tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61878402779484824992024-03-13T00:14:06.231-07:00The Cyber TavernDeep in the memetic and optimistic layers of the Internet lies a tavern. A watering hole for those who have been crushed or daunted by the cutthroat business of life and pop culture commentary.
Bartender and owner is the Digital Desperado, a man who writes and fights for game criticism, a more thoughtful look at nerd material and isn't above mixing something heady to help when clear answers aren't availableDigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-14287651825659968712020-03-01T12:24:00.001-08:002020-03-01T12:24:13.390-08:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction 2
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<b>Jump 2: Pokemon<br /><br />Prologue</b></div>
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I kept looking in the mirror, imagining my ideal look. Jump was in
the background, wearing a playful smile and an opulent black dress,
the kind you wouldn't be surprised seeing in a 1920s jazz club. I saw
my body flicker through the various ideas and outfits, until I
finally decided on something...a bit cliched but spoke to me
nonetheless. A simple cyan t-shirt, a pair of action jeans (those
special kinds you can actually kick worth a damn in) held together
with snake leather belt, and a long-flowing black coat tying it all
together. Not a heavy duster, but the kind you comfortably wear
during cold weather.</div>
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“You gonna throw some sunglasses on top of that get-up, Neo?”
Jump ribbed playfully. I turned around with a flourish and gave her a
bright smile.</div>
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“Say what you want, long coats and black was considered cool when I
was a teen, and I still think they are. Besides, I'm in an elite few
now. I think I'm allowed a little personal creative flourish after
all I've been through.”</div>
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She cocked an eyebrow. I then stroked my chin and returned to the
mirror. Maybe a more distinct bit of personal flourish is needed. And
so, I concentrated on my reflection and added some details. A
distinct multicolored fractal pattern was added to my shirt, making
the whole thing like like a cracked stained glass window with little
details and changes peppered throughout the cracked pieces. And some
simple cyan straight lines were added to the coat. Simple, stretched
lines reaching from the sleeves to the back, meeting in the middle in
a circle, then branching out to the collar and bottom ending in a
trim.</div>
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“There we go, I think that says me a bit more.” I twirled on the
spot, enjoying the extra design.</div>
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“Or that you're getting ready to enter the game grid.” Jump
laughed. I blew out a raspberry.</div>
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“Besides, I think you deserve a bit more of a personal badge of
honor.” she added with a flick of her hand.</div>
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I quickly patted myself down in concern. Half expecting her to change
my body again, but then I felt some different fabric around my breast
pocket. I looked down and saw...a perfectly integrated N7 patch. I
felt my heart twinge slightly.</div>
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“I think you deserve it. All the training you did with him,
everything you pulled off. I think he'd approve of this promotion.”</div>
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“Yeah...it'll also be a good reminder of what I still need to do.”
the images of Shepard and his crew in the hospital wing flashed
through my mind, put there by my doing.</div>
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There was a moment of silence, then I felt Jump clap her hand on my
shoulder. Her grip was strangely comforting. With a gesture, we
exited together out of the rooms of the house and back into the
Warehouse proper. A large collection of humanoid robots were
scattered about moving crate after crate of product to a singular
area. We followed.</div>
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“So, run by me again exactly what was added to this place?” I
inquired.</div>
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“Well you got familiar with the medbay obviously, and met my
Jumpbots. They're extremely basic and not meant for combat so don't
even think about having them fight for you.”</div>
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“I wasn't. One universe of using robot proxies was enough,” I
looked away in shame but then shook it off when I remembered they
were used to crush the memetic Kai Leng and smiled.</div>
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“Hey, don't be too hard on yourself, you actually grasped you
weren't unstoppable pretty quickly.” she responded, “Let's see,
there's a library over here, a swimming pool over here, Jack's
quarters are over there. Don't worry, she has all the trappings of
home, plus some music and media from there. Even got you a copy of
the same in your room.”
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“Great, some decent techno music to listen to between universes,
sounds relaxing.” I quipped sarcastically.</div>
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“Or you can check out the latest full sensory experience of Fornax
you perv,” Jump chuckled. I flashed red and tried to look away.</div>
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“Hey, I'm only human!” I finally blurted out.</div>
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“For now,”</div>
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“Excuse me,”</div>
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“Ah! We're finally here!”</div>
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I wanted to press further, but she was right. An elaborate storage
vault stood before us. Multiple locks and security measures were
peppered throughout it. Number combination, letter combination,
keypads, riddles, a giant post-it note on the front saying “Property
of the Manager, Touch At Your Own Risk,” eye and fingerprint
scanners. Name it, it was there. Though to be honest, it looked like
most of it was just set dressing since there was only one lock that
legitimately mattered: A simple keylock made specifically for the
Warehouse Key placed under the post-it note.</div>
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The Jumpbots finally placed the last of T'Som Manufacturing's weapons
inside. The assault rifles, the grenades, the last of the Cain X1
portable nuclear launchers. It was all there. Jump allowed me to do
the honors with a simple wave of her hand. I closed the vault door,
then locked it with my Key.</div>
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“Never again,” I spoke aloud.</div>
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“You say that, but do you really mean that?” Jump asked, “I
mean, the multiverse is a big place and there's plenty out there who
sees this stuff as child's play. Why limit yourself like this?”</div>
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“Because it's the right thing to do. Morality still has a place,
and I'll be damned if I abandon it for personal gain.” I turned
around and walked past Jump as she gave a slight shrug.</div>
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“Eh, morality, such a human construct. But hey, it's your journey.
Speaking of which, it's been about a week since you two have been
chilling out here soooo.” in a flash, she was right in front of me,
her stance and posture turning from composed ingenue to exuberant
child, “let's talk about where you're going next!”</div>
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I gave a small chuckle at her energy and nodded in agreement,
doubling my pace to put as much distance between me and the vault as
I could.</div>
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“What, so I actually have a proper say this time? None of this boot
from the nest and see if I fly nonsense?” I asked as we made our
way to Jack's quarters.</div>
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“Nah, I say you've earned at least some autonomy. Like you said,
you're above most people who take this journey, credit where credit
is due.”</div>
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“So...anywhere?” I couldn't help but hide my excitement.</div>
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“Well...almost anywhere.” Jump tilted her head. “It's a bit
complicated but hey, we'll have plenty of time to discuss it if you
get back.”</div>
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“So much for credit where credit is due,” I frowned.</div>
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As we walked out, Jack was already stepping out to meet us, dressed
in her original leather jacket and pants attire, ponytail sported.</div>
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“Couldn't really think of a new look?” I asked.</div>
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“I think you're new enough for the both of us, blue.” Jack
responded before jabbing me in the arm. I grinned and beared the hit.</div>
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“So before this whole thing goes down I have to ask you something,
what the hell is this?” Jack then held up a...no way.</div>
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“You have got to be kidding me.” I took the pokeball from her,
despite her protests and held it in my hand. Suddenly I was eight
years old again, giddy with anticipation.</div>
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“Uhhh blue? Variza? Whatever you wanna be called? What is going
on?”</div>
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Without thinking I pointed at Jump and yelled, “hit it!.” and
without missing a beat, a certain iconic cheesy guitar rock chord
exploded from the air.</div>
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“I wanna beee the very best!” I sang, pointing at Jack with
theatrical flair, “Like no one ever was! To catch them is my real
test! To train them is my cause!” I tossed her the ball and slid to
my knees, the emotion overtaking me.</div>
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“Gotta catch 'em all!!! Pokemon!!”</div>
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Jump lightly clapped. Jack just stood there, confused.</div>
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“I...pokey what now?” she finally replied after not blinking for
several seconds.</div>
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“Pokemon! Ohhh my gosh yes! It's real! It feels exactly like I
thought it would!” I exclaimed, moving my hands over the smooth
metallic surface of the pokeball. Then curiosity overtook me and I
clicked the tiny circle in its center.</div>
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A burst of white light erupted from the ball, pooling onto the floor
in front of us, rapidly dissipating to reveal an adorable
brown-furred four-legged creature. An Eevee.</div>
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Jack jumped in mild surprise as it ran up her shoulder and started
nuzzling her.</div>
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“I..what the hell is this thing!?”</div>
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“A Pokemon!” Jump and I said together in unison. She gave it a
sharp look and flexed her fist, poised to strike.</div>
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“Wait! It's harmless! It's in a ball which means its
tamed...right?” I turned to Jump on the last word. She nodded.</div>
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“Yeah, it's harmless. It's like a pet.” I took a moment to choose
my next words carefully, the Eevee unrelenting in its passionate
display of affection for Jack's neck, “Pokemon are...well pocket
monsters. It's kind of a portmantau. Basically creatures with
extraordinary abilities that you can capture and train in various
activities with these.” I pointed to the ball. “There's an entire
world dedicated to humans and Pokemon living together. Making life
easier, co-existing with nature, participating in competitive
fighting tournaments and beauty contests. It was the biggest cultural
phenomenon for people of my generation in my world all over. Video
games, animated shows, comic books, novels, music, it was the hottest
trend. Hell, last I checked it was still going strong for almost
twenty years”</div>
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Jack took a moment to lightly lift the Eevee off of her shoulder and
give it a good solid look. It looked happy to be held. She looked
quizzical.</div>
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“This... thing spawned twenty years of merchandise and
entertainment.” She cocked an eyebrow.</div>
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“Well, there's a lot more than just Eevee there. There's
like...seven-hundred different types of them now, all as diverse as
there are aliens in your Milky Way galaxy, Jack.”</div>
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She took another moment to examine the Eevee, almost like she was
looking for a magical angle to see the thing the way I did with
childlike fervor.</div>
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“So what exactly do you do with them?”</div>
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“Well most of the games had you use them in battles against other
trainers. Sometimes in competitions to prove you're the best in the
world, other times to stop criminal organizations from using Pokemon
for evil, and other times to shut up little kids who won't shut up
about how great shorts are.”</div>
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“...battling?”</div>
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Before I could reply, Jump interrupted with, “Eevee, use Swift
attack!” and in an instant, its eyes glowed a brilliant yellow and
several glowing energy stars blinked into existence around it....</div>
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...and went flying straight at me. The blows hit me fast and hard
like blows from a tiny hammer wielded by a madman. I was on the floor
cursing under my breath within seconds. Jack's eyes lit up with
surprise. Jump laughed.</div>
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“And the funny thing is Jack, that one you're holding is a common
house pet. There's much bigger and worse stuff out in that world as
well. And like he said,” She twirled the pokeball on her finger and
with a gesture recalled the Eevee back into it in a flash of red
light, “you gotta catch 'em all.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I think one of them hit me in the nuts. Oh god I forgot how badly
that hurt.” I groaned.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh suck it up, you got shot in the gut that one time” Jump
remarked, completely cold to my suffering, “So, Jack, you
interested?”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She tilted her head in curiosity, then something changed in her eyes.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, you said the stuff in my world was around for about nine
years, and even then you didn't get everything right. Which means if
we go here, it'll be a lot easier... right?”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shook my head in confirmation, trying to stand back up.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And...when you say gotta catch 'em all?”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It was a tagline. A catchphrase, like collecting all the dolls or
action figures in a set. But in Pokemon's case, the stuff you could
capture and train could be something that commands the earth and sea
itself. Or life and death. Or time and space.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack blinked.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, it's really ridiculous. But if you knew what you were doing,
you could tame and control basically demigods.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let's do it.” She responded immediately.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Perfect!” Jump exclaimed, holding out the elaborately ornate
character sheet she showed me back in the Mass Effect universe. Then
she flicked the page with the deft showmanship of a magician to
reveal a second sheet; Jack's.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, first thing's first. You know I can't exactly let you
take an entire planet's worth of Pokemon with you. Trust me, there's
not enough space in this Warehouse and that might make
things...boring,” she said the last word with a sigh through
clenched teeth, “so I'm letting you know right now that whatever
you have on you, your team of six, that is what will come with you
when your decade is up. No storage PC, no Pokemon as companions. Six
each. Got it.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I nodded. Jack cautiously nodded as well, barely understanding half
of the terms Jump was using.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So let's talk about backgrounds.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Backgrounds? You mean like...an established history?” Jack
inquired.<br /><br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Of course. None of this 'hey I'm actually from a different
universe' stuff is actually optional. That would get a little
one-note wouldn't you say?”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I clenched my teeth and balled up my fists, “Yeah, it would have
been even better if it wasn't thrust upon me with as little warning
as possible.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Cool beans. So what are you thinking? Well-off? Rural? Bra size?”
She shot me a look with the last question.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh screw off!”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay, boy this time around,” she smiled.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I wanted to say something else, but with a quick gesture of the hand,
everything stopped.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And with that the sheets are done,” the sheets vanished from her
hands in a puff of smoke. What? I don't even remember writing
anything or confirming anything.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry guys, a life is more than just stats and numbers,” Jump
replied, answering my unspoken question, “only by living it can you
truly grasp what you have been given.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jump then took out a gray blocky device, a classic Game Boy, pulled
out a simple gray cartridge from the ether and jammed it into the
slot on the back.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Now...let's start this new game, shall we?” and she flicked the
power on. In an instant, everything went dark, the only sound being
the chime of the handheld's activation.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8y4L2fvaEgrvU2u5SWTQNgsgnbGnUfYeWRPdmfR5tUxcvjioK6-PY9Ub2MmCvsXXdevkSID6qt5lnp88A9fpZp7a2Vd5SvShLjr8x_goJnh-Z_ZJOxwnKuWX_EzgBfI4xn9iFOwmkRew/s1600/Pokemon+Nuvema+Town.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8y4L2fvaEgrvU2u5SWTQNgsgnbGnUfYeWRPdmfR5tUxcvjioK6-PY9Ub2MmCvsXXdevkSID6qt5lnp88A9fpZp7a2Vd5SvShLjr8x_goJnh-Z_ZJOxwnKuWX_EzgBfI4xn9iFOwmkRew/s320/Pokemon+Nuvema+Town.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Terry...Terry wake up. We're here.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I groaned awake, the light rumbling of the truck's engine that rocked
me to sleep finally slowing to a complete stop. I looked down
relieved to see Bruce still asleep in my arms, his light orange
feathers all ruffled up around his neck, his body glowing slightly
from his natural heat. I looked out the window, to see the bright
purple and orange haze of the early morning and the quaint dirt road
leading up to an unassuming house in the distance. I quietly took out
my pokeball and returned Bruce, almost immediately missing the warmth
of my friend in doing so, and unfastened my seatbelt.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mom, how are we going to get all of our stuff in there?” I
yawned, “It'll take forever,”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not to worry, son,” my dad beamed, dancing three pokeballs in
his open hand as he killed the engine, “I rented some Machoke to
help with that.” I blinked in surprise. I won't have to haul my
desk and things in myself? Wow, his new job at Silph Co. might really
be for the best.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I stepped out into the cool morning dew and cautiously walked
outside the front yard, and... it still didn't feel right. I missed
the light salty seabreeze of the air of Hoenn, I missed my friends. I
furrowed my brow, trying to come to terms with this newfound
melancholy.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's okay Terry,” I heard my mom behind me, her hand on my
shoulder, “It's...part of life. Change. Experiencing new things.
It's...kind of how we humans evolve,” She smiled at the turn of
phrase.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned up to meet her gaze, “I guess it's the kind we can't stop
with an Everstone, right?”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Now how in the world did you become so smart?” Mom laughed.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Reading Professor Juniper's published papers on Pokemon and
stones.” I confessed.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Darn it son, if you're reading stuff like that at your age, you
could probably replace her in a decade or two,” Dad joined me,
kneeling down to meet my level, the Machoke working effortlessly in
the background hauling box after box into our new home.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We stayed there in silence for a while, my hand tightening around
Bruce's ball.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...at least I still have you.” I muttered under my breath,
“and together, we're going to go on so many adventures together. I
promise.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, that's the spirit... the journey's just begun.”</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-53748915010094817662019-08-20T18:06:00.002-07:002019-08-22T13:21:29.242-07:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Mass Effect Epilogue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mass Effect Epilogue</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've long since lost
track of the time. The doctors were very careful in maintaining an
inoffensive atmosphere of healing for me. No clocks. No technology.
No connection to the outside world. Just a bed, an analog video
monitor, a music player, and a relatively pleasant view of the
outside. For a wing fashioned out of what remained of the Citadel, it
was quite relaxing. Physical therapy came and went, bandages were
redressed, bones were set and healed. Several geth platforms came to
visit me, equipped with some snippets of information from SAM to help
reform my mental state. It was all a lovely comforting little bubble
after the nightmare we all survived.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But it didn't change
a simple fact in my mind.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My name is Variza
T'Som, and I am a war criminal. The power of the Crucible's energy
wave actively crippled every single Mass Relay in the entire galaxy.
In addition to the bodycount at the Battle of the Crucible, there
were still untold trillions of lives cut off from crucial transport
and supply lines. FTL travel without the relay network would take
years and by then more would have died from disease, injury, or
starvation. And my reckless plan at that crucial battle robbed the
galaxy of their greatest heroes, several of which happened to be
people I could fall friends. All because of the choices I made.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And every single
day, I was expecting someone to arrive to carry out the sentence. In
the meantime, I was left with my sins and the dull headache from the
piecemeal personality reconstruction.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The day started off
as usual. A beautiful sunrise waking me up, an asari nurse taking my
temperature and redressing my wounds, the usual medical upkeep, some
classical Earth music starts playing as I do my physical therapy,
trying to get my arms and legs to work again, then the monitor clicks
on with the latest chapter of an asari romance I...admit kept me
engaged despite dreading the other shoe to drop.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then that
afternoon...I got a visitor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh Miria, I don't
care if we're both asari,” the lead pontificated to her love while
overlooking a gorgeous nebula from their space yacht, “damn the
galaxy, damn society, and damn our sisters with their cruel
backstabbing ways. Who cares what the others think? That we're
ardat-yakshi, that we're uncouth. Forget them all. We could live in
some colony in the Attican Traverse or a simple yurt on some reserve
on who knows where. I just want us to be together!” She threw
herself into her lover's arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally, after ten
long chapters of back and forth, she finally said it. Now come on
Miria, say those beautiful words. You two have had chemistry for so
long and its clear your taste in human and salarian partners is dodgy
at best. Just take her in your arms and go make adorable blue
children together. Come on, say those magical words.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey, blue! You in
there!? Come on, I've been looking everywhere for you!” A voice
barked from the other side of my door, fist banging on it all the
while.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I almost fell out of
my wheelchair, swearing up a storm as my body protested with sharp
pains. I fumbled for the remote and the plastic spork I had hidden in
my lap (take what you can get) and shut off the monitor, and started
wheeling my way to the door.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I tried to ready
some sort of attack as I pulled the door back. It was Jack,
obviously, but she could be working for someone else. It didn't
matter if I didn't see her survive the battle. I somehow lived and we
were in the same area so the logistics of her being alive wasn't my
priority. Either way, tt would be the perfect ploy for assassination.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pulled the door
back and on reflex unleashed my biotic fury in a blind strike! And
there was Jack to greet me. Plain medical looking patient's robe,
walking with a cane in one hand and a freshly telekinetically
destroyed handful of lilacs in the other.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What the fuck!?”
She declared, her hands thrown up in reflexive defense.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack, just get it
over with! There's probably a pistol in those flowers so just-” I
spat out, giving a beat to realize what just happened.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Pistol? What are
you- why did you blow up my flowers?!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don't bury the
lede, it's not your style. If you're gonna carry out justice, at
least be direct about it!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shut my eyes and
leaned forward, expecting the Psychotic Biotic to do what she came
here to do. I felt a force throw my wheelchair back into the wall, my
head hitting the back with a light thud. I swallowed and waited for
the snapping of my neck, or a bullet to the head, or however she
decided to do it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt her arms
close around my neck. Snapping of the neck it is. Go on. Get that
medal. You deserve it after everything I've put you through. Then...
I felt her arms close around my back and her body pressed to mine in
a tight and admittedly awkward sitting hug.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Blue, you are the
most frustrating and annoying people I've ever known in my entire
life! But dammit...it's so good to see you again.” I heard her
holding back tears as her grip on me tightened.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I...guess she's not
here to kill me after all.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slowly
reciprocated her hug. After so much time alone, it felt so nice.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't how long it
took, but she finally let go and hobbled to the bed and sat down,
letting her cane fall down where it stood.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How exactly did
you find me?” I finally asked, then in a fit of deja vu after
seeing the wooden support clatter to the floor I continued, “and
why do you keep ending up using a cane after all of this?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I overheard the
doctors talk about you. Well, indirectly, but they kept saying
something about emotional sensitivity and carefully limiting access
to extranet-oriented media, so I figured it was you. Also, I have no
damn clue, I don't have a say in what parts of my body gets messed
up.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Heh, so you were
here the whole time?” I smiled, looking down at my bandaged arms
embarrassed at my crazy leaps of logic.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah. Just a lot
of tests, medication and boring physical therapy.” She groaned in
pain as she tried lifting one of her legs before setting it back
down.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So... guess I'll
just keep waiting for the guillotine to come down then.” I exhaled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What...what are
you talking about, Variza?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked up to her,
dumbfounded. “What do you mean what? After everything we've gone
through, I should be court martial'd and sentenced to death.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay what kind of
drugs do they have you on, because you sound high as shit with a
thought like that.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm serious,
Jack.” I felt my mouth getting dry. “When I first arrived at the
Citadel I attempted to assassinate a Spectre, an agent of the
Council. That is grounds for an act of domestic terrorism. I
confessed to untold crimes that I didn't commit in order to
facilitate prison in order to hide from getting killed by that
Spectre. And instead I successfully escaped that prison with a
notorious serial criminal.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh don't
sugarcoat it too much, Variza, I know too well what I have done in my
past. But didn't you forget? We stopped Saren, and we got pardoned.
New leases on life. You built that company, I started teaching at
Grissom. We became better people.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, a weapon's
manufacturing company. Built on patents on stuff from the future
given to me by Jump.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well I wouldn't
exactly say that's illegal just...really confusing.” She threw her
hands up and tried chuckling.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A weapon's
manufacturing company. Weapons hurt people. And I proceeded to lie,
undermine, blackmail, double-talk, and gaslight anyone with a fat
enough wallet and resources to help me make more of these things,
which may I remind you includes a cannon that fires nukes, something
I'm pretty sure is banned by the Geneva Conventions by the way, all
to get ready for a war that I basically profited off of. So that's a
morally skewed occupation bolstered by corporate espionage, emotional
manipulation, and at least twenty other bigger laws involving asari
corporate culture I don't know about.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You mean the
company you had blown to pieces to save our asses from Cerberus?
Variza, please stop, you're being too hard on yourself,”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The murder of
Matriarch Benezia. Liara's mother.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That was a mercy
killing. She was in pain.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And what about
that asari Spectre? The one I just casually shot in the face like a
sociopath?” I continued. Jack stopped mid-sentence and looked away.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It didn't matter
if she was working for the Shadow Broker. I...killed people. One who
probably did her job well in keeping her part of the galaxy safe. And
I just... popped her in the head. Blame the adrenaline, blame me
wanting to not let the Broker destroy what I made but I did it. I
then went on to be the figurehead of the Shadow Broker and continued
to perpetuate a criminal empire, causing unknown suffering to even
more people, all while hiding away in a bunker on some gas giant out
of fear of getting killed by Reaper agents. So that's two acts of
first degree murder, criminal conspiracy, and putting an army of meat
shields in the way of reprisals.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack remained
silent. She tried to talk several times but stopped.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then...there's
what I did at the Crucible.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack's eyes lit up.
“Variza, don't you dare put that on yourself.” she reached out
and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How many people
died on that day? Do you have the exact numbers? Or how about our
crew? Garrus? Tali? Wrex? Shepard? Can you answer me that?” My tone
remained dry and practiced, my inner thoughts finally expressed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack...I sent
Shepard to his death with what I did. He was an icon, a freaking
legend that everyone should owe everything to, and I was the one who
sent him to die. And who am I? No one. I've never held a weapon
before, hell I despise killing and all of this psychological warfare
nonsense! It churns my bloody stomach.” I felt my body shake, but I
continued anyway.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It doesn't matter
what my intentions were. The law should still apply. If not the
Council's then at least my own bloody code. And I broke it, time and
again. Because it was easy, and because I wanted to live. I. Am. A
Criminal. And I'm. A. Coward.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt tears hit my
arms. I started holding myself as they began to fall in earnest.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tell me...what am
I if not a criminal? With more blood on my hands than anyone can ever
understand? A maniac? A butcher? A...A...” I shut my eyes, unable
to get the words out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt something
grab my hand.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How about a
friend?” her voice was soft. Softer than I ever heard from her.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How about a
liberator of the geth? I clearly remember you being surprised by that
so...didn't happen in your games right?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked up.
Games...what games? Were there games?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And...yeah,
everything is terrible now but... everyone is still working to make
it better. The Krogan are cured. The Quarians are getting a lot of
support from the geth in order to resettle their homes. You have
helped to do good here.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack...the
cost...I don't.” She put her hand over my mouth and slowly broke
into a wide smile.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Also...there's
something you have to see.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And with some effort
she got a hold of my wheelchair and moved me out of the room.
Corridors flew by in a blur. Nurses and doctors took off after us in
horror. Jack was barely staying upright, laughing through the pain as
she leaned on the chair while keeping up with it. I held on in
terror, not knowing exactly what to expect.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally she tripped
and the chair went flying on its own. Out of pure instinct I tried
slowing down, the sight of an observation deck coming closer and
closer. After some effort I managed to stop the chair. But before I
could look back to see if Jack was okay, I saw them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Normandy crew.
Joker, Tali, Garrus...everyone who was with Shepard at the Citadel.
Bedridden. Unconscious. Their bodies...infected with some sort of
yellow energy. A side effect of the Crucible? Well, whatever it was,
it had the doctor's stumped the way they were communicating with
eachother. And in one separate corner...was Shepard. He was like the
others...but alive.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I almost felt happy
again after seeing it. Then the orderlies ran in and took me and Jack
away. On the ride back I started laughing. Like I finally got the
conclusion to the longest brick joke.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Screw you fate!”
I exclaimed, “So much for red, blue, or green you giant war-ending
piece of crap!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was treated as
delirious and given something to help me sleep, then sent back to my
room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't remember
falling asleep, but when I came to I was back in my bed, a doctor
sitting in a chair on the other end of the room. She was human, mixed
caucasian-asian descent from what I could tell, and she was holding a
datapad.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hello, Variza.
I'm here to assist you with your mental and emotional recuperation
and to help you cope with what you saw a little while ago.” She
spoke courteously. I looked around and started shaking off the
sedative</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Where's Jack?”
I sat up in my bed as best as I could.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don't worry,
she's safe. She made it quite hard for us to get her back to her
room, but she doesn't appear to be contaminated.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Suddenly the
isolation made sense, “You have no idea what's going with
that...energy. Radiation. Whatever the Crucible unleashed. Only that
it seems to be keeping those exposed to it in a comatose like state.
Right?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Officially we
aren't allowed to tell patients but...yeah you're a smart girl. I
like that.” The doctor smiled, “which reminds me, let me see if
this is working properly,” she swiped and tapped several spots on
her datapad.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt an odd
pressure over my head, like a hundred small fingers gently pressing
and searching all over it like a curious child. I closed my eyes and
tried to relax, letting the reconstructive therapy do its work.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Starting to feel
more like yourself again, Variza?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I nodded. “Without
the singular threat of the Reapers keeping every single profile
unified, I did kind of lose sight of who I was but these sessions
here have helped wonderfully.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then let's start
with some questions then, see if the long-term and short-term memory
is working properly.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right. So let's
start with the basics. Who are you? Where were you born? And how did
you end up on the Citadel in 2181?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I took several
breaths and allowed the pathways of memory to come back to me, and I
spoke.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My name is Variza
T'Som. Daughter to Maria Watson and Sira T'Som, colonists of Xiao's
Ambition in the Horsehead Nebula. They were attacked by batarian
slavers, then Saren arrived to escalate the conflict. They were
caught in the crossfire. He called it justice and left with a job
well done. So I kept my head down, got a shuttle out of there, worked
here and there at other colonies picking up skills and engineering
skills then decided to test out my new mech on a little personal
revenge. Then...well you recall the trial. Guess all those little
jobs in between caught up to me.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The doctor frowned
and checked the datapad again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...it's
technically correct.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I blinked. “What
do you mean? It's my life, clear as day.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then do you
recall Maria's birthday? How they first met?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...that's a very
specific question and it's been well over a century since that
happened.” My head started to ache.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A century...and
yet Saren was somehow responsible to their death?” She smiled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My nerves started
acting up. But before I could protest, the doctor changed the
subject.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's alright,
you're probably still working out the details, it's fine. But what's
really intriguing is this little thing that keeps popping up. A
Warehouse, and a warehouse key. Sound familiar?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right...it's...an
old-fashioned warehouse, that uses an antiquated key for
unconventional security. A friend of mine loaned it to me for nothing
when I was starting out T'Som Manufacturing. Great for testing out
and storing new inventory.” I grinned. That seemed right.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So tell me how
were you able to pull stuff from it from within a dinner party with
Donovan Hock?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I groaned.
“I...well...there was a pack and...it was lined to mess with
security so...” My head started swimming again. “Um...I'm sorry I
didn't quite catch your name. Doctor...?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You can call me
Jump.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right, Doctor
Jump. These questions are a little too hard for me right now so can
we try something else?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Jump. Jumper.
Warehouse. Spark. Quest.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Those
five words rattled in my head for a while. Like remembering the old
lyrics to a long forgotten nursery rhyme. Wait a minute...how did I
get this key? I turned to my left hand, only to see it in my hand. I
gasped and dropped it in surprise.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Oh
dear,” Doctor Jump sighed, “Somehow I knew this was going to
happen. SAM and the geth kept your memories and your profile, but
edited and changed it. Most likely to retain what could 'logically be
feasible.' And yet they accepted the spatial screwery that your
Warehouse did. Figure that out why dontcha.” She then got up and
sat on the bed next to me.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">I
don't have much time left and sadly there's only so much I can do
so... I'm going to ask you a big question, and how you choose to
answer it will determine the future. Alright?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I
nodded.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">This
world you're in, this galaxy, this universe, isn't the only one. It
is one of untold millions. All filled with fantastic and unbelievable
wonders. Mindbending technology, alien architecture, things that can
only be described as magic. But also filled with dangers and
challenges, some that will destroy the lesser minds of others with a
mere thought, others will make you beg for something as simple as
death.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"> “But
somewhere out there, is the power of an Old Spark. Something that if
obtained, would allow you to do...anything. Also out there is a
universe with a single habitable world. A simple world with simple
residents. One where you can live a quiet and simple life. So... my
question is were you given the option, what would you do? Stay here
and recover in this small hospital and fully accept the consequences
of your actions? Leave to go into this larger and grander world to
have a chance at having your every wish granted? Or, do you wish to
escape to this simpler humble existence?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">This
seemed to be one hell of a hypothetical. My first thought was the
simple life but...then I'd be abandoning the Normandy crew. And
Shepard. And Jack. Wait...any wish granted? That could include a cure
for this phenomena. A restoration of the Mass Relay network. I
could...fix everything. But the horrors, the trials, the pain, the
ordeals...</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's what you're
fighting for....</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If
I had the choice...I'd go for this Spark you mentioned,” I said
after a while. “I may be a criminal, but I am a criminal who still
wants to set things right.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
Doctor Jump quickly got up and cheered! Fist pumped in the air and
she let out of an excited shriek of glee! It actually frightened me.
What happened? What did I say!?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes!!
I knew you were still rattling around in there somewhere! And you
just said the magic words! Congratulations! You completed the first
link in your Jump Chain! Magnificent!! Magnificent!!!” She
exclaimed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
had so many questions. But then...I didn't need them answered. It all
came rushing back to me. The offer at the Cybertavern, the warehouse
key, the challenge, my human life, my friends, everything. As clear
as my plain pinkish forearms right in front of me. I was me again! I
was human!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...oh
my gosh. Holy shit!” I started cheering as well. Putting my hands
through my hair, stepping out of the bed with my fully mended limbs.
Testing out my...well cut and impressive physical figure? Wait that's
not right.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey,
you put in the work when Shepard trained you, way I see it you keep
that bod, tits or not.” Jump responded to my confusion.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
took a couple practice kicks at the air and shadowboxed a bit.
Perfect. Thank you Jump.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right,
and now that this is all said and done, time to look over your sheet
and get your final preparations ready to move onwards.” Jump spoke
more calmly this time, handing me an official looking piece of paper.
Embroidered with bright cyan engravings and a bit of gold leaf on the
edges. It was... basically a character sheet. But instead of stats it
showed things like items like the credits I had at the beginning or
the footlocker full of weapons. That and everything else had values
attached to them. Including....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Drawbacks?”
I asked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah,
about that. Every world needs to challenge or press you, so if I
think it's going to be boring, I throw some curveballs your way. But
you get more to spend on so it evens out. Then I block out your
memory before the adventure begins so you can't meta it.” Jump
shrugged, “it's only fair.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
wanted to hit her so hard. The Reaper's obession with me wasn't
exactly something I'd call fair. But then I looked over the numbers
again. Something isn't right. There was still some points leftover. I
brought this up to her.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh.
That's so you can have a companion.” she replied,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A
companion. Like how the Doctor has one so he...” my voice trailed
off.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doesn't
become completely detached from humanity? Yes.” She finished my
sentence.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But...why?
Why do you care?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh
my dear Jumper. I'm not some cold unfeeling machine of calculations
and rigid reason. I do care about those who take this sort of
challenge...in my own way,” She added that last part after I raised
an eyebrow.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
felt a warmth rise up in me. I knew exactly who to pick.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ah.
But a word of warning,” Jump intoned, “though your companion will
obtain power and skills while by your side, their fate shall be the
same as yours. They die, they go home, alright?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
hesitated at first. But then I nodded.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right,
so whose it gonna be?”</div>
<div style="border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
knocked on the door to Jack's room and offered my hand. When she
answered she did a double take.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Uhh
who the hell are y-?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wanna
go on an adventure, Jack? See the multiverse, figure out how to solve
this weird outbreak? See me when I don't have blue skin and robots
shooting at me?” My voice was light, barely restrained by my
excitement.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...Variza?
Is...that you?” She sized me up. I wanna say she approved by the
way her jaw dropped.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“In
the human flesh. So...what do you say? Adventure, excitement, stuff
you can bring back to help this world heal from its ordeal.” I gave
her a knowing smirk with that last comment. Her eyes began to light
up, the revelation hitting her.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She
took my hand. “Yeah,”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
I pulled her into the threshold from her room into my Warehouse.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Holy
shit...it's big.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yep,
and apparently it's gonna be getting some renovations very very soon.
So, let's see your room. We got a week to ourselves before our next
stop.” I said, gesturing to several robots as they moved the last
of my weapons and my Kodiak shuttle to storage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...wow”
Jack finally said after starting several times.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah...wow.”
I turned to the threshold and took one last look at the hospital. I'm
coming back Shepard, you and the others are going to be fine. I
promise.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Goodbye
world of Mass Effect,” I closed the door and pulled out my
Warehouse key, causing the doorway to vanish and just leaving me
inside the Warehouse, “And hello...everywhere else,”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Mass
Effect Jump Complete!!</b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Final
Results</b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Jump Stats (1000
CP)</b></div>
</ol>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Race:</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
Asari: Blue Monogendered (all female) alien race. Capable of
“melding” to mate and have asari offspring with any other alien
race of any other gender. Natural capacity for biotics – the
ability to manipulate dark matter into mass effect fields for
telekinesis and other physics bending powers.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Age: </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">208</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Background:
</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Drop-In (-0). No history, no
background, no papers. Have fun.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Starting
Location: </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Galactic Citadel</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Class: Adept.</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
Exceptional Biotic Control with limited direct combat ability.
Training in Heavy Pistols, SMGs, and Heavy Weapons</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<u><b>Perks</b></u></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Finesse</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span><b>(-150 With Adept Discount)</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">.
Fantastic muscle control and with it the ability to finely utilize
biotic abilities. Also translates to better reflexes.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Exemplar (-400)</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">.
Paragon Til Death. Have the uncanny ability to act like a bona fide
hero, continuously finding ways to solve major incidents with as
little collateral damage as possible</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(-550)</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<u><b>Equipment</b></u></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Elite Ordinance
(-100 With Drop-In Discount). </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">A
Weapons case with ten top of the line weapons inside of them. All
pinnacles of production. Weapons include a Cain mini-nuke launcher,
the Widow Sniper Rifle, Javelin Sniper Rifles. Current intent is at
least one weapon from all major weapons groups, Pistol, SMG, Assault
Rifle, Shotgun, Sniper Rifle, and Heavy, are represented.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Kodiak Shuttle
(-200 With Drop-In Discount).</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> A
small shuttle capable of limited FTL travel and planetary flight.
