Ellis considered speaking up while Vella was reprimanded, and even had the words ready. I went willingly, sir. I regret the damage but not the event. But he didn't. And he chided himself for it incessantly.
Look at you. You coward. Thought you could be her friend. Thought you could be something more. And here you sit, like a child, watching your 'friend' scolded for your mistakes. You were the cause of most of the damage. You realize that, don't you? You do. You must-
Shut up. Just stop. Please.
PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE? Look at you. Still the same sniveling child, crying over lost limbs in a glass box. Look at you. You're still the same. You never changed. You never will-
STOP! STOP! NO MORE!
AND WHAT WILL YOU DO IF WE DON'T?
SILENCE!
The voices had nothing more to say. The damage was done. Ellis was uncertain of whether his demons' silence was due to his own assertiveness or the sudden distraction of the opening docking-bay doors. He watched aliens loading crates onto a small, nondescript ship, their long fingers gripping the heavy boxes delicately, yet clearly firmly, working in unspoken unity. As they continued, Partinax stopped. Before the door stood six figures, in full Alliance battle gear, weapons drawn, behind a woman who was clearly their leader. They bore the N7 uniform. Ellis' first instinct was to whip the Mattock from his back and start firing. He reminded himself that these were his allies now, despite how things may appear.
Just do it. No one looks happy to see them here.
Shut up.
You're like a damaged audio log. 'Shut up, shut up', have you anything else to say?
Ellis did not respond. He was quickly discovering how well silence worked against the voices. Katabasis paused, while Partinax and Anderson approached the troops. NERO identified the leading woman as an Admiral, marked by an orange "ADM-N7" in Ellis' AR screen. She wore a Phalanx pistol, an unusual armament for Alliance troops, especially considering its Cerberus origins. He made note of this, as well as the tense posture of his direct superiors. Partinax stared her down with impunity. The Turian spoke first.
"Admiral Zander, I wasn't expecting to see you here, especially considering that this docking bay is restricted to Spectres and their support personnel. " She responded,
"It's nice to see you too Partinax. I know, it's against the rules for us to be here, but since when have you Spectres ever cared about rules?" Despite the denotation of their words, Ellis sensed great hostility between the two, and made a request of NERO. He whispered,
"NERO, mute me. Analyze their body language." NERO's voice came in slightly garbled and distorted, a product of damage to Ellis' suit.
"Both targets appear to be mildly to moderately agitated, operative." Ellis smirked.
"Tactical assessment?"
"Recommend immediate neutralization." He scoffed at that.
"Not an option."
"Recommend you remain passive, operative."
"Acknowledged." The pissing contest between the two continued, growing in tension with every retort. Ellis had to admit admiration for Partinax' strength of will, and even more so for his willingness to address a colleague with such force.
Suddenly, the Admiral stepped up, her soldiers reacting instantly, hands on their guns. Ellis acted instinctively, gripping the handle of his rifle, feeling the satisfying click-click-clack of his rifle extending. The matte black coating blended in beautifully with his armor, concealing it fairly well even from behind. He kept it behind his back, hidden from the new opponents, partly afraid to cause another problem, partly to conceal his intent. Then, the apparent Admiral said the magic words:
"I wonder how you'd feel if something happened to those children of yours?" In a split second, a sword sang as it sliced through the air to rest just above the woman's neck. Weapons were drawn. Ellis was ready, bringing his rifle to bear with his right hand, leveling it soundly at a soldier with a cybernetic arm, the only enemy he saw as even close to his equal. NERO, sensing combat approaching, began the overclock process. He would have glowed with a dark aura as his biotics fired up, if not for the suit concealing his body. A trained eye could have seen the signs, had they known where to look. His shell seemed to expand as the light around him warped ever so slightly.
Kill him. Kill him now.
Not yet.
KILL HIM NOW!
NOT YET!
The Admiral looked appalled, saying, "You fucking lunatic, you're willing to face a goddamn court over this? They'll strip your status!"
She could be talking to us.
She could be talking to me
Same thing.
It's not. It absolutely is not.
Anderson stepped forward, an arbiter in all respect. And, contrary to Ellis' expectations, the Admiral apologized. Part of him wished she hadn't, and another part scolded him for wishing that, recognizing the extreme loss of life and opportunity this would have presented. Partinax pushed aside the woman, and Ellis followed closely, reholstering his rifle. He gave a silent middle finger with his white hand as he stomped up the ramp into an enormous ship's airlock.
