This chapter mentions characters and events from Misfire Anon’s story The Other Beginning and was written under the assumption that you have read it. If you haven’t, please do so before you go on! Not only because it supplies crucial subtext for this and a few other chapters of TTSS, but also because it’s one of the best stories for Mass Effect ever written.
Sand crunched under Saren’s boots as he climbed the drawbridge and walked
through the airlock. His own ship felt alien to him. As if he had been away for
months, not one week. The stardock crew manager reported the Virial had been
repaired, serviced and cleaned. Next to the damage sustained in combat, the
Trodar engineers also took care of a small leak from the starboard coolant cell
and replaced a depleted battery powering the internal clock. Remembering the
Wisp, Saren hadn’t been able to hold back a smile.
He walked around, touching the familiar objects and breathing in the familiar air. The stardock crew had left everything impeccable. Compliments of Major Eraquis, the manager had said.
Continue reading Confession
Okeer froze. The sound had come from
behind. The safety on an automatic weapon, likely trained on him. Unless he’d managed to breathe in some of the toxin after
all and was starting to hear things. The adhesive gas mask he had printed on
the workstation in the communications room had already started to disintegrate
on his ride up.
But then a shuffle followed, a faint
breath of a released vacuum seal, and finally a turian voice. “Turn around, slowly, with your hands where I can
see them.”
Okeer snorted. The voice was familiar. He turned, slowly, to find a familiar face with fading white stripes staring at him from a rocky outcrop a few meters away, just a bit above him. “And so we meet again, skullface.”
Continue reading Leave-Taking
They crawled to the edge of the rocky
outcrop and peeked over. The east guard tower was ten meters ahead. It would be
entirely possible to hear a krogan posted there snoring from here. But Nihlus
could hear nothing.
“Change
of watch?” Saren said. He lowered his visor. A moment later, Nihlus heard the
delicate buzz of the optical focus. “There’s no one in there.”
Well, yes. The tower was a cube of
concrete with a rusty iron fence encircling the top and a slanted roof to keep
the equipment dry. There was no way to hide a krogan on it. Or anything, for
that matter. A ladder with six rungs led up from the ground on the east side. A
sturdy sliding door faced them from the south side. That would be the service
elevator.
Everything was just as Farril had described it. Only his boy, what-was-his-name-krogan was missing.
Continue reading House in an Invictus Jungle
Saren spun on his toes, making a full-circle sweep with his
arms extended sideways. The violence of the motion stirred the air like a fan.
When he reached the apex he ducked and repeated the sweep in the opposite
direction from a half-squat, while Kryik executed the mirror move centimeters
above his head. It was the flashy, optional finisher for the second form, done
by young athletes in competitions to impress the judges.
Saren felt neither young nor athletic. The entire exercise could have lasted no more than ten minutes, yet he was breathless. As he stepped back, Kryik spun one more time. Out of turn. A poorly thought-out improvisation or an honest mistake—it mattered not. Saren bent back at a hazardous angle and evaded Kryik’s slashing hand a split second before losing an eye.
Continue reading Gravity
Nihlus awoke to the sounds of hurried steps and shouting. He
jumped up, vision still blurry, hit the low ceiling of the tent and got a
crest-blade stuck within a seam. Saren’s corner was abandoned and
the tent was unsealed. He cursed and fumbled to free himself.
“Sarge!” Vezeer said, stepping
by the tent. “You better come over here. Quickly!”
“What is it? Argh! Talk to me,
damn it!”
But Vezeer was already gone. Nihlus yanked, and something tore, but he was free. He crawled out on all fours and started stumbling in the dark after the sound of Vezeer’s quick-paced footsteps. Flashlights were dancing ahead. Still half asleep, he caught on every bush and branch on the way. Something heavy thrashed about, crunching twigs. It sounded like a predator struggling with oversize prey. Nihlus ran.
Continue reading Betrayal
The noise was insufferable. His heartbeat was lost in it. He didn’t know if he was asleep or awake. Dead or alive. He tried to move and the blackness around him swirled into a wormhole, pulling him in. There was nothing he could do to fight it. He couldn’t even scream.
How’s he doing?
It won’t be much longer, Sarge.
Is there nothing we can do? Get
him to a proper hospital?
Wouldn’t change a thing. I’m sorry.
It’s not your fault.
I’m sorry anyway.
Continue reading Fever