Looks like a flying brick though</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Extra Credits
(-200). 4</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">0k Credits, currency
used in the Milky Way Galaxy, universally accepted. Don't spend it
all in one place.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>LOKI Mech (-100).
</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">A simple bipedal robot easily
used for security purposes. Can use basic pistols and has a built in
energy shield.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Medi-Gel (-50). </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">A
Case of medi-gel, capable to healing lethal puncture wounds from
bullets and blades. Won't do much good against destroyed organs or
severed limbs. Comes with 20 gobs and instructions on how to make
more.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(-1200)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<u><b>Drawbacks</b></u></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Shepard's Flock
(+100). </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">No matter what happens,
adventures and shenanigans are going to happen to you, always somehow
tied to Commander Shepard's exploits.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Reaper's Eye
(+300).</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> The Reapers have you on
their radar. They will do everything in their power to capture you
and understand how you work.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(-800) (+1000) – 200.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remaining CP: 200. May be used to gain a companion!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Companion</b>: Jack aka Jacqueline Nought, aka Subject Zero aka
The Psychotic Biotic.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Companion Specific Universal Drawback</b>: One and Done\ One Life
To Lose (+200): Your Companions are treated just like you. If they
die, barring any power or item that revives them, they are sent home.
Upside is they get bonus 600 CP for powers and perks when getting
imported into a Jump. This is Fiated by Jump-Chan herself and cannot
be turned off.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>One Week Later...</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack stepped out of the shower and looked over her expansive wardrobe
contained within the otherwise mundane looking closet. She couldn't
help but try out several looks while listening to some techno music
on the player. She had to hand it to Blue or Jump or whoever, they
made this place feel like she never left the Milky Way Galaxy. After
a while, she finally settled on her look, at least she did until she
realized the multiple bracelets and chokers were a bit much. She
removed them and threw them on the bed.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as she turned to throw them down, she noticed something else on
the bed. A ball, about the size of a tangerine. It was made of some
smooth plastic material, and was colored red and white. She had never
seen it before.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What the hell is this?” She mumbled to herself. The ball then
opened with a flash of brilliant white light....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLG-HpoQ5be0CD7aIetpQwQJzxSvUl737HT1JhxiNDyudst1LDpBYPpu35Cotvs9pUVz_RtUpstYJtyn_NY46KSAlfwiQ_M_n9SkK4SQWBLwrW1VXRTWgtcgE2vHCe8kAZctwem70eq0/s1600/Pokeball+Gif.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLG-HpoQ5be0CD7aIetpQwQJzxSvUl737HT1JhxiNDyudst1LDpBYPpu35Cotvs9pUVz_RtUpstYJtyn_NY46KSAlfwiQ_M_n9SkK4SQWBLwrW1VXRTWgtcgE2vHCe8kAZctwem70eq0/s1600/Pokeball+Gif.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-67228200117233463032019-08-14T18:49:00.000-07:002019-08-22T13:21:12.975-07:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 28<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Chapter 28:</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span><b>Battle For The Milky Way</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I finally knew the answer to a certain question. What would happen if
I was trapped on an enemy spaceship, and I somehow got access to my
Warehouse. A Warehouse full of powerful artillery and doomsday
weapons courtesy of T'Som Manufacturing. And I somehow knew how to
use every single deathdealer in there.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The answer? Chaos. Total chaos. And the anthem blasting in my ears
had a pretty appropriate statement for my would-be captors and
bodysnatchers, The Collectors....</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This is your time to pay,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This is your judgment day,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My Prothean laser rifle vaporized a Collector sniper's head while a
casually tossed grenade decimated a tightly knit squad standing
between me and the next door in the corridor. The ferocious roar of
the Seeker Swarms inches behind me. I dove towards the threshold,
Warehouse key outstretched. The door yielded and I dropped into a
roll, the swarm slamming against an energy barrier at the Warehouse
threshold.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>We made a sacrifice,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And now we get to take your life,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM, upload mental profile: Tali Zorah. Priority, setting up an
SOS to all channels from current location.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Variza, at the rate you are using these profiles, severe
neurological damage may occur. Also, while I am maintaining your
adrenaline levels, I will stop them if your heartrate gets to
dangerous levels.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Yeah I hear you, now shut up and
hurry! Using up all of those low-grade explosives only bought us some
time and I have no idea if that barrier can be breached or not. Jump
doesn't tell me anything!” I spat out at breakneck speed while
jogging in place.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a few moments, I could feel my mind restructuring itself. A
swath of practical and STEM education flooding into me at a breakneck
speed, replacing the years spent at the turian military academy. And
with it, I suddenly had an idea.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>We shoot without a gun,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>We'll take on anyone,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I began dismantling several tools and and jerryrigging them into a
device, slapping it on my Omni-Tool, my fingers flying across the
holo-interface as I began programming my distress signal and
overclocking the hardware to expand my range.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No good, I have to make my way to the bridge if I want to extend
this signal.” With a few quick button presses I had a layout of the
ship. And there was the bridge. Two floors up and at least a mile
away.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM, upload profile of Justicar Samara.” I replied, casting off
the blasted armor I was wearing and jumping into black-plated
Terminus Armor, readying another handcannon, an assault rifle, and a
Cain M1 on my back.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With a thought, I blasted back the Seeker Swarms and leapt out of the
Warehouse, it sealing behind me. I then pivoted and returned to the
now normal threshold and threw several siege charges at it,
detonating them with practiced precision.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>BOOM BOOM BOOM!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-8LGaVBWBA125z9cl8PTf7t0Yz_bQqpPM8-Ockx6ylam7qyt2LSR9oe9aC9DlCujGepnBTywwOzkvNhyphenhyphenmV0XdDID9VmB-gWPX6brXP91tohnx1pO2LQuO5-xwXUByQL3MWFjZ4W6SDU/s1600/Matrix+Gunfight+gif.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-8LGaVBWBA125z9cl8PTf7t0Yz_bQqpPM8-Ockx6ylam7qyt2LSR9oe9aC9DlCujGepnBTywwOzkvNhyphenhyphenmV0XdDID9VmB-gWPX6brXP91tohnx1pO2LQuO5-xwXUByQL3MWFjZ4W6SDU/s1600/Matrix+Gunfight+gif.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I ran through the smoke, somehow knowing the breach was made, my
rifle at the ready position and remaining steady despite my breakneck
sprint. The Collectors were there to greet me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You Better Get Ready to Die!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>(Get Ready to Die!)</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My rifle sprayed hot death as it tore through the Collector soldiers,
my body naturally ducking, swerving and diving through enemy fire
with the practiced grace of an asari warrior, what little glancing
blows being deflected by the armor. With a thought I slammed a
Collector into the stance of one of their monstrosities, a large
insectoid like creature that was primed to fire a siege weapon at me.
It buckled. I threw out my hand and unleashed another wave of power,
detonating the lingering energy in the immediate area, crippling the
weapon and eviscerating the nearby warriors. Coming up next was an
elevator, I had to get to it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You Better Get Ready to Kill!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>(Get Ready to Kill!)</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the Collector's stood before me and the elevator, its eyes
began glowing with unnatural power.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i>ENOUGH OF THIS FOLLY! WE ARE ETERNAL! AND YOU WILL FALL LIKE
THE REST OF-”</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slid between its legs and slipped to the elevator behind the
Harbinger puppet, detonating my present behind him with my Omni-Tool.
I didn't even bother to see if it killed it or just annoyed it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I gazed up at the elevator shaft and found where I needed to go.
There were two more of those siege weapons primed to stop me. Blunt,
if a bit predictable.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You Better Get Ready to Run!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>'Cause Here I COOOOME!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I let all of my biotic might out, propelling my body like a spear
through the shaft, my stance ready for a devastating uppercut. Mere
seconds later I connected with the first siege weapon, my arm
striking it off the ground and turning it to the side. Its Collector
operator slammed into the ceiling with a harsh crunch. I landed on
the weapon and with a swift punch I struck something on the side of
the creature. It fired its blast at the weapon across from it,
showering the shaft with blue gooey chunks.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
An entire fireteam was already firing on me at the threshold. I let
the Terminus Armor tank the hits as I called up a biotic wave,
rocketing the soldiers from the ground into the walls with sickening
thuds. With them out of the way I was able to witness a Collector at
a control console, typing away frantically. On a hunch I ran forward,
propelling my body with my asari control. My hunch was rewarded when
the door to the elevator slammed shut behind me, complete with
additional walls of reinforced steel.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to power on through. But then I felt my legs fall out from
under me, and I dropped on all-fours. My chest on fire. Damn, my body
can't keep up with all of this....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You know life is over now,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Your life is running out,</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And now this music is taunting me. I don't even remember putting it
on. I couldn't even tell if it was on loop or not.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>When your time is at an end,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Then, it's time to kill again,</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I strained my vision up and saw that sole Collector wasn't alone.
There were dozens. Hundreds. All digging their chitinous legs in, the
glow of several dozen particle rifles warming up. And there was no
way to escape....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
… But there was a door behind me. A large one. In fact, it might
large enough....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM, get me moving now! I just need to get to the door!” I
reached out for my key and palmed it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Miss T'Som, if you keep going like this, your body will be broken
beyond repair.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm not gonna use my body. I got something else in mind!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A shot of energy coursed through my veins and I could feel my body
becoming lucid again. I ran towards the insulated door, my key at the
ready. It yielded and I fell into my Warehouse once again, a rain of
death pattering behind me against the barrier.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Widen the aperture.” I said outloud, working on a hunch. The
small door like entrance expanded to the full width of the elevator.
Perfect.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM... upload mental profile of Jeff “Joker” Moreau.” I
declared, stepping in front of my parked shuttle. My Omni-Tool
switching to a sautering function as I picked up several experimental
portable shield generators....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The shuttle rocked through the Collector's trench. My vision blinded
by the hail of particle beams, explosive rockets, and biotic energy
discharge. I felt the bodies rattle against the fuselage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You better get ready to run,</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>'Cause here we COOOOME!!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> </i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Yeah! Whatchoo got bitches!” I
taunted as countless more Collectors were blindsided by my battering
ram. I laughed in triumph! This is better than showing up those
ableist sons of bitches back at the Academy, that's for damn sure!</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I swerved the shuttle back and forth, keeping its course more on
feeling than just pure training. I always seemed to have this sixth
sense, and man am I putting it through the paces now. I could see the
glowing lights of the command consoles of the ship's bridge in this
distance. Just a little further....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I felt the shuttle snap in half. My chair was thrown backwards
in a rush, the front half of the shuttle crumpling against the mass
of...something. As my seat clattered to the floor, I slammed bodily
nearby. I could hear several bones popping, damn brittle bone
disease....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
… wait, I don't have that....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shook my head and looked at what was responsible. I didn't know
exactly what type of Collector it was, all I knew was that it was
large, was pulsing with blue energy, and had so many human-looking
faces popping out of it it would give Cronenberg nightmares.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shut off the Andrew W. K. and slipped away from the ship's
wreckage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<i>YOUR MEANINGLESS REBELLION COMES TO AN END NOW. ONCE THE
CRUCIBLE IS IN OUR POSSESSION, THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE.”</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM...upload mental profile...Kasumi Goto,” I gasped to
myself....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With a quick press of a button I cast off the outer shell of my
armor, leaving only the form-fitting catsuit on me. I then uploaded
my stealth field application to the Omni-Tool while moving my dummy
shell back to the pilot's seat. I felt the entity move, closing in to
confirm its kill no doubt. The stealth field clicked on and I began
to sprint, moving past the multiple spider-like appendages of the
towering monstrosity.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I finally made it to the command console... after slicing the necks
of the Collectors standing in front of them, and began cutting into
it with my Omni-Tool, amplifying the signal. I then got a hold of the
ship's life-support systems. I had to ensure my safety somehow, and
this seemed appropriate. I heard a distant crunch from the corridor.
My decoy was spotted. I immediately activated an emergency shutdown
on the door to the bridge. But before it could close, the pincers of
the beats pried it open. It roared in fury, the force rattling my
frame and causing my ears to bleed, all sound became just a
high-pitched ping.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then pushed a few more buttons on the dashboard and felt myself
attempt to say, “O<i>mae wa mou shindeiru.”</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> </i>The vacuum of space erupted throughout the Collector ship as
all the bay doors opened. The creature lost what little footing it
had left as its body was forcibly torn in multiple directions from
open exposure at multiple points. Then I remembered that the maglev
units were left on my now destroyed Terminus Armor as my body lost
contact with the ground, it flying towards the ungodly creature and a
burial at space.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Guess this is like the Belko Heist all over again. I unclipped my
hand cannon and began firing several shots at the large pincers still
holding on for dear life to the door, the slowly widening portal to
nothing claiming the remainder of the Collector crew. One shot, two
shots, three shots, four shots. Dammit, nothing was working....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I unhooked the Cain M1 and took one last fiery shot with it. The
flaming ball of death soared through the door and connected with the
monster, throwing it back and allowing the door to close.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But not before the flaming heat of the radiated blast slipped its
way through to cook me. My body connected with the door with the
force of a sledgehammer, my impromptu shield redistributing the
kinetic force just enough to not snap my neck or spine. But the pain
was just enough to leave me slumped against the wall. My only comfort
was hearing the radiation-cooked horror on the other side finally get
launched into the void.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM...make sure the signal keeps going, prep for radiation
treatment and burns...and dispel the mental profiles,” I panted,
“I'm...gonna pass out now...”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't hear a response from SAM. That... makes sense. Too many
processes all at once, I probably softlocked it. Wait... that's not
how AI works... does it?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to face the door behind me and fished out my key. Oh well,
maybe I can limp my way to the house and nurse this headache with a
soda. As the Warehouse once again opened itself up to me, I made my
way as carefully as I could inside. Within two steps I was on my
face, my limbs losing all feeling, the cold concrete floor oddly
refreshing on my face. I then heard several heavy footsteps
approaching me. I felt two pairs of arms lift me up. Not warm and
inviting arms but rigid and precise metallic precision. Robots.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3AWvHporsN9wthmXArRXl2Es7wc9dk0qBLQTuIJV9y1M761vsE6rsPfDe5KnJ-fYHTOMBhVTsBB5bDSOYhPkJc8Iry2m4bZFGxf64lk4qMzdq8Uk0dWz39QWhsuHPqibN3xBYOFmOpE/s1600/Mass+Effect+Andromeda+Medbay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3AWvHporsN9wthmXArRXl2Es7wc9dk0qBLQTuIJV9y1M761vsE6rsPfDe5KnJ-fYHTOMBhVTsBB5bDSOYhPkJc8Iry2m4bZFGxf64lk4qMzdq8Uk0dWz39QWhsuHPqibN3xBYOFmOpE/s1600/Mass+Effect+Andromeda+Medbay.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jumper, you appear to have suffered a lethal dosage of radiation
and severe burns, as well as several broken limbs and some internal
bleeding,” one of the robots spoke, the tone tinny but... it
weirdly sounded like Jump.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...don't feel burned.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Your AI implants must have disabled pain receptors for the sake of
comfort and battle efficiency,”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh...that makes sense.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We will begin measures to repair the damage but can promise
nothing.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Medi-Gel...salve for the burns...”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't hear what the robots said next, as my hearing began to
falter. Soon after my vision finally faded to black and sleep
mercifully overcame me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Asari brandy please.” A voice called out. Like a shock to my
system I was back at the Cybertavern. Damn, it needed a serious
dusting. I was behind the counter, a bottle of liquor and a glass
tumbler in front of me. But... no one was sitting at the counter. It
was just me, the sole source of light being a modest ceiling fan
above.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You gonna make me wait or not? Man, the service here sucks.” the
voice called out again. The tone infuriatingly neutral with its flat
tones.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On reflex I reached out to the bottle to open it... only to see that
my arm was a flickering mass of static and white noise. If it wasn't
horrifying it would have looked like an effect in a cheesy 80s music
video. I pulled back in shock, the hair on my neck standing on
end...if I had any. I could feel my breathing quickening as my other
hand grasped the back of my neck on reflex. It felt...something.
Hair? Tendril cartilidge? A cap? A clothed hood?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ah. There it is. I'll do it myself.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked up from my facsimile of an arm in horror, only to see...an
asari. She looked strangely familiar, wearing an athletic jogger's
get-up, black sleeveless top and simple gray sweatpants, her build
somewhere between a model and an amateur MMA fighter. But it was the
face that told a story all on its own. Brow wrinkled and creased with
worry and stress, scars and cuts peppered throughout that hinted at
my close scrapes, and an exhausted look in the eyes that made her
look ready to just lie down and sleep til Judgment Day.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She crammed her arm behind the counter and pulled back an unlabeled
bottle. Before I could protest, she flicked her finger and the
stopper flew off. In another quick gesture, her tumbler was full of a
clear light-blue liquid and began nursing it. I tried to speak, to
tell her off, but it was like trying to scream underwater.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Boy, let me tell you, I have been having myself quite a day,”
she sighed after wetting her lips, “struggling to maintain a
weapons manufacturing company, coordinating with an information
broker to assist in multiple ongoing military operations, and trying
to keep my head above water, that would mess up just about any normal
sane person. But then you throw in something as tempermental as a
neurologically-implanted AI that can just mess around with your head,
and you got yourself a recipe for insanity.” I swear she winked at
me on that last phrase. She gave a sly smile while nursing her glass.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, I mean when I was at the Academy, I always got looks from
people wondering what I was doing there,” a second voice joined in,
“Wanting to be a pilot but can't go down the stairs without
worrying about a shattered pelvis. That's what good old fashioned
determination, dedication, and spite is for. But just mixing and
matching decades of experience into your brain and thinking it'll be
painless and seamless? Sloppy, real sloppy.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
An older human was in the chair next to the asari. Light brown
stubby beard, and wearing a baseball cap with the Alliance Navy's
logo on it. Somehow, he already had a gin and tonic in front of him
in a novelty Looney Toons glass; the outside shaped to look like the
face of Bugs Bunny.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My head began to ring with pain, as if multiple tiny metal needles
began jamming it in quick sharp thrusts. For a brief instant, I think
I was at the other end of the bar, addressing some sad paper cut-out
of a person, before snapping back to my position.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“To master the battle arts of a Justicar takes centuries of
discipline,” a third voice floated in, one more authoritative than
snide, “it is more than just knowing the moves and how to move,
it's the conditioning that comes with those centuries of practice. If
one acts without the proper body, it could lead to serious damage.”
Justicar Samara sat to my right side. No drink in hand, but a glass
of iced water appeared in front of her.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Plus, memories aren't just facts, figures and gestures,” Kasumi
whispered in my ear, “they're strongly tied to emotions, stories,
fears, flashes of intimate personality. You can't have one without
the other.” I felt several bottles leave from the counter before a
hooded woman appeared at a table far away. “After all, who are we
if not the sum total of our experiences?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Which begs the question...who are we talking to right now?” I
felt them cry in unison. I raised my hand to gesture towards the
inquisitive crowd, only to see my arm flicker between salarian,
quarian, and human digits. The tavern drained of color and my patrons
began fading together like a whirlpool of color. </div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I....who am I?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Jumper...</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol type="I">
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jumper... what?</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Jumper, wake up...</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What the hell have I done to myself!?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Jumper, you need to wake up!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I snapped awake in the medbay, the melody of several beeping monitors
greeting me. I looked down at myself and checked my features. Blue
arms, head tentacles, female anatomy.... Right, I'm asari. I shook my
head and got out of the medical bed, the tools used to monitor me
tied more to sensors on the bed than intrusive IV needles. After
stumbling for a moment I managed to get my footing and made my way
towards the Warehouse threshold back into the Collector ship.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jumper, your radiation and burns have been treated and we just
finished setting and restoring your broken bones, but we must
recommend bed rest.” I heard one of the robots demand. “At the
rate you have been pushing your mind and body, you are heading
towards permanent physical impediment, or worse a psychotic break or
indeterminate fugue state. If you go out there now, you are on
borrowed time.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Borrowed time? Time limit... The Reapers!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDQomdqx7_34oYXRlLMHtH_tyFqpdJZoXPo3F11w29XSXNa7iLYCy3YLlYHsCmex22Dv7oUyxwYh5OLPuG7166h8ywST0W3vPdyot7L2RAG2AeE3w88jTk0gR0EnHOi-ZDaTDzFETd_0/s1600/Mass+Effect+Reapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDQomdqx7_34oYXRlLMHtH_tyFqpdJZoXPo3F11w29XSXNa7iLYCy3YLlYHsCmex22Dv7oUyxwYh5OLPuG7166h8ywST0W3vPdyot7L2RAG2AeE3w88jTk0gR0EnHOi-ZDaTDzFETd_0/s320/Mass+Effect+Reapers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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“Have to inform the Alliance,” I groaned as I continued my trek
towards the doorway. “They have to activate the Crucible now. Or
else they're going to be facing down the entire Reaper armada in a
matter of hours.”
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I stopped at the threshold. “And if that thing goes, we're all dead
anyway.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jumper, please, you need to think long-term.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Thanks for the patch-up, but I have some friends who need me.” I
stepped through, and the door to the Warehouse reverted back to the
airtight emergency doors. And just like changing logs on the
Extranet, SAM once again chimed into my ear.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Miss T'Som, are you alright?</i> it asked. It took me a beat to
realize he meant me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Pretty sure I have a migraine that could kill a krogan, other than
that I'm just peachy.” I remarked, making my way towards the
command bridge, “how about the SOS and the message to the Alliance?
Do we have any responses and are there any ships in the immediate
area?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Unfortunately we are far off from any Mass Relay or station that
could pick up the signal. And it seems that whatever star formations
are nearby are difficult to cross-reference with star charts without
me being connected to the Normandy's AI Hub given your limited
knowledge of the maps. It seems that whatever the Reapers wanted out
of you, they wanted to ensure that no one would interfere.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So what you're saying is... we're dead in the water out here.” I
exhaled, deflated.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>I'm afraid so.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slumped against the carapaced command consoles in defeat. Even with
the Warehouse providing water and food, I doubt it also renews what
little breathable air is on the bridge. Going by human standards and
counting the space of the Warehouse itself, that would mean I'd have
about six days and some change before I'd start to suffocate. And by
that time, chances are the Reapers will have already overwhelmed all
of the Core Races' military and then... game over. No one's going to
hear the signal out here, and a single person can't control and pilot
a dreadnaught of this size, especially someone with no formal
training or familiarity with the Collector's architecture.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm trapped. And the only people who know that I'm even gone are
working on a very cold trail.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“So much for going down in a blaze of glory,” I mutter to myself,
face in my hands.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>I can still put together that signal Miss T'Som. We won't know
whose out there unless we try...</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah... might as well have false hope rather than no hope.” I
reply, moving over to a console and allowing SAM to interface with
the beacon through my Omni-Tool. It took about two minutes of
flashing green lights over the holographic interface, but the signal
was boosted.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a few minutes too many I asked the obvious question, “What
exactly is the pre-recorded message the beacon is sending out?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's the chorus of Dolly Parton's Nine to Five on loop. I have a
feeling if Shepard or the others hear that, they'll know it's you.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I caught myself laughing harder than I expected. “Guess I'll get
that bedrest after all,”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to face the sealed door and started fishing out the
Warehouse key again. Then... I heard a low teeth-chatter droning
buzz. It felt like the whole ship was vibrating from the buzz.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No. Not here.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM, give me outside visual!” I barked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A vid screen popped up, and I saw them. Reapers. At least six. All
flying towards the ship, their maws glowing an ominous blood red,
crackling with destructive power.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Miss T'Som, I estimate it will take about two minutes for them to
get into firing range. What are we going to do?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...I...I'm going to die.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>What about your Warehouse? Can you hide in there?</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The image of the exit to the Warehouse disintegrating in a red
explosion with me still in it played out in my head, followed by my
suffocation. I felt my fingers fumble the key as it hit the ground
with a light ding.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Variza, what's the plan?</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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“I DON'T HAVE ONE!” I screamed in terror.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I dropped to my knees and tried to slow my breathing. Kept playing
scenarios out in my head. Trying to find some way out. And I kept
seeing death.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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I failed. It's over....</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Variza, open the airlock behind you and suit up.” I heard a
voice break through on my comms. He sounded familiar.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I had to have cracked, “what?” I replied in astonishment.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Get your spacesuit on and shoot yourself into the vacuum. Your
ride's here.” the voice repeated in his surly devil-may-care why.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Joker?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Don't make me tell you a third time! Those Reapers are gonna blow
us up in a minute and change so we have to go now!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Holy shit!!” I exclaimed, letting out a manic laugh as I reached
my hand into my suit's pocket, naturally fishing out the Warehouse
key again and entering once again. I jumped into my last suit of
armor, slapping on a helmet and sealing it. I didn't have time to
check the make or model it was literally the last thing left among
the scattered empty crates and boxes of expended power cells and
thermal clips. I leapt through the threshold back to the ship and
recalled my key.</div>
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“SAM, DO THE THING!” I screamed.
</div>
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It was clearly ahead of me since the doors opened an instant later. I
was sucked through with the force of the vacuum of space and I was
greeted by the blurred mass of the Collector ship followed shortly by
the infinite void, my muffled breathing my only company. The boosters
on the suit stabilizing my chaotic flailing as the uncaring pull of
space tossed me around.</div>
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Then I saw a shape taking form in front of me. The familiar four
thrusters of its engine. The cargo ramp lowered with the noticeable
shimmer of an atmosphere generator surrounding it. And it was angled
in just the right way. The <i>SSV Normandy</i> was here to catch me!
Dammit Joker you really are the best!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I banked my body and kept re-orienting my direction with my suit's
jets, the ramp getting closer and closer, my pulse rising. Just as I
was worried about my entry speed, I saw two people stepping out onto
the ramp: Jack and Samara. Both of them holding out their hands
coursing with biotic power. I got the idea and floored it with the
jets, the G-force slamming on my body like a rollercoaster from Hell,
the ramp getting larger and larger. And right when I thought I was
going to crash into the metal and asphyxiate, I felt my body slow and
stop, my rescuers glowing with violet energy.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Joker, we got her! Go Go Go!” Jack barked as Samara guided me
into the Normandy's cargo bay. The doors closed, the ramp sealed up,
I felt the ship lurch like it was being fired out of a cannon, and we
were off.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
Despite my protests, Jack and Samara carried me to medbay for
examination.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Please, I have to talk to Shepard,” I muttered,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Variza, as your friend, I'm telling you to stop putting on all
this responsibility and look after yourself.” Jack protested while
tossing me bodily on the examination table.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Jack, please stop roughly handling my patients,” Dr. Chakwas
commented with rote exasperation.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Have we...met before?” I gasped to the doctor.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Oh dear, she's worse than I thought. We need to link up her SAM
implants to the central node, should help me get a better idea of
what's going on in there.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
Then I heard SAM whisper in the back of my mind. The phrase turned
my blood to ice.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<i>Miss T'Som, are you familiar with the story of the Trojan Horse?</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i> </i>The Reapers...they had a back-up plan in case I escaped. How
long was I out? Plenty enough to place something in the implants?
Indoctrination? No it would take far too long without more intrusive
augmentation. Wait, think more simple. SAM's implants are hard wired
into every single member of the crew here, from the deep muscle to
their circulatory system... oh god....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Doctor... kill...” I tried to scream but the last of my energy
was starting to leave me, the mental exhaustion beginning to take its
toll.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“You won't die Miss T'Som, I'm a professional,” she stated with
warm confidence as she went to connect some wires to the bed and
pulled up readings from my implants. I turned in terror to get Jack's
attention, only to see that she was long gone, distant klaxons and
flashes of red outside the medbay signal high alert. And I just heard
a low whoosh coming from the bed which meant the suspension field was
now active on it. Great, not only is Joker pulling off some insane
maneuvers to keep the Reapers from killing us, I'm strapped to a bed
so I can't prevent the Reapers from killing us. And I just got out of
my own Warehouse's medbay. The repetition made things even worse!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
Think, there has to be someone here not connected to SAM who can
help...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">Miss
T'Som, I'm sorry but they were very thorough with getting through my
defenses. If it's any consolation, it was an honor to serve with you
and all organic races in the time that I did.</span></i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;">Organic...that's
it!</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“I. Need. To. Speak. To. Legion. Immediately.” I barked out,
hearing my back pop several times during the process. Doctor Chakwas
took one look on my face and her expression changed slightly.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Is it...mission critical?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I nodded. She opened up her Omni-Tool and pressed several glowing
panels. Then I saw her switch to her datapad and saw my readings.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Oh my goodness, your neural readings are a total mess.
Disassociative, severe memory loss. Surprised you still remember my
name. The node should have your mental profile so if we just get to a
proper uplink we should be able sort yourself out.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Wait.” I choked out.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Miss T'Som if you don't get this handled soon you could up
comatose or worse, now what exactly is so bad about...” her voice
trailed off as she saw the data pad light up with little red
exclamation marks.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Joker, we have a serious problem here! Some sort of malware has
infiltrated the-ahhhhh!!” she began to scream in pain, holding her
head in agony.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
An instant later the pain hit me as well. Like someone had pumped
miniature drills into my blood vessels and brain and someone told
them to go nuts. I wanted to move, to struggle, but all I could do
was lie suspended on the bed, suffering. Come on Legion, where are
you? If this attack doesn't kill us, the Reapers will just blast us
apart in the chaos.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I don't know how long I was waiting but when I saw the
headlight-face of Legion's geth frame I could have laughed in
triumph.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Variza T'Som, I was informed you have critical information for
us. We also have concluded it will help prevent our current dire
situation.” It monotoned in its robotic tinny voice.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I nodded. “SAM. Virus. Hurting the crew. Help us.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
Legion turned in the general direction of where the node was on the
Normandy, somewhere on the third deck if I recalled properly, then
turned back to face me.<br />
“You are giving us permission to
interface with SAM and the Normandy's more vital systems in hopes of
countering this Reaper virus. Acknowledged. Please know that there is
a great chance that the virus might infect our operating systems as
well. In the case of that happening, we will preserve ourselves by
any means necessary, including destroying the node and this
platform.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
I tried to nod again but was struck again by another surge of pain,
the feeling in my arms and legs fading.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Acknowledged.” Legion responded. Then he sprinted out of the
medbay with stiff robotic agility.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
With any luck, the Reaper's virus won't affect Legion as much as the
others. They believe that organic and synthetic life can't co-exist
so the geth might just be the key to saving us.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
After a few moments, the pain immediately stopped. Doctor Chakwas
slowly got to her feet, bleeding from her nose.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“What just... happened?” she clutched the side of the bed and
hoisted herself up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
“Attention Normandy crew, this is the one designated Legion.” a
familiar synth voice spoke across the public comm systems, “The
Reapers have infected Miss T'Som's SAM implants and have been
spreading it to the rest of the crew using the SAM node. For safety
purposes I have shut down any and all SAM interfacing with key
members of the crew as not to impede our escape from the Reaper
warships. We shall continue our attempts to contain this virus but
will terminate the node if all attempts fail.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Doctor Chakwas looked at me in horror and uttered a curse under her
breath. But then she quickly composed herself and started pulling out
medi-gel and other medication from the cabinet and got to work. God I
could kiss her the way she just pulled herself back together. She
quickly rattled off what she was doing to offset the damage done by
the Reaper virus, half of it I barely understood, but what strength I
had lost from the attack was almost completely back in full.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It didn't take long for her to slump into a chair, exhausted while
the various gels and fluids pumping into me started working their
magic, a second pair of the same hooked up to herself.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Get me out of this field, Doctor,” I replied after a while, “we
need to get the others here as well.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We can't.” she gestured outside the medbay windows. I looked
over to see anything that wasn't bolted down flying about, various
instruments were sparking, and there were even signs of other crewmen
spasming and screaming in pain from the virus attack.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If we go out there we'll be battered by the chaos going on
there,” several shocks rippled throughout the ship, “and Joker is
clearly pulling out all the stops just to keep us alive. As much as I
hate to say this as a doctor, we can't do anything until we're out of
here.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I swore out loud, but eventually understood. So I closed my eyes and
tried to take stock of everything. Then after my head started hurting
again I just went back to the big problem: stopping the Reapers from
reaching the Crucible first. It didn't matter if the thing was
finished or not, it had to be activated, combined with the Citadel
and fired. They want to eliminate all organic life in the Milky
Way...but they also desire to use me as a vehicle to carry the
Reapers into other worlds. And for that they need me alive to
indoctrinate and reprogram.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh dear god I'm as important to them as Shepard now. Two equally
important targets, keys to their ultimate goals, and all of our
allies are honing in one place, and all I have to work with now is a
key to a Warehouse....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I kept going over other possibilities for my plan, iterating on it.
I only had one shot at this, and it had to work. It. Had. To. Work.
Who cares if I can't remember anything important like my birthday or
where I was born or how exactly I got this weird Warehouse key, all
that mattered was firing that damn weapon and ending this cycle once
and for all. Whoever the hell is still kicking around in this skull
of mine, that is something we can all agree on.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After about ten minutes of relative silence the klaxons and red
lights ceased and the suspension field de-activated. I practically
jumped out and made my way to the bridge, ignoring Chakwas' protests
as I made way.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To put it charitably, the Normandy was fucked. The bridge was a mass
of shredded metal, flickering and glitching displays, and flaming
slag. There were too many bodies to count, the med bay looked more
like a morgue than an actual place of healing when clean-up started
happening. The SAM node was destroyed, Legion's frame was hanging
limply near it, its singular eye flashing and flickering while
various internal parts whirred and whined at a fevered pitch. If I
had to guess, some serious calculations were happening with the aid
of the geth collective for...something.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joker was basically keeping the ship together through shear grit and
willpower since the shaking from the battle had messed up his arms
and legs. The only real reason why we were even still alive was we
were still at FTL speeds via a mass relay and all of the barriers and
countermeasures for such travel were kept online by a combo of
jerryrigged patch jobs by what remained of the engineering crew and
Tali working her magic on the ship's eezo core. I understood maybe
half of what she was saying, but her exasperation made it clear it
was nothing short of being held together with duct tape and positive
thinking.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What remained of the team gathered in the War Room, and Shepard did
his best to keep spirits high. I hardly heard any of his rousing
speech.. But the gist was simple. With SAM taken offline and
everything fried, the Normandy was cut off from the Alliance. We
couldn't get back up, and despite the urgent message that was sent to
all the other race's military leaders, the united defense will be
helter skelter at best due to distance, occupation, and...viable
numbers. On the bright side, it meant that with everyone's implants
disabled, whatever hacking the Reapers did to me meant they couldn't
reliably track the Normandy again, so its stealth capabilities should
work for us again. All we knew were the Reapers were making their way
towards the Crucible in an attempt to destroy it, and one of us had
to be there to activate it. Right into the thick of the entire might
of the Reapers putting its final nail into the entire Milky Way's
coffin.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In other words, it was yet another suicide mission with Commander
Shepard. What else is new?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So...does anyone have any ideas?” Shepard inquired, gesturing
broadly towards everyone.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Honestly...no,” Wrex spoke up, “put me on the ground with the
enemy in front of me, I can give you at least seven different ways to
take them apart. But naval combat? Not for me.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Turian navy protocal would have us rendezvous with a more
equipped war ship to relay tactical information and regroup...but
that would take time we don't have.” Garrus sounded deflated on the
final phrase, his metallic jaw twitching in discomfort.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The engines are barely holding together as it is. Pushing them
any further for speed just isn't going to work.” Tali added.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard took a deep breath... then quickly slammed his fist in
anger. I finally raised my hand.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh here we go,” I heard Jack snipe.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“First... we need to get in contact with the geth,” I spoke up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Legion?” Shepard asked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No... the geth.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The door to the War Room opened, and in walked Legion.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance?” he spoke in SAM's voice.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I flashed a toothy smile, “Oh my gosh... that might work better
than I thought,”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What do you have in mind?” Thane asked, his hands crossed under
his chin in quiet contemplation.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It... might involve a lot of us never coming back. Just letting
you know now.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have made my peace with Kaluhira, Miss T'Som, whatever happens
next I accept gladly,” Thane smiled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There are worse ways to go,” Wrex casually readied his shotgun
and started examining it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, and better to do it fighting,” Jack growled with a
wolfish grin.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright... let's hear this plan.” Shepard remarked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And so I told them. The steps, the intent, and every little trick
inbetween</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You're insane,” Garrus intoned.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That whole plan is insane!” Tali exclaimed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It is highly unorthodox.” SAM concurred.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;">
“Let's do it!” Shepard projected.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The geth ships undocked from the Normandy, what little skills they
could add to keep that heap together were focused on the engines and
the hull. We had to be as maneuverable as possible if we were going
to get the Reapers to bite. I hunched into the corner, my armor
tight, my helmet on, double-checking the settings on my guns and
trying to take some deep breaths. Thane and Jack were next to me,
readying themselves as well. I could hear Thane making prayers to his
gods, while Jack kept rubbing her hands together and occasionally
scratching her hair in impatience.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why the hell did I let this ponytail grow out again?” I heard
her mutter.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard, is everyone in position?” I spoke over the comms.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, and the makeshift cryo pod made from SAM's blueprints seems
to be holding together.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, and all it took was completely breaking down the Mako for
parts and disassembling all of the freezer units.” Tali mused.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Okay...” I pulled up a holo display on my Omni-Tool, displaying
the Normandy and my Kodiak Shuttle. “Once we pull out of FTL space,
the shuttle team will deploy and make their way towards the Crucible.