The ship was large, shiny, and clearly new. She was elegant, a queen among serfs, and with the Turian decoration and black and white paint job, she could have been anything from a warship to a stealth bomber. The door scanned Partinax' body briefly, before opening with a slight hiss. Ellis squeezed into the airlock, unknowingly pressing some of his squadmates into the walls. The room was small, unbearably so, and Ellis' body took up an awful lot of space. Decontamination protocol began, and after thirty to forty-five seconds that felt like thirty to forty-five years, the interior door slid open, revealing a beautiful network of innards, all glowing lights, and shiny panels and even here and there, accents of real Earth wood. He followed closely behind, as his commanding Spectre led the team to the helm. The next hour was a blur of faces and names, of which Ellis remembered few, save a Dr. Tenno Kala, who seemed thrilled at the prospect of getting his long fingers into Ellis' carapace, even going so far as to give him a long, deep scan, complimenting the technology. Though he referred to Ellis as 'unwieldy' and 'an eyesore', Ellis felt appreciated. He made a mental note to put together a list of request and calibrations and even modifications to his body.
The second person he actually paid attention to was an asari, older than Vella, but with the same piercing stare, as though she saw something in you that you yourself could not. She glared at Ellis, implying that his and Vella's recent shore leave was an inconvenience of the highest sort. Thankfully, Partinax led them away quickly.
Another Asari stood out in Ellis' mind, one Konare T'Pavi, a psychologist.
She's gonna have a field day with you.
You mean 'us'.
OHO! SO IT'S 'US' NOW?
Ellis fought the urge to argue back, reminding himself that it was of no use. He was glad no one could see his duress. Partinax turned to look at him, seemingly, to look him right in the eye, when he said, "If you ever need any personal or spiritual consultation, she's who you will see. You have mandatory weekly sessions Ellis." Ellis nodded, then remembered that Partinax couldn't see him.
"NERO, external audio up sixteen percent. Yes sir. I understand." He felt like a child who had just been introduced to a Catholic cathedral for the first time, the same sense of wonder and confusion and even subconscious horror at realizing what he'd gotten into. The Asari smiled when she spoke. It was a genuine smile, the sort of smile that comes from having a clean soul.
"No matter what may come up, if you want to talk about it, I will be happy to listen. And everything is completely confidential of course."
Ellis bowed as best he could, as his top-heavy body would not allow him to bend far without falling over. "Thank you, ma'am."
She's gonna do a number on you sick fuckers.
Us? You're the sick one. Who was it that felt the need to talk to himself as soon as he heard the word "psychologist"?
Ah, shut up. I'm tired of you.
AND WHAT IF WE DON'T WANT TO-
QUIET!
Partinax led them to an elevator. They squeezed inside, riding it all the way down into the cargo bay. Turians wrestled and lifted weights, one running on a weird inclined treadmill, as their leader led them to a strange big-headed Salarian with oddly amphibian hands, presumably, amphibian feet as well. Partinax introduced him as Relli Yonn, a procurement specialist. Ellis spoke, forgetting that everyone could hear him. "NERO, make a list. We need videlicet, old-fashioned amphetamine boosters, two new Talons, and- Uh, mute me. And a Carnifex. Maybe also a Falcon. Maybe not. Just make note. Dammit, I said the bad things first."
"Confirmed."
The rest of the tour was a blur to Ellis' already overwhelmed and still hungover brain. He made a mental note to request one of the storage spaces in the cargo bay as his private quarters, hoping that the armory could fashion some sort of maintenance dock for his suit. And he hoped, above all, that they could do it quickly. Despite it still being relatively early in the day, he was exhausted, and desired nothing more than to sleep, fearing that he would soon collapse from sheer information overload. "NERO, please tell me you were recording all of that for future reference."
"It has all been recorded for future reference."
"Really?"
"Negative, operative."
"You son of a bitch, NERO."
Partinax turned to address the team, after displaying an impressive AI, one that NERO would no doubt find kinship with. "That concludes this tour. If you ever want to speak, talk to Calixta and she'll inform me. If I have time you can drop by my quarters on the top deck. Besides that, you have free reign of the ship. Get settled in, this will be our home and our operating base for quite some time."
