” Goran said.
The elevator bank was guarded by two terrified human Eclipse with pistols. They looked like deckhands that had been given whatever weapons were left over after the soldiers had taken their pick. That didn’t stop Dahrot from drawing a long, serrated Batarian knife and throwing it through one of their necks, and Goran crushing the other one’s skull with one hand. When Dahrot retrieved his knife, he wiped it mockingly against his victim’s cheek.
We took the elevator up to the flight deck. I had a cold, nauseating lump in my throat, but swallowed it down and steeled myself.
When the doors slid open, there was a flash of blue and we were thrown into the ceiling. A glimmering, undulating singularity pulsed below us.
“Kill them while they’re pinned!” Yelled a furious voice from somewhere in the room. I heard weapons being cocked.
I gunned my thruster pack, jettisoning myself out of the range of the miniature black hole. I crashed into a control panel somewhere on the other side of the deck as the shots rang out.
Ageria T’Gani wore a bulky, ornate suit of orange and white armor as she fired a Carnifex into Goran’s form, still stuck on the ceiling. He was yelling in anger as the shots began to tear through his shields. The other two soldiers on the deck were going after Vasra and Dahrot, respectively. Dahrot had had the same idea as me, and had blasted himself into a corner, where he struggled to get out of a sparking thruster pack.
I wrenched at the clasps of mine as Ageria T’Gani turned sharply to see me crumpled against the control panel. A serpentine smile crept across her scarred mouth as she started walking towards me, holding a biotically charged fist up.
“****,” I muttered, struggling to get my shotgun out. It was pinned between my leg and the panels. “****, ****, ****, ****…”
With a mellow whoomph the singularity died, and Goran and Vasra tumbled to the floor. Vasra, bloody, smoking holes torn through one of his shoulders, was snarling and lurching towards one of the Eclipse soldiers within moments. Goran was raising his Claymore from his spot on the ground.
Ageria, distracted, turned away from me and reloaded her hand-cannon. I focused on freeing myself enough to help, watching as Goran aimed his Claymore at the Eclipse soldiers.
“****** Eclipse,” he spat, and fired. Thunder clapped, and the shot tore apart one of the soldiers--and Vasra.
I freed my arm, the cold lump rising in my throat again when I saw the remains of Vasra’s body scatter across the floor. There was blood everywhere.
“Crap,” Goran said, apathetically. Dahrot, having freed himself, ran to Goran to help him up, and was thrown away by Ageria, her biotics flipping the Batarian head over heels.
“You bloody scavs,” she seethed, approaching the Krogan. I finally ripped my shotgun free from under me and tumbled forward, panting. I stepped towards the Asari as she raised her hand cannon at Goran. “Exterminating scum like you is the only reason I ever joined the Eclipse.”
Goran looked at me, my shotgun ready in my hands. Dahrot looked at me expectantly as he pulled himself off the ground. I stared at Goran, and simply watched as Ageria emptied her pistol into the Krogan’s skull.
Goran gurgled and went limp. When Ageria turned to attack me, I snapped the muzzle of my gun up and put a shot through her abdomen. The Asari shouted in pain and crumpled to the ground.
Quiet. Dahrot limped over to Goran’s body. “What the ****,” he said, and spun around to look at me. “You piece of ****, you could have ****** saved him!” He moved up to me, one hand wrapped around his knife, waiting for me to reply. I just looked at him.
Just when I thought he was going to stab me, something beeped on the floor next to us. We looked over; Ageria, at death’s door, was using her omni-tool.
“Detonate fuel reserves,” she said spoke into the tool, hoarsely. Dahrot and I looked back at each other.
BOOM. Air hissed violently and alarms started going off. “Escape pods,” Dahrot said, and pushed me towards the elevator, which was, miraculously, still operational.
My comm chirped. “What the hell was that?” Fenyu asked. The elevator creaked and groaned as it slid down to the lower levels of the combusting frigate.
“Asari **** detonated the extra fuel,” Dahrot said, sounding more like some kind of zombie than a living thing at that moment, ridded of any empathy he may have ever possessed. I realized I was probably responsible for that, but, upon thinking about it, didn’t care. “We’re getting onto escape pods and jettisoning towards that planet,” Dahrot said.
“Speaking of,” I piped up. “What are we in for down there?”
“It’s pretty humid,” Fenyu said. “The planet’s Invictus. There’s a Turian colony down there. Aim for that if you can.”
“No. We’ll aim away from those steely-headed freaks, and you’ll come pick us up. You hear me?” Dahrot ordered. We stalked the burning corridors of the cargo deck, flinching every time there was an explosion or a crash, but made it to the escape pods unscathed.
“I hear you,” Fenyu replied. “Goran isn’t responding to his comm. Is his helmet damaged or something?”
“He’s dead,” Dahrot said curtly. Static.
“What the **** happened?” Fenyu sounded scared.
“Vasra is dead too,” I said quickly, watching as Dahrot got into escape pod. He didn’t look back at me as he sealed himself into one. “But it’ll be okay. Just… Come find us down there, alright?” I swallowed. I suddenly felt like crying. Or screaming. Or both.
My omni-tool blinked, a private comm link coming in, and I answered. It was Fenyu, using an encrypted channel to speak to me directly. “You okay, Sharpe?”
“I don’t know,” I said, getting into my escape pod. It was cramped; claustrophobic. I strapped in and sealed the pod. “I’ll tell you over a drink when all this is over.”
“I’ll hold you to that, handsome.”
I hit the launch button, and jerked backwards as the pod screamed out through space, towards the titanic green orb below the burning ship.
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