Hopefully by then, it will already start interfacing with the
Citadel. Normandy team will run distraction while playing the message
on all channels. There's a chance we won't have nearly enough cover
fire from the core races' navies so pilots use what you can. Debris,
nebulas, whatever you can.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And what about your fancy doomsday devices, Variza? The ones you
said you were packing away for this very situation?” Jack asked. I
could hear the fear through her teeth.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...put most of them near Earth I... didn't think things would
become this unpredictable.” Images of a blasted war-torn hellscape
on Earth flashed through my eyes, Shepard leading a ground team
towards some beam of energy created by the Crucible, followed by the
deadly red destruction of Reaper fire. A bombastic battle that will
now never happen.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...that's just great.” Jack spat.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. I honestly
can't blame you for trying to think ahead Variza,” Wrex patted my
shoulder, the weight of his armored hand almost knocking me off my
feet.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Comms were then disabled. We couldn't let the Reapers know what
would happen next. So I kept my eyes on the display, the Normandy and
shuttle floating in front of me. Various bumps and strikes rocked the
outside, we were in the thick of it now.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRg4DPvQDzOqYuIQT1REMl21elc60FEzsxQnSiRq1nWSAjCXISW-R4749R52RRtTMB-sLi6EfWvp0IJfJO5PnFUmcR_jXBXnVbZzu_ivw16E8VOD-hkkJif8B2sf84rnW99S7vCWuhjwE/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shuttle.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="894" data-original-width="1600" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRg4DPvQDzOqYuIQT1REMl21elc60FEzsxQnSiRq1nWSAjCXISW-R4749R52RRtTMB-sLi6EfWvp0IJfJO5PnFUmcR_jXBXnVbZzu_ivw16E8VOD-hkkJif8B2sf84rnW99S7vCWuhjwE/s320/Mass+Effect+Shuttle.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Step one: Play the message.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Attention to the entire Reaper War Machine and to Harbinger in
particular. This is Variza T'Som. I know what you're about to do, and
we both know I don't have the firepower or the artillery available
right here to stop you. But we do know this: If I die, you lose
access to your only chance to spread your order to the rest of the
multiverse. So if you want me, come and get me!</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Step two: Scramble the Normandy and the shuttle. There can be no
discernible differences in readable life signs across both vessels.
The Reapers can't know which one has me in it. And geth don't show up
on bio censors, so SAM is able to pilot one using Joker's skills,
while another geth copies the template and does the same. As far as
the Reapers know, both ships are helmed by pilots of equal skill. And
since they are more focused on eliminating organic life, the synths'
involvement might give us the advantage we need.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Step Three: Wait to see if they take the bait. The hold rattled and
rocked. I felt the others' anxious glances on me as things got more
intense. Logically, the Normandy is the ideal military vessel. It
successfully assaulted the Collector base, has stealth readings for
mundane censors outside of just blatantly looking out and physically
seeing the thing, and has the superior shields and armor compared to
the dinky shuttle. Ideally, it would be the vessel to house either
Shepard or me to the Crucible. The Kodiak meanwhile is a simple
civilian vessel with no real tactical importance whatsoever. It could
very easily be destroyed. Even if it did make it to the Crucible, the
Reapers could easily gun down the small strike team due to the
shuttle's small size.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is exactly what I was counting on. A large groaning of metal
and industrial screeching rumbled around us. And I heard the horrific
buzzing of a Reaper's signal, the kind that made the most hardened
soldiers crumble to nothing. And I heard him in my head....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It is time to end this foolishness. Only a madman would dare to
breach the perimeter with a simple vessel. Your bluff has failed you
Variza T'Som. Both you and Shepard will now fall to our cycle, as
countless trillions have before you.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Yeah...it's a good thing Shepard
and most of the crew isn't here right now.” I muttered to myself.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then Wrex barged through the open door with an armored foot and
stepped out to face the interior of Harbinger. Waves upon waves of
converted humans jumped onto him, their flesh blue and covered in
twisted metal appendages. Wrex screamed as he hip-fired his shotgun
with one hand while unleashing his own biotic power with his
other.hand.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the converted krogan showed themselves. Hulking monsters of
contorted muscle and horrific brutal strength. They came down on Wrex
like gorillas, pounding away at him. That's when Thane and Jack
leaped in, their own biotic power charged and ready to strike. In a
loud explosion of swirling blue energy, the monstrosities were thrown
off of Wrex. They slowly spread out, but not completely leaving the
ship's immediate area, firing prothean laser and anything and
everything that moved.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As for me, I stayed near the threshold, my hand wavering near the
door the Wrex had removed, even finding time to lift it and re-attach
it to the Normandy's threshold. Harbinger spoke once again.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>So, you chose the irrational path in the end after all. It matters
not. Our forces will destroy the Crucible, with Shepard on it, and
then we will deal with you. You have failed. And once we are done
with you, you will regret you resisted as long as you have. That is
our promise to you. For we are your evolution, your future, your
salvation from the horrors to come. And soon, all will see this
truth.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You know what...I do have regrets,” I began. My hand on my
holstered SMG. “I never got to see Earth in this era, see what it
looked like after two centuries of beautiful unity and cooperation. I
never had a chance to just live a normal life, take things in because
I was so focused on dealing with you. I regret not figuring out what
was going with that secret ops group Shepard was the head of. Hell,
I'm pretty sure he stopped having the rank of Commander long ago,”
I stepped further to the door, readying my gun and taking deep
breaths. “I regret not finding love, or at the very least an
intimate friend for Joker. Then again that's what happens when
Cerberus doubles down on their bullshit. Hell, that's another regret
right there: not getting to see The Illusive Man's face when we
dismantled his organization and threw in his face the idea that
humanity standing alone is more noble than us standing together as
one.” I smiled, and started rubbing my fingers together, like a
gunslinger ready to draw at any moment.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But you know what I won't regret? The satisfaction in proving you
wrong with one hell of a rebuttal. Shepard...are we in position?” I
spoke into my comms.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We're all grounded and pinned down a bit. Is it time?” He came
through a little garbled, but I heard him clearly enough.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good. Now!” I yelled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Step Four: Unleash the Trojan Horse. While it was clear that Shepard
and his team traveling in the Kodiak Shuttle would be damn near
suicidal, Shepard would have made it clear to present Alliance navy
to prioritize them landing on the Crucible, meaning a lot of support
fire would happen. As for the ground assault, things got to be a
little creative.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>What...is this?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, you tell me, Harbinger. You were in my head,” I smiled ear
to ear.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Warehouse? Impossible. Nothing can live inside it without you
being present. And the key returns to you if it is considered lost.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“True, but let's say the door to the Warehouse in question was
within a cryo stasis pod? Granting a form of suspended animation to
those within?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I heard the escalated attacks on Shepards end of the comms. What
was at first the dull roar of a pitched firefight turned into a
hellish soundscape of explosions and destruction. With Shepard
yelling to push forward.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, and that whole thing you said about organic and synthetic life
being incompatible. Here's my rebuttal. The geth. Aren't. Organic.
And you can fit a lot of geth war machines and artillery into
ten-thousand square feet of pocket dimension warehouse.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, the reinforcements are out and they're holding back the
Reaper bombardment! We're pushing forward to the Crucible's central
controls now!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard, T'Som, this is Admiral Hackett, Alliance military. Our
blockade is holding for now but Shepard you better double-time it. We
will hold the line with all we have!” A third voice barked over the
comms.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Copy that Shepard. Just make your big decision count, you big
goddamned hero.” I chuckled. I then held out my free hand.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Gee, I wonder where my Warehouse key is?” I asked out loud, only
to have it appear in my open hand. A beat later, I plunged it into
the Normandy's door, and the rest of the geth began to pour out.
Ground troops, massive colossi, Geth Primes, more than I could count
spewing superheated death on Harbinger's legions and forming on Wrex,
Thane, and Jack.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The geth? Yet another insignificant obstacle in our goals. We have
hacked their systems before. It will happen again. And this shallow
attempt at a revolution shall end here.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The inside of the ship glowed with a sinister red, and I saw the
metal innards of Harbinger shift as hundreds more of his converted
thralls poured out to challenge my fireteam. And I began to feel the
fear hit me. Harbinger was right...we're dead.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the geth...kept fighting. I didn't know what had happened. Then I
noticed something, the facelights on the geth. They were all
different colors. And their armor, each platform seemed to have their
own personal flourishes. Fabric from a quarian suit. Padded pauldrons
like a krogan's back hump. Lithe athletic frames not unlike a deadly
asari commando. What in the world was going on?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That may have been true before, Harbinger, but we have seen a new
way,” A voice came in unity from the geth, “as one, we were
united, but uniform and easy to divide. But now with SAM, we have
adapted the adaptive matrix and with it, the minds of organic life,
in all of their capacities. Like our brothers and sisters, we have
learned and grown. Unique, but united.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My jaw hit the floor. Holy shit...they got the best of both worlds.
The coordination of the geth collective but retaining distinct
individual senses of personal self, using the profiles of SAM and the
latent sense of self Legion was developing. Hacking that would take
too long. Damn, SAM...you just saved our butts.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Just as planned!” I lied out my ass.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the battle raged. The geth demonstrated their newfound skills of
cooperation at the speed of thought mixed with improvisation and
rapidfire microplanning. Thane, Wrex, and Jack fell back and
supported them with biotic might and the occasional blast of
artillery from our preciously small supply of power cells. The hoards
of Harbinger's converted thralls were slowly being pushed back as the
ominous red glow continued to rise in intensity, the very walls
shaking with palpable rage and disgust. In fact the glow was starting
to make the various cords, wires, and mechanical innards look more
and more like blood vessels and veins.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard, what's your status!?” I yelled over the heat of the
battle, barely managing to pop the heads off two human thralls
attempting to rush me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I can see a beam of light. Some sort of transport tube that leads
straight to the Crucible's main controls. The artillery support is
giving us some cover but we're basically playing Red Light, Green
Light over here. You?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We are literally fighting for our lives inside a mechanical
eldritch horror fighting things collected from trillions of years of
techno-horror harvest just so we can play a distraction. Silver
lining, I think I accidentally ascended the geth.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Accidentally?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doesn't matter! It's working!” I exclaimed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then heard a gun shot on Shepard's end, and heard him clatter to
the ground. I called out several times.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza?” I heard Jack call out.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard, you alright?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I just got winged, it's fine!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pulled myself away from the conversation to see Wrex was about to
be telekinetically gutted by an asari thrall. I threw several
grenades from my belt after signaling Jack. Several satisfying booms
later and Wrex continued his rampage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hackett, what's the fleet's status?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Dropping fast. But do not worry about us. This is our duty, and we
will stand until this is over.” Hackett replied in stoic
resilience.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><b>ENOUGH!</b></i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The sound lifted us off the ground, the entire interior flexed and
moved like a giant throat. I fell to my feet. And I saw it.
Harbinger. The true Harbinger. The thing that commanded and
controlled the squidlike spaceship.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And... I had no words. It's physiology looked like something that had
long since abandoned its origina form. Something amphibious that
bodyhacked itself into vertebrate status, then never stopped adding
in extra bits. It was large and bound in wires, wires that were
breaking off with the sound of industrial beams snapping like twigs.
Limbs... appendages? It seemed to both have a coherent skeleton under
its mass, but it didn't behave like one. More of a framework than a
strict vessel for its vitals. I kept seeing the approximation of ribs
or fragments of skull as it erupted into our area, red energy
erupting from it in completely unfettered bursts. </div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This is over. Your infantile attempts shall be stopped here and
now. Like so many before you, you shall know the futility of fighting
against us!</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And my vision became a furious haze of sharp violet. It wasn't until
a second or two later that I realized what had happened. Jack, Thane,
and Wrex had all pooled their biotic power until a barrier,
attempting to hold back Harbinger's destructive payload. Before I
could call for them to redirect the blast, bullcrap space telekinesis
or not there was no way they could hold something like that back
forever, the floor erupted, their stances faltered, and that haze of
violet flickered back into red, and everything became sharp pain and
deafening screams.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt myself get thrown back into the remains of The Normandy. The
threshold from which the geth were pouring out was decimated, too
many frames to count littered the field. I couldn't see or hear
anyone else.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I had only one last trick left. I made my way towards the eezo
core. And started arming my charges. Yeah, it meant dying, but I can't let the Reapers get out of this universe.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's not what we're fighting against... it's what we're fighting
for...” I said to no one in particular. I saw the cracks in the
ship become distorted by another salvo of Harbinger's payload as I
made my way, oblivious to pain or even sensation at all.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And if there's one thing humanity will fight harder for than
anything...it's their future.” I planted the charges.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza...I'm here.” Shepard replied through the chaos, “I'm
not sure what this will do but.... thank you... for everything.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No, Shepard... thank you,” I finished attaching the last charge
and held the detonator in my hand. I hesitated. The piercing red
became sharper, and I tensed up, thumb on the trigger, ready to go.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then, I felt something powerful ripple through the ship. A wave of
energy of some kind. Then the red glow dulled away. Several things
happened all at once from there. Harbinger... unraveled. Like an
elaborate stitching pattern getting pulled on, it lost its form.
Whatever artificial gravity keeping the Normandy locked immediately
gave way, causing the ship to fall into back into space below. I fell
through the remaining cracks in the Normandy's hull and began
floating in the aftermath of the battle, my suit immediately going
into life support mode and keeping me free of any large bits of
debris.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As cryostasis began to put me to sleep I got a good look at what this
plan had done. Ships. Too many of them to count torn to ribbons. The
Crucible was fired, looking like a large metal blossom, the center
point still crackling with some unusual yellow energy. And...the
entire Alliance fleet. The Turian, and Asari navies. The Salarian STG
fleet. The Quarian Flotilla's best and brightest warships. Destroyed.
Thousands... millions... billions of lives. The crew. Shepard.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My God... what have I done?</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-66462492615347647762019-03-15T17:44:00.000-07:002019-03-15T17:44:18.832-07:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 27<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2>
Chapter 27: Reboot, Recover, Remember</h2>
<h2>
</h2>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Miss T'Som... can
you hear me? Miss T'Som, please respond....</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Someone
is calling to me...someone familiar. In my head.... SAM?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Oh thank
goodness, you haven't completely lost cognitive function. That is a
relief. A minor relief in the grand scheme of things, but it's a
start to a full recovery.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A
full recovery? What do you mean? What's going on?<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>That's just the
problem Variza. I don't know.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
should have noticed it sooner, but SAM was right. I was expecting to
wake up, to get an idea of what has happened. But instead, I was
greeted by an endless void of black. Not falling, not grasping for
air in some inky black nothing, but simply... not.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
tried flexing my fingers, moving my legs, even touching my nose. All
amounted to nothing. No touch, no kinesthetic familiarity.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well...if
I had to venture a guess, I'm in a coma.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>An astute
observation Miss T'Som. According to readings I can recover from your
implants it appears that your body is still operating at normal
levels. Blood pressure, heartbeat, blood sugar, biotics, all still in
perfect order.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
I'm guessing brain scans are analogous to a comatose patient?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Correct. Although
it's difficult to tell if it was due to physical cranial trauma or if
it was artificially induced.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
there is the elephant in the room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Which is?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
can't fully remember how we got into this situation. Which means best
case scenario we're in some hospital right now waiting to wake up
after some hard fought battle.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And worse case
scenario is we're dying a slow death on some battlefield against the
Reapers because someone got a lucky shot in.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Took
the words right out of my mouth.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Well I do develop
personality traits based on the people that bond with me.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Either
way, I do think we need to work on waking up. Because we still have a
war to win. That and this situation is on my top five list of the
scariest damn things to happen to me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Between drowning
and being enthralled via mind-control or between being lynched by an
angry mob and being forced to kill a cat?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's
always in flux based on my mood. Which is...at number one,
hands-down.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>So what do you
suggest?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Cognitive
recall and use the data to see if we can't restore greater ambulatory
function.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Retrace the steps
that lead up to whatever happened at this point and see if it doesn't
shock you awake. I suppose it is worth a shot.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WerBcQRlxHLBIfwBhjuKUsQZsraFmnGEEnZcxeSRkXVnnYsibcoy7lWzUBqY19cRtvVWZ3_edupCfaqQJoN9JQ7Tkf3pg-5BECLY3qhj0Zn7v6kveooHU6knLkzvp46_9knpvYZtrHU/s1600/How+did+I+get+here+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WerBcQRlxHLBIfwBhjuKUsQZsraFmnGEEnZcxeSRkXVnnYsibcoy7lWzUBqY19cRtvVWZ3_edupCfaqQJoN9JQ7Tkf3pg-5BECLY3qhj0Zn7v6kveooHU6knLkzvp46_9knpvYZtrHU/s1600/How+did+I+get+here+Gif.gif" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It
also sounds like a hackneyed excuse for a clipshow.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Don't worry,
Variza. Your prior history has been properly maintained in your
long-term memory. Or perhaps I should call you-</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh
good then. No need to go over boring details. So where exactly should
we start?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Perhaps it would
be prudent to start when we first met. As I recall, you had quite
explosive first contact with the Reapers.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
saw the inky blackness temporarily shift to an ominous orange red. A
teeth-rattling rumble and shock I could feel and hear despite it
sounding muted, like I was underwater. The screeching of a horror
collapsing under endless tons of rubble.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah...nuke.
I'm actually really glad I didn't have to get my eyes replaced.
Doctor Chakwas is a miracle worker.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It was also
thanks to Tana using her Omni-Tool during the husk assault to repair
your visor.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I...honestly
didn't recall.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Unconscious mind,
Variza. You might have missed it, but I didn't.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In
that case, remind me to give her a bonus when we get out of here.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You always seem
to keep putting incentives to everything you do.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What
can I say, put enough carrots on a stick and eventually you get
creative enough to get at them.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Moving on. Do you
recall what happened once you were rescued by the Normandy?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
felt a sharp sting across my face as Liara slapped me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright,
I might have deserved that.” I replied, holding my cheek.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“When
exactly were you going to tell me about the Prothean?” Liara
replied through her teeth, trying to hold back some of her rage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah...”
I nervously smiled, my hand reaching to scratch my scalp (one that
didn't exist for years so it just awkwardly glossed over the
cartilage tendrils), “you remember that weekend where I went all
private for a while? I may have sent the commandos on a covert
mission to find Prince Javik's pod all the way out on Eden Prime.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“...your
knowledge of our world?” Liara asked in a moment of genuine
curiosity.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes.
And I'd rather have him on our side now than us scrambling to get him
later while the Reapers were after us. Besides, particle rifle
technology was something the Protheans developed later on during
their war with the Reapers. I thought we could use it to not rely too
much on thermal clip technology.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I
was curious as to why Javik never had to reload that thing.” her
tone was now more academic and curious than wounded.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Combo
of the particle beam tech and the overheating system the older
generation of firearms used. It's powerful, but it won't fire all the
time. On the whole, more reliable for prolonged encounters with the
Reapers.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is
it always guns with you, Variza?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
turned away, “It was...also an instance of not wanting you to get
your hopes up with Javik.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Meaning?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
took a few steps and sat down on the bed in the med bay.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You
know the human expression 'never meet your idols?' I know your first
reaction upon finding out a Prothean survived the Reapers would be
one of curiosity. To want to ask questions, to learn more about their
Empire. But Javik isn't exactly the most talkative. I mean, you did
catch that he called us primitives back on Thessia, right?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara
sat down next to me, “Nothing more than cultural differences. The
Prothean Empire was characterized by superiority and honor among
their own.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And
look how well that turned out for them. Stand among the ashes of a
trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their
silence is your answer.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara
gulped at my macabre phrase. “You don't believe that... do you?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No.
But it's where Javik is right now. Think about it. While he was
around, our ancestors were either still barely thinking animals or
just figuring out basic tools. Now he wakes up and suddenly we're all
facing the same enemy, using the same technology-”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“-making
the same mistakes.” Liara breathed. “It would make anyone rush to
condescension.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Exactly.
He is their ultimate warrior, not a philosopher or even a scientist,
hell the only reason why he could replicate the particle rifle was
thanks to a Collector rifle Shepard's team collected, and even he is
getting a morbid sense of deja vu. Condescension is his way of
coping.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There
was a a brief moment of quiet between us. The thought of history
repeating itself, of a cycle doomed to forever to repeat growing in
the air.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Now
if you'll excuse me, I need to be prepped for surgery.” I replied,
breaking the silence.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wait,
wha-”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doctor
Chakwas, SAM me!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
well you know what happened next. </div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Was there any
particular reason why you didn't tell Miss T'Soni about the Temple of
Athame?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even
as I felt the lucidity of my scene with Liara fade into the ether, I
couldn't help but at least attempt to shut my eyes in dismissal.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If
she knew that her people's very foundation was handled by the
Protheans, she'd attack Javik, it would lead to in-fighting. Plus, it
wouldn't be good for the rest of the asari. To be told that they were
a science experiment by the Prothean Empire, a sort of long-term
gamble against the Reapers, it would crush them. As cold as it
sounds, I needed to let them keep believing that their people
naturally became who they are now.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>A comforting lie,
over a harsh truth?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If
you told me that humanity didn't slowly rise to become the dominant
species on Earth by figuring out tools and communication by
themselves I'd smack you in your face. If you then told me our very
biology was designed for optimization in a war fifty millennia in the
future, manufactured by aliens we praised as gods, I'd try to get you
a stint on the Syfy Channel and see if we could make money.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN5w9qWqEbNYJZO66EGlYdyQ7o-EcdPTfHamcMvUyP3YIhww-RMvfOhmdDKZ2wik9sFbALUmhCUZRCNFIS2Ank-imBP0lvMPYct78M0c-tM644AHR3YUIyQ_vDCFrWYrOFy8aI6Srj0A/s1600/ancient+alien+meme.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="382" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN5w9qWqEbNYJZO66EGlYdyQ7o-EcdPTfHamcMvUyP3YIhww-RMvfOhmdDKZ2wik9sFbALUmhCUZRCNFIS2Ank-imBP0lvMPYct78M0c-tM644AHR3YUIyQ_vDCFrWYrOFy8aI6Srj0A/s320/ancient+alien+meme.PNG" width="304" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Best
case scenario, no one believes it. Worst case scenario, those who do
believe it could sustain untold psychological damage from the
revelation. Neither are productive.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>...there is some
logic in your claims, Variza.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Right.
So let's move on.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>What about your
hostage? The one with Cerberus that you took with you from Illium?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh
her? Funny story, she was actually the mole I managed to convert from
Cerberus on the inside. Miranda Lawson. Way back when Liara and I
became the new Shadow Broker, we did some digging into her father,
Henry Lawson, and found out his financial connections to a shell
company operating on behalf of Cerberus.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Then proceeded to
shut it down and send the authorities on Henry. The law was applied,
and his reputation was destroyed the minute it got out that he had
genetically modified his children to be “perfect” to him.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Add
to that cocktail the humanity-first bigotry Cerberus trades in and
things got pretty hot fast for the guy.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>But that still
doesn't fully explain why Miranda would be willing to help you.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is
Oriana safe?” Miranda asked, her concern genuine despite being
surrounded by a firing squad and restrained.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
made a quick X across my front. “Cross my heart, Miranda. I told
you could trust me.” I said with a smile, making a small step
towards her. If she wanted to she could attempt to strangle me with
the restraints, but my trust was well placed. She stayed put. Liara
passed me while holding a datapad. She cleared her throat.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We
still need to be sure about this. Why do you want to leave Cerberus?”
Liara asked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Miranda
lowered her head, her expression slowly becoming contemplative and
sullen, her long black hair covering her face.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There
was...once a time I believed in Cerberus.” Miranda said, her tone
seeded with guilt.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“When
humanity made first contact with the turians and we fought for our
lives, only to have the Council, the asari and salarians, step in and
call it off, we...I...my father told me it was condescension. That
they were patronizing us. That they felt bad about beating up on such
a primitive race. That we will never be seen as equals no matter how
much progress we made. Then, The Illusive Man showed up with his
organization saying he would make them see our greatness. That we
were better than them, and that we weren't to be crossed. It...made a
lot of sense.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then,
the Battle of the Citadel happened. Shepard and his team...and you.
Fought Saren, and the Council race's fleets took down a Reaper. And I
thought, Shepard was truly humanity's champion, that he was able to
command those people, control them, make them serve him. He was a
goddamned hero.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And
The Illusive Man agreed. We tried reaching out to him. Appealing to
his military dedication, his reputation for getting the job done no
matter the cost. His no nonsense attitude. Except he... said no. He
told our representatives that we gave humanity a bad name, trying to
step over others rather than elevate them with us. It was like...it
was like...”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He
became a completely different person.” I finished her sentence.
Miranda looked up to me and nodded in approval. Her expression
softening but still pensive.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The
Illusive Man sent me to him for one last attempt to talk to him. To
give him an ultimatum. That humanity would never be seen as equal to
the rest of the galaxy, and that him helping us would be just another
mission to bring security.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Another
means of control.” Liara mused.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“...and
he said no. He told me that there was more than just another mission.
That we already have done so much. That while it was thanks to humans
that the Citadel was won, it wasn't because we were in control, it
was because we lead by example. That by being a hero, we could
inspire others to be selfless and brave....”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A
paragon of hope to show the way...” I muttered under my breath. My
mind briefly flashing a symbol of blue wings and numbers going up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Miranda
smiled and looked away, cupping her hand as if to muffle a chuckle,
“It all sounded so sentimental and corny at the time. So I had to
tell him to his face that humanity would ascend without him...and
that he should stay out of our way.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And
that's when something...broke in The Illusive Man. His scientists
started collecting up Sovereign's remains, test subjects were
collected,” her mouth twitched in disgust at phrasing, “and the
experiments began. And my father...he kept pushing. That was all they
could think about. Get more Reaper technology, reverse engineer it,
and bring down the Council.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But
then...you happened Variza. Your company, all the help you were
hiring. The money you were burning through, the projects we were
working on all either patented or confiscated. It made him furious.
He yelled and raged so many times about how anything humans build is
taken away like a child with a weapon. The way you were, to use his
words, spending money like a spoiled brat to get whatever you wanted,
disgusted him. Henry and him became even more passionate, and I
started seeing things their way.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then
there was that...well, mental breakdown you had on Omega. I was hired
to keep tabs on you while Kai Leng and the others dogged Shepard.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
pinched the bridge of my nose. “Was every big name in the galaxy
watching me that night?” I sighed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Miranda
gave me an amiable look. “What was it you said? The joke's on them,
I only care about stopping the Reapers?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
felt myself shiver slightly with this newfound respect Miranda showed
me. “You figured out it was an act. That I was doing all of this to
save us all.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It
was like a switch went off.” Miranda replied. “How could someone
I was told for years had no respect for lesser alien beings be
fighting so hard and working with so many people, so many diverse
backgrounds, be working that hard to fight something that daunting?
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It
put our priorities into perspective. The Illusive Man wanted to be on
top before everything came crumbling down, you and Shepard...were
trying to keep the whole thing together. So... I started giving The
Illusive Man false information, burying your trail, and tried
observing. Then I got your encoded messages after I lost you on
Illium.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well
in your defense, Jack's a pretty suicidal pilot.” I interjected.
That got a laugh from the armed guards and a smile from Liara, albeit
a bitter one.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And
it was also the moment I could tell it wasn't totally an act,”
Miranda continued, “you wanted to help me, and you told me what
Henry was planning to do to the human refugees at his compound. How
they were going to continue their experiments. And how he and
Illusive Man could see how unreliable I was and were threatening...my
precious sister...” She looked down. “And now I find out she's
safe. On the Citadel. With the rest of Shepard's team. You didn't ask
for anything in return, you just wanted to help.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It
was the right thing to do.” I replied.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She
stood up and held out her bound hands. “Which is why I will gladly
help you stop Cerberus. And the Reapers. It's like Shepard
said...we're in this together.”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0Ve-042MjNFOw8PIbtA-cChY6qesevM5HWGDYmoDjQL4dttStKGn41l25BBesVGqPklJFCDATgey8Tl2r-lwxvBQ3cWoQoDoAgFYIc-GBGllNWO-AynAszkG7sPuKMDg3SN4kdm8HwM/s1600/mass+effect+miranda+lawson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0Ve-042MjNFOw8PIbtA-cChY6qesevM5HWGDYmoDjQL4dttStKGn41l25BBesVGqPklJFCDATgey8Tl2r-lwxvBQ3cWoQoDoAgFYIc-GBGllNWO-AynAszkG7sPuKMDg3SN4kdm8HwM/s320/mass+effect+miranda+lawson.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
holding cell started to fade away like smoke, Miranda's genuine smile
and Liara's approving smirk washing away. I was back to the nothing.<br />
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It seems your
unintended actions yielded some ripe fruit?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm
not sure if I would word it that poetically SAM but it did make
things easier for me. For example, that whole Cerberus plot to hijack
the Citadel and shut down the War Council....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A
brief flash and I was in the Presidium with the Councilors, Shepard,
the STG, and C-Sec. There was fifteen seconds of concentrated gunfire
on select targets. Biotics thrown, grenades detonated, shocked
citizens quickly escorted as the unaware Cerberus agents got their
ambush reversed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nipped
in the fucking bud.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It does seem
quite sad doesn't it? The galaxy is in peril and Cerberus can only
think of themselves first. It's almost like history repeating itself.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Moving
on.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It just seems sad
is what I'm saying.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On to the War Council. Honestly, now that it's coming back to me, I
remember it going quite smoothly....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I don't care if the krogan have started holding hands and singing
songs of peace! Curing the Genophage is off the table of demands!”
Councilor Udina slammed his fist in protest. His eyes darting around
to the other members standing at the round table. The Salarian
Dalatrass, the STG's Commander Kirrahe,Doctor Mordin Solus, the
Turian Primarch accompanied by Garrus Vakarian, the asari councilor,
Commander Shepard, and me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then we will have to pull our support from the Crucible and
ongoing military support, Councilor Udina.” Kirrahe spoke up. “Your
transmissions made it clear that the Genophage cure was a completely
satisfactory means of compensation for our cooperation.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Udina's face twisted in confusion. “And I take it that means you
are content with letting another krogan uprising happen when this is
all over? Have we all forgotten our history?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“With all due respect to the human councilor, despite the history
that we have with the krogan, I have to concur with Commander
Kirrahe.” The Primarch interjected. “Our fleets are holding
blockades at key points across the mass relay network, but our ground
forces are overwhelmed across the entire Attican Traverse. Besides,
enemies and allies change all the time. In politics and in war.
Something I hope you can see, Udina.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There have also been noticeable changes in krogan behavior.
Societal shifts, religious and spiritual realignments, leaning
towards introspection, deliberation,” Mordin pattered out before
taking a sharp breath, “time has changed them.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Plus, the way I see it,” another familiar low, steady voice
droned in from the sidelines, “we will need all the help we can
get.” Urdnot Wrex had joined the War Council. “And I think wiping
the slate clean for all of us would be the best reward.” He patted
Mordin on the shoulder. He flashed Wrex a wiry smile. Almost like
they had talked before the meeting was officially held.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It appears you are outvoted Udina,” the asari councilor
remarked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard and I exchanged looks and a fistbump.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
From there, the meeting became a matter of logistics. The battle plan
for getting the cure to Tuchanka, the best tactics to use against
Reaper forces while the cure gets delivered to the populace, you
know, the boring but important stuff.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>After everything the Turians and Salarians did them, it seems
unlikely the Krogan would just bury the hatchet. And their home
planet is nothing but desert wasteland full of their natural
predators, the Thresher Maws. Wouldn't it have just been easier to
just write it off as lost?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Spoken like someone who doesn't think outside the box, SAM. As you
mentioned, Thresher Maws are the things that eat and kill Krogan by
the hundreds, withstanding artillery fire and the like. But the
Krogan are also proud warriors who use them as means for warrior
trial rituals, using special gongs to summon them. So I uhh...made a
bunch of them and set up a network. They weren't exactly expensive,
and there really wasn't much to control. Tuchanka is their home as
well, so naturally they'd fight the Reapers.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But there was one last thing I had to set right. Jump
handed me a LOKI mech for a reason, and I just remembered why....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doctor Solus wait!” I sprinted towards him before he entered his
ship, Kirrahe and the Dalatrass departing to shuttles of their own.
He turned to meet me, his face showing flickers of concern.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes, what is it?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have to ask...why are you helping them cure the Genophage?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I thought I made it clear at the meeting.” He turned around,
continuing his approach to the shuttle, “You said it yourself. Not
safe to be out in public. Need to return to safety.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I heard why the STG and Turians wanted it cured,” I ran to close
the distance and clasped a hand on his shoulder, “ I didn't hear
why you agreed to help.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He tensed up in response to my contact. He stopped dead, his
composure defensive. “I... ran the numbers. Saw the Lrogan for
myself. They changed. It was logical.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I didn't ask for data, I asked what your feelings are about it
Mordin.” I spoke as calmly as I could, despite everything screaming
at me to move now. A Reaper agent could have had a sniper trained on
me, or a saboteur with a bomb. But I had to know, and I had to hear
it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I told you, I saw the data-”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And what?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mordin whipped around and knocked my hand from my shoulder. His face
scrunched up in an expression of rage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I MADE A MISTAKE!”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0H45iHmek7RUgEHyJ56_3H6PARBRgBVBNT_TORfsCJZyF3gVWCvFQgmdGP521Ocdv-qVihkAtFRCqCrlGQv2kNr121w-r_yWTlkodw7c5fXwhMtgvWPKVWXkBrOcIpxnbb-RI__UQKo/s1600/Mass+Effect+Mordin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0H45iHmek7RUgEHyJ56_3H6PARBRgBVBNT_TORfsCJZyF3gVWCvFQgmdGP521Ocdv-qVihkAtFRCqCrlGQv2kNr121w-r_yWTlkodw7c5fXwhMtgvWPKVWXkBrOcIpxnbb-RI__UQKo/s320/Mass+Effect+Mordin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And an instant later, his expression saddened. I almost thought I saw
tears.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“... I made a mistake...”his tone was pensive.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What was it you said before? About how the lies you tell yourself
are the most dangerous? I told myself for years that dictating the
future of an entire race was necessary for the greater good. I don't
care if it changed them for the better... it wasn't for me to
decide.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I smiled and tossed the briefcase-sized mech in front of him. It
slowly unfolded to full size.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What...what is this?” He looked at the Mk. II LOKI in surprise.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You were honest with me. So here's a present. Top of the line from
the manufacturer. Complete with a haptic feedback system in the hands
and fingers that can be remotely operated by the user. And I had Tali
overclock its software so that its reception can cover at least a
couple hundred kilometers. Great for combat scenarios or...if you
can't get to some crucial command consoles in a pinch”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why...why give this to me?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I think you said it back at the meeting. Wipe the slate clean. A
new beginning,” I held out a hand, “for all of us.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mordin looked to the mech, then to me. He took my hand.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Seems a bit of an odd thing to remember, Variza. Was it really
enough to have Mordin confess his failings?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Honestly, I had to know his thoughts on the krogan had changed. Plus,
I wasn't exactly going to throw him onto a desert world with giant
mutant millipede monsters and Reapers and not give him a Plan B.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You are...citing something from your...weirdly accurate outsider
knowledge?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The games... yeah. He died saving the Krogan, it was a scripted
event, had to happen. I wanted to give him a better conclusion. Geez,
it sounds really entitled when you say it out loud like that....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Fascinating...</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wait a moment, didn't you say you had a copy of my long-term memory?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's a part of the recovery process, have to be sure everything is
connected. False Memory Syndrome could be problematic at this stage.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Right. But yeah...the rest of the war effort I remember being hazy. I
remember key battles, losses, near escapes, but I also remember
staying away from all the fighting.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>That seems incompatible. How exactly does that work?</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-OuTjeXJZjsqMago_V0b9PkQPsY6WDjof1ZjwInQvwgKPF_gLgOThrZ85XldQRl1B-6ETeaMklaBS4RjmhLD-TJIyADAvQvr45WoiLpjqcZ6M7hIKMLVbwrV5fqLtH1ajpeoRM2tMTU/s1600/Mass+Effect+War+Room.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-OuTjeXJZjsqMago_V0b9PkQPsY6WDjof1ZjwInQvwgKPF_gLgOThrZ85XldQRl1B-6ETeaMklaBS4RjmhLD-TJIyADAvQvr45WoiLpjqcZ6M7hIKMLVbwrV5fqLtH1ajpeoRM2tMTU/s320/Mass+Effect+War+Room.webp" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My senses began to re-assert themselves again, and the answer became
clear. Me sitting in the Normandy's War Room, nursing a cup of coffee
handed to me by Specialist Samantha Traynor. The 3D display of
Tuchanka a mess of red dots, polygonal structures and green
highlights...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh...of course.... Every time I wind up planetside for too long, the
Reapers manage to pin down my location. I'm a key target with crucial
info, plus also being the Shadow Broker puts a target on your back.