Ellis had only one question: "NERO, external audio volume up, twelve percent. Which one was Calixta again? And... If anyone needs me, I'll be in Storage."
Look at you. You coward. Thought you could be her friend. Thought you could be something more. And here you sit, like a child, watching your 'friend' scolded for your mistakes. You were the cause of most of the damage. You realize that, don't you? You do. You must-
Shut up. Just stop. Please.
PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE? Look at you. Still the same sniveling child, crying over lost limbs in a glass box. Look at you. You're still the same. You never changed. You never will-
STOP! STOP! NO MORE!
AND WHAT WILL YOU DO IF WE DON'T?
SILENCE!
The voices had nothing more to say. The damage was done. Ellis was uncertain of whether his demons' silence was due to his own assertiveness or the sudden distraction of the opening docking-bay doors. He watched aliens loading crates onto a small, nondescript ship, their long fingers gripping the heavy boxes delicately, yet clearly firmly, working in unspoken unity. As they continued, Partinax stopped. Before the door stood six figures, in full Alliance battle gear, weapons drawn, behind a woman who was clearly their leader. They bore the N7 uniform. Ellis' first instinct was to whip the Mattock from his back and start firing. He reminded himself that these were his allies now, despite how things may appear.
Just do it. No one looks happy to see them here.
Shut up.
You're like a damaged audio log. 'Shut up, shut up', have you anything else to say?
Ellis did not respond. He was quickly discovering how well silence worked against the voices. Katabasis paused, while Partinax and Anderson approached the troops. NERO identified the leading woman as an Admiral, marked by an orange "ADM-N7" in Ellis' AR screen. She wore a Phalanx pistol, an unusual armament for Alliance troops, especially considering its Cerberus origins. He made note of this, as well as the tense posture of his direct superiors. Partinax stared her down with impunity. The Turian spoke first.
"Admiral Zander, I wasn't expecting to see you here, especially considering that this docking bay is restricted to Spectres and their support personnel. " She responded,
"It's nice to see you too Partinax. I know, it's against the rules for us to be here, but since when have you Spectres ever cared about rules?" Despite the denotation of their words, Ellis sensed great hostility between the two, and made a request of NERO. He whispered,
"NERO, mute me. Analyze their body language." NERO's voice came in slightly garbled and distorted, a product of damage to Ellis' suit.
"Both targets appear to be mildly to moderately agitated, operative." Ellis smirked.
"Tactical assessment?"
"Recommend immediate neutralization." He scoffed at that.
"Not an option."
"Recommend you remain passive, operative."
"Acknowledged." The pissing contest between the two continued, growing in tension with every retort. Ellis had to admit admiration for Partinax' strength of will, and even more so for his willingness to address a colleague with such force.
Suddenly, the Admiral stepped up, her soldiers reacting instantly, hands on their guns. Ellis acted instinctively, gripping the handle of his rifle, feeling the satisfying click-click-clack of his rifle extending. The matte black coating blended in beautifully with his armor, concealing it fairly well even from behind. He kept it behind his back, hidden from the new opponents, partly afraid to cause another problem, partly to conceal his intent. Then, the apparent Admiral said the magic words:
"I wonder how you'd feel if something happened to those children of yours?" In a split second, a sword sang as it sliced through the air to rest just above the woman's neck. Weapons were drawn. Ellis was ready, bringing his rifle to bear with his right hand, leveling it soundly at a soldier with a cybernetic arm, the only enemy he saw as even close to his equal. NERO, sensing combat approaching, began the overclock process. He would have glowed with a dark aura as his biotics fired up, if not for the suit concealing his body. A trained eye could have seen the signs, had they known where to look. His shell seemed to expand as the light around him warped ever so slightly.
Kill him. Kill him now.
Not yet.
KILL HIM NOW!
NOT YET!
The Admiral looked appalled, saying, "You fucking lunatic, you're willing to face a goddamn court over this? They'll strip your status!"
She could be talking to us.
She could be talking to me
Same thing.
It's not. It absolutely is not.
Anderson stepped forward, an arbiter in all respect. And, contrary to Ellis' expectations, the Admiral apologized. Part of him wished she hadn't, and another part scolded him for wishing that, recognizing the extreme loss of life and opportunity this would have presented. Partinax pushed aside the woman, and Ellis followed closely, reholstering his rifle. He gave a silent middle finger with his white hand as he stomped up the ramp into an enormous ship's airlock.