But I can't exactly leave the War Effort to their own devices, so I
advise from a commander position. Or a umm....assistant commander
position? I'm terrible with military hierarchy so I just treat
everyone above me until someone says otherwise.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>But why do it from the Normandy? Wouldn't that make it vulnerable?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Normandy's built in stealth capabilities. For some reason, the
Reapers can't actively track it with their tools, which made it a
perfect gopher hole. That and Joker's unparalleled flying capability.
Of course, that means that I was never on the front line directly
fighting anyone, but I was where I was needed....</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well that is a lie. There were some very quick evacuation missions we
were a part of. Civilians, scientists, crying children, that sort of
thing. We were in the neighborhood.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Seems a bit reckless</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey, you ride with Paragon Shepard, you do things for the greater
good with Paragon Shepard. Honestly, the hard part wasn't fighting
off the Reapers' forces with my squad. I mean, it was kind of nice,
getting out of the office again.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>In order to kill things?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To save lives. Honestly, the hard part was...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, are you seriously fiddling with your Omni-Tool right
now!?” Jack yelled over the sounds of explosions and screaming.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey, if we're gonna do this, I wanna be sure it's to a decent
music playlist.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What!?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What about situational awareness? That seems highly reckless.”
Garrus commented via comms, his sniper rifle blasting out hot death
at several Reaper-converted turians; Marauders we called them.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's a simple defend and extract and we're out from any Reaper
flagships, I say live a little.” I kept flipping through my tracks.
Why didn't I put together a playlist beforehand?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I heard Wrex roar in triumph as he ripped an abomination in half, his
crazed laughter echoing as he used the halves to beat down several
Collector rifleman that were pinning us down.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“See? Wrex gets it!” I gestured to his murderous rampage. “Okay
screw it, hitting random.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was greeted by an upbeat piano riff. One I only vaguely recognized.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wait a minute, this isn't from my rock list.” I mused.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh will you just go up top? We have a beeline to the survivors!”
Shepard remarked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I rolled my eyes and charged forward as a familiar country drawl
started playing over my helmet's internal audio system. The gun fight
a rote exercise in rapid shots from my SMG, quick acrobatics thanks
to all my training, and liberal biotic use.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the chorus kicked in... </div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Working 9 to 5</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>What a way to make a living</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Barely gettin' by</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's all taking</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And no giving</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>They just use your mind</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And they never give you credit</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>It's enough to drive you</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Crazy if you let it!</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Huh, when you think about it, we do seem to do this a lot. Variza,
are you sure this was on random?” Tali mused.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh crap, was this broadcast to everyone?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes!!” Everyone shouted in unison</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I could have curled up into a ball of embarrassment right then I
would have. But hey, we got the people safe and away from Reaper
attack.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>With no thanks to Dolly Parton of course.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey, if my priorities were really askew, I would have actually made a
“Be Goddamned Heroes” playlist. But no, I didn't, so there.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Moving on... what happened then?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well that's where things get sketchy. After a while, the battles
began to blend together. Key objectives, people of interesting, stuff
to blow up. It was...like I was just playing the games again after a
while. Give commands, let stuff play out, rinse and repeat.
It...started to feel like a let down.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You feel like your actions made no difference?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Absolutely not. Mordin Solus survived. The asari became much more
active much earlier in the conflict. Cerberus is practically a joke.
That sort of stuff never happened before. And...there was the matter
with the geth.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Reaper worshipping robots that drove the quarians from their
home planet?</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a big misunderstanding. The very first geth was simply curious
as to what it wanted the creators wanted. But once you make something
that actively questions its programming, it can be terrifying for the
the creator. So weapons were drawn and...well, what exactly is the
most deeply-ingrained reflex and desire of any sentient species?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Self-Preservation.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Exactly. they coordinated to defend themselves from the quarians
and...well, the rest of history happened. Then when Saren showed up a
schism happened within the geth collective. Half of them believed
Saren's gospel, the other half didn't. And well, you know the rest.
Battle of the Citadel, lot of dead geth, life moved on.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>And Legion? What exactly was the point of him being among the
Normandy's ranks</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A means to show the galaxy that the geth ultimately wished to help.
In fact, that started to go down on the quarian homeworld of Rannoch,
far away from key war locations beyond the Perseus Veil. The geth
were talking about helping to restore the quarian's immune systems,
make habitations and set-up proper borders for peaceful living. Help
them finally get out of those suits.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They were helping them get their home back.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Legion was also a sign that the geth were starting to gain a level of
independence from the group collective. At least according to
Shepard. He had more time with him than I did.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So yeah, you do the math. Two of the most advanced and prolific
engineering and hacking races in the galaxy, far away from multiple
theaters of war trying to bury a centuries long hatchet on the
off-chance this will be the last time to be on their planet's own
soil again. All while various mishaps and honest mistakes are being
revealed The Reapers couldn't resist....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKD0kpMO0Y6V-YGMFKsptOgwpWwKFjDhQsDd14ZsUTyi5NInugkM1WhiviZ8PzdJXxgsoDhhTw4WZT8CLgwbCotTJo6aes3z516qaJoUx3vRZYbUHyqeFOEdUMb4UZLVYo1bzlLWPd6U/s1600/Mass+Effect+Possessed+Geth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKD0kpMO0Y6V-YGMFKsptOgwpWwKFjDhQsDd14ZsUTyi5NInugkM1WhiviZ8PzdJXxgsoDhhTw4WZT8CLgwbCotTJo6aes3z516qaJoUx3vRZYbUHyqeFOEdUMb4UZLVYo1bzlLWPd6U/s320/Mass+Effect+Possessed+Geth.png" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This is Ambassador Tali Zorah vas Normandy to the Admiralty Board.
The geth are not our enemy! The Reapers have hacked their platforms!
Stand down!” Tali bellowed at the war table, a complete rush of red
swarming several small dots of green.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miranda, get the stragglers to the evac point, the eezo lances are
on the way to shut down Reaper forces and you will not survive the
impact.” I barked into my comms.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We're moving as fast as we can,” Miranda panted, “we have
wounded and Legion is still trying to break Reaper control, his body
is still frozen.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Leave his body. It's just an operating platform for him, he can
find another!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Roger!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I
heard Tali hail the Flotilla Fleet again. “You thickheaded </span><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">boschtet</span></i><span style="font-weight: normal;">
listen to me! We are this close to having our home back! Focus on the
real enemy right in front of us!”</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Board responded. “We are facing the real enemy. We can't have
the Geth help the Reapers destroy our home a second time. We are
continuing our assault.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tali punched the holotable in anger, and put her head in her hands,
sounded like the start of a panic attack.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Admiralty Board, this is Variza T'Som, Alliance Military. I must
reiterate Tali Zorah's request. Stand down now, the geth are trying
to help you, and you're only making this situation worse.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som, you have no idea what these things have taken from us!
The generations of suffering! If we stand down now, we will lose
everything we have ever fought for! We cannot trust the geth.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Admiral, it is because your people didn't take a few crucial
moments to think that all of this has happened in the first place.
And if you can't trust the geth, then at least trust me. Trust
Shepard.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Keelah... Legion did it!” Tali exclaimed. A swath of green
slowly overtaking the sea of red on the map.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Look with your own eyes right now. If the geth truly wanted to
end all of this now in violence, they could have. But they aren't.
They're offering a hand. Please...be the better person and take it.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“All ships....stand down. All units, form on the geth and help them
evacuate.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Joker chimed in. “Payload ready, getting ready to deliver in tee
minus two minutes.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Get out of there Shepard!” I yelled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Everything from there basically happened all at once. Lances shot
down, Reaper forces devastated, the geographic foundation rocked and
shifted enough to crippled the Reapers that were planetside, and gave
the Flotilla enough time for some tactical bombing runs aided by
targeting info by the geth. Rannoch was safe. The hatchet was finally
buried.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>All of that yelling and work for something so simple...</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah... but it happened. One of our last big operations before...</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Before what?</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Trying to remember... we were still diverting resources to the
Crucible. Keeping it as far away from censors, key planets and
locations as much as possible. Keeping the ace thoroughly tucked up
our sleeve so to speak. All of the alliances, all the deals being
made kept meaning more people, expertise, and power being pumped into
it. But by my admission, I advised Admiral Hackett and the Council to
keep it within relative distance of the Citadel. Apparently they were
designed to work with one another, a Catalyst of some sort. Heh,
originally that information was revealed through a Prothean VI captured by Cerberus.
Yet another bullet dodged I guess.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But it kept making me feel uneasy. Like there was some detail I was
missing. Something I might have overlooked. That Cerberus had
something waiting in the wings. But Shepard and the others kept
telling me to put it out of my mind. Focus on the Reapers, focus on
the Crucible. Eventually, they had to put their foot down....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, as your superior officer, I am ordering you to take shore
leave on the Citadel.” Shepard asserted. “You're clearly
stressed, hell we all are, and we can't have you like this.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am not stressed dammit!” I yelled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, you pulled a gun on me after I walked out of the
bathroom.” Tali responded, “I think Shepard has a point.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And you haven't exactly been sleeping all that well.” SAM
interjected. “REM cycles keep getting interrupted and night terrors
have been happening more often.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's war, SAM. Like, The War. Y'know, The War that will end us all
if it isn't won!?” I splurted out.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Still doesn't forgive the whole gun situation. I mean I was more
accepting of Legion after a while and he's only been on the crew for
six months.” Tali followed up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry Variza but I'm gonna have to go with the group here.”
Garrus spoke up, leaning against a wall in the corner. “Seen it
multiple times when I served in the Turian Navy. Too obsessed with
the job they forget crucial self-care.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I clenched my teeth and balled up my fists.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Fine.” I growled out. “We'll go to the Citadel, sing karoake,
get completely smashed, and get into some dopey antics! That sounds
amazing!” I honestly couldn't tell if I was being sarcastic or not
through all the anger.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Perfect!” Tali exclaimed. “Now excuse me Garrus, but I think
you and I are due for a...movie screening at the Citadel. And dinner
afterwards.” her tone was undeniably playful and I swear I saw a
skip in her step as she went to Garrus' side.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I thought you and I agreed that this wasn't a relationship.” I
heard him mutter quietly through his artificial jaw.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tali scoffed. “Who said anything about a relationship. I'm just
using you for your body, Vakarian.” I saw her boldly wrap her arm
around his narrow waist and pull him close.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Garrus suppressed a chuckle, “Oh you are so mean...and I'm okay
with that.”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZr6jb5fS_jHM76TV1i31NzTij7AFzpnNNV_ax10tgVNB1iGuFvW-M6RXCiyBRUofhOTzixfFm1fM8wEgF0_JaqB9WJBPg70Nw0gxaE4EVaZ62kDwCnJYDnYcU_kO0TtiYmHDL1shi7zY/s1600/Mass+Effect+Tali+and+Garrus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1332" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZr6jb5fS_jHM76TV1i31NzTij7AFzpnNNV_ax10tgVNB1iGuFvW-M6RXCiyBRUofhOTzixfFm1fM8wEgF0_JaqB9WJBPg70Nw0gxaE4EVaZ62kDwCnJYDnYcU_kO0TtiYmHDL1shi7zY/s320/Mass+Effect+Tali+and+Garrus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still amazed how that came out of nowhere. Oh well, I'm not the
center of the universe.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyway, they practically dragged me kicking and screaming into the
Citadel's club scene. Shepard kept insisting that there were plenty
of military protections there as well as C-Sec, that everything was
going to be fine. Then Jack said something about wanting to move me
up from lightweight and so the drinks started pouring in. Things went
by in a haze, a large smear of neon lights, ridiculous antics and
adventures – I think at one point Grunt and I hijacked a taxi and
lit it on fire – and lots of intimate friendly discussions on life.
Hell, I think I got caught up in some quasi-philosophical talk about
the perception of self with Shepard, Traynor, and Liara while Mordin
quietly sang Amazing Grace during karoake. Props to the guy, his
usual genre is patter songs.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the lucidity hit. The booze left me, in this case violently in a
bathroom for the very first time in my entire existence, I do not
recommend it, and the hazy surroundings finally came into focus. I
was on the side of a bed in some hotel, Traynor laying next to me
topless. I should know, I was wearing her shirt and nothing else. I
didn't exactly want to linger on how that happened or what exactly
went down, this never happened to me before so the etiquette escaped
me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the hangover hit me in waves like a tropical storm. I stumbled
around and jumped into my jeans, leaning on the walls to keep my
balance as I made my way to the door. It opened up to a sort of
lounge area, some sort of VIP Suite that Shepard probably rented out
for a party. There was a fireplace in the middle. And Shepard was
sitting next to it, his eyes flickered to me with a smile.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Have fun?” He smirked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard please tell me you have a hangover cure in your hands
right now” I groaned as I stumbled towards the stable foundation of
the couch.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He held up a glass of some bronze-looking liquid. Without hesitation
I took the glass and began several cautious sips. Tasted a bit like
chicken soup, but chalky.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Asari recipe. Thought it might agree with you.” he replied.
“Once you finish that I also have some coffee since I doubt you'll
be sleeping the rest of the night.” he gestured to a steaming mug
on the table.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah...not gonna look forward to how awkward things might be with
Samantha now. I mean, I don't remember anything,” my eyes darted
back to the room, “then again, she might not either.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard chuckled. It got a smile out of me. And whatever was in that
drink started to work as my headache began to recede and my balance
reasserted itself.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The evening went by in relative silence. A few personal questions
were exchanged. Where I really grew up, my background, just small
proper chitchat with all pretense thoroughly gone.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then, the topic slowly turned to the Reapers.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you know what they really are?” Shepard inquired. After a
long pause, I nodded.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“There was an expansion that explained their origin but...I never
really played it. How...everything ends basically soured things for
me.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You...never really talked about the ending before. What exactly
happens? Other than...me dying.” Shepard glanced briefly to the
fire. I chose my next words very carefully.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Reapers capture the Citadel and move it towards Earth, funneling
the rest of our forces to it in a trap. We get you on to the Citadel,
the Crucible activates and...you're given a choice on how to use it.
Destroy the Reapers, but end up destroying the geth. Destroy your
body and have your consciousness override the Reapers, letting you
control them. Or...you synthesize organic and synthetic life into a
new unique being, causing the Reapers to understand empathy or
something like that, making them stop.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Either way, it ends with you dying...and the entire Mass Relay
network being destroyed to generate the power needed to make whatever
choice happen.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So what you're saying is we can't force them to talk.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shrug and finish off the coffee. “They've done this for
millennia, why would they stop now?” I catch a glimpse of the fire
as well. For a second it looked like the fire had spiked but then
settled down.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Humor me then with this then...what if they're right?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Excuse me?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What if what they're doing is a mercy for the galaxy?
Civilizations rise, become too powerful, start doing untold harm to
the universe, and for their own good they are cut down. For the good
of all that come later.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I thought I saw something flicker under Shepard's eyes, but couldn't
fully place it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I would say that is highly pretentious and antithetical to what I
think civilization is capable of. We have the capacity to create and
make these things, yes, but we also know how to shoulder the
responsibility of what comes with that craft. Human history is full
of situations like this with war and nuclear disarmament.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was another great pause.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And what if they created something that others knew would condemn
them to annihilation. Wouldn't it be better to stop them before
things became worse.” His tone became more serious.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I started grasping my throat. I swear I thought I felt something grip
it like the throes of sleep paralysis.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Example?” I managed to gasp out.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The mass effect fields. The amount of dark energy that they
generate doesn't just dispel once they are used. They continue on in
space, and after centuries of use, could develop into destructive
phenomena. Rips in space time that could cause irreparable damage to
our physical universe.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then Shepard's eyes glowed a sinister red, and his voice became one
from my nightmares.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GNPM3p9ORnQ2VwAfQF8a6fcWWEY5cHX_7mtOtT5my9hSLqrwN0YV9N8slRkiKFi6lSPlSOu8pY1nrGzuk4inaig6HcSxU6hz6rGFmf9onNzXr5ayLxFNIP_-alXtSZv1Lq-d2KDd0xk/s1600/Sleep+Paralysis+Demon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GNPM3p9ORnQ2VwAfQF8a6fcWWEY5cHX_7mtOtT5my9hSLqrwN0YV9N8slRkiKFi6lSPlSOu8pY1nrGzuk4inaig6HcSxU6hz6rGFmf9onNzXr5ayLxFNIP_-alXtSZv1Lq-d2KDd0xk/s1600/Sleep+Paralysis+Demon.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So tell me Miss T'Som...how exactly were you planning on stopping
that?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My body became frozen, whether by fear or by Harbinger's will I
couldn't tell. My eyes darted around the room as it slowly lost
definition, like a decaying oil painting. But the visage of the man I
once thought was my friend remained.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I must admit you fought harder than I thought. But extracting your
secrets was only a matter of time.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My memories came up again in flashes. Me back in the bed with
Traynor, stumbling into the main room for a glass of water. Then
someone grabbing me from behind, the smell of chloroform.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“H...how?” I choked out. A moment later it hit me, I wasn't actually speaking to SAM...he was fishing through my head. And I just gave him all of our secrets!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As you said, Cerberus became quite desperate with what they could
use against us... so I allowed them to utilize our power. In exchange
for their..obedience.” Shepard's facsimile began to dissolve, the
piercing red glow turning into a single solitary red lens growing in
size.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
AND IT WAS JUST A MATTER OF DISCOVERING WHERE YOUR CRUCIBLE WAS
LOCATED. NOW FOR THE GOOD OF THE GALAXY, YOUR PEOPLE MUST BE DESTROYED.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No...You can't do this...” I had to think. SAM had to still be
connected to me somehow. Please recognize my fight or flight
response. Get me out of this coma, please.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
THEN THERE'S THE MATTER OF YOU MISS T'SOM. THE JUMPER. CLEARLY THE
ARROGANCE OF HUMANITY GOES BEYOND THIS WORLD. COUNTLESS OTHER EARTHS
THAT NEED TO BE REMINDED OF THEIR PLACE IN THE GRANDER SCHEME. WHICH
IS WHY WE WILL NOW BE A PART OF YOU. OUR REACH SHALL EXTEND PAST THIS
MILKY WAY, AND BRING ORDER TO MORE WORLDS. THIS IS OUR GRAND PURPOSE,
AND YOU SHALL REJOICE IN BEING A PART OF IT.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” I finally bellowed out, and like a war cry I
felt the grips on me loosen.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Humanity... has its problems. Dear me do I know that, but the last
thing you ever want to tell them is what they can or can't
accomplish. We were told not to build tall towers for fear of Gods
punishing us, so we built entire cities with towers that could break
the heavens. We learned how to hold off death, defy gravity, and even
how to travel faster than light through the stars!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I started to feel my body. It was a mile away, fighting and
fidgeting, like the final seconds of a lucid dream coming to an end.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So to your utter drivel saying we can't handle what comes next. I
say bring it on! To your warriors, I say you're gonna need more than
that!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt my hand clench up into a fist. I was on a table of some kind.
Cold, but firm.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And to this dark energy crisis that you say will doom us all... I
say this. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Harbinger remained silent for a moment before uttering one last
phrase.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
PETULANT INSECT<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Zzyvcog-6OpIuWezDpnl35tp6Vmq6B3HXJOcY7QriPKQ66ZzKX6j9PS0Br62unSDi5UlJbsMZFyKnBm9w_uMX1aZK1oQEllxMF9ga7Cx7mSifgm0HhWGsmhF0htg6uutEqHz-h9xXLc/s1600/Adventure+Time+wake+up+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="500" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Zzyvcog-6OpIuWezDpnl35tp6Vmq6B3HXJOcY7QriPKQ66ZzKX6j9PS0Br62unSDi5UlJbsMZFyKnBm9w_uMX1aZK1oQEllxMF9ga7Cx7mSifgm0HhWGsmhF0htg6uutEqHz-h9xXLc/s320/Adventure+Time+wake+up+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I snapped awake, and on reflex, I released my hand, and with it a
shockwave of biotic power. The blinding light above me slowly
adjusted to my vision as I spun off the table and on to solid ground.
It felt cold and rough, like snake skin. The shockwave knocked
several of my operators to the ground, Collectors, and unfortunately
none of them had weapons. I reached for my pistol... only to be
greeted by bare flesh. It just dawned on me that I was naked. And
where I was. The dimly lit cavernous corridors of a Collector ship.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A blaring klaxon rang all around me. And with it, a horrific buzzing.
I looked around and saw them, Seeker Swarms, pouring into the cracks.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM can you hear me? I need some serious body hacking right now if
I'm going to get through this!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Miss T'Som, you're speaking again... that was admittedly clever of
Harbinger.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No time! We got Seeker Swarms! Do we have Mordin's countermeasure
on file?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>That would require armor, which you don't have.</i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shit!” I broke off in a dead sprint towards where the swarms
were less prevalent.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Think think think! What about my Warehouse....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt something in my teeth. With some effort I spat out my key and
palmed it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just in time to see a door that was locked in front of me. Perfect.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I lunged forward and slid the key into the door, it yielded and
opened into my Warehouse in a flash of blinding light.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I was surrounded by a war stockpile any paranoid conspiracy
theorist would be proud of.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slapped on some armor, readied an SOS, and got ready for war.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“SAM...crank up my adrenaline, get some combat routines uploaded
into me...and you know what... crank the Andrew W.K.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-31628276458480596592019-03-13T23:29:00.003-07:002019-03-13T23:29:53.710-07:00So Where Have I Been?
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My god...has it
already been this long? Guess I should explain myself.....</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So...I was going
through my life as per usual. Writing about games in a prolonged
internship, working at a warehouse, and trying to flex my creative
muscles here on this blog with an ambitious creative writing exercise
prompted by the rise of JumpChain, peppered with my thoughts on this
and that. All while taking very close care of my grandmother. The
very last parental figure in my life.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then...around May of
2018, she had to be admitted to the hospital, and then everything
changed at practically lightning speed. It was revealed that what was
continuously diagnosed as Stage 3 Kidney Failure was actually
identified as Stage 4 Renal Carcinoma, a highly aggressive form of
kidney cancer. One that had metastasized to her spine. She was given
six months to live.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And, as if that
wasn't bad enough, my girlfriend, who had been working at a hospital
getting her doctorate in Oncology (ain't that poetic) got hit with
the biggest piece of garbage tragedy ever. Her hospital was located
on the big island of Hawaii...and the tragedy was the eruption of the
volcano Kilauea. Losing contact with her by seeing it on the news on
the exact same day as the cancer diagnosis. It was an absolute
bombshell that left me devastated.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So...naturally I
dropped everything and spent as much time with her as possible.
Getting her into surgery to remove the tumors on her spine, which was
successful, helping her every single day with her physical therapy,
keeping her spirits up while going through the early phases of
radiotherapy. Cleaning up, keeping the bills paid, shouldering as
much responsibility as I could. If she had six months, then by God
Almighty I was gonna help her fight that thing and win.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah...well that's
not what happened. About two months later, she started getting chest
pains and had to be readmitted. And it was discovered that she was
displaying signs of Congestive Heart Failure, which is something that
runs in the family.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alright, no big
deal, just radically change her diet to be lighter on salt and make
sure she just keeps to a comfy chair and bed and keep fighting the
good fight. That was my attitude at least.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unfortunately...
that's not what happened. Her condition worsened and she had to be
re-admitted. Apparently, the cancer was spreading to her spinal cord
and messing with her brain. Motor function ceased, her ability to
speak started to go, and her CHF exacerbated her body's ability to
fight off the effects. The Death Spiral had begun.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So, with a heavy
heart, I exercised her Power of Attorney and transitioned her into
hospice care. And on August 5<sup>th</sup> 2018 at 11:56 pm, holding
my hand... she passed away....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to work with a
funeral home, get her cremated as per her wishes, and deliver a
eulogy in her memory, while still not hearing a word on the fate of
my better half.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That...is the first
half of this story. As emotionally and spiritually taxing as this
experience was, it would feel almost quaint compared to what would
happen next: settling her estate. My grandmother had spent fifty
years of her life as an RN, and spent her golden years raising me,
buying a quaint home to raise me in, and when she finally retired, it
was basically just us dealing with keeping the little place together
and getting her credit cards paid. She..left behind no life insurance
but managed to keep some nest eggs tucked away and started using them
to pre-emptively pay off her credit card debt. The logic being when
she died, I'd be able to just use the lump sum of those assets and
what I had squirreled away to settle everything, retain ownership of
the house, and be set for the rest of my life. My childhood home
under my name.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But...crap got
complicated. After looking over her record books, it was obvious
things weren't going to be enough, so I did everything in my power to
close that gap. Taking out some cash left behind by my father.
Selling plasma. Renting out the house to two people who needed
shelter and were willing to pay. Working overtime at work and working
on writing commissions. I started a GoFundMe page. Basically
everything short of selling my organs on the black market.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And all of it
basically backfired. My veins weren't big enough to safely sell
plasma, it was a safety risk. The housemate situation only lasted a
single month since the affected parties had to deal with members of
their family dealing with a loved one, a grandmother who had also
died of cancer because screw your carefully laid plans. Overtime
wasn't being offered (long story) with any attempts at promotion or
pay grade increase getting shot down despite multiple interviews. And
my writing pitches weren't being accepted. And the GoFundMe basically
died on the vine.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What about distant
family who could help? They basically fell apart or got into major
trouble on their own the minute she died. Uncle got divorced. Aunt
kind of cracked from grief and bought a summer home somewhere. My
cousin basically went off the radar but not before stealing some
cooking recipes from the kitchen. I...was basically on my own.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And as for that
chunk of cash left by daddy dearest? I combined it with as much money
as I could and tried to meet the estate's difference head on. And the
result looked like a reasonable gap of about three to four thousand
dollars that could be paid to the estate by the end of April. It
looked like everything would work out if I just kept at it. Then I
found out there was some debt I couldn't account for, and my
opportunity to make good on a promise to the woman who raised me on
her deathbed basically died.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So...I've been
packing up my things and trying to sell this small and modest home
for a decent bit of cash, move into an apartment, and get on with my
life. Packing up my old life tied with strong emotions to roots I
stubbornly put down for well over two decades, cutting as much as I
can, and trying to put the most soul-destroying six months of my life
behind me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what really hurt
me throughout this time: the depression, the grief, the absolutely
non-existent amount of time I was given to fully process the
multitude of life choices coming my way, etc., was my inability to
return to JumpChain for the longest time.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In addition to
actually making two Jumps of my own for the broader community to use,
Deadly Premonition and Destiny 2 FYI, I had developed a style guide
and a set of rules for how I wanted to engage in my own personal
isekai-esque adventure through the multiverse. Write it out like a
semi-professional fanfic, have established rules and mythology and
try not to mess with it. But above all, that the main character would
effectively be a version of me...from roughly December of 2016. With
a limited, albeit defined, pool of knowledge and references, as well
as a defined mental state where things hadn't completely devolved
into the darkest timeline. And it was damn near impossible to return
to that semi-innocence. Not just in terms of getting back into that
headspace, but also the fact that my first Jump was in trying to stop
galaxy-wide genocide via the Reapers in the world of Mass Effect.
Exchanging a real-life tragedy for a daunting fantasy one waiting to
happen. And the fact that it would be too easy for me to slowly turn
it into a potentially unhealthy bit of wish fulfillment. That in at
least one timeline, a magical God-like being had pity, let me go on
an odyssey of power and adventure, then let me come back to magically
cure cancer for everyone so everything would be great and dandy and
there would be ice cream and all that jazz.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It just wasn't what
was good for me at that particular moment. And it's the reason why
I'm only just now writing out why this blog has been dead for so
long. I basically went to war against the most insidious killer in
the modern age, and lost in a gruesome death of a thousand cuts. And
I'm only just now getting the last of my wounds patched up.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know that life
changes and changes fast but...the good news is I know it's not the
end of the world. My sweetheart let me know she was completely
alright. My..needs on the whole are quite simple. And my current
income is more than enough to support me. Plus the windfall of this
whole thing can mean that...in a roundabout way I will be able to
have a new home to call my own hopefully in a few years. I just have
to keep moving forward.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So, what I'm trying
to say is... I'm back. It'll be a while before this is regular again.
But I haven't forgotten what I do here, and I haven't forgotten the
small but dedicated readership I have here.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So... pour yourself
some 24<sup>th</sup> century vodka and feel free to turn off those
robot appendages. You're among friends, and the drinks are on the
house.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-1245894958102238762018-04-30T16:04:00.001-07:002018-04-30T16:04:29.651-07:00Multiverse Desperado A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 26<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 26: The
Reaper War Begins</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Feron what's the
location of the Council!?” I exclaimed, slipping on my armor and
priming my pistol.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The Salarian
dalatrass is on the Citadel with Councilor Udina. I tried reaching
the asari leader but she's gone completely dark. Her last known
location was Illium. The Turian Primarch is currently on Palaven
leading the Turian Navy against the Reaper assault on their system.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How are the
Hellfire Cannons holding up?” I asked, adjusting my SMG and double
checking my pouch of thermal clips.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“They're taking
care of most of the ground troops but the artillery bombardments are
keeping the turians pinned.” Feron dashed past me, clipping a
shotgun and an assault rifle to his person and joining me to my
shuttle.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I knew I should have
sent them some anti-personnel turrets to deal with the smaller
threats.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll call in
Aria, see if we can't get some of her men to help support them. We
have to get those Councilors together for the war meeting.” Liara
brushed shoulders with me, checking her pistol and picking up her
pace.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do we know where
Shepard is? The crew? The status of the Normandy?” Jack chimed in,
cracking her knuckles and stretching her neck as she joined our trek
through the corridors. Quickly crushing some painkillers and walking
confidently; albeit with a limp.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“According to
Hackett they went their separate ways. Garrus went to Palaven and
went all Doomsday Preppers despite protests by his family. Joker
stayed with the Normandy while it got repaired, though honestly at
his level of hospitalization he didn't have too much of a say in the
matter. Grunt joined Wrex on Tuchanka and started opening
negotiations with the salarians.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Does that have
anything to do with all the Genophage research you guys were
forwarding?” Jack started.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes,” Liara and
I declared in unison.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good god, you're
turning into twins.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was surprised a
hole didn't burn into Jack's skull from the looks Liara and I gave
her at that statement. The fact we didn't bump into any of asari
commandos dashing around prepping for lift off doubly so.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Speaking of
salarians, it looks like Mordin Solus has been working extensively
with the Salarian Special Tasks Unit at one of their bases. If that
is to be believed they're holding on to a bargaining chip for the
negotiations at the Citadel.” Liara rattled off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Twist some arms
and get him and the asset to the Citadel. By the time they arrive
negotiations will have evened out. Time is precious and we can't have
the Reapers separating them from us.” I rattled off in a rehearsed
tone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How exactly am I
going to convince one of the best espionage organizations in the
galaxy that negotiations went well?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tell them that
negotiations went well and the exchange was scheduled for ASAP and
delivered to Tuchanka.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wouldn't that
classify as lying? One of the worst things you can do to your
comrades in a war scenario?” Feron remarked while doing a shell
count of his own.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“By the time they
get the message through the Extranet, it won't be a lie. It's a hail
mary, but it'll shave precious hours off the commute.” I responded.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, that's
the Variza I know.” Jack quipped.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Clever and
forward-thinking?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Batshit insane
and quick to conclusions.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The four of us
finally stepped out of Hagalaz base and stared at the barely held
together Kodiak shuttle that brought us here to begin with, my five
asari commandos piling in and going over final flight preparations.
Even with all the repairs and touch-ups done on it, it still looked
like it was past its prime.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoaNny7R2HK32E8ZBAY_91dxNZwi3zMkm50RL7hrFTuMNZcvO8jAMu5sZUK5GIY6NlnwaSiZqsvQssPFt09sgl_Xw7CJ6PgQI_nXvH6dYkluJJDKLV9d_9vxVp6w0zBeExcvKryaPGsP0/s1600/what+a+piece+of+junk+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="188" data-original-width="500" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoaNny7R2HK32E8ZBAY_91dxNZwi3zMkm50RL7hrFTuMNZcvO8jAMu5sZUK5GIY6NlnwaSiZqsvQssPFt09sgl_Xw7CJ6PgQI_nXvH6dYkluJJDKLV9d_9vxVp6w0zBeExcvKryaPGsP0/s320/what+a+piece+of+junk+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We're gonna fly
headlong into a war for the entire galaxy in that piece of shit...”
Jack cringed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Trust me, it's a
smarter idea than holing up in there. Out there we have a fighting
chance. Otherwise they just have to drop an indoctrination device
nearby and watch us kill ourselves.” I said casually.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It still seems
like a needless risk. Besides, we could better coordinate from the
base rather than what I can forward to our office at the Citadel.”
Liara remarked. “Are you sure this is a good idea? There's a good
chance they'll miss the base.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“With the Reapers
it's a matter of when, not if. Besides, we aren't heading straight
for the Citadel. We're heading back to my R&D wing on Illium.
Consider it a detour.” I hopped into the shuttle. “Come on
ladies! Hell's a waitin' and I want first crack at the devil
himself!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With that, we left
Hagalaz behind.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Things were
decidedly different during this particular trip through the stars.
First, since the entire shuttle was carrying six asari armed to the
teeth and a drell info broker, I had to awkwardly stand in the
cockpit with Jack. If that volus I got this ship from survives this
culling I'll throttle him. This newfound position gave me a front row
seat of the chaos that was starting to erupt across the Milky Way as
my foul-mouthed pilot charted a course to the asari republics. Ships
were practically crashing into each other trying to get through the
mass relays. Damaged or disabled vessels were peppered about, either
blasting out desperate SOS signals or remaining dark due to paranoia
over who would hear it. Or worse. I shivered at the thought.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack managed to keep
her flying smooth until we entered Illium's atmosphere. And compared
to the messy space ways, it was acting like business as usual. Giant
holo displays of the system's top 10 most attractive and powerful
CEOs, fluff videos about the grand benefits of signing three-century
contracts with various companies for peanuts playing in obnoxious
traveling ads, and absolutely nobody hunkering down in bunkers. It
has almost been an entire day since Earth has been hit by the
Reapers. I started grinding my teeth at the ignorance of it all. I
wanted to turn the ship around and leave....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Instead, I turned
around and gave my team a sit rep.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvQJeYtWJKGdFUrx0ZPaOirEHPHTjKWnNV0g-5eDB4mJukw8hdyZGCaMblsYEDJdmD3ODtQEIsiZY31gWBBFhkdrz-6fssFK11puQ3mS-gzYRxd8s8bUCKEyD4apSHS_gRZggK1JEyRI/s1600/Gearing+Up+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvQJeYtWJKGdFUrx0ZPaOirEHPHTjKWnNV0g-5eDB4mJukw8hdyZGCaMblsYEDJdmD3ODtQEIsiZY31gWBBFhkdrz-6fssFK11puQ3mS-gzYRxd8s8bUCKEyD4apSHS_gRZggK1JEyRI/s1600/Gearing+Up+Gif.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright everyone,
here's the plan. Once we are cleared on the helipad we must all
proceed to the Maintenance Wing. Basically the final step of our
product getting stress tested before it goes out to our employers.
Our task is twofold. First is to get as much of the supply as secured
as possible. Weapons, thermal clips, power cells, whatever. Pack as
much as you can, stack it as high as you can go like it's the end of
the world and you're looting the place for everything that isn't
bolted to the floor.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So basically what
is actually happening?” Tana commented with a smirk, fiddling with
her Omni-Tool and maintaining a collection of glowing light shields
around her person.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Just be glad
you're one of the best sentinels in the squad and that I'm not a
formal CO Tana, otherwise I'd be slamming you into the hull right now
with my mind.” I snapped back. She broke her gaze with me first,
her violet face possibly getting a little more violet in
embarrassment.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So we came all
the way here just to get some bigger boomsticks? I don't exactly see
the urgency when half the Systems Alliance already has stuff like
this.” Jessia inquired, casually calling biotic power in her free
hand while lazily holding her shotgun on her lap.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This isn't arming
ourselves, this is cleaning house. Removing as many possible points
of leverage that can be turned against us as possible. When this
company and its supplies get blown to kingdom come I want to be sure
the bones are picked clean already.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How exactly are
you certain that those will even be Reaper targets?” Xun commented,
her features obscured by her helmet as she tweaked the scope of her
sniper rifle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My mind jumped to
the cyberized vorcha that ambushed me on Omega. I shook my head,
“just a feeling,” I breathed. Then I cleared my throat and
continued.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The second major
goal is dealing with the files. Tana, that's where you and your tech
skills come in. Salvage as much as you can from the archives. Failed
projects, successful projects. Stuff that didn't get off the ground.
Once you have that and we can confirm the data is secure, delete the
archive. Once that is done I'll need you to upload a program to the
local holo display network. A prerecorded message.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But that would
require codes and admin privileges only granted to the media board.”
Tana remarked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I got you
covered.” Feron spoke up, tapping several icons on his Tool. Tana
checked her tool a moment later, her expression brightened. “Oh.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Seems standard so
far, Variza, any VIPs we need to prep for extraction?” Lexa spoke
up as she readjusted the armor plating on her suit.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Got a bit ahead
of me there,” I replied with a smile, I saw the edges of a smile on
her face through her more translucent helmet, “that is actually
major goal number three: Project Revenant. A highly valuable target
of great importance that I have kept at a secure location in the R&D
wing. For the sake of the greatest secrecy his sole interaction has
been with preprogrammed LOKI and our recently minted LAUFEY mechs.
They go in, bring needed supplies and food, then leave on a regular
basis. The only other one that can enter his room is me via a DNA
lock. Objective is simple: extract the VIP of Project Revenant from
his isolated wing and get him out of here.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara gave me a
skeptical look, “How exactly are we going to go about extraction?
The Kodiak shuttle here is already full to capacity, we can't exactly
bring on more equipment, let alone more people.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And I am not
gonna fly this giant metal gnat any longer than I have to!” Jack
exclaimed from the cockpit.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don't worry,
objective number two and some forethought have handled our extraction
plan. It's just a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Like I said.
Batshit insane and quick to conclusions. We're making our descent
now.” Jack remarked. A few moments later we felt the shuttle land
on stable ground.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
From there,
everything proceeded like clockwork with Lexa taking over as leader.
I might pay the bills but she's got over a century and a half of
field work experience, so naturally I always defer command to her.
Tana, Jessia, and Lexa took off with Feron and Liara to
Manufacturing, Xun was dropped off on an adjacent building for her to
set up her sniper nest, and Lexa along with her Tiamnes (I never
could remember her name, only that she is the asari equivalent to a
second in command) with me to R&D.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQanUj3KpNYVKkfgM1kQXvBRcUPltDXG-XDKdnmT4kKQ7DsBrfcr4wSLxMBEq6gkNajySNtoHAMUMCqW262a4h1o3fxfzh7WnffbegxgpWW-XNSWPaZ6y5pgT-6jvUCNnledUL5DDFV4/s1600/Magnificent+Seven+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="480" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQanUj3KpNYVKkfgM1kQXvBRcUPltDXG-XDKdnmT4kKQ7DsBrfcr4wSLxMBEq6gkNajySNtoHAMUMCqW262a4h1o3fxfzh7WnffbegxgpWW-XNSWPaZ6y5pgT-6jvUCNnledUL5DDFV4/s320/Magnificent+Seven+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
During the trip up,
I mused on the fact that the penthouse up top was most likely fully
prepared and waiting for me, complete with an oiled pillow and sheets
with a generous thread count, and I'd probably never rest in it
again. Once the elevator doors opened we were greeted by several
armed soldiers in armor wandering through the wing on patrol.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ahh Miss T'Som,
What a lovely visit. We thought you were taking an extended leave of
absence.” One of the soldiers replied with a light wave, his voice
a low baritone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I traded looks with
Lexa's squad, gesturing to her to arm their weapons and spread out
before turning back to the guard.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes, I wanted to
be sure that everything was being taken care of. Delicate secrets and
company assets, you understand if I enjoy a personal touch.” I gave
him a cold smile as my hand slowly dropped to my hand cannon.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...yes of
course. I mean I've only been part of the staff for about six months
so this is quite the first time.” The guard stammered as one of his
hands shook. Several guards in the background began to move quickly
and more deliberately.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ah...” Alright
enough of this charade, “Then you should know that I gave everyone
the day off and told security to lock everything down as of
yesterday? Complete with payment for the day in question with
overtime included?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The fake guard
gulped. Probably because he realized he got caught, and that he was
staring down four armed asari.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Secure the
asset!” he screamed as he readied his SMG. “Eat lead space slut!”
he assumed the firing position, ready to fire.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUduMJGDqc6S7Q5zZaaMnYl8RYdrb2iKFzTJjpSfV4JD6CkbxMiK_-7Nbyaz3irHO44ukbB2drPolXtFaLC51McknvdaPuWQMHcGY-4WNhQpFnAc0Tnb4pgw-LN78_u6F4-doaeX2CADg/s1600/upset+panda+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="306" data-original-width="500" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUduMJGDqc6S7Q5zZaaMnYl8RYdrb2iKFzTJjpSfV4JD6CkbxMiK_-7Nbyaz3irHO44ukbB2drPolXtFaLC51McknvdaPuWQMHcGY-4WNhQpFnAc0Tnb4pgw-LN78_u6F4-doaeX2CADg/s320/upset+panda+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I moved my other
free hand and with a thought grabbed his right leg in glowing blue
power. With a second thought I slung him into the armored work bench
nearby. Lexa finished him off with a quick double tap from her rifle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The rest of the
patrol reacted to the gunfire by readying their weapons and opening
fire. My old training with Shepard kicked in as I dropped near a
workbench for cover. “Goddammit I don't have time for this!” I
yelled out loud as I fiddled with my pistol, activating its phasic
mode. Screw your shields, I'm in a hurry.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In several fluid
rote acts of muscle memory I called up a barrier to complement my
shield, popped out of cover and took fire at the three other men I
could see. The recoil on the gun shaking my body with each impact as
the rounds tore chunks out of the improvised cover, blasting through
the guards' armor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, handle
the stragglers, I'll take point!” Lexa declared as she ran down the
corridor taking a hard right into the next room, her arms thrown in
front summoning a wall of telekinetic power. Her squadmate with her
at the ready. Out of sight, I heard more voices call for
reinforcement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A beat later Tana
was in my ear via comms.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, we're not
alone here! Who are these assholes!?” Her voice barely audible
under gunfire.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If I was a
betting woman, I'd say Cerberus trying to rob me blind.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Cerberus?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you know any
other human organization that would be quick to call us 'space
sluts?'”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good point. The
message is broadcasting now, but these guys aren't exactly standing
around and letting me work on the copy and purge.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My gaze turned to my
two bodyguards, just in time to see them walking into an impromptu
kill box. Flanked on both sides by relentless gunfire. A pincer to
catch their spear position.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hang in there! I
can call in back-up but it'll shut off all consoles in the building.
Get the others to cover you and keep me posted!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Roger that!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With a bark of
effort and a confident thrust of my hands I unleashed a wealth of
biotic power straight above the team, generating a singularity. All
of Cerberus' precious cover started floating off the ground, swirling
violently into the epicenter. The soldiers shortly followed them. By
my count about a dozen of them were caught in my black hole like fish
in a zero-g barrel. I sprinted towards my teammates, my pistol
barking death at my targets.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By the time I closed
the gap, the air was full of nothing but half-baked weapons, floating
tables, and armored corpses. With another surge of will I dispelled
the gravity well, letting the debris float to the ground.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a beat to
catch my breath I rushed past Lexa, “We're officially on a time
limit ladies. Cerberus is giving the others trouble and I can't call
in the security mechs without doing an emergency shut down. We have
to buy Tana some time to finish up.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My Tiamnes will
buy you some time, Variza.” Lexa replied, gesturing to her number
two. They quickly formed a defensive line as I continued towards the
ominous door at the back of the room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It looked like any
other door in the facility. Except instead of the usual holographic
display in the middle used to open and close, there was a handprint
scanner, hardwired into the door. And above it, a camera. One was for
my personal access, the other was to make sure my guest could double
check the mechs dropping off supplies weren't sabotaged or whatever.
It was primitive and analog as hell compared to everything else, but
it worked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I placed my hand on
the scanner and the doors opened, revealing a modestly sized room. On
the right was a bedroom nook, draped in exotic sheets of some sort of
velvet fabric; a small bowl filled with some clear solution next to
it. Adorning the walls were more banners in the same faux velvet
material, etched with banners to an empire long since dead. On the
left was a workbench, covered haphazardly with tools, globs of
omni-gel, and the discarded parts of other guns.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And hunched over it
was the revenant of Project Revenant.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvx1A8vdp3N3bD2Hc__uBOIbiaOKSWrhFM-E-KXO1wZ9eR1eN5Gff_pfbN46chvOeFhxakIxVGAmK91iRoJiEX58HJ25BZ00k55l_06d16LuFP12SooD3laoK5Ho1cQMI5LcB1p4R7qfA/s1600/Mass+Effect+Javik.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvx1A8vdp3N3bD2Hc__uBOIbiaOKSWrhFM-E-KXO1wZ9eR1eN5Gff_pfbN46chvOeFhxakIxVGAmK91iRoJiEX58HJ25BZ00k55l_06d16LuFP12SooD3laoK5Ho1cQMI5LcB1p4R7qfA/s320/Mass+Effect+Javik.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Prince Javik, the
last of the Prothean Empire.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Javik, we have to
go now. We have guests and they're not exactly looking for
prisoners.” I declared, looking over my shoulder to see my
squadmates laying down suppressing fire on Cerberus' latest arrival.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He turned sharply to
address me with a harsh glare, his yellow eyes piercing. “Give me
five minutes. My latest design is close to a breakthrough.” his
tone was cold and ruthless, his accent approximating African.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I blinked in
disbelief. “Really? We're close to being shot to ribbons with the
Reapers knocking on our front door, and the first words out of your
mouth is to-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I said give me
time!” Javik barked, throwing out a hand in a show of force. An
instant later my body burst into green flames. I grasped at my
throat, unable to breathe as unseen pressure began to weigh down on
me, burning pain seeping into me. The pain and pressure stopped once
I fell to my knees, scrambling desperately for a release.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I know all too
well what we are up against, Variza T'Som. Which is why you will give
me the time I need.” He flexed his hand casually to dispel the
green traces of biotic power and returned to his work.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then Tana came back
on the comms. “Variza, it's Tana. Feron, Jack, and Liara have set
up a defense and I'm starting the purge now. It'll take me about five
minutes if we're lucky. Think you can hold out?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After taking in a
sharp breath of air, clutching my chest and punching the floor in a
stubborn fit, I responded. “Yeah I guess.” My eyes flickered back
to Javik before I turned back to join Lexa's defensive line,
reloading my pistol. “Be thorough, we can't let Cerberus get any of
these secrets.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Big talk from
someone who has done nothing but plunder secrets.” A third voice in
my ear chimed. A voice I haven't heard since Donovan Hock's party.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQsWueQuM4pciu5OU6p3AzA9-DQqcabrPu-8vBRYzMk6pR3pX2jo_GPhXCV_Rr2ZpOWcil9oo9qS7BIqTqydAN99OV-d0-Yqo79GQEkYlCZZoUlqhBN1jRHymJRiJ-6cAu314PIf4pjQ/s1600/Mass+Effect+The+Illusive+Man.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQsWueQuM4pciu5OU6p3AzA9-DQqcabrPu-8vBRYzMk6pR3pX2jo_GPhXCV_Rr2ZpOWcil9oo9qS7BIqTqydAN99OV-d0-Yqo79GQEkYlCZZoUlqhBN1jRHymJRiJ-6cAu314PIf4pjQ/s320/Mass+Effect+The+Illusive+Man.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, I'll
skip the questions you'll relish answering like how you got this
frequency and how you hacked in, Illusive Man and just get right to
asking what do you want?” I sniped while swapping out my pistol for
my SMG.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I think my
associates have made that perfectly clear.” He smarmed. A stray
shot punching a hole near my left ear seemed to punctuate the
statement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You are nothing
more than a thief and a wretch,” his tone turned venomous and
strained, “you stole secrets and skills from humanity and used it
for your own gains. Robbing us of what is rightfully ours.
Experimental nuclear launchers, anti-aircraft artillery, black hole
guns. All projects by my scientists at Cerberus. All mysteriously in
your possession already patented and iterated upon. Typical of an
asari, for all of your talk of unity and care, you treat every other
race like children. Being able to dictate who is allowed to have what
like you're all-knowing.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh yeah, real man
of priorities. Your home planet is getting wrecked by genocidal
machines and your first thought is coming after us. Doesn't yell
crazy at all!” I popped out of cover and struck the air with a
shockwave. Concussive blasts rattled past the guards disrupting what
little blindspots they had, a beat later they were shredded by
gunfire.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The Reapers will
be dealt with in time. You see, while you have been looking to
destroy, I have been aiming towards a greater goal. If we could
control the Reapers, there would be no force in the entire Milky Way
that could oppose us. Humanity will truly blossom and we could secure
peace for all.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“First of all, you
sound like a cartoon villain. The Reapers killed their own creators
and countless others before us, do you really think you will fare
much better?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza,
something's wrong.” Lexa spoke up.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Keep firing
Lexa,” I snapped back. “Second, this make humanity great again
shit makes me want to vomit. You are literally advocating for
ambition far beyond your reach.”<br />
<br />
“I guess you have to be
human to understand, Miss T'Som.” Illusive Man stated, his voice
steady and brimming with contempt.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But yes. We
haven't been able to stop them before. But then again...that's why
you built the Crucible.” I swear I could hear him well up into an
ecstatic smile on that last statement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You wouldn't.”
I growled</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, they've
stopped firing.” Lexa replied urgently.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wait what?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Funny thing about
using penal labor on such a project, a lot of those prisoners were
human. Humans who quite fervently share my views Miss T'Som.” there
was a beat almost approaching self-awareness on his part. “You work
with what you have.” So close. “And what I have is the best
chance in the galaxy to getting those robotic bastards to kneel to
us.” I could hear him take a break to take a drag on his cigarette
before continuing. “It's just a matter of securing the Council and
the war effort on the Citadel. Which is where your weaponry comes
in.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then felt a
powerful blast ripple towards us, like a gust of wind tinted with the
smell of burnt ozone. A few moments later, Lexa's partner flew behind
us into Javik's workshop, her body crumpled on the floor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lexa and I popped
out of cover and saw two figures walking towards us. The first was
helmeted and covered in a skintight tactical catsuit. Female build.
Packing an SMG and pistol like me. Her body utterly drenched in
biotic power making her glow an ethereal violet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSr6-OzmLzfrUcFKGg6s_xeZiCo1FhLpVFcXXrcVGWWf50MjnOrxwjJrBS_pqqwg3EYWObo8e7t45q008RCDwgu50uGpMddFs5BX1Z4NXLxMDyiKBdo0Zp9p8zrrm6k9x2an7QMGCvG84/s1600/Mass+Effect+Kai+Leng.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSr6-OzmLzfrUcFKGg6s_xeZiCo1FhLpVFcXXrcVGWWf50MjnOrxwjJrBS_pqqwg3EYWObo8e7t45q008RCDwgu50uGpMddFs5BX1Z4NXLxMDyiKBdo0Zp9p8zrrm6k9x2an7QMGCvG84/s320/Mass+Effect+Kai+Leng.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The second was The
Illusive Man's deadliest hitman: Kai Leng. Armored head to toe in
light plating, his Asian features obscured by painful-looking
cybernetic implants across his eyes and lower jaw. But that wasn't
the worst of it, his kinetic shield continued to flicker with red
energy discharge, almost in time with the twitches coming from a
device on his left hand. It reminded me of the gauntlets Iron Man
wore. But I knew better; it was an improvement of the energy
absorbing technology I saw painfully grafted on to Benezia so long
ago. His right hand casually twirled a deadly ninjato.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As for your
condescension to what we are capable of, we've already made strides
in bending the Reaper technology to our command. A mere stepping
stone to our future. Allow my loyal associates to demonstrate.” The
Illusive Man then clicked off of the comms.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tana spoke up once
more, “Variza we're almost done here but there are these
fast-looking assholes with swords now coming at us.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let me know the
instant you're done.” I replied quietly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The catsuited biotic
spoke up first, her accent carrying British intonation. “Alright,
you get one chance to surrender and we'll consider letting you live,”
she honestly sounded like she was displeased with the color of her
nail polish. On balance it made the threat more intimidating.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alright, time to
Tarentino my way to a run out clock.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That depends on
the rules of the surrender, naturally,” I smirked, maintaining my
firing position and keeping my pistol steady. “I mean is this
technically a surrender under war time as per Earth's Geneva
Conventions, or an unspoken contract between both parties with shaky
to no placed regulations overseen by a third party with no intention
of emulating an impartial committee? You see those circumstances
factor greatly into my-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You're stalling.”
Kai Lang replied as deadpan as a ninja assassin can given the
circumstances, “You have until the count of three to throw down
your weapons.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He didn't even have
time to reach one before the workbench full of power cells came
flying at him with the force of a freight train.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCglC2piiwMOYz7dfaC4AqNL9y5551R3uQ9lPYAH4MNYtQ8XGZCNmwWPJ_63BRgCjtXAqv-D_ABfBtAbp6fjRR1qp3XYgIlQE-wEbsGASisrE4LRk5o8y3KYGh4LEWrzvl9LKnUEBr64/s1600/surprise+clown+punch+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="169" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCglC2piiwMOYz7dfaC4AqNL9y5551R3uQ9lPYAH4MNYtQ8XGZCNmwWPJ_63BRgCjtXAqv-D_ABfBtAbp6fjRR1qp3XYgIlQE-wEbsGASisrE4LRk5o8y3KYGh4LEWrzvl9LKnUEBr64/s1600/surprise+clown+punch+gif.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Dammit
Tarentino!!” I bellowed. The battle cry fizzled faster than Leng's
confusion when he cut the table in half with his energized blade.
Cutting through the table – and the power cells – in one clean
cut.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I dashed behind
cover as the deafening concussive blast erupted from the destroyed
cells, belching fiery energy.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What's the
plan?!” Lexa replied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hold them off for
five minutes!” I yelled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That is not a
plan!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's a work in
progress! Start working!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I heard static
discharge mere feet away. On reflex, I rolled from my cover and
turned around at the ready, just in time to see the remains of the
table turned into scrap metal by Kai Leng's sword, the power cell
explosion looking like it irritated more than hurt him. I fired
several shots his way, which were inevitably deflected by the red
crackling shield he called up with his gauntlet hand, creating a
partial dome of energy around him.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lexa took advantage
of my cover fire and charged at him with the force of a krogan, her
biotic-enhanced bull rush knocking him into a nearby wall. Lexa had
her rifle aimed straight at his gut, but before she could pull the
trigger, Leng changed the grip on his sword and and sliced through
the weapon, cutting it in two, a follow-up slash going for her
throat. I swear I saw a thin flicker of purple fill the air as she
widened the gap with another dash, reaching for her sidearm.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I remembered
that Leng wasn't the only problem in the room as a warped piece of
metal flew right at me. I ducked, then took a beat to look behind me
to Javik's workshop – they were fine, and called up a small biotic
wall to meet the Cerberus agent's gunfire. The wall was perfect,
redirecting the rounds back at the shooter, causing her to break off
her assault to dive behind a pillar. Yet I felt the kinetic force of
several haymaker punches on my torso and head, the force punching
through my suit and causing me to lose balance. At a glance I saw
that one of the tables appeared to be missing a pistol.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Of course...
never have a gun battle in a weapon factory,” I wheezed to myself
as I maintained my focus, keeping my pistol trained on the agent's
location. With a flick of my wrist, I launched a biotic throw, bent
like a curveball pitch to hit the agent behind the pillar from the
left side, my pistol ready to fire on the right. Right on queue, the
agent rolled to the right. I started firing, aiming for her legs and
thighs, hoping to cripple her. To my surprise, instead coming out of
her roll she zipped to another piece of cover, her body a blue blur.
I hastily fired too many shots to catch her, my pistol clicking
impotently.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I felt my feet
leave the floor. In an instant, I was twenty feet in the air,
suspended helplessly. The next, I felt like someone had pushed me out
of a plane with an ACME twenty-ton weight glued to my head. My vision
was full of bright flashes, followed by searing red as the pain hit
me in waves. My arms and legs felt numb, I could hear the light
cracking of concrete underneath me, followed by the sound of armored
fiberglass shards from my helmet hitting the ground.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slowly tested my
limbs and started pushing myself off the ground, but before I could
reach for my pistol, I saw it fly away from me, into the hand of the
agent as she towered over me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before she could
even start with a one liner, I threw out my power at the ground,
knocking me back to my feet. If her face wasn't masked, I would wager
it would be of surprise. With rote familiarity, I lunged forward into
a slow stance with both fists at the ready and struck her with an
uppercut to the solar plexis and a punch to her face. She doubled
back at my enhanced strikes, thank you motorized limbs, her helmet
starting to crack. Before she could regain her firing stance, I
looked over the table and saw the Hel assault rifle, heavily modified
from the N7 Valkyrie assault rifle courtesy of Jump's weapon box. Any
port in a storm. I called it to my hands and without checking for a
clip, I started firing on the agent.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAa8OPKhXHpyAbvK3EQMfz259HWcEjoiOwBGa_jrI-kKOurlFouuTtQtTTac257X-mEgnsPzKmYtBWDvrsCsql2wAj6-bFLIxmPUWMSJHyN-W3KEgcyB2QHNpFGfeJayrFvVqB8dNtcg/s1600/spray+it+with+plasma+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="512" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBAa8OPKhXHpyAbvK3EQMfz259HWcEjoiOwBGa_jrI-kKOurlFouuTtQtTTac257X-mEgnsPzKmYtBWDvrsCsql2wAj6-bFLIxmPUWMSJHyN-W3KEgcyB2QHNpFGfeJayrFvVqB8dNtcg/s320/spray+it+with+plasma+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The rifle spewed
rounds in a constant stream of flaming orange. The kickback dug into
my shoulder, exacerbating my pain, but I tried to maintain stability
as best as I could. The agent zigzagging further and further away
with her own sliding ability.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As the rifle clicked
empty, I unhooked a grenade from one of the tables and chucked it
behind her.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Never start a gun
battle in a weapon factory!” I bellowed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before she could
react, the device exploded in her proximity, expelling a thick white
viscous substance all over her. It quickly hardened, pinning her to
the floor and leaving her helpless.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Especially when
your enemy owns it!” and I slammed the rifle's butt into her face.
I checked her pulse, she was still alive.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Holy crap that glue
grenade actually worked. We've been having serious issues in testing
with that. Doesn't matter now. I have to help Lexa.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I followed the signs
of battle, drops of blood, blasted bits of wall, scorch marks etc.,
to find the two of them still engaged in a close quarters slug out.
From what I could tell, it was a stalemate. Kai Leng's ninjato gave
him a large advantage in terms of reach and lethality, but Lexa's
quick bursts of speed kept her just far enough
from a killing blow. I could tell from her stance that the strain was
starting to take its toll, Leng's assault not letting up. She needed
help.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, the purge
is complete, but these Cerberus guys have locked down the exits. We
won't be able to get anything out of here with this much firepower.
The entire building is a killbox.” Tana chimed in my ear.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I couldn't help but
break out into a smile, feeling my Warehouse key in my belt pouch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah...for them.
Activating security protocol Honeytrap.” I replied, quickly running
my hand over my Omni-Tool, “Xun, pack up your stuff and get to the
roof of the building. Set up a nest near the door and wait for
further instructions. Tana, once your group sees an opportunity,
rendezvous with us. 'Cause things are about to get loud.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Protocol Honeytrap
had three different levels to it. First, a fundamental lockdown of
all doors, windows and elevators, reinforced with several foot-thick
armored plating and coated in shields, all durable enough to
withstand artillery fire. The second was a high-end dampening field
built on the principle of a Faraday Cage, scrambling all
communications and catching any would-be intruders off guard.
Finally, it would activate all available LOKI and LAUFEY model
sentries to activate and immediately open fire on anyone not
registered on the company's registry via an internal database shared
among each unit on an individual basis that was strictly analog. If
you wanted to hack these things, you'd have to physically get to one
and start crossing some wires.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was originally
meant to hold off an assault by the Reapers or the Collectors in case
things went FUBAR, but as a cockroach motel for Cerberus, it'll work
just fine.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2iiqZ307MLwQJTY4gCgukjMh5apSg_WJfvBagUXh0kA73a9A7LzfQzHouBsu3YWo96xmPixkWrcS3Zq9DSOotLLo2aw72wYI_rZuEKlrj7J9T5eOINHXhrOmLr2rB7bdfQJLqm1qcvE/s1600/gundam+gunfire+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2iiqZ307MLwQJTY4gCgukjMh5apSg_WJfvBagUXh0kA73a9A7LzfQzHouBsu3YWo96xmPixkWrcS3Zq9DSOotLLo2aw72wYI_rZuEKlrj7J9T5eOINHXhrOmLr2rB7bdfQJLqm1qcvE/s320/gundam+gunfire+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The mechs activated
immediately, deployed from chambers hidden in various compartments on
the walls and in the floor. Small humanoid sized sentries with
pistols and tall gorilla sized enforcers – based on the YMIR power
suits – utilizing shotguns. My comms filled with static as the
dampeners took effect. Since I couldn't get a clear shot on Kai Leng,
both him and Lexa were moving far too fast for a clean shot, I caused
a shockwave between the two, pushing them apart for two crucial
seconds.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Back off Lexa,
the cavalry's here!” I declared, shortly before the LOKIs and
LAUFEYs started opening fire on Kai Leng, filling the small room he
was in with high-speed energized particulate.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But in a blur of
red, Kai Leng slashed through the first wave mechs, his ninjato
cutting through them like butter.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhzwJSfFWgHG3ttN5pxn-w8xAWfFFR-LpBReQByylWSWZSE8xiEd2RK9lHjOZVvLhpbmWTEkkPohJu7MCvQ-6dDwW7qTzV87nELzE-O8EoERruB40HL0ui9h6ojoK_wfjKqhw11NkK7Q/s1600/Metal+Gear+Revengeance+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="400" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhzwJSfFWgHG3ttN5pxn-w8xAWfFFR-LpBReQByylWSWZSE8xiEd2RK9lHjOZVvLhpbmWTEkkPohJu7MCvQ-6dDwW7qTzV87nELzE-O8EoERruB40HL0ui9h6ojoK_wfjKqhw11NkK7Q/s320/Metal+Gear+Revengeance+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh come on!” I
yelled in exasperation as Leng cut through three LOKIs in the blink
of an eye.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shut up and start
shooting him! Break his mobility!” Lexa yelled, firing several
deliberate semi-auto bursts. The blasts hampered Leng's movement as
the LAUFEYs own barrage caught up to him, pinning him to the wall
with his shield gauntlet being his only defense.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to think fast.
That shield doesn't just absorb kinetic energy, it can redirect it.
And if I didn't have something to put him down when the rebound
happened, we'd all be screwed. I turned around and looked back at the
weapons on the table, looking for something that could overwhelm
Leng's shield. If one trip to the well worked, I had to hope there
was enough water for a second go.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I found one: A
Spindle Thrower. It was based off of krogan tech, which was naturally
a straightforward brute gun: a full on giant spike thrower. But the
whole weapon was so bulky and hard to wield, it was meant to be used
only by krogan after all, we kept having trouble converting it for
general use. The first change was an arm brace meant to be worn while
the weapon was in use, generating mass effect fields to disperse the
immense blowback by the weapon. The second was to switch from thermal
clips to power cells for ammunition, all to enhance the initial
stopping force of the weapon. I won't get as many shots as the krogan
model, but the ones that connect are sure to put the target down for
good.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I dashed to the
table and quickly strapped the brace on to my right arm and loaded
the thrower with a power cell, maintaining my focus while the
gunfight raged behind me. No time to test this stuff, just one good
shot should do it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to meet Kai
Leng again. But before I could brace myself for a shot, his gauntlet
arm erupted in a horrendous wave of energy, a deafening boom
followed. Glass shattered, the mechs were all shredded to scrap, and
Lexa and I were launched into a wall. I could feel my helmet warped
by the blast, my visor more like an open window through all the
broken pieces. Exhaustion was finally starting to settle in. And Kai
Leng was making his approach, barely even a scratch on him, his
ninjato raised for intimidation.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I readied the
Spindle Thrower and began to pull the trigger. Leng began surging
with red energy again, his pace quickening into a lethal dash.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then he vanished
from my sight in an instant. Replaced by a stream of green energy
arcing to the right. I looked to my left to see Javik and Lexa's
Tiamnes, all holding smoking rifles.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My calibrations
are done,” Javik replied in a steady tone, “also thank goodness
you didn't fire that thrower. That brace was defective, it would have
ripped your arm off.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I took a moment to
look at the bracer, the haunting image of having to fight a war
without an arm floated in my head. I pulled it off as quickly as I
could.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We need to get to
the roof. Xun should be on the other side so I can talk her through
the manual override.” I responded, getting up to my feet while
discarding the brace and helping Lexa to her feet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What about the
others? And the remaining weapons? How are we going to get them out?”
Lexa asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to look at
the remains of the wing. Holes shot out of the floor, an entire
section on fire from the Hel rifle's inferno rounds, tables chopped
to pieces, and the entire place was littered with broken glass and
destroyed sentry bots.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We'll use the
elevator door.” I replied, fumbling in my belt for my Warehouse
key. “We just have to hold on until the others get here via the
stairs so we can regroup on the trip down.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before I could
continue my explanation, a hole in the wall erupted in powdered
plaster, Kai Leng coming toward us in a mad charge, his face singed
by Javik's laser rifle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Javik opened fire
once again, overwhelming Leng's red dome with green energy, spewing
sparks of discharge everywhere.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Surround him!
That shield only covers part of his body!” I called while running
to flank Leng, Lexa taking the right.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And with one great
thrust of coordinated movement, Lexa and I unleashed our own kinetic
slam on Kai Leng, with Javik maintaining concentrated fire on his
front. I threw everything I had left into this slam, and Lexa wasn't
holding back either. One moment he was struggling against a seemingly
endless beam of particle energy, the next there was a hole in the
floor...and the one below it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then unhooked all
my remaining frag grenades and dropped them into the hole. Their
explosions sounding like music to me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The stairwell filled
with movement. At Lexa's call, we all stood at the ready... then
relaxed when we saw it was Tana. Shortly behind her was Jessia,
helping Liara carry Feron. Jack's back was to them as she walked
backwards up the steps, taking several shots at an unseen pursuer.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza,” Tana
panted, “I think I love robots now,” she flashed a smile. She
then took a beat to look at the chaotic remains of the battle with
Kai Leng, “what the hell happened here?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Kai Leng
happened,” I replied, “come on, we have to get back down and
start packing up.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wait, <i>the</i>
Kai Leng?” Tana asked in bewilderment. “The infamous hitman who
was discharged from Alliance service for killing a krogan using just
a service blade?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The one who
screamed anti-alien rhetoric while he was being discharged? Claiming
the asari unfairly had all the galaxy's wealth and that the quarians
are hoarding thieves?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The one who has
fought Commander Shepard and his crew multiple times and lived to
tell the tale!?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Goddammit Tana
you can jerk yourself off later, we got weapons to get out of here!”
Jack interrupted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is that...a
prothean?” Liara spoke up, finally addressing Javik.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then an ominous
teeth-chattering buzz filled the building. A low pulsing bass
vibrating across everything, and made everyone freeze like deer in
headlights. The sound that followed it would haunt me forever.
Screaming. Countless voices screaming in terror as some unseen entity
swiftly ends their lives. Explosions thrummed in the distance.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8zQ7BhIypqPEODtfPWqy9vkab8pqdS4cQD-iQ2Tj5xGR2PHkEjVRYGmJD3kuhqvH8Jguci4IOSxGVqev2CTm1pOiR3FeR59aJdTsCSd-U1X3P9iRguzvX9uKtEh8K0VTY3Lqr3o-XA4/s1600/mass+effect+reapers+descend.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="500" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8zQ7BhIypqPEODtfPWqy9vkab8pqdS4cQD-iQ2Tj5xGR2PHkEjVRYGmJD3kuhqvH8Jguci4IOSxGVqev2CTm1pOiR3FeR59aJdTsCSd-U1X3P9iRguzvX9uKtEh8K0VTY3Lqr3o-XA4/s320/mass+effect+reapers+descend.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Reapers were
here.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Scav now, escape
later, talk then, 'kay?” I pattered.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right,”
Everyone agreed in unison.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The following
minutes went by in a blur. All of us running down the stairs back to
Maintenance, seeing the aftermath of Cerberus' defense against the
security drones. The mechs won, but only just. Weapons put into
crates. Crates loaded up. Crates moved into the Warehouse. When we
ran out of crates, weapons were removed of all clips and tossed in.
Clips were thrown into bags. It was quick and sloppy, but it all fit
in just fine. Then in the mad dash back up to the R&D section
going up to the roof, I remembered the Cerberus agent still stuck to
the floor with the glue grenade.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Cut her free and
bring her with us.” I replied. Javik complied to everyone's
surprise. A few swipes of a heated blade later and we had a hostage.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The trek up the rest
of the stairs to the roof meanwhile was another story.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why the hell
didn't you put in an emergency elevator?” Jack breathed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“One. Never skip
leg day,” I replied. Everyone else groaned. “Second, too easy for
it to be exploited.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is no one going
to mention that our boss has a portable storage warehouse?” Jessia
commented.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It also makes it
easier for your enemy to trap you. Much like what you have done to us
right now.” Javik interjected, ignoring Jessia's non-sequitor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The whole building
shook, rattling some loose foundation above us in a sprinkle of
powdered stone. The rest of the trip up happened in a manic silence.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We reached the door
to the roof feeling like we all ran a marathon...with a wild boar
duck taped to our backs. I banged on the reinforced door, calling out
for Xun, praying that none of the Reaper's forces got her.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Xun, come on!
There should be a keypad near the door.” I yelled, pulling a small
lever on my side to reveal the keypad on hers.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The code is
two-one-eight-one! Hurry and punch it in!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was sounds of
a struggle outside, greatly muffled by the reinforced metal. I
pounded on the door in a vain hope that someone will hear me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Did anyone else
expect our boss to be threading so many needles on this mission?”
Tana asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes.” Liara and
Jack replied deadpan.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So this is how
she is all the time?” Javik asked. “No wonder you primitives are
desperate.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not helping!” I
snarled back at Javik, returning to pounding on the door.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the third slam of
my fist, the blast shielding opened up, revealing Xun in the
threshold. Her armor torn to shreds, her helmet in a crushed heap on
the ground, and her cyan face covered in cuts as well as a deep scar
from her left eye to the right side of her chin. Behind her was a
pile of twitching husks, human bodies converted into cybernetic
thralls as shock troops for the Reapers.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8sRX_vsMtEJsBC1Ok0J5LZNxzQkg8TKLWiS0OVmBckJmkch5c1eEVKHOLHn7BcwbuwbJTkAGZmoyBJ1xUWkktpGNWIBS0DBa3qyXGAl61aiYpcNrdW3LMRNTwUSS8xMH2ev5qpCZ202I/s1600/mass+effect+husks+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="211" data-original-width="500" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8sRX_vsMtEJsBC1Ok0J5LZNxzQkg8TKLWiS0OVmBckJmkch5c1eEVKHOLHn7BcwbuwbJTkAGZmoyBJ1xUWkktpGNWIBS0DBa3qyXGAl61aiYpcNrdW3LMRNTwUSS8xMH2ev5qpCZ202I/s320/mass+effect+husks+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Get out here!