The ship was large, shiny, and clearly new. She was elegant, a queen among serfs, and with the Turian decoration and black and white paint job, she could have been anything from a warship to a stealth bomber. The door scanned Partinax' body briefly, before opening with a slight hiss. Ellis squeezed into the airlock, unknowingly pressing some of his squadmates into the walls. The room was small, unbearably so, and Ellis' body took up an awful lot of space. Decontamination protocol began, and after thirty to forty-five seconds that felt like thirty to forty-five years, the interior door slid open, revealing a beautiful network of innards, all glowing lights, and shiny panels and even here and there, accents of real Earth wood. He followed closely behind, as his commanding Spectre led the team to the helm. The next hour was a blur of faces and names, of which Ellis remembered few, save a Dr. Tenno Kala, who seemed thrilled at the prospect of getting his long fingers into Ellis' carapace, even going so far as to give him a long, deep scan, complimenting the technology. Though he referred to Ellis as 'unwieldy' and 'an eyesore', Ellis felt appreciated. He made a mental note to put together a list of request and calibrations and even modifications to his body.
The second person he actually paid attention to was an asari, older than Vella, but with the same piercing stare, as though she saw something in you that you yourself could not. She glared at Ellis, implying that his and Vella's recent shore leave was an inconvenience of the highest sort. Thankfully, Partinax led them away quickly.
Another Asari stood out in Ellis' mind, one Konare T'Pavi, a psychologist.
She's gonna have a field day with you.
You mean 'us'.
OHO! SO IT'S 'US' NOW?
Ellis fought the urge to argue back, reminding himself that it was of no use. He was glad no one could see his duress. Partinax turned to look at him, seemingly, to look him right in the eye, when he said, "If you ever need any personal or spiritual consultation, she's who you will see. You have mandatory weekly sessions Ellis." Ellis nodded, then remembered that Partinax couldn't see him.
"NERO, external audio up sixteen percent. Yes sir. I understand." He felt like a child who had just been introduced to a Catholic cathedral for the first time, the same sense of wonder and confusion and even subconscious horror at realizing what he'd gotten into. The Asari smiled when she spoke. It was a genuine smile, the sort of smile that comes from having a clean soul.
"No matter what may come up, if you want to talk about it, I will be happy to listen. And everything is completely confidential of course."
Ellis bowed as best he could, as his top-heavy body would not allow him to bend far without falling over. "Thank you, ma'am."
She's gonna do a number on you sick fuckers.
Us? You're the sick one. Who was it that felt the need to talk to himself as soon as he heard the word "psychologist"?
Ah, shut up. I'm tired of you.
AND WHAT IF WE DON'T WANT TO-
QUIET!
Partinax led them to an elevator. They squeezed inside, riding it all the way down into the cargo bay. Turians wrestled and lifted weights, one running on a weird inclined treadmill, as their leader led them to a strange big-headed Salarian with oddly amphibian hands, presumably, amphibian feet as well. Partinax introduced him as Relli Yonn, a procurement specialist. Ellis spoke, forgetting that everyone could hear him. "NERO, make a list. We need videlicet, old-fashioned amphetamine boosters, two new Talons, and- Uh, mute me. And a Carnifex. Maybe also a Falcon. Maybe not. Just make note. Dammit, I said the bad things first."
"Confirmed."
The rest of the tour was a blur to Ellis' already overwhelmed and still hungover brain. He made a mental note to request one of the storage spaces in the cargo bay as his private quarters, hoping that the armory could fashion some sort of maintenance dock for his suit. And he hoped, above all, that they could do it quickly. Despite it still being relatively early in the day, he was exhausted, and desired nothing more than to sleep, fearing that he would soon collapse from sheer information overload. "NERO, please tell me you were recording all of that for future reference."
"It has all been recorded for future reference."
"Really?"
"Negative, operative."
"You son of a bitch, NERO."
Partinax turned to address the team, after displaying an impressive AI, one that NERO would no doubt find kinship with. "That concludes this tour. If you ever want to speak, talk to Calixta and she'll inform me. If I have time you can drop by my quarters on the top deck. Besides that, you have free reign of the ship. Get settled in, this will be our home and our operating base for quite some time."
Ellis had only one question: "NERO, external audio volume up, twelve percent. Which one was Calixta again? And... If anyone needs me, I'll be in Storage."