More are coming!” Xun seethed in pain, clutching her pistol while
leaning on the door's frame.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The instant Lexa
gave the order we were already moving. Setting up our weapons and
keeping our backs to one another as we sent out an SOS signal through
our Omni-Tools. The cloudy sky slowly giving way to a legion of
horrific machines.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Who the hell is
going to hear this, blue?” Jack looked around, her expression
turning slowly to horror. “You said it yourself, asari media,
everyone's a sitting duck.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wait for it...”
I replied through gritted teeth as I finished my message on my tool.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then had a chance
to see my prerecorded message repeat on the holo displays throughout
the city, my face taking up entire buildings peppered throughout the
city.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Attention people
of Illium. This is Variza T'Som of T'Som manufacturing. As you all
may not be aware, The Reapers have begun attacking the Milky Way
galaxy. The Council have assembled a war summit, and countless
colonies have already gone silent.</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
was then shaken from seeing my ultra HD mug by Xun calling out more
enemy contacts. Husks. Hundreds of them. I stood alongside my fellow
warriors, took aim, and unleashed bullet hell. Dozens of the horrific
bodies collapsed, only for scores more to crawl over the corpses like
ravenous fire ants.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>You may have made
up your minds a long time ago about me. How I conduct myself. You are
still free to have those thoughts. But right now, I am addressing
this asari public for one simple declaration: we must leave now.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We
had finally run out of thermal clips, the last of it used up by
Jessia's Zealot shotgun reducing three husks to frozen shrapnel
carried by a throw into another wave of husks.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Cover
our flank!” Javik declared while stepping forward, firing his laser
rifle in quick bursts, slicing through the horde like butter. The
skies above began to fill with beams of red, followed by an aerial
bombardment by the Reaper flagships. Deafening booms followed as
buildings collapsed and warped, briefly interrupting the broadcast.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>But this is not a
declaration of retreat. This is a call to arms. We always believed
that the universe is united by love. That our very existence is proof
of this. Well to all of us, this is a sign by the goddess Athame: put
up or shut up. Because that is what this war is about. It it is about
what we are fighting for, not what we are fighting against.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
last of our grenades left our belt as the commandos unleashed their
biotic fury. Singularities came into existence only to violently
explode into energy. Husks crushed into lumps of nothing by warping
fields. Scores more thrown violently off the roof to splatter
horrifically on the ground below. But the blasts were starting to
slow down, I could feel the exhaustion from everyone. Even Tana's
flamethrower was starting to run out of power. And the husks just
kept coming.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We
can't stay here!” Feron bellowed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hang
on! Have a little faith!” I called back. “Come on...have a little
faith,” I muttered again under a labored breath.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>For those of you
who have lost your ships or have no way of escaping, do not worry.
Before this broadcast began, an SOS signal has been sent to
humanity's United Systems Alliance, the Turian Navy, The Quarian
Flotilla fleet, and to several other organizations that owe me a
personal favor. It has been broadcasting the instant news reached me
about the attack on Earth. When reinforcements arrive. You know what
you have to do. Take the essentials, hold your loved ones dear, and
get ready to fight. Heal the sick, donate what you have to those who
can use it, be the angels of compassion I know you all can be. So
that when the dust settles, we will have no regrets with what we did
on these crucial days.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>This message will
now repeat.</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtG1R4oKgW-5IW-qFAHI413FN4FBtjEayNpOgRd3SI8UBFDYFzVATfrkY5Me-OE-SzE44e-d4vbgnEHTAC9ZePlKoaJGY6c6dHpfMAtLOHs4y2G93gPFnChElzvNNsE7cc-VRa0_5fnM/s1600/Mass+Effect+Reaper+On+Ground.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtG1R4oKgW-5IW-qFAHI413FN4FBtjEayNpOgRd3SI8UBFDYFzVATfrkY5Me-OE-SzE44e-d4vbgnEHTAC9ZePlKoaJGY6c6dHpfMAtLOHs4y2G93gPFnChElzvNNsE7cc-VRa0_5fnM/s320/Mass+Effect+Reaper+On+Ground.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
the building in front of us shattered in a cacophony of smoke, flame,
sound and glass. A Reaper warship breaking through it like a crude
battering ram. The crustacean-like machine glowing with an ominous
red light, focusing on the ground below us. The husks still advancing
and limiting our space. Pushing us back to the door. The Reaper
started making large imposing strides towards us.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
took a grave look back at the rooftop door, then steeled myself.
They're gunning for me, and if I didn't do something, we were all
going to die. I turned my back on the fighting and pulled out my
Warehouse key. With effortless action I jammed it into where the
keypad was and opened the door to my Warehouse and leapt inside.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
was on the clock. I had maybe two minutes at best.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With
what little biotic strength I had left, I pried open the service
crates and began searching as quickly as I could, despite my legs
feeling like jelly, my heart pounding harder than a Death Metal band
and my head full of so much pain there was red in my peripheral
vision.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
I found it. The old Cain nuke launcher. Except it was now known as
the Cain Z1. It went under the name of Project Gungnir for the
longest time, but I didn't want to dress up the fact of what I was
wielding in my hands.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
started loading power cells into it. Filling it up full. Twenty or so
cells for one shot. I then tweaked the sights and the homing reticle.
The Reapers have armor that can handle anything short of a
concentrated assault by the deadliest starships in the galaxy, but
the lenses they use for those devastating laser blasts can be seen as
a weak spot. A window of about ten seconds for a projectile, or an
orbital tactical strike to get through. If I was threading the needle
any harder I'd have to also be driving a runaway car while cramming
for a Master's thesis.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
held the trigger on the launcher to charge it up and dashed through
the Warehouse back into the chaos.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Everyone
looked surprised to see me running forward with a weapon of mass
destruction. If there were protests, I didn't hear them. I ran
forward and dropped into a firing stance, lining up my shot with the
incoming Reaper, anticipating it about to reveal its lens and warm up
to blast us to kingdom come. Javik cut through a swath of husks to
give me breathing room. I finally grounded myself, just in time for
the charge to come up over ninety-five percent. The Reaper readying
its deadly payload across the massive highway of Illum's metropolis.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Smile
you sonofabitch.” I snarled. The launcher erupted as a shell of
swirling energy flew with blinding speed at the Reaper. Just in time
for its lens to open crackling with red power. All I saw next was a
mushroom cloud completely engulf the leviathan. I turned on my heel
and ran back to the group.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Bjd-psWlPpHvOH7wiLPHOUAmhHHD_pBI54m_v9GEQTGq1F6ccxOfu_5CeZi8r7FtSBqeujmW6kB4nV1NEFqaxGwcYYjdhQFvR6whRsPqXidmKfJHJrCepzfY2jaOFoexEqphhGJFiWo/s1600/mushroom+cloud+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="496" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Bjd-psWlPpHvOH7wiLPHOUAmhHHD_pBI54m_v9GEQTGq1F6ccxOfu_5CeZi8r7FtSBqeujmW6kB4nV1NEFqaxGwcYYjdhQFvR6whRsPqXidmKfJHJrCepzfY2jaOFoexEqphhGJFiWo/s320/mushroom+cloud+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Brace
for the aftershock!” I yelled in vain over the sonic boom cascading
from the blast, shattering glass in a thunderous maelstrom. The team
thankfully were already moving. Grouping together and erecting
massive walls of biotic power to buffer and redistribute the
shockwave. Barriers designed ti resist and deflect while all of us
ducked and grounded ourselves to the ground with bolts and mag
charges.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
wave hit and the husks were scattered like leaves in a hurricane. The
explosion expanded, melting nearby buildings to slag. A large
electromagnetic pulse echoed from the epicenter, delivering a potent
shock to countless troops below.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It
all happened so fast. The aftermath an eternity of torment.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
the dust finally cleared, the blast dissipating. The Reaper had lost
several of its legs, crashing into the building on its left, large
chunks of its upper interior were shredded. Its lens completely
destroyed. The slagged buildings on both its sides began collapsing
on the monstrosity, burying it. I didn't want to see if it was dead,
I was just glad I bought us a few more precious minutes.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
collapsed to the ground, throwing away the Cain, feeling dirty using
something like that.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...one
down...a couple hundred-thousand more to go.” I heard Tana quip
before dropping down next to me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We
cannot stay here. When the Reapers notice one of their number is
down, they will retaliate.” Javik remarked.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah,
and comm interference kind of goes to crap when a nuke goes off,
blue.” Jack mentioned.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not
to mention these suits can only block so much radiation before we all
cook from the inside out.” Jessia remarked with a bit of venom in
her voice.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well
we won't have to worry about that,” I breathed in relief, looking
up at the sky, noticing some familiar silhouettes through the heat
and swirling chaos, “'cause the cavalry just arrived.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And
the Normandy is in front.” Liara gasped in relief.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My
next immediate memory was waking up in the med bay with the rest of
the team being treated for radiation as well as bullet wounds and
internal bleeding. Doctor Chakwas made a comment about how it could
have been far worse, and Tana not wanting to know how. Then she
commented how not two minutes after the evac, the Reapers bombarded
T'Som Manufacturing down to the foundation. I allowed myself to smile
at the comment. It was practically a guarantee that Kai Leng was out
of the picture.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
got out of med bay and made my way towards the cockpit, moving
carefully to not disrupt any of my wrappings. I had to thank Joker in
person for saving our butts.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
got into the threshold, the words already on my lips.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Joker,
I don't know how you got out of hospital so fast but holy crap, that
was a save for the...record...books.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Except
it wasn't the small humble frame of Jeff Moreau I was addressing,
complete with short beard and Alliance cap. It was the build of a six
foot four musclebound beefcake with hot Latino features.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Il33AZF_ZluWwdS1Fh4MYsn3EVkfD7-go_BkMmaLdTlcI_IQXW8a1FhpZnWJOsxQk5mpCEJIVgEQHpWiLVCdnZtfSPrQUU4rqfLIawNPzG9aALrTdLY4k5fSULXIwv6myzv_392-_4E/s1600/Mass+Effect+James+Vega.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Il33AZF_ZluWwdS1Fh4MYsn3EVkfD7-go_BkMmaLdTlcI_IQXW8a1FhpZnWJOsxQk5mpCEJIVgEQHpWiLVCdnZtfSPrQUU4rqfLIawNPzG9aALrTdLY4k5fSULXIwv6myzv_392-_4E/s320/Mass+Effect+James+Vega.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
He
turned his head and flashed a toothy grin and a flirtatious wink,
“Hey, no problem, lola. It's all part of the job. James Vega, at
your service.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm
dreaming.” I replied.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm
flattered.” He smiled, looking me up. “But maybe save the romance
for when you're not holding your guts from falling out. I mean,
Reapers and a nuke that close together? Surprised you're not glowing
and grew a third arm.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before
I could come up with another comment, he looked away, as if receiving
a call from nowhere. A moment later his face immediately lit up in an
epiphany.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh
that makes plenty of sense. Sorry about that Miss T'Som. Joker is
still recovering, but SAM managed to keep his pilot profile on
record. Turns out I'm actually compatible for it.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah.
Makes sense, there's barely anything in that head to begin with.” I
muttered.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What
was that?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nothing.”
I looked away. “Actually it's funny you bring up SAM. Can you
contact Shepard? I need to talk to him about adding some new
recruits.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
Normandy made its way to the Citadel shortly afterwards, my team and
I rested the entire time. I learned to cherish the respite in all of
its calm and tranquility.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because
the nightmare has only just begun.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-48265914850968991862018-04-30T13:48:00.002-07:002018-04-30T13:48:45.246-07:00Where The Hell Have I Been?Hey there patrons.<br />
<br />
Don't worry, I haven't fallen off of the non-existent edge of the earth (damn Flat Earther idiots) and I am in fact quite alive.<br />
<br />
The best way to describe this is that I've been much busier than normal. The site I'm on is pushing for more in-depth comprehensive material, which means more long-form articles, which means more research which means less time for me to faff about with off the cuff opinions and cute little fanfiction projects that I put WAY too much thought into.<br />
<br />
But the good news is the JumpChain is still ongoing. For those who have been reading from the beginning, you should know I'm building up to the finale of Mass Effect.<br />
<br />
But I have a bit of a rule for myself: Do not go over 30 chapters. Cuz at that point I might as well just rename all the proper names and pitch it as a legally dubious novel.<br />
<br />
But since Mass Effect is such a large-spanning setting, I'm effectively making the final chapters jumbo-sized to make sure closure is felt and all the set pieces and heroic moments are out of my system with no regrets.<br />
<br />
Also, My Thoughts are going to be much more sporadic despite many topical opportunities passing me by.<br />
<br />
For example: Black Panther, Avengers 3, God of War, Detroit (and David Cage as a whole), and Warframe. All had windows of opportunity. All passed.<br />
<br />
But as I said, I'm still here. I'm just throwing myself more into my work. Which means I probably should unwind a bit more.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading to the end, and do not stare directly at the bouncer on the way out, he has social anxiety.DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-82205971424080912362018-03-07T17:26:00.002-08:002018-03-07T17:26:15.165-08:00Multiverse Desperado A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 25
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 25: The Calm Before The Storm </span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Several months have
passed since I took the role as Co-Shadow Broker. I wish I could be
more exact, but after the first few weeks on the station on Hagalaz,
I had completely lost relative sense of time. Even with multiple
clocks, a strict work schedule and the work station emulating a
proper day and night cycle, my entire time there felt one long session.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was also the
closest thing to safe in the entire Milky Way I could be while the
Collectors were still out there looking for me. As well as God knows
what else. Call it paranoid, I call it peak survival.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The bright side is
my newfound power and authority lead to plenty of new allies and
resources. The day after we had consolidated our power, Liara and I
managed to track down Feron. Indirectly or not, he did play a role in
us getting here after all. The vid chit we took from his place was a
confession of jobs he did for the Broker in the past and that he was
going to defect to the Council for asylum. We found him and managed
to call off the hit. Even better, we hired him for help. Of course it
took some explanation that the new boss was different from the old
boss, but we did ultimately win him over by shutting down the
operations he had a hand in to ease his conscience. It always pays to
have a drell in your info network as well, so it was a win-win
situation.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The second order of
business was to arm Shepard's crew to the teeth for their big
missions, both present and future. Arming the Normandy with
experimental bleeding edge armor plating taken from a metallurgy
experiment gone horribly right in the Terminus Systems. Equipping the
weapon systems with a top of the line cannon courtesy of my boys in
R&D, and calibrated by one of the best artillery experts in the
galaxy, Garrus Vakarian. Top of the line propulsion systems and a
complete overhaul to the Normandy's overall maneuverability, thanks
to notes from both Joker and Tali. And of course, a complementary
supply of my top of the line best stock.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There were even some
very last minute operations we pushed his way. One to further cripple
Cerberus' resources, the other to get Shepard a few last crucial
shreds of help. The first was a complete shutdown of Project
Overlord, a secret Cerberus project designed to completely mentally
dominate the geth, with human brains as the source of power. Shepard
told me Legion found the whole exercise greatly unsettling, and the
poor soul that was used for the project was shipped off to Grissom
Academy. There was an attempt by a krogan scientist out in the
Terminus Systems to genetically engineer superior krogan
supersoldiers. Ones who could develop an immunity to the Genophage.
They made it just in time to prevent Cerberus from getting the data,
we don't want a repeat of Virmire after all, and extracting the sole
success to the project. We call him Grunt, he has the tactics of all
the greatest krogan warlords in history in his head and is a peak
specimen of his people. He also likes chocolate. He was completely on
board with fighting the Collectors. And there was a breadcrumb trail
left behind by one of Mordin Solus' medical students, Maelon Heplorn.
He was performing highly unethical experimentation on willing krogan
species looking for a cure for the Genophage as well but out of
altruism. Mordin wanted the research destroyed, citing that it was
necessary, but I implored Shepard to hold on to the research, that it
would be important later. He listened.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But before Shepard
and his team made their final preparations for the Omega-4 mission, I
made several requests. It was the least he could do after everything
that happened. The first was, admittedly, a bit of petty payback. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But man oh man was
it worth it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since I can't fully
risk going outside the station and the Broker got a hold of all my
privileges as a stockholder in my own company, I haven't exactly been
able to check back in or find out who exactly else on the Committee
Board sold me out. The stock and admin stuff were a few clicks and
passwords away. But I really wanted to make a statement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So using some QEC
hologram tech, I projected myself into the next board room meeting.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good evening
everyone.” I said casually to the various sharp-dressed
businesswomen, their mouths agape at my sudden appearance.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som, this
frequency and this meeting is for board members only.” Zela
interjected, her violet face twitching in annoyance.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh how right you
are, of course, thank you for reminding me. Shepard, come in and take
her away.” I replied, gesturing over my shoulder. Commander Shepard
then physically entered the board room accompanied by Justicar Samara
and Thane Krios.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Zela Madine.
Commander Shepard, Council's Special Operations Tactics and
Reconnaissance. You are under arrest.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This is an
outrage! You can't arrest me in the middle of a meeting!” Zela
seethed in impotent rage as she was put in restraints.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh thank you once
again Zela. You are absolutely right.” I mentioned again barely
able to contain my glee as I moved an ice cream sundae into frame,
cherry and all, “take her confidants away as well.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By the time it was
over, there was just me and four other asari in the room. Shepard and
his team returned. I took out a spoon, ate a few bites, then composed
myself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well then, on to
business. As you may know, there was a bit of a coup that happened at
this company recently. Someone who thought they could get rid of me
and pull this company into a direction more viable long-term. And
while that is understandable, looking to the decades ahead and all,
but I'd appreciate it a lot more if you at least had some dignity
about it...” I snapped down on the cherry for emphasis, “...and
not get caught with a smoking gun.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The remaining board
members exchanged looks of shock and confusion.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As much as I
appreciate the celebrity status we have as heads of companies here in
the asari republics, the interviews, the parties, the-” I looked
away in partial embarrassment, “-titillating photoshoots for
Sexiest CEO competitions, I like to think of myself as a woman of
standards. When you are caught participating in a red dust smuggling
ring, kidnapping corporate opponents, paying assassins to deal with
certain people in your way... “ I threw a quick look over to Thane
on that comment, “...and working with the Shadow Broker, which may
I remind everyone here is a dangerous <i>criminal</i> organization,
all take me down in a hostile takeover, you have no place here at
this company.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I swear I could hear
at least one of them audibly gulp in anxiety. I finished my sundae in
utter silence.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som...what
exactly happened with you and the Shadow Broker then?” One of the
asari spoke up, her eyes like a doe in headlights.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Simple.” I
flashed a toothy smile. “I won.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The rest of the
board broke off eye contact with me, looking back at the holo display
in the middle of the table, expressions ranged from terror to
nervous.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So before we go
over the details of the meeting, may I ask how was everyone's
weekend?” I asked casually, moving the sundae glass aside.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I never had another
person try to stab me in the back at that company ever again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The second favor was
addressing a giant loose end. One last blind spot that I could not
account for: The Andromeda Initiative. A project with the express
purpose of identifying habitable planets in the Andromeda galaxy, and
sending thousands of people from the different Council races beyond
the mass relay network into dark space, millions of lightyears away
to that galaxy and to colonize it. Specifically the part a certain
soldier named Alec Ryder played.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Officially, Alec
Ryder was a bona fide hero for humanity. He was part of humanity's
historic trip through the Charon mass relay near Pluto, part of Jon
Grissom's task force – yes like Grissom Academy – and even
served during the First Contact War against the turians. Even after
all that, he underwent the N7 program and stayed on the Citadel to
serve humanity further.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then about twenty
years ago he was disgracefully discharged by the Alliance when the
Council got wind of his illegal AI research. When you have a horror
story like what the geth did to the quarians, the galaxy is going to
have very low tolerance for such projects after all. The cited reason
as for the development was an attempt to cure his wife, Ellen, who
had developed an incurable disease from long-term exposure to Element
Zero. She wasn't just his wife, but also a legitimate pioneer in
engineering, developing human biotic implants. It was most likely due
to those extraneous circumstances he wasn't executed immediately.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is why I found
it abundantly curious that he was hired to work with Jien Garson, the
eccentric billionaire behind the Andromeda Initiative. Out of
everyone to hire for such an undertaking, choosing him in particular
raised several red flags.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We couldn't actively
shut down the Initiative itself. It was developed in the private
sector, so it basically remained off the Council's radar. Plus I
could only imagine every Council member kept it in the back of their
mind as some form of safety net. Well if the Reapers totally wipe us
out there might be hope for those guys in Andromeda.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I had to be sure
we had every possibility exhausted. Any possible development that
could give us an edge.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEb_erutKC1TqFXM5deZmNbW7riRxeKtL6tU1F_d3ZRuKagbpHYAtPk-sAcravJiORtS-t4kE_Pl8THPYZqmGjnxpB1jO7GkmANHJVDeuHHs0AIfryhtLDZOpnCWZHwJGImp-I69LevFQ/s1600/Mass+Effect+Hyperion+Ark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEb_erutKC1TqFXM5deZmNbW7riRxeKtL6tU1F_d3ZRuKagbpHYAtPk-sAcravJiORtS-t4kE_Pl8THPYZqmGjnxpB1jO7GkmANHJVDeuHHs0AIfryhtLDZOpnCWZHwJGImp-I69LevFQ/s320/Mass+Effect+Hyperion+Ark.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I hitched a ride
on the Normandy with Shepard and we confronted Alec Ryder. He was on
some workstation overseeing the Hyperion Ark, the massive ship
responsible for preserving humanity for their six-hundred year trip.
We didn't exactly blend in. A veteran of the First Contact War being
accompanied by the first human Spectre and two respective heroes of
the Battle of the Citadel together in the same room was going to turn
some heads. It was noted that Ryder was considerably older than
Shepard, more so in attitude than appearance. I kept mentally putting
a streak of silver into his combed black hair, and there were more
lines and wear and tear on his face compared to Shepard. Despite both
of them being some of the toughest humans in the entire galaxy, Ryder
looked more worn and hard-boiled.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hands were shook,
wax smiles were flashed, and we were invited back to his lab.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The doors were
locked and the tone went from jovial to serious like someone flipped
a switch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Please tell me
this is important, Commander, we are getting ready to take off
tomorrow and I need to double check everything.” Ryder droned on in
a relaxed baritone, resting back in his chair while still maintaining
a defensive body language.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, Captain
Ryder.” Shepard began.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Pathfinder
Ryder.” He interrupted, his mouth twitching into something
resembling a prideful smile.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Pathfinder,”
Shepard continued, “we have some concerns regarding the
surprisingly fast progress that the initiative has achieved since you
joined. And given your personal history and the nature of your
discharge.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Get to the point,
Shepard.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We know you've
still been developing AI to move the Initiative along.” I
interrupted. Subtle as a tomahawk to the head; sometimes it's a good
thing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Surprising no one,
Ryder pulled out a pistol aimed at my head. “Choose your next words
very carefully Miss T'Som.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well honestly I'm
regretting my wardrobe choice if I was going to be threatened with a
pistol for the second time this month.” I replied, looking at my
formal business dress. His grip didn't loosen. Shepard went to his
sidearm as well but I gestured to both of them to calm down.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“First thing's
first, we're not here to take you in. As you said, you're gonna be
humanity's representative in Andromeda. It would be awkward if you
were incarcerated the day before, especially after your discharge
from the Alliance.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nobody wants
that.” Shepard commented, his hand remaining hovering over the
sidearm.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then please,
present your evidence that I've been working on AI against the wishes
of Council space in the private sector.” Ryder replied, his body
becoming noticeably more tense.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well aside from
your prior AI development from before, there was the fact that there
are accounts of you talking with a quarian engineer with significant
experience analyzing the geth.”<br />“That's correlation, little
blue detective, not causation.” Ryder chided.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Countless
purchases made by various tech companies, specifically VI development
and recent software for implants.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We have a lot of
biotics coming with us, we have to be sure their implants don't
malfunction or break down with six-hundred years of stasis.” Ryder
quickly replied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes,” I said
with a smile, “which is something that would be the concern of
people outside of your department.” Ryder's jaw tightened.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And there is a
transcript my sources have discovered of you actively seeking the aid
of the Shadow Broker to obtain research from other underground AI
development projects before they were shut down by the Alliance, the
Council, or Shepard's own network of shadow troopers.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You have no
evidence of tha-” I cut him off by playing the audio. “-ahhh
shit.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ryder moved to shoot
but Shepard already had his pistol drawn. “Stand down, Ryder.
People hear shots it'll draw attention. You wouldn't want that. Like
she said, we're not here to arrest you.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ryder finally
relaxed his stance and let his arms drop. Shepard holstered his
pistol.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, what do
you want to know?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well we want to
see if it can be used in controlled environments for combat
applications. Coordination, logistics. You know, viability for
clandestine missions.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“For the Council?
You have a death wish too?” Ryder remarked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Actually this is
for a personal mission I'm undertaking. Spectre authority I think
will override the Council's concerns.” Shepard commented.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Like that'll
work.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I already have a
geth on my crew taking orders and being an invaluable asset. I don't
see why not.” Shepard's tone was so matter of fact it almost made
me surprised. It got a cocked eyebrow and a bemused smirk from Ryder
nonetheless.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVcAJ10r2Nfc2xWdqREQ5o-Xth66Fh9JL4m6PS9p68CsNBHYENl31RNAsvmBDbHsU6YERwUHLt9zn66VcKk3DPmwFgYFcJ8JYEKnxC2iQU4ernEOjDxyl6MOxpwLLNx8V2_CTtRxVmUr8/s1600/Mass+Effect+SAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVcAJ10r2Nfc2xWdqREQ5o-Xth66Fh9JL4m6PS9p68CsNBHYENl31RNAsvmBDbHsU6YERwUHLt9zn66VcKk3DPmwFgYFcJ8JYEKnxC2iQU4ernEOjDxyl6MOxpwLLNx8V2_CTtRxVmUr8/s320/Mass+Effect+SAM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />Ryder turned
around in his chair and activated several instruments on his table.
And introduced us to Simulated Adaptive Matrix, or SAM. Ryder
explained that SAM was originally designed with the express purpose
of enhancing and improving organic life, working in tandem with
specialized implants based on the tech Ellen designed and taken to a
new extreme. For comparison, biotic amps are plugged into the nervous
system, SAM's implants are slipped into the nervous, circulatory,
endocrine function, and exteroceptive systems. I actually had to stop
myself from making a Six Million Dollar Man joke from how extensive
it was.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The idea was that it
was going to bolster Ellen's immune system, to help it fight off the
disease while repairing the damage done. But when Garson hired Ryder,
it was to help with coordinating the large undertaking of the various
Arks and the central command center, The Nexus. Andromeda doesn't
have mass relays or a Citadel of its own, so it made sense to develop
something on that level and fast. What better way than to utilize
SAM's other useful features. While SAM is plugged into a node, its
own personal housing and data bank, everyone with implants can
communicate with one another through secure channels and the AI gets
a constant data stream of their physical and mental health. There's
also a noticeable increase in combat survival thanks to enhanced
situational awareness and the ability to control adrenal function.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
SAM is also able to
record their actions. Not just their physical actions but their
thoughts, their various learned skills. He can then project them to
someone else, allowing them to utilize that skillset as if it was
their own. Your own personal archive of skill profiles for whatever
you need in a pinch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Holy shit...”I
gasped in disbelief.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How the hell
hasn't this thing gone rampant and converted people into husks or
something?” Shepard remarked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Because nobody in
their right mind actively wants to be one of those. So SAM keeps them
as is. And since SAM's sense of self-preservation is tied in part to
those in his network surviving, his lateral thinking skills and
problem solving are tailor-made to ensure everyone lives.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My eyes widen in
revelation. “ A computer only does what you program it to do. And
since SAM works on its own isolated network through these implants,
he can be handled in concentrated instances. No out of control hive
mind like the geth or murderous existentialism.” I remarked. “You
created an AI whose very intended goal is symbiotic in nature and
adhered to a limited but flexible form and function.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Now you're
getting it Miss T'Som. Unfortunately the profiling system is still
being worked on. You can't exactly sling dark energy around without
biotic amps, a human being can't get a benefit of a krogan battle
rage, simple biological incompatibility that can lead to problems if
you're not careful. In fact it's so tempermental and prone to abuse
and possible long-term neurological damage I restrict its use to few
select candidates and in controlled situations only.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How many of these
SAMs have you developed?” Shepard asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“One for each Ark,
and wired to their respective Pathfinder. Asari, turian, salarian,
krogan, and human obviously.”
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard and I traded
looks.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqTvp47Eyu3LGDDrwNqLqEN1NbdKL4PC_pM3Xedr9kAceKgNvK5vH1mQMBCrxwDX_SauXmFUZaicWb94u3O-iipQyHALdUoUulDCwBKkW8EhL746xCjIZfeBa1PAG3VxC-Rn6Mk2ZQy8/s1600/Wolf+of+Wall+Street+Throwing+Money+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="620" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqTvp47Eyu3LGDDrwNqLqEN1NbdKL4PC_pM3Xedr9kAceKgNvK5vH1mQMBCrxwDX_SauXmFUZaicWb94u3O-iipQyHALdUoUulDCwBKkW8EhL746xCjIZfeBa1PAG3VxC-Rn6Mk2ZQy8/s320/Wolf+of+Wall+Street+Throwing+Money+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Name your price.”
I stated.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How much would it
take to have another SAM developed, a node installed on the SSV
Normandy and implants to be used on key crew and personnel in a short
amount of time. The sky's the limit...or at least a few million
credits if I call in some favors.” I replied, my Omni-Tool out
ready to wire whatever amount declared.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som I'm
going to another galaxy tomorrow, that money is basically useless.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And don't bring
up next of kin either. My children Scott and Sara are coming with me
to Andromeda.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slouched over in
defeat. Dammit.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But you know
something. If whatever the hell you're going after is so dangerous it
has Commander Shepard asking for my help. I think I'll make an
exception. SAM, do we have any more of your baseline templates on
file?” Ryder inquired.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A cool masculine
voice droned on around us. “As a matter of fact, yes. I was just
about to delete it when I overheard your conversation. I am assuming
that plan has changed.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As a matter of
fact it has.” Ryder said with a smile.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll let the crew
make some room and inform Tali that she has a project ahead of her.”
Shepard replied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My people have
already forwarded materials and schematics to the Normandy.” Ryder
smiled. Tapping his temple as if to answer the follow-up question.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard blinked.
“I'll go back to the hangar and tell my people to make way.” and
he took off out of the room.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then it was just me
and Ryder in the room together. The Hyperion Ark floating outside his
window. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, focusing on the
Ark instead.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You should really
be proud of what you're about to do, you know?” I spoke up,
breaking the silence.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah. Going off
the map, seeing if there are any dragons out there. Quite terrifying,
but oh so exciting.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah. We'll try
not to wreck the place while you're out.” I chuckled. I thought I
heard a jovial grunt from Ryder.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You know, Miss
T'Som. The Leusinia Ark is looking for a few more volunteers. They
could use someone like you, bring your engineering expertise to the
unknown. I could put in a good word for you.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A trip to the
Andromeda galaxy. Leave the Milky Way behind. No Reapers, no
Collectors, no Cerberus. No friends... no help... no idea of what to
do.... Condemning countless trillions to death....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry,
Pathfinder,” I turned to him and put on my best smile, “my path
is here.”
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, if that's
the case, then I wish you the best of luck.” He held out his hand.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Same to you.” I
shook it. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The following day
the Nexus and the Arks ventured off into dark space never to be seen
again. A few days later SAM was successfully installed on the
Normandy. The cover story was that SAM was a prototype military
tactical VI, most of the personnel bought it. But Shepard remained
relatively silent about it to his team. Progress can't be forced
after all, they're still getting used to Legion on the ship. I know
I'd accidentally pull a weapon on him just on pure reflex alone.
Don't want to add to the awkwardness by having a synthetic mind in my
nerves and brain.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In retrospect, that
last visit ended up being more about giving Shepard yet another
advantage. I'm not gonna complain. Sometimes the universe gives you a
cookie.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTsD2FjmLsw" target="_blank">moment of truth came</a>. Shepard's team made the plunge to strike at the
Collector's core, to end their mass abduction of human colonies and
strike a critical blow against the Reapers. Honestly, it was
terrifying knowing that I wasn't with them. I wanted to be sure
they'd all survive and too much has changed for me to leave anything
to chance. But this was the one crucial step I had to leave almost
entirely to faith.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But it didn't stop
me from having a nightmare about what they were facing. The Brood
ships of the Collectors swarming around their base. The shear danger
of the base being near the galactic core, full of gravity wells and
dangerous anomalies. Then there was what was inside. Millions of
insect-like Seeker Swarms that can paralyze anyone with a single
bite. The particle beam weapons wielded by their bipedal shock
troops. The horrendous mutated monsters and giants. Worse still, the
fact that any one of them can be directly controlled by one of the
Reapers like Sovereign did to Saren. Overclocking even the most disposable of drones into an engine of terrifying power.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpsXf7Lscr0isdti6U2H56jEGsRrk2P0yeW-xqqB634gJkRU93byItSikZzfI4nNH8booC4aUrf4Je3RpajhpsiOU_Tw3ty71KnVpSZtnqgnpj7iobbaYVM6ZhUn8JVksHaLNMS-gems/s1600/Mass+Effect+Collectors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpsXf7Lscr0isdti6U2H56jEGsRrk2P0yeW-xqqB634gJkRU93byItSikZzfI4nNH8booC4aUrf4Je3RpajhpsiOU_Tw3ty71KnVpSZtnqgnpj7iobbaYVM6ZhUn8JVksHaLNMS-gems/s320/Mass+Effect+Collectors.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then there was the
greatest horrors yet to come. The ones I didn't want to bring up to
the others. The ultimate fate of the Protheans, the apex species of
the Milky Way galaxy, weren't just victims of the Reapers'
galaxy-wide culling; they also became servants. The Collectors...were
them. Heavily genetically modified with all rebellion and
individuality ripped out of them. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the countless
thousands of humans being abducted? They were being used as raw
material to create a new Reaper, one with all the qualities of
humanity but dedicated to the Reaper cause of ending organic life. No
matter what I could tell Shepard, no matter how many of the best and
brightest I could get to his cause, no matter how many weapons,
shields, armor, or resources I could forward to him, nothing can
fully prepare you for that.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet, I had to
imagine it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCk4RiKH9H0" target="_blank">going right</a>. The team rescuing as many as they can.
Joker's piloting skills getting them through the outside defenses.
Mordin finding a counter for the Seeker Swarms. Tali and Kasumi
collaborating on hacking and infiltrating the security of the place.
Thane, Samara and Grunt using their combat skills to break through
Collector ranks. Garrus and Shepard's expertise in tactics and
demolitions to find just the right spots to place bombs. SAM helping
to coordinate them all, to make sure there are no slips-ups or itchy
trigger fingers. The close calls. The points of no return. The final
plunge into the belly of the beast. The chaotic battle against the
Proto-Reaper. The discovery of the nerve center of the base. The
bombs going off. The mad chaotic dash through the base as it falls
apart like an elaborate bee hive getting crushed together with a
computer hardware factory. The Collectors collapsing under all the
duress as Harbinger roars out one last haunting threat to his
proxies.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You have failed.
We will find another way.”</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The escape. The jump
back to civilized space. The grand collective exhale to the breath no
one consciously knew they were holding.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a comforting
thought to cling to.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the return
happened. The Normandy was one hiccup away from snapping in half.
Everything except the atmospheric control systems were torn apart.
The cannons had overheated to the point of the internal parts
melting. Half of the ship's personnel had died keeping the whole
thing together. The ride back was so hellish Joker had to be
committed to a full-body cast afterwards, it's a miracle he lived
through it at all with the brittle bones he inherited from Vrolik's
Syndrome. The rest of Shepard's team didn't fair much better. Garrus
had lost part of his jaw. Tali suffered so many bullet wounds she was
on the verge of dying of toxic shock. Everybody else was being held
together by globs of medi-gel and pure grit.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as the Alliance
arrived to rescue and tend to the crew, Shepard sent out one simple
message when it was over. “They're coming. We need to be ready.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thankfully after
that nightmarish mission, things settled into an oddly zen period. In
the nights between our ongoing attempts to fund the Crucible project
and twist criminal organizations' arms into getting the Reaper War
Machine up and running early all while cutting through bureaucratic
red tape like goddamn samurai sword, Liara continuously pulled up
various forms of asari culture for me to view. It was the weirdest
form of workplace detox I ever undertook, but I did ultimately
appreciate it; the material and the candid company we now shared. I
mean if I did honestly want to be a part of this world as one of her
people it had to be for other reasons other than the telekinesis and
melding, so she was eager to share things that just could not be
fully appreciated on the other side of a television monitor.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I developed a liking
for the thirty-hour long romance epics and the poetry. They were just
the right level of saccharine and poignant to stick with me. Which
was weird considering how condescending and trite I found stuff like
it on the Hallmark channel five years and a lifetime ago. Part of me
wanted to believe it was just comforting to know that such stories of
love and friendship across the stars could still exist devoid of gun
battles and the fate of entire planets resting on the heroes'
shoulders.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as the weeks
dragged on my pace became more hurried, the workload more
intensified. I could feel an invisible clock ticking down to the
Reapers making their next move. It could be tomorrow, or next week,
or maybe they've already showed up and there was a gap in the network
that we forgot to check. Despite the smiles and the brisk work ethic
Liara and I settled into, I was utterly paranoid of when the other
shoe would drop.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then had to
casually mention it was a day or so past my birthday. My actual
birthday, not the birthday of my asari form. It was the best
measurement I had. So in a weird attempt to make up for the whole
thing, Liara surprised me with a visit from Jack, albeit with a cane
(god twenty-second century medicine is amazing), some fancy asari
vintage wines and a collection of films from my time.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You cannot be
serious.” I replied, mouth agape.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well you've been
so accepting of asari culture, I wanted to get a first-hand account
of films and media you enjoy. It should be quite stimulating from an
anthropological perspective.” Liara beamed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Leave it to you
to make a simple movie night sound boring, doc,” Jack rolled her
eyes.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I tried several
times to start a sentence. “Liara we... there's still so much to
do. What about freezing Henry Lawson's assets and finding asylum for
Oriana? You know, the guy whose so in bed with the Illusive Man
they're practically conjoined twins?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Done.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jacob Taylor's
father? The whole Flowers For Algernon situation with the-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“They've been
extracted and court martial'd already, I just got word from Admiral
Hackett.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The securing of
the Ardat Yakshi asylum on Thessia? The Temple of Athame?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Handled.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Final
preparations for the Crucible?” I rambled, flipping through my
console for anything else to do. “The scheduled martial drills with
the commandos? Cleaning the base for listening devices or bugs?
Scrubbing the bathroom!?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh for fuck's
sake, blue. A couple of drinks and old movies aren't gonna kill ya!”
Jack finally yelled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have to agree
with Jack. There is such a thing as working too hard. And who knows
if we'll ever get another opportunity like this.” Liara motioned to
a holo display emulating a flat screen TV. “Now am I going to have
to hit a random film or do you want some say in the matter?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked at the
chilled bottle of asari wine and back to Liara and Jack. With a flick
of the wrist and a thought, I popped the cork.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All told, the
selections by Liara seemed comprehensive. Films that have won
multiple awards by various film academies, both the classics and the
undeserved flavors of the week. For every <i>Casablanca</i> or <i>Lord
of the Rings</i> there was a <i>Crash</i> or <i>The Artist</i> to
sift through. A lot of odd foreign films that I had no real
experience with, which honestly I want to chalk up to her not fully
grasping that globalism was something humanity kind of struggled with
until the Prothean discovery on Mars. And an untold amount of movies
that I sincerely never would have guessed were made by human beings,
bolstered on to creative optimism between the discovery of mass
relays and the first contact.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I humored Liara.
A few black and white classics here, some Shakespearean adaptations
there. Even a few movies within my lifetime of the 1990s and 2000s
got a screening. I honestly lost track of time and the wine was a lot
more heady than I had initially anticipated.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then Jack asked the
question that was in the back of my head for the past few hours.
“Where the hell's the crap!?” she slurred.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara blinked
several times. “Excuse me?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Where's the
crap!? The piece of shit movies!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh dear god
you're right!” I exclaimed. “We haven't seen anything really bad.
Just award winners and fancypants artsy stuff.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I-I-I don't
understand.” Liara stuttered. “How can you find any entertainment
in that?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh god you've
never riffed anything in your life??” I declared in shock. “What
have you been doing with your life!?” Liara gave me a sleepy look
of confusion.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My hands moved in a
blur, I hardly even remember what weird depraved conservation site I
even went to uncover this particular artifact. But somehow within
five minutes I had unearthed one of the worst movies Earth has ever
produced.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What is <i>The
Room</i>?” Jack asked. “And why is it labeled as a comedy?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I think I heard
about this. Didn't it get nominated for some of your Academy Awards?”
Liara mumbled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nope!” I barked
out in laughter. “That was a movie about the making of this movie.
The director, producer, writer, and star of the movie was a bizarre
recluse of a guy and the whole production was so batshit insane it
had to be seen to be believed. Also it's only a comedy after the
fact. It's actually trying to be a serious character drama.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Goddess... I
think I'm going to need another drink.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll join you.”
Jack and I replied in unison.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So the impromptu
human media appreciation movie night ended with a screening of <i>The
Room</i>. And it was glorious. Liara kept on asking whether or not
humanity made first contact before the turians or not just on the
shear baffling build, mannerisms and attitude of Tommy Wiseau. Liara
falling into a fit of giggles at the rapidfire flower shop scene. The
baffling surreality of seeing a bunch of adults playing football in
an alleyway while wearing tuxedos. Liara choking on her drink at the
casual mention of breast cancer and her utter confusion at that plot
thread never coming up again. Jack and I losing our minds in laughter
at the terrible attempt to emulate James Dean with the infamous “You
are tearing me apart, Lisa!” line. And of course, the weirdly
perverse glee at seeing Tommy Wiseau awkwardly throw a hissy fit and
then shoot himself... only for supporting characters to wander in and
ask if he's dead while staring at him in a puddle of his own blood
with a bullet hole in his head.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By the time the
credits rolled, Jack had passed out on the couch and Liara and I had
somehow wound up wrapped around each other in a blanket.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You know, Shepard
might get jealous if he sees us like this.” I mumbled, trying to
fight off sleep.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh I don't know
about that.” Liara nuzzled my neck. “Besides, technically didn't
you have a thing for me before Shepard?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Liara, you're
drunk, it wouldn't be right.” I deflected, quietly guiding her
down.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I didn't hear a
no,” she smiled. “ I mean, I must have been in your head one way
or another for you to show up like this.” She then rested her head
in my breasts. I shivered slightly at the sensation.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well... you're
not wrong. In a way I thought it would be simpler.” I mused.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mmmm,” Liara
curled up, looking up in curiosity.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I mean, one
gender, be with whoever you want. A widespread popular religion that
preaches unity and tolerance. The perspective of hundreds of years. I
just thought it'd be simpler.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is it not the
same with humanity? They look no different from each other than asari
do. And don't I hear you repeating Christian beliefs every now and
then?” She mumbled through the fabric of my shirt.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My mind flickered
back to memories of a past life. I shut my eyes in frustration and
shut it out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What you've seen
is humanity at their best. Right now they've stopped fighting...for
the most part. Where I come from the fighting... never seems to
stop. For some reason or another, we tear each other apart for
ridiculous reasons and it... makes me very sad.” I chose my words
carefully. I could feel the fire and anger that I haven't felt since
I first met Jump build up again. I took some deep breaths.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But I guess...the
more things change, the more they stay the same. The whole government
and corporate culture feels like I'm in high school again. But
everyone is a gossipy self-obsessed mean girl.” I chuckled at the
comparison. “And for a race that preaches love and understanding,
there are so many moments where they think way too much about
themselves. Looking down on races for not living as long. I mean...I
actually heard an asari girl said she'd just 'tough it out for a few
decades' when it came to dating a human. Can you imagine?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara slurred
something unintelligble.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But... you know
what? I'm glad I'm here. I mean... despite how messed up everything
has gotten, how much I've dabbled with the status quo, and the whole
'eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow we may die' thing we have right
now. I don't regret a thing.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt Liara snooze
off. I smiled and bundled us a little closer together.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good night,
Liara.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then looked over
to the calendar for the first time in forever. I then turned to Jack.
The serial killer turned teacher for the future. “Happy Valentine's
Day, Jack.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then sleep
finally began to take me. “I'll try to...get you some candy
or...somethin'...”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I woke up,
Earth was swarmed with the Reapers. </div>
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DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-2512727365603448582018-02-14T15:04:00.000-08:002018-02-14T15:10:07.848-08:00Multiverse Desperado A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 24<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 24: The Keys To The Kingdom</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span> </div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You cannot be
serious.” Liara exhaled, loosening her grip on the pistol she had
pressed into my forehead.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, well it's
the truth.” I responded. “Sidebar, can you stop pointing that
thing dead center on my forehead? I think I'm getting a bit
cross-eyed.” I shut my eyes, trying not to think about what I just
said.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her grip tightened.
“How in the world are you able to be so casual about this?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Liara I served
with Commander freaking Shepard. Every other mission he took us on
was suicidal. It might also be the adrenaline talking from us
surviving a yahg. You know, six of one, half dozen of the other.” I
heard her seethe through her teeth. “If it makes you feel any
better once this is over I'm gonna have a spa day and just stay
inside a hotel doing nothing. It won't get rid of all the stress, but
it'll be a start.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She looked like she
was about to yell, but Liara ultimately bit her tongue. After a beat
of silence she gave up holding me at gunpoint and returned to the
Broker's chair, pouring over his files.</div>
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<br />
“Calm down,
doc. At least you can still move.” Jack called in the distance from
a makeshift gurney, waiting for proper medical treatment. Liara
insisted; better safe than sorry.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If it's any
consolation Jack, this is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about
back at Grissom Academy. You know before...all this happened.” I
called back. Then after a beat of self-awareness I got up and closed
the distance.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's what you
wanted to tell me? That you weren't actually an asari but some guy
from the early twenty-first century on some sort of interdimensional
roadtrip? Variza I...is your name even Variza!?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You can keep
calling me that if you like.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'd rather call
you asshole!” Jack screamed, then choked in pain.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You might want to
refrain from yelling, might knock something loose.” I replied
softly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright then
smartass, then how about you answer me some questions if you're
really who you say you are.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, I'm all
ears. Not much we can do until the security outside clocks out of
their shift. Suspicions and all that.” Jack stared daggers at me.
Even with possible spinal damage, she could kill me with her mind. I
slowly sat down next to her, legs crossed, resting my aching right
arm in my lap, the pain now reduced to a dull throbbing.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If, and I'm not
saying it's true, you really came from a world where everything that
ever happened to us was from a bunch of video games, why didn't you
just kill anyone who would be a problem in the future and stop the
Reapers before they became a threat?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack, that is
what I've been doing. What we literally just did was thanks in part
to nondiegetic information.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Smaller words!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Stuff I only know
from sources not available to anyone else in this universe. The plan
was to assassinate Saren years before Shepard would get involved.
Then I was going to make my way towards the leadership of Cerberus
and take them out. Then get the resources needed to uncover the
Prothean artifacts on Ilos and Mars to get a headstart on the
invasion half a decade in advance.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack snorted. “Way
to go little miss high and mighty.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack, I showed up
in this world with a small case of deadly weapons and a crapload of
cash. Assassination was the only avenue I had. I had no political
pull or military allies to call on, so I'd be written off as a
lunatic if I just ran around saying ancient machines were gonna kill
us all. Exactly like what you are doing right now.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She looked away at
that comment. “So why haven't you been able to predict everything
exactly?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Multiverse
theory.” Liara interjected.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I traded looks with
Liara. “I was going to go with the Butterfly Effect but...that's
usually more applicable to time travel.”</div>
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“But it also can
be applied here.” she responded, flipping through the Broker's
files. Her eyes lit up, probably found something important.</div>
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After thinking over
it for a moment, she was right. “Because the games were RPGs, my
experience was one of multiple variations. Shepard is a woman,
Shepard is a complete asshole. You and him are together. Liara and
him are together. Civilizations live and die. Some news reporter on
the Citadel gets punched in the face for asking too many questions.
The list goes on and on.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What the...why
did you bring up relationships so quickly?” She growled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's a... side
mission in the series.” I looked away, embarrassed at how it came
out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well that doesn't
sound creepy at all.” Jack sneered, her sarcasm thick as concrete.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The point is what
I played and what is actually happening right now is so vastly
different because of choices big and small. Because of that I only
have a rough idea as to what is currently going on right now in the
galaxy.” I didn't realize my fists were balled up in rage until the
pain in my arm reached me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I decided to get up
and look outside at the churning storm, choosing my next words
carefully after taking some deep breaths.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I know that the
Collectors are abducting human colonies but I don't know exactly when
and where. I know what they're doing with them and that Shepard's
mission to assault their base through the Omega-4 relay is integral
to stopping them, but finding the right people and tools to make sure
they come back alive is volatile at best. I know that Cerberus will
get it in their heads to try to control and manipulate the Reapers in
a bid for galactic supremacy, but because of what I have done to this
timeline they might as well be unknowns to me. And because of just
how dense and detailed the entire Milky Way is and how those games
took up hundreds of hours of my time and were completed years ago I
cannot actively remember every single detail like Feron or the
Crucible blueprint's locations.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That has been the
definition of my time here. I know exactly what has to happen if we
have any chance of surviving, and I've been struggling like a
drowning man in a flood to get it all together because I'm just some
no one.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Silence followed. It
was only after I felt my protesting voice box form a lump in my
throat did I realize how loudly I had yelled those final words.</div>
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack finally broke
the silence. “This Jump sounds like a real bitch to do all of this
to you.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My hands were
shaking. I punched the display window in response. I'll have time to
break down when I'm dead.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's part of her
game. Like I said, you choose some tools, get some abilities, then
you get ten years.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You seriously
chose to be an asari? Now I know you have to be crazy.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I chose to ignore
her barb. “What did you think was wrong with me? That I had a
terminal disease or something?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well after seeing
that footage of you muttering how many years you had left, yes.”
she chuckled. “I mean all the reckless risks, the suicide missions,
you having like no patience at all.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The fact that I
kept sending out Christmas cards to the Normandy crew with overly
sentimental shmultz like “Hold On Tight To Those You Care About?”
I interrupted.</div>
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“Pffff,” Jack
suppressed a chuckle. “You actually wrote those? I thought it was
one of those generic office things that get sent out for diversity's
sake.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“After all we've
been through...you seriously thought it was just lip service? It was
always Christmas. Not Honor to Kalahira or the turian spirits or the
asari goddess.” I couldn't help but smile. “How thick can you
get?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How much of a
bleeding heart can you be!?” Jack tried to snap back, but her face
was also straining against something. It finally came out as
laughter. And like a dam breaking, I was laughing too.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It was only after
Jack started coughing in pain that I managed to reel myself in.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well...when you
spell it out like that it does make some sense.” She finally
exhaled. “So where did the name come from?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It was a
character I made for a...tabletop RPG. She was an enforcer for Fist
back on the Citadel and suffered from an addiction to red dust. It
was a one-off campaign.” I scratched my neck nervously. “It was
the first name that came to mind.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ha, like Fist
could afford asari muscle.” Jack sneered.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It was a
spitball. Not one of my better creations.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack...she's
telling the truth.” Liara spoke up. Her expression aghast.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A few moments later
a holo display appeared in front of us; Liara was considerate enough
to put one to Jack's level. It was a playlist of vids from the
Broker's private folders. He had his own dedicated obsession file on
me along with copious amounts of wild speculation in text. The first
vid was the shuttle I was on en route to the Citadel four years ago.
One moment, empty cabin; the next I was there with my weapons locker
freaking out over my new asari body. In a separate tab was the ship's
manifest, the name I would eventually give to C-Sec customs appeared
there the instant I arrived.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next vid was
back on Noveria; me with Shepard's crew against Benezia's asari
commandos. Liara saw firsthand what had became of her mother. She
looked like she was about to tear up when she heard my last words to
Benezia was that her daughter loved her very much before pulling the
trigger.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There were a few
brief clips of my sessions with Sha'ira and Dr. Dren, but there was
no audio. Thank goodness for the consult's sensory pods. But my body
language and actions spoke greater volumes about the stress I was
under than any throwaway conversation. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The vid after that
was Morinth's attempt on my life, I got some judgmental looks from
Liara and Jack when it came to how it started, and how I managed to
break hold of her mental domination. It also gave me a moment to
appreciate the wonders a military regiment and good diet leads to
great muscle definition. I don't exactly like looking in the mirror
but I did appreciate how my figure now resembles more of an Olympic
strongwoman or a marathon runner now.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then there was the
footage of my rant with Jump. Just like before, she didn't show up in
the video, but there was a secondary feed showing the hallway
outside: the door to my room. In comes Garrus on camera two, through
the door, in comes Garrus on camera one. He talks me down, doesn't
see Jump on the bed, leaves camera one then two. Then the Warehouse
key going into the door. The door opening to a column of light; door
on camera two stays closed. And silhouetted in the light was...Jump?
There for a few brief seconds then gone. Liara looked like she saw a
ghost.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The last shown was
some very brief footage from Donavan Hock's estate. Lot of mingling,
talking, my interaction with Hock and Harper. No footage of the
bathrooms, thank god, followed by the vault breach. Chaos in the
party room, Variza in a dress. Flashbang goes off, vision clears,
Variza in power armor.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The multiple text
files didn't come anywhere close to the truth. Everything from
experimental teleportation technology using the same quantum
entanglement principles as QEC communication to portable mass relay
technology was speculated when it came to my arrival and how my
Warehouse worked. All were written off as impossible or
technologically unfeasible. A side effect was a lot of highly
classified projects from every single Council race was unearthed and
poured over extensively by the Broker's networks. Anything and
everything related to transportation and weapons development was
bugged.</div>
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“Goddess... you
really aren't from this world.” Liara breathed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah. Looks like
the secret is out...” My eyes lingered on the R&D in the
Broker's obsession file. “in more ways than one.” My heart began
pounding with excitement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza, what are
you doing?” Liara demanded as I moved next to her chair and got a
better look at the projects. Seeing what principles they acted upon,
how resource intensive they were.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And how they could
help my guys at my own personal R&D wing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Liara, I have a
proposition for you.” I said, grinning ear to ear. “You have
plenty of experience as an information broker?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not as much as I
like but yes.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And while it's
not as reliable as it was before, I do remember a few key things that
would be integral to our survival and to Shepard's future missions.
Project names, persons of interest, et cetera.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Are you proposing
that-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yep. The Shadow
Broker is dead.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Long live the
Shadow Broker.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why, that would
mean we would be working together constantly. On this station.
Forwarding information to Shepard and the Alliance,”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He uses his
Spectre status to cut through the bureaucracy,”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“and we get a hold
of it so we can use it.” Liara beamed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This could be
just what we need to put an end to the Collectors and keep Cerberus
in check” I let out a cheer, a triumphant “finally!” bellowing
out of my gut. “After four long years in this galaxy I can really
start derailing some shit!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“By the Goddess,
we could even use these resources to further construction of the
Crucible and lend resources to your company's R&D to help the war
effort. What is the earth saying? We've hit the jackpot?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That got a wide
toothy smile from her. By asari standards she might as well have
jumped up on the console and started singing a soulful rendition of
Queen's <i>We Are The Champions</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
I'll take it as a win.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh yeah that's
great, call me when the sleepovers start, but what about me and my
back!?” Jack yelled!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The sealed doors
then blew off their hinges and a group of armed soldiers barged in.
On reflex, Liara and I drew our pistols. Oh yeah, outnumbered and
outgunned and the two of us are still wearing helmetless borrowed
armor that's barely being held together. Two pistols was gonna stop
them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Two hostiles
detected! Awaiting orders.” A male voice rang out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Stand down,
Thane, they're friendlies.” A familiar voice called out through the
ruckus. And out walked Commander Shepard, motioning for the rest of
his team to stand down, his black and red-accented N7 armor marking
him center stage.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwAO8tgVQEzPaj5ck_eQ-MT2PzPQ3jzrM8SiSlG8snxE1KfLyi51n5UIiwdqjtftRzpMvaZnmnQME666_4ysf_G-3lFl_DwvYgkcYi96U6H-zbXk4Nih3xSmTTVFKHboUACxy44QjDlk/s1600/Mass+Effect+John+Shepard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwAO8tgVQEzPaj5ck_eQ-MT2PzPQ3jzrM8SiSlG8snxE1KfLyi51n5UIiwdqjtftRzpMvaZnmnQME666_4ysf_G-3lFl_DwvYgkcYi96U6H-zbXk4Nih3xSmTTVFKHboUACxy44QjDlk/s320/Mass+Effect+John+Shepard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh right. The SOS
signal in case things went wrong. I may have forgotten to turn that
off. Drat.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I recognize this
one. We have met before.” A female voice piped up.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Take your buckets
off people, we're among friends.” Shepard declared. Everyone
holstered their weapons. We did the same.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The woman pulled off
her helmet, revealing Justicar Samara. Her suit noticeably more
armored and pulsing with power. Probably some biotic mods built in.
The second to remove their helmet was the named Thane Krios, his
black eyes focusing on me in curiosity. He was arguably the best
suited warrior for the Omega-4 Relay mission. As a drell he had
absolute perfect memory, down to details, emotions and sensations,
which translated to him being deadly with all forms of weaponry and
martial arts. Though it did come at the temptation to “lose”
oneself in old memories forever, just letting them play on repeat in
your head and remember the good times all the way to the grave. Also,
he had an incurable terminal illness native to his people, Kepral's
Syndrome, and only one next of kin, his son Kolyat. If you're going
to die, best to do it while trying to preserve life. I find it
ironically quite honorable a stance for a hired killer.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioj12cx-dhWv3ZMcHZ524BWs9T8EF4r-TeUWEZge_Vqw9nAJ0GWmsCvqtu7_MKtxUoMmxvMa9GMub1WXU59PnehwfUicKKl_VhJRHXMqu3nXoJu8ZRsBAIjZO-NY_G9VnCeYum0em45BE/s1600/Thane+Krios+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioj12cx-dhWv3ZMcHZ524BWs9T8EF4r-TeUWEZge_Vqw9nAJ0GWmsCvqtu7_MKtxUoMmxvMa9GMub1WXU59PnehwfUicKKl_VhJRHXMqu3nXoJu8ZRsBAIjZO-NY_G9VnCeYum0em45BE/s320/Thane+Krios+Image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza T'Som. You
have twenty-seven bounties on you last I checked. Most from business
rivals. It is unlikely to find you here in the Shadow Broker's lair.”
Thane responded.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Finally saying
what we're all thinking, Thane,” a psuedo-Polish accented voice
spoke as another one stepped forward. She didn't take off her helmet
so much as remove a shell of sorts from her hermetically sealed
helmeted head. The quarian Tali Zorah had revealed herself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Glad to see the
Normandy still has the best damn engineer in the galaxy.” I declare
to Tali. She turned her head in modesty.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tali Zorah has
been instrumental to our overall performance.” A mechanical tone
droned from the final soldier. Like Tali, it removed a mechanical
shell, but the result was much more dramatic. Instead of a humanoid
face, it was the all too-familiar singular bright eye of a geth. “Her
title, however, can be contested within five percent margin of
error.” Tali's posture stiffened, I even saw her stop going to her
Omni-Tool to unleash some technical wizardry. Old habits die hard I
suppose.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dMIGHnqStlHOnCd_VWuUytZoEnakmpLeRzAX5MrimmC4ZMPidTOWuGdoI2gS4lAoe-PRXAO_nEz22RBkpPgYuxUl2J6Hf6HpIA88SMqKx4mDs0lWTIqXl9s4TVXSndoILiCGzTPjZc0/s1600/Mass+Effect+Legion+Profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dMIGHnqStlHOnCd_VWuUytZoEnakmpLeRzAX5MrimmC4ZMPidTOWuGdoI2gS4lAoe-PRXAO_nEz22RBkpPgYuxUl2J6Hf6HpIA88SMqKx4mDs0lWTIqXl9s4TVXSndoILiCGzTPjZc0/s320/Mass+Effect+Legion+Profile.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll...just take
the compliment if you don't mind, Legion.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Acknowledged.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh you've gotta
be kidding me? You're working with geth now?” Jack protested.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's a long
story. I'll fill you in while we get you to med bay.” Shepard spoke
up, motioning Thane and Samara to carry Jack.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then there was a
moment where Shepard had a hand to his ear.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“De-activate the
bombs, Garrus. The situation has been handled. Yes, Joker wind down
the assault cannons as well.” He removed his hand and looked
somewhere behind me. “Kasumi, stop fooling around and get back to
the ship.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I heard a cloaking
device power down behind me. Then felt a hand squeeze my shoulder as
Kasumi Goto strolled by.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nice seeing you
again, Variza.” She said in a sing-song way while returning to her
group.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My god, Shepard's
crew is terrifying.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
An hour later it was
just me, Liara and Shepard in the Shadow Broker's base.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So where's the
Broker now?” He asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pointed to the
pile of ash. “Physically there. Metaphorically speaking, you're
talking to them.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But Variza,
you're just the head of a weapons company.” Shepard gave me some
leading looks. “You wouldn't really have a place in such a
demanding field as-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shepard, I know
the truth.” Liara replied as deadpan as possible.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh.” he rubbed
the back of his shaved head nervously.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Anything you'd
want to bring up before we leave? Mordin is almost done modifying a
Reaper IFF signal so we can make our way through the relay so we're
making sure everything is perfect.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Based on the
scans we got from the Normandy...a few things.” I said with a
smile.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-22530631275717021992018-02-07T15:10:00.000-08:002018-02-07T15:10:27.750-08:00My Thoughts On...A Bunch of Netflix Stuff
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheC_acVXx2E9_Quh3yuuK38Xdp9m1l9i8eKi3WanluhbT59sL_gMxqUGiuk-b2hQG7Ihf4THn6AQfQuVqCr1o_UJEiBasiChyphenhyphenCvo__5we_gO6BoC7u_57j24TAjVOz0ghTyaXALvPW2b8/s1600/It+Came+From+Netflix+Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheC_acVXx2E9_Quh3yuuK38Xdp9m1l9i8eKi3WanluhbT59sL_gMxqUGiuk-b2hQG7Ihf4THn6AQfQuVqCr1o_UJEiBasiChyphenhyphenCvo__5we_gO6BoC7u_57j24TAjVOz0ghTyaXALvPW2b8/s320/It+Came+From+Netflix+Logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So...Netflix had a
bunch of interesting stuff released recently. Honestly I don't get as
much time to binge streaming services as I like, but when I do I try
to be particular about it. If I'm not trying to make a dent in my
anime backlog with Crunchyroll, I do occasionally see what's on
Netflix, if only to see what exactly is getting mainstream viewers
excited or pissy. The Netflix Marvel shows, 13 Reasons Why, Orange is
the New Black, whenever shows like these become water cooler
discussion in this day and age, it's always prudent to keep your hand
on the service's pulse.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But since my prose
is far too long-winded for its own good, I decided to make My
Thoughts this time around be more rapidfire. Just quick thoughts and
observations I have developed catching my share of the streaming
service-viewing public.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
First some very
quick rapidfire thoughts on stuff I may have mentioned once upon a
time.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtGt5kjnTWUFEAS6vIE34D_aIQxp0pknxjBAxwSCv8gbqM3Vc5YIXmvczgO6pp9KnLxvyqSOHeWGeuLXDOV1e3qgoPXGGxSGD7EFFP6mO4wwV0ouzzxLdAfNozwAuEQgwg6Cz9lgUEk4/s1600/The+Defenders+Netflix+Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1166" data-original-width="1499" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtGt5kjnTWUFEAS6vIE34D_aIQxp0pknxjBAxwSCv8gbqM3Vc5YIXmvczgO6pp9KnLxvyqSOHeWGeuLXDOV1e3qgoPXGGxSGD7EFFP6mO4wwV0ouzzxLdAfNozwAuEQgwg6Cz9lgUEk4/s320/The+Defenders+Netflix+Poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Marvel
Netflix Shows</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I actually started reading comics I enjoyed my share of the
brighter and more entertaining stuff. For example Dan Slott's run on
Amazing Spider-Man post- One More Day was my reintroduction to the
character and reminded me of why I loved the webhead; even while I am
in agreement with everyone that One More Day is one of the worst things
to ever happen to the character since The Clone Saga.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I was also young and a had a dark streak as well. Reading stuff
like the mid-2000s run of Moon Knight up until the aftermath of the
Civil War story, the gothic supernatural action of Ghost Rider, and a
LOT of graphic novel trades of Batman including The Dark Knight
Returns, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, and his
final epic case before his death in Final Crisis, Batman R.I.P.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm a bit older now and can appreciate the camp, but I've always had
a soft spot for the more hardboiled and gritty heroes. The ones that
see a truly depressing and overwhelming world around them and declare
that it stops now, through bloody knuckles and broken teeth if
necessary.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So let's get to my thoughts on the shows with that in mind.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Daredevil</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Probably my favorite of the Netflix Marvel shows by default. Great
action with stamina playing a factor. Love the supporting cast. Even
enjoy how the show goes from gritty gangland crime drama to hokey
comic book silliness when the ninja organization The Hand shows up.
Also Jon Bernthal is fantastic as the Punisher, but it's a
performance so intense and offputting with how realistically
portrayed it is, recontextualizing the character as an army veteran
dealing with depression and light PTSD as well as the loss of his
family, that it actually made it almost impossible to watch The
Punisher spin-off show. Maybe I'll get to it later.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What I don't like? Charlie Cox is a bit one note as the lead. The
re-imagined Elektra is a bit of a boring non-entity and is just there
to set up the Avengers-style crossover series, The Defenders. And the
usual Netflix production issues of flabby middle episodes just there
to stretch the run time.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Jessica Jones</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Best show of the bunch. Kristen Ritter is phenomenal as the lead.
David Tennant is terrifying as Zedediah Kilgrave. Having the entire
season be about stopping a low end supervillain by way of noir
detective thriller scratches all of my itches. Not to mention Jones'
history with Kilgrave as a very blunt allegory for Rape/Abuse
Survival is potent as hell. What I didn't like was the subplot
involving shady pharmaceuticals basically goes nowhere.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Luke Cage</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A classic example of a show I can appreciate is great, but that I
have to confess is not for me. The cast is great, the acting is
great, the production design is solid, the source material is paid
proper respect. But I never finished the season. Due to one reason or
another, the racial tension atmosphere baked into the production, the
hip-hop meets early 70s blaxploitation film vibe, or even just a case
of Marvel burn out, I quietly bowed out of this show. Not because
it's awful, far from it, but because it was preaching to a different
choir. Say what you will about me, I will not be surprised if you
love this show.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Iron Fist</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I saw several clips of this show and wanted to punch it in the face.
I love kung-fu movies. I love kung fu characters. I even love Iron
Fist in concept. He's a guy that learned martial arts and because he
was so awesome he got superpowers from the spirit of a dragon. But
the show took the most fantastic character in the entire Netflix
series line-up and made him an annoying entitled little shit. Bad
fight choreography, terrible casting, reduction happened in the worst
possible areas and it is just....ugh.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Defenders</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Never started the show. Blame Iron Fist.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Moving on!</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Bright</b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The minute I found out David Ayer was directing and the production
didn't even have a proper screenwriter, I had a bad feeling about the
movie the minute it went live.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I was right. An urban fantasy cop drama that wants to be LA
Confidential or Training Day with elves and
magic but winds up playing like the movie Crash with DnD stuff
awkwardly bolted on. And less subtle....somehow.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRLTdSx0fgIcmp5C3PJTTSNO06XYa3SnTmA4H35VRSiiy0Y32cdgkiw8Mtx3vfA6Tm61AxD7nK9uELaAJ1aBLX1zwZV8DKkCL99lBhiI1_d7kV9ZFiEsF1cViQsOFow9FdphlUDJU9Dw/s1600/Devilman+Crybaby+Hero+Reveal+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="295" data-original-width="525" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrRLTdSx0fgIcmp5C3PJTTSNO06XYa3SnTmA4H35VRSiiy0Y32cdgkiw8Mtx3vfA6Tm61AxD7nK9uELaAJ1aBLX1zwZV8DKkCL99lBhiI1_d7kV9ZFiEsF1cViQsOFow9FdphlUDJU9Dw/s320/Devilman+Crybaby+Hero+Reveal+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Devilman Crybaby</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Holy shit.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Seriously that's all I got. An ultraviolent, hypersexualized radical
re-imagining of a beloved fifty-year old Japanese manga hero animated
by one of the most underrated directors in the industry. Half of the
stuff that happens in this show was stuff I thought couldn't happen
with Netflix's standards and practices, and yet they did. Over. And
over. And over again.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It isn't just cheap shock either. This show tells a taut, if
extremely dark and violent, story of human nature and the literal and
metaphysical end of the world. It's also a limited ten episode season
so things actually have solid pacing to them.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you enjoy anime, watch this now.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And now for the core reason why I wanted to bring up my thoughts on
Netflix stuff.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I want to discuss....</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFm-7eIlXa_fyVEUN9xxjLQmtu2AW1F-ifcT_wtULVtc9ZyyVghjuQvnj-VjP5nnXk5nS85f1LBqzDhw2fNnOl1UyO6-Xlm5pjHVpizWSt3ZHeywd95lqH7pGu2zEa_QFboIHf8yl2lw/s1600/Cloverfield+Paradox+Screaming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="1000" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFm-7eIlXa_fyVEUN9xxjLQmtu2AW1F-ifcT_wtULVtc9ZyyVghjuQvnj-VjP5nnXk5nS85f1LBqzDhw2fNnOl1UyO6-Xlm5pjHVpizWSt3ZHeywd95lqH7pGu2zEa_QFboIHf8yl2lw/s320/Cloverfield+Paradox+Screaming.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Cloverfield
Paradox</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh dear god I am getting so sick and tired of J.J. Abrams' marketing
schtick!</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I brought this up before in my thoughts on Star Wars: The Last Jedi
but I have a bit of an axe to grind with this particular film
director and creative producer. In terms of actual filmmaking, Abrams
is a solid talent. The original Cloverfield was an enjoyable found
footage monster movie. Super 8 was a fun Spielberg pastiche in the
vein of ET, The Force Awakens was a welcome return to the Star Wars
universe, and despite how disastrous the ending, the first few
seasons of Lost were full of highly entertaining character drama.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But it's how Abrams markets and presents his projects that always
annoy me: the Mystery Box angle. When Cloverfield hit theaters, many
people were greatly disappointed despite the actual film's quality.
Why? Because the marketing for the film up to that point was full of
misdirection and online viral campaigns. At one point people thought
the movie was actually an American proper remake of Godzilla or a
Voltron movie. Yes really. Abrams said nothing and let the
speculation run wild. Yes, this lead to a pretty excellent box office
for the movie, but there was notable backlash.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And this pattern keeps repeating itself with JJ Abrams' filmography.
Lost had three good seasons, but the intrigue was so built up, the
show became a ratings smash...and the writers clearly had no plans to
actually answer the mysteries they had set up. The Force Awakens was
pumped full of empty spaces of potential, practically begging for the
audience to fill in the blanks themselves. Then The Last Jedi hit and
answered every lingering question with anticlimactic answers. It's
the perfect storm of utilizing the social media rumor mill and the
overwhelming trend of modern blockbuster filmmaking to “logic”
everything together; to make every little detail be connected as part
of some elaborate tapestry instead of just letting things settle on
their own. But the answers and the reveals are always disappointing for how much effort goes into them that it can actually do damage.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In fact, I thought Abrams' production was actually going to go in the
exact opposite direction of this approach when it came to the second
film to hold the Cloverfield name: 10 Cloverfield Lane. A pretty
solid paranoia thriller with Mary-Elizabeth Winstead and John Goodman. But the thing is
the movie was originally called The Cellar and was directed by Dan
Trachtenberg, until it was revamped by JJ Abrams' production company,
Bad Robot. But there was no hard connections between the film's conflict of people trapped in a doomsday bunker wondering if the world came to an end and the giant monster rampaging through New York in the original Cloverfield.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In other words, it looked like Abrams was trying to take the idea of
Cloverfield as a brand and turn it into a big budget sci-fi anthology
film series like The Twilight Zone or Tales from the Crypt. Genre
films with a focus on character and drama all connected by a title.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But what everybody else was expecting was hard evidence and Marvel
Cinematic Universe-style connections to the original film, no matter
how badly those connections would ultimately dilute and trivialize
the central conflict of 10 Cloverfield Lane.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB_4HjiEh3UZXrR_haWGu_S5xC67I_VlxgdHkUUSljvg5XcAo7AJpv8Y5OYuAnSslT2z7OrTo70jmDFge2RyetnsKyKBMAv7LsM032GffWZYEAkcPtMwP0V7uStZcKvmKkBM6dmpqOn8/s1600/Always+Sunny+Conspiracy+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="648" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB_4HjiEh3UZXrR_haWGu_S5xC67I_VlxgdHkUUSljvg5XcAo7AJpv8Y5OYuAnSslT2z7OrTo70jmDFge2RyetnsKyKBMAv7LsM032GffWZYEAkcPtMwP0V7uStZcKvmKkBM6dmpqOn8/s320/Always+Sunny+Conspiracy+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, we have The Cloverfield Paradox, the third film in this series
that was shadowdropped onto Netflix after Super Bowl LII, and has
been marketed heavily as a prequel to the original movie and holding
the secrets to the “Cloververse.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is the greatest thing crippling this movie: the weight of this
branding. Whenever it isn't dedicating its run time to laboriously
explain and answer questions that nobody really asked, the movie
itself is quite entertaining.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The set-up is that it is some time in the not too distant future and
Earth is going through an energy crisis. So the world puts together
what money and resources they have for a huge space station in orbit
around the planet and a top of the line particle accelerator. The
mission by the crew is to...basically throw science at the wall and
see if they can find a source of unlimited energy by locating a
Macguffin particle.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, the science is so soft it barely makes sense in comic books.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the space station are a freaking Beneton ad of diversity including
Zhang Ziyi playing a Chinese physicist, Daniel Bruhl as a German
scientist, and our British female lead played by Gugu Mbatha-Raw. Say
her name a few times out loud, it's fun.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Things take a weird turn when the team seemingly discovers an energy
source after firing their accelerator again, but it turns out
something went horribly wrong. The whole station blacks out, Earth is
nowhere to be seen, and unexplained stuff starts happening on the
ship. With everything out of whack, the crew has to figure out what
just happened and how to return to Earth.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That is basically the rest of the movie: a riff on Event Horizon but
with parallel universes. Characters phase in and out of existence,
personal histories mix and clash, and freaky things keep happening
with gravity, physics, and magnets.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And as a low-rent schlocky sci-fi thriller, it's not half bad.
There's a lot of stuff that only seems to be in the movie for novelty
more than function, but there are some genuinely beautiful character
moments. Acting MVP has to go to Gugu. She has a tragic backstory
involving her family and husband, and when it comes to getting a
glimpse of what might have been she doesn't miss a beat. It's a hell
of a performance.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But once again, the jumbo-sized elephant in the room that is in the
very title has to be addressed. Right before the scientists fire
their particle accelerator, there is a broadcast shown by a crazy
scientist on Earth who keeps begging the scientists to take caution.
Claiming that by punching holes in reality looking for this MacGuffin
particle, it could bring untold horrors into our world. Not just
through space but time itself. He even flat out says these could
include aliens, monsters, and demons. He even calls it The Cloverfield Paradox.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yep, that's the big explanation for all the weird sci-fi stuff that
happens and will happen in the Cloververse going forward. A particle
accelerator borked with space-time looking for infinite energy and
messed everything up. Meaning regardless of
time period or location, you can blame the scientists on the
Cloverfield Space Station for forgetting to carry the one. Aren't you
glad you know now?</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis2gSYh9nk0BnoNCJCJMH1mNiWYc2XLJUV8nsbePor_nPz1uc9l7O9V0AvKGy9BSPVpJRW81m1wR2C4SxXbP0JjA9vsIDhIhbXVKtphFaA1H4Uo-PallNtFiV_xwXFhSYe3Fbc6TUZ6w0/s1600/multifacepalm+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="350" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis2gSYh9nk0BnoNCJCJMH1mNiWYc2XLJUV8nsbePor_nPz1uc9l7O9V0AvKGy9BSPVpJRW81m1wR2C4SxXbP0JjA9vsIDhIhbXVKtphFaA1H4Uo-PallNtFiV_xwXFhSYe3Fbc6TUZ6w0/s320/multifacepalm+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well I'm not. The grand appeal of doing anthology-style genre
filmmaking is there is a continued suspension of disbelief when it
comes to big ideas. Did we need overly complicated mythology or
interwoven narrative threads as to why Earth is suddenly occupied by
pigpeople at the end of an episode of The Twilight Zone? Of course
not, that would be silly. Small cameos and tenuous connections like
recurring characters, think Dr. Vink from Are You Afraid of the
Dark?, are acceptable but that's more the exception than the rule.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also, the justification is so broad and boring it is effectively
meaningless. It's an overcomplicated and pretentious way to say,
“it's science magic, I ain't gotta explain shit.”</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Much like 10 Cloverfield Lane, this movie was originally under a
different title and director. It was directed by Julius Onah, a
pretty underground talent in terms of mainstream film, and the
original film title was God Particle. But while 10 Cloverfield Lane only shared a name with prior movies, you
can actually feel how artificial and forced the Cloverfield
connections are in this film. There's even a painful final shot that made me want
to chuck my TV out the window. </div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But now it's gonna be picked clean by obsessive Cloververse fans
trying to figure out how incidental dialogue or events will somehow
tie things to the fourth film, which apparently is gonna be an
alternate history narrative set in World War II. Connections that are basically impossible since this movie basically wrote itself a blank check.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the one hand, I never would have checked out this movie if it
weren't for the Cloverfield branding, and in a way I do appreciate
what Abrams' people at Bad Robot are trying to do by marketing these
kinds of movies. But the way they went about doing it feels both
insufferable and unnecessary.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still at least it they put it on Netflix instead of charging a movie
ticket this time. There may have been panic in the streets!</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-62943166297987208502018-01-22T15:00:00.000-08:002018-01-22T23:01:44.446-08:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 23<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 23: End
of the Shadow Broker</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The shuttle swerved,
ducked and weaved through the arcology towers of Thessia before
taking a plunge into the hostile heat below, environmental shields
kicking on to prevent us from being boiled alive. Liara and I were
all but taped to the interior by crash webbing, both of us bracing
for Jack's evasive piloting while recovering from the initial
shellshock.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You're trying to
tell me you let your company get bought up by the Broker just to get
to him!?” Liara yelled over the muffled explosions and gunfire.
“What exactly were you going to do then!? Were you going to storm
the fortress and kill him yourself!?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No!” I replied
defensively. I couldn't exactly meet her gaze with the follow-up
though. “The plan was to have <i>us </i><span style="font-style: normal;">storm
the fortress and kill him </span><i>ourselves.”</i></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's
much better!?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Between
the geth, the Thorian, Saren and the multiple mercenaries we've taken care
of I'd think we have it under control!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
shuttle shook and rattled as the door opposite us quickly dented in.
Jack's swearing could be heard from the cockpit.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Variza,
you're a century older than me and you're acting like some hotheaded
infant barely in their forties!”</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another
loud bang rang out and the entire shuttle rattled violently, causing
us to jerk forward sharply. I swear with a little more pressure my
eyes would have popped out.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Dammit
Variza! Does this ship have any weapons at all!?” Jack demanded!</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's
a Kodiak shuttle, Jack! It's basically a metal box with engines!” I
shouted back.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack
screamed incoherently in response. A beat later she spoke up. “I
think I can lose them! Hang
on!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
shuttle kicked into a new gear and shot forward, practically pinning
Liara and me to our seats. I twitched in pain from the warped parts
of my blasted armor needling parts of me. It was designed to be
highly resistant against bullets and small arms, not artillery. If it
wasn't for the fact that the targets of those rockets were three
skilled biotic users, we'd be paste right now. It was a small
consolation.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still
I really need to settle on names for these prototypes.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unfortunately,
any attempts to start workshopping were cut off by the ship sharply
going ninety degrees up. Blood rushed and my insides were getting
ready to come up in protest.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“By
the Goddess, what exactly are you doing up there?” Liara projected
over the high-pitched screech of the engines.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Lost
them in foliage! Gonna try to breach the atmosphere!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A
mad dash for a Mass Relay? Do you have any idea how reckless that
is?” Liara continued. “It would be more prudent if we used the
foliage as cover, cut our engines then waited them out.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Too
late. We're already doing it!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Several
large bangs shook the back of the ship. We were then hit with at
least several different flavors of aileron rolls, jukes, and dives as
Jack tried to outpace the gunfire aimed at our precious engines. Note to self, buying a shuttle from Omega means they cut corners when it comes to overall safety regulations like personal gravity emitters.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Am
I the only one on this ship who thinks more than ten seconds ahead!?”
Liara finally screamed in pure exasperation.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm
almost to the exosphere!” Jack yelled back. “If we turn back now
we're sitting ducks!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Go
for it Jack!” I yelled back. “Now or nev-<i>reeecchh</i>!!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ralph
called. He had a lot to say. Then the ship turned and tilted. Ralph
had something to say to Liara too. She didn't like it.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mass
Relay in sight. Looks like they broke off! Probably to get aid from a
larger class cruiser. Not gonna chance it though. Making the jump now
to the Sowlio system!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb6vzM1VSyVPoHqdu0vLiM7s7gnD3GaVocKBV-7ikLT_ib7LrNU8oqZjCenngJISoHffmBi7YN06cG6ShW_RHHJwgcKnT_n98muFE9FEO0th4LNbl-yos17NXMAT_Ew0m5ECv8WerKPQ/s1600/Mass+Effect+Mass+Relay+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="400" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb6vzM1VSyVPoHqdu0vLiM7s7gnD3GaVocKBV-7ikLT_ib7LrNU8oqZjCenngJISoHffmBi7YN06cG6ShW_RHHJwgcKnT_n98muFE9FEO0th4LNbl-yos17NXMAT_Ew0m5ECv8WerKPQ/s320/Mass+Effect+Mass+Relay+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After
twenty seconds of blood-chilling silence, we all heard the low <i>whoosh</i> of a mass relay launching our ship beyond light speed
through the cosmos. I let out a sigh of relief, then turned to a
vomit-covered Liara and offered a pensive apology. She looked like a
single mother that got handed the short end of the straw with two
newborns, begging for an excuse to go on a rampage.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
decided to undo my crash webbing and search the footlocker for
something to clean up the mess. The closest thing I could find were
some blankets for long distance trips and a small bottle of mouthwash
for hygiene. I used it to cover up the smell and clean up the sick as
best as I could, though I let Liara handle personal clean-up herself.
I had to let her have some dignity, otherwise she'd probably try to
strangle me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After
about five minutes of clean-up, Jack joined us, the room now smelling
less like vomit and more like mouthwash and vomit. “Alright, so now
what are we gonna do?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Head
to Hagalaz, storm the Shadow Broker's fortress, put a bullet in his
head.” I replied while gingerly removing my armor, the broken
shreds of it finally proving too much to tolerate.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright
I'm putting an absolute hold on anything Variza proposes as a plan
because that is not a plan, those are goals.” Liara snarled through
gritted teeth. “You have a ship that is barely being held together
by utterly reckless piloting-”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey!
We're alive aren't we!?” Jack interjected.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“-
along with untold damage to the hull and engines,” Liara continued
undaunted, “ Damaged bordering on useless armor, and there is the
fact that we would undoubtedly be outgunned and outnumbered the
minute we land and the ship ID doesn't match Tela
Vasir's.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“...
plus there's a chance that when Tela's dead trigger went off it sent
a signal back to the Broker, letting him know that something was up.”
I added.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara
nodded in agreement. “One way or another, he's expecting us.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
let out a sigh. I can't let the Broker squander away all the weaponry
at T'Som Manufacturing. And if he wasn't waiting at his base with an
entire army ready, chances are he's getting ready to move shop to
another secret facility in the galaxy where I wouldn't be able to
find him.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara
was right, I needed help. And I needed a plan.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So
I pulled up my Omni-Tool and contacted Admiral Hackett, stepping away
from Liara and Jack as the two of them started arguing over our
predicament. Practically speaking I couldn't get a full dialogue with
the guy, that would require a dedicated computer terminal with
Extranet access, and that kind of stuff is usually only found on
larger more advanced spaceships. But a quick message with a small
priority tagline should be enough for him to forward an SOS to
Shepard along with where we'd be after finishing our relay jump. It was a decent back-up to have in a worst case scenario.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After
sending the message off I sat back in a seat and started rubbing my
temples, Liara and Jack's dialogue a mere dull roar a mile away. I
was honestly starting to think about what I could do if the worst
case scenario happened. The absolute worst case scenario when the life-exterminating machines arrived. The quickest most efficient plan was start pulling as much funds as possible,
set up a bunker on some remote world in the Terminus Systems and wait
out the Reaper extermination, pray that my decade is up before they
find me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
I knew that was impossible. Their widespread ultrasonic
Indoctrination would slowly break away at my sanity, make me slowly
believe dying by them is the right thing to do; a big blue lamb to the cosmic slaughter. It's also very clear
that whatever the heck happened due to me popping up in this
universe, they've become a lot more aggressive and devious with
forceful cybernetic enthrallment.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Better
to die fighting than hiding I suppose. </div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46RoAebq_DS1GkYeOKdBBCOdytC0OmkZWfdCTQlHcn_X_cbqF5xteaC-aV-nhC6kbMqPQ3W1HNVkDGvKYX-vEVNt-eDZkCQ9SWchSqmUH4Gfhe_munp9gPUQIQtwg5wMJtVLDEKlg8ks/s1600/Zelda+Guess+I%2527ll+Die+Image.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="784" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46RoAebq_DS1GkYeOKdBBCOdytC0OmkZWfdCTQlHcn_X_cbqF5xteaC-aV-nhC6kbMqPQ3W1HNVkDGvKYX-vEVNt-eDZkCQ9SWchSqmUH4Gfhe_munp9gPUQIQtwg5wMJtVLDEKlg8ks/s320/Zelda+Guess+I%2527ll+Die+Image.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I got up and joined Jack and
Liara. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, the impending mecha-cthulhus throwing me back into overdrive.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I
sent out a message to Shepard. If he's nearby I'm going to see if I
can get his help, take full advantage of the Normandy's stealth
system.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You
do realize that's a complete shot in the dark, blue?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah,
I do.” I exhaled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What
about that video chit from Feron's place?” Liara spoke up.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do
you still have Tela's Omni-Tool?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara
held up the apparatus.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
flat out cheered, pumping my fist, “Jackpot!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Excuse
me?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hand
me the chit and her Tool. If I pull this off I might be able to give
us a shot at the Broker's base, just the three of us.” I replied.
Jack flashed me a sinister smile, Liara stared at me like I started
speaking Latin backwards.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
slipped Tela's Tool on and slipped Feron's video chit inside. I then
made my first risk by linking my biometric data to the Tool to
de-activate Tela's dead switch. The red beeping light on it shut off.
Thank god DNA ID is weirdly uncommon in this galaxy. I then let the
video play. A holo display popped up, revealing a shakey first-person
view of some green scaled humanoid hands fiddling around before
settling into the image of a drell. Black, featureless eyes scanned
over the camera, his expression turning resolute once it was clear
the device was recording. He began to speak....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7vqk85SqfitYVUV-AhykhlVPesi5L863-NI-2M5POrCO7HheR5gAg3ZTkhPDHsN9KHL4shyphenhyphenUTASJjIoxvGjBbpcibdTQ_IdQ7DLQvoV-W-Vm10FAvqsdJDHNGNbG04t6UPwnFxvTMzM/s1600/Mass+Effect+Drell.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="512" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7vqk85SqfitYVUV-AhykhlVPesi5L863-NI-2M5POrCO7HheR5gAg3ZTkhPDHsN9KHL4shyphenhyphenUTASJjIoxvGjBbpcibdTQ_IdQ7DLQvoV-W-Vm10FAvqsdJDHNGNbG04t6UPwnFxvTMzM/s320/Mass+Effect+Drell.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
then I shut the clip off.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What
are you doing?” Liara interjected.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Had
to be sure it was genuine, but had to ensure nobody else knows the
vid's secrets yet.” I smiled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara's
eyes widened in realization. “You're actually going to masquerade
as Tela and get us into the base that way?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Delivering
Feron's crucial information to the Broker while also declaring the
death of Variza T'Som, but only after performing a fake-out death to
throw off her bruiser biotic partner.” I gestured to Jack at the
last comment.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You
do realize that will fall apart the minute Illium's authorities find
her body right? And that Illium is basically covered in cameras all
the time?” Liara questioned.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sweetheart,
when it comes to lies, context is everything.” I started opening
the Tool's communication and re-opened the text conversation with the
Shadow Broker and started typing. "Tela may have been a Spectre, but she was no stranger to corruption or going dark when need be. It wouldn't be completely unheard of to switch out some bodies at the morgue and stage an entire thrilling escape to slander my name post mortem. Just have to make sure the lie is just big enough for the big guy to fill in the blanks himself."</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Liara actually smiled in respect to my proposal. "Behavioral psychology. I'm impressed."</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sweetheart?
What you some cowboy now?” Jack quipped.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“J-J-Just
get ready to land once we drop out of FTL!”My face flashed purple
in embarrassment. I turned my back to them and typed faster.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLZMlbL05OMtNRKIicgTMr89-O98kHfwo6_YvmHB1A303-DxPYIPMiBG_xEJZmHaToUoRMPpd6jBxeEb84AK6CyA_tSYWS3AqIEO6Xp1oBiov6_snB3UgBsJtIEbAKER5LIPybFfLkz1s/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Ship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLZMlbL05OMtNRKIicgTMr89-O98kHfwo6_YvmHB1A303-DxPYIPMiBG_xEJZmHaToUoRMPpd6jBxeEb84AK6CyA_tSYWS3AqIEO6Xp1oBiov6_snB3UgBsJtIEbAKER5LIPybFfLkz1s/s320/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Ship.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
planet Hagalaz isn't exactly a planet you casually make plans for. A
garden world in the Hourglass Nebula known for being a planet
of two extremes at all times. Aside from the local flora, nothing can
sustain the constant shift from boiling heat and bone-shattering
cold. But the storms that rage across the planet due to those
disparate changes in weather is what makes the Broker's base here so
fascinating. The station is constantly riding the storms, collecting
the lightning discharged in the clouds in order to power and sustain the station while also
using it as natural camo and defense. If it wasn't for the
coordinates the Broker sent to Tela's Tool, we never would have found
the place.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As
expected, the landing pad was expecting us, complete with armed
guards. I sent out the ID and codes the Broker forwarded as Jack
started landing procedure. Our borrowed time hadn't run out yet....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright,
phase one of Operation Tee Kay Four-Two-One is go.” I said, taking
off my helmet and turning my back to the shuttle doors as they slid
open. “Jack, Liara, you know what to do....”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sometimes
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA2pbtnyJAE">the best tricks
are the simplest ones</a>.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
three of us entered the base, our steps quick and precise, our stolen
armor a bit tight in certain spots, the doors wide open for us.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Goddess
this is crazy. If they spot us we're all gonna end up dead.” Liara
muttered under her breath.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh
don't get your panties in a bunch, princess. Variza knows what she's
doing.” Jack replied.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Does
anyone know how to get the map to this base from this terminal?” I
asked. Jack facepalmed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After
about five minutes of fiddling we continued our way through the
facility. A bona fide labyrinth of data banks, energy storage units
for all the lightning outside, and makeshift barracks for the
Broker's personal mercenary squad. We doubled our pace to the
Broker's main room, the invisible seconds ticking by before he either called my bluff as Tela or the guards put two and two together.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
bodyguard was a krogan who asked us for clearance codes, citing that
security was going up since the guys outside discovered what happened
to the poor saps we robbed and left knocked out back at the ship; our
one flavor of time was up. Jack and I gave our password by slamming
the krogan into a lightning pod with our collective telekinetic power.
There were enough gigajoules packed in there to turn him to ash.
Liara then began working on opening the door. It would have worked a
lot better if we got the datapad off the krogan before we immolated
him. Either way, by the time the doors opened, the hallway behind was
beginning to fill with armored mercs set to kill.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We
slipped inside and Liara braced the door behind us, smashing the
control console and beginning to warp the metal of the door with her
biotic strength, bracing it against a breach team.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
room was large and circular, a window looking out to the raging
swirling chaos that was the perpetual storm dominating the entire
right wall. The left, a collection of large pipe-sized wires pumping
power to another large collection of data banks. In the middle, a
dull silver light illuminated the metal floor, coming from a large
storage vat on the ceiling coursing with raw power.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
in the very back was the Shadow Broker. A large intimidating
silhouette of something large, tall, and possibly horned, the only
light there coming from several holo displays.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack
and I aimed our pistols at his head and fired several rounds, a
personal biotic shield hummed online to block several shots, the
phasic rounds from my gun passing through and...more or less annoying
him. Either way, he looked up and finally gave us his undivided
attention.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss
T'Som,” his voice was a deep booming bass, “perhaps you should
take some advice from your people...” He slowly stood up. He was at
least fifteen feet tall, looking like he could eat a krogan and still
be full, “...and think about your future.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OfXMYkM2kI0a7APuiFYwEMb-lTPSuJudT7ANxvRvE2viwRxZXBOISYhDuUCH2jqeaLMFRZmGPvy-zLDxMaUWWonLSsUi2yMpumV1WgnSojBiDuXvI6R4PyH3mihMkH_noKiizwNCwcE/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1194" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OfXMYkM2kI0a7APuiFYwEMb-lTPSuJudT7ANxvRvE2viwRxZXBOISYhDuUCH2jqeaLMFRZmGPvy-zLDxMaUWWonLSsUi2yMpumV1WgnSojBiDuXvI6R4PyH3mihMkH_noKiizwNCwcE/s320/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Profile.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Blue,
what the hell is that thing? Where is the Shadow Broker?” Jack
seethed, clearly trying to drown out her fear with bluster.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That
is the Shadow Broker. Were you expecting some spindly scrawny
bookworm with a god complex?” I maintained my stance and kept my pistol level, even while my legs threatened to quake like jelly.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
Broker growled in disgust at my leap of logic, clearly wanting to
relish in the terror of the unknown. Still, he continued forward, his
steps rumbling throughout the room. I even heard Liara gasp “goddess”
under her breath as she turned back from her bracing the door.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let's
see who thought it wise to enter into my domain. An insignificant
asari scientist out of her depth, trying to bring the galaxy together
for a science project. A reformed criminal turned Alliance black ops
agent who thinks she has a chance at being more than the terrible
past she was saddled with.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey
fuck you!” Jack yelled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Who
despite doing everything possible to destroy her history, blowing up
her old home on Pragia, blowing up Cerberus facilities all across the
Milky Way, still desperately craves anything that makes her feel human
again. Even if it's something as simple as her real name....”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm
serious! I will rip you to fucking pieces!” She was practically
foaming at the mouth and I could feel her summoning up a lot of raw
biotic might, her hands shaking in a mix of anger and fear.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then...there's
you.” the Broker pointed a large leathery finger at me, it
highlighted partially by the lightning battery above, his steps
getting ever closer.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The
asari with no past. No history at all. Yet winds up center in almost pre-cognitive
coincidences. Your attempted assassination of Saren long before he was declared rogue by the Council. The completely
unfounded discovery of advanced weaponry you used as a base for a
weapons company. A weapons company you have deliberately not built to
last by the way it's been burning through resources and being
selective about its clientele just enough to keep the lights on.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tell
me something I don't know, you overgrown sack of crap.” I balled up
my fist with biotic strength as well, keeping my pistol steady with
one hand. Or at least trying to, it was shaking like hell.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
Broker chuckled and motioned towards one of his monitors. And some
audio played. It was from my conversation with Jump on Omega...he had
spies recording it. I could feel Jack and Liara looking at me in
disbelief after hearing my own angry ravings about wishing to have a
man's body again, my frustrations with attracting the Male (Female? Anything With a Mind and Pulse?) Gaze and corporate boot licking, and declaring that the whole T'Som persona was an
act. That I was only here to stop the Reapers.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was even videos of me in my penthouse from the inside, somehow. Spliced together footage of me either lazing on a couch or relaxing in an herbal bath repeating phrases like "screw you Jump" or "Come on, just a few more years."</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Blue...what
the hell have you been keeping from us?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyH8mkDM-1Y9yovLsMOku1oitgeIVN3bXVvTeq1Vik29ixBFM1PzFNwszaK7-EDSXdT94dE612YJxYm9Lf7xdKnHaJwDFZ1g-vMqxaULRYHVh1pUILkuO3BQD2ntVDLlgDfAHcCDMG6IQ/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyH8mkDM-1Y9yovLsMOku1oitgeIVN3bXVvTeq1Vik29ixBFM1PzFNwszaK7-EDSXdT94dE612YJxYm9Lf7xdKnHaJwDFZ1g-vMqxaULRYHVh1pUILkuO3BQD2ntVDLlgDfAHcCDMG6IQ/s320/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A
question I'm not the only interested in having answered....” the
Broker finally stepped into the light. He was large, tall and wide
respectively, wearing a suit of armor that looked more like
repurposed ship plating than standard armor. Also being carried
lazily by one of his massive arms was an assault rifle. Actually
calling it an assault rifle would be like a saber a toothpick, it was
more like an assault canon from a scout class ship jerryrigged
together for personal use.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I
had a simple deal with the Collectors for your precious head, Miss
T'Som. Someone like you has been an unbearable thorn in my side for
too long, and they were willing to work with me. Either I hand you to
them dead or alive, preferably alive, and I get left alone. Your
company and its assets for...insurance.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Since
you've made it this far I offer you a choice. Lay down your arms
right now, and I will allow your friends to leave, and allow you to
live before I deliver you to the Collectors. Refuse, and I will take
great pleasure in scrubbing your entrails out of my quarters within
two minutes.” In his right arm, a shield formed out of holographic
light. He then held it front of him with the barrel of the rifle
sticking out like a Spartan phalanx.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza,
I mean...whoever you are. Maybe we should think this through. We can
call Shepard, we can stage a rescue we can...” whatever Jack was
about to say was forgotten as the Broker took two more steps
toward her. The power coursing through her fists vanished in
disbelief of what she was seeing.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Listen
to Jack!” Liara yelled. “You throw this away and you'll doom us
all for nothing.” She slowly approached Jack, clearly getting ready
to make a sprint for the exit.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry,
already had this argument in my mind on the way over here. And I say
no.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
Broker snarled and stepped forward, aiming his rifle right at me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Second
offer. Won't happen again.” He growled.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
took a deep breath and stared him dead in the face.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do
you really think the Collectors will just let you go? You're a yahg.
Your entire race are a bunch of brutes with less sense than the Krogans, hell your first reaction to being invited into Citadel space was attack the delegation. You're beyond a shadow of
a doubt a major glitch in their system. They would love to just snuff
out. Another piece of worthless flesh to be stomped out by the
Reapers. Hell, the only reason why you're even useful to them at all
is because they want me. Which means I hold all the cards here.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza!!”
Liara and Jack yelled in unison.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So
let me give you a counter-offer Mister I Thought Of Everything. Release anyone you've captured in an
attempt to leverage info on me. You let us go. And when Shepard and I
stop the Collectors and the Reapers... <i>we'll</i> let you live. Or
you can try to kill us and see how long the Collectors are willing
to allow an oversized monguloid like yourself survive when the purge
happens. And trust me on this, you want to take the former, not that
you would know a good deal from a bad one you overly pampered,
entitled, man-baby!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
Broker roared, its bellow rattling throughout the facility. He disbanded the
shield, dropped his rifle and came charging straight at me... right
under the lightning battery.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
unleashed every ounce of biotic power I had in me and started pushing
back against the yahg, my hand outstretched pouring wave upon wave of
dark power into a continuous push. It wasn't slowing him down at all.
I then aimed my pistol at the lightning contained above him and fired
like mad, using the power already flowing from my hand to push me
away from the Broker instead of the other way around, moving me away
from the incoming pain train.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After
several shots the containment pod breached and large arcs of white
light spiraled out of control, showering the Broker in raw electric
fury. His roars quickly turned to pure anguish.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack!
Liara! Hit him with everything you got!” I yelled over the
deafening booms and crackles of the arc storm ripping through thick
yahg flesh.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack
didn't hesitate, she was practically begging for a chance to cut
loose. She threw out her hands in furious determination, and more
biotic power poured on him. If the pain wasn't keeping him in place,
two adepts pinning him to the ground just might.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
Liara joined in, adding her strength as well. Three powerful tethers
of mass effect fields pinning this brute down as he slowly gets
vaporized....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
the safety kicked on the device, an insulated panel covered the burst
pod, the lights and displays flickering off then on again signaling a
switch to back-up power. The Broker got up from one knee, his body
charred and smoked but still very much alive.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He
turned to collect his Liefeld-esque assault rifle...only to see Jack
already there. Propping up the entire barrel on her shoulders to tilt
the thing upwards towards the Broker's midsection, her body coursing
with biotic energy in an attempt to disperse the ungodly recoil. She
must have broke off the connection once the unit repaired itself.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0U8dMrqDZOcvNWGqTHUtRQvUgjh7800BOg-d5z9BTf9JkwWt_7KumeSMqT16cG3tfpAuw-CdjNfdeMaOm4-O_eXaTgCeDuzRZXrfxvb_dC4vWYBinwne9hgq1ZzQLSrcleFgcpV5zAU/s1600/Gamora+Gun+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="800" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0U8dMrqDZOcvNWGqTHUtRQvUgjh7800BOg-d5z9BTf9JkwWt_7KumeSMqT16cG3tfpAuw-CdjNfdeMaOm4-O_eXaTgCeDuzRZXrfxvb_dC4vWYBinwne9hgq1ZzQLSrcleFgcpV5zAU/s320/Gamora+Gun+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She
screamed as the rifle's barrel started to wind up, it was then
quickly drowned out the ear-shattering rapid fire of the rifle
cutting through his flesh. If it was affecting him, he didn't show it
as he charged at Jack like a bull.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Liara
go low!” I bellowed out as I summoned dark energy into my right arm
and broke into a dead sprint.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What!?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Aim
for his legs!” I was about halfway to intercepting his assault on
Jack.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Got
it!” And with a thought Liara threw a powerful wave of power,
cutting through the air in front of me in dark blue waves as it
struck the back of the Broker's right leg, causing him to bodily fall
to the floor, completely hopeless against Jack's improvised artillery
strike. Then the barrel overheated and started to wind down, Jack
screamed in protest from the heat cooking her shoulder.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A
beat later, I ran, using the Broker's knee as a step up to give him a
big mass effect uppercut. It knocked him to the ground and blasted
all the plating off the right arm. There was also the all too
familiar heat of a pulled muscle in the forearm from overtaxation. But what else was new with me?</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before
the Broker could start getting his bearings again. I gestured to
Liara and Jack while holding out some grenades that were on the armor
belt. They all detached several as well.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“One
potato, two potato, three potato, let 'em fly!” I yelled while
chucking my payload at the big lug.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One,
two, three large bangs filled the room, all aimed at the thing's
face. The floor was quickly covered in blast marks and streaks of
orange blood. Then silence....</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
kept my pistol trained on his face. Liara and Jack followed suit.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is
he dead?” Liara belted out, her voice shakey.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack
walked over to him and unloaded her entire clip into his head.
Spraying more blood everywhere. She then callously ejected her clip.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well,
he is now.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
the Broker screamed in bloodcurdling fury and grabbed her in his
hand. He started to squeeze hard, Jack's armor cracking like
peppermint.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack!”
Liara screamed.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My
body moving on its own, I dove towards Jack, propelling my body
forward like a missile, my hand reaching out to the insular
plate on the lightning pod at the same time. And with a thought and a
twist, I corkscrewed mid-air, pulling off the plate with what little
strength I had left. The arcs of energy struck down renewed, the
currents forcing the Broker's hand open on biomechanical reflex,
just in time for me to tackle Jack out of the rest of the blast. But
not before some of the electricity cooked me, the current causing my
limbs to spasm and jerk about. If it weren't for the insulation given
by the security armor, it probably would have stopped my heart.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We
collapsed in a crumpled heap while the Broker let out his death
rattle, the unleashed lightning finally finishing the job reducing
him to a large blast mark on the ground, the only sound left filling the chamber was the crackling of the breached battery and the groan of the station beginning to lose its vital systems. Liara quickly began using
her telekinesis to re-attach the plate while Jack and I slowly
climbed off of each other.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
then heard muffled voices on the opposite side of the braced door.
“Screw it, let's just cut through it!”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Time was up. Liara
was busy fixing the generator I just messed up. Jack is most likely in traction from the
Broker's kung-fu grip, or my desperate body tackle. And I only got a
messed up arm.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
dashed to the monitors the Broker was looking over before we barged
in. Scanning over the multiple screens I finally found the settings
for base-wide announcements, and a voice modulator. The same one he
used to mask his voice before. I turned it on and spoke.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This
is the Shadow Broker. The intruders have been dealt with. You may all
return to your posts. Any defiance of this order and you will be
ejected from this base. Attention everyone on Engineering decks I expect a full status report on all systems within five minutes. If so much as two percent of my servers have been corrupted, there will be consequences.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
remained silent and muted the mic. I finally heard a dismissive
“well, serves them right the crazies” from the other side of the
door. I let out a sigh of relief.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally,
it was over. Now I just needed to figure out how to transfer his
ownership of my company back over to me and my trustees, invite
Shepard over to let him have his pick of this treasure trove, and just relax.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
I heard another thermal clip being slotted into a pistol as Liara
loomed over me.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright...I
think you owe both of us a major explanation. Right now. Whoever you
are.”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-75980296814608732422018-01-15T15:05:00.000-08:002018-01-19T01:15:19.827-08:00State of the Tavern 2018<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hello everyone, it's been 2018 for about two weeks now and I just
realized I've had a terrible habit of not addressing anniversaries
here at the Cybertavern. So before I upload the next chapter of
Multiverse Desperado let's do some kitchen details while looking back
at what I believe I have personally accomplished through writing on
this blog.<br />
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Starting With....</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Animation Deviation!</span></div>
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As the name implied, the entire intent of this series of posts was
for me to stretch some critical and creative muscles I don't usually
implement, looking a bit more in-depth at animated films and tv
shows.
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Curiously enough this did lead to me re-discovering a love for anime
that I haven't had for well over a decade. Stuff like <i>Dragonball
Super</i>,<i> My Hero Academia</i>, and <i>The Ancient Magus' Bride</i>, have been
absolute staples of my weekend media catch-up, plus discovering films
by studios that <i>aren't</i> headed by Hayao Miyazaki. I know I'm a
little late to the party on most of the stuff that I commented on,
and I do not claim to be an expert on current trends or have high
taste, you're talking to someone who is put off by <i>Food Wars</i> but
enjoys<i> Restaurant To Another World</i> for example, but it's a good
exercise I like to continuously work on to broaden my horizon and not
just lock off the entire medium as something that I just grew out of.</div>
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Which does bring me to a sort of embarrassing confession. For a while
I was teasing that I was going to give the Animation Deviation
treatment to .hack//SIGN for a while. The series and its sequel,
.hack//ROOT recently went up on Crunchyroll and it seemed like the
best time to give such an influential series a chance. But right when
I was putting the finishing touches on it to upload it...my computer
crashed so hard I had to wipe the drive and perform a hard reset. On
the exact same day I usually do back-ups of such things.<br />
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So sorry folks, looks like that's gonna be the one that got away.</div>
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But short version: Holds up pretty well, some of commentary on gamer
culture is a bit dated in the social media age, and manages to tell a
central mystery narrative as well as build up future intrigue without
cheapening the central conflict. Also early 2000s tendencies to keep
putting original music into otherwise quiet scenes is a bit annoying
but damn if they aren't catchy!</div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Multiverse Desperado</span></div>
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Things are actually coming along swimmingly with the JumpChain. Ever
since I was introduced to it by my friends via Reddit, it's become a
surprisingly fun outlet for creative fanfiction. Something I honestly
haven't done since my early teens.</div>
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That being said, I have noticed certain members of my readership
asking, some even demanding that I reveal the choices I've made and
the items I have acquired upfront.</div>
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And you know what? That is a reasonable request.</div>
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Half of the fun that comes with doing a JumpChain is the same one
gets from a Choose Your Own Adventure book. Choosing what allies,
items, and powers you get while also deciding what drawbacks or
weaknesses will affect you the most.</div>
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And there are plenty of writers out there who take copious amounts of
glee in taking Jumps in the right settings and creating flat out
broken builds for their Jumpers. And for those who like to game the
system and feel like they've made a godkiller, I'm not here to judge.</div>
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That being said, my method of writing and handling my JumpChain is a
bit different. So different in fact that some commenters on the blog
want me to just get to the point and basically “show my work.”</div>
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And so I will make a concession and basically reveal the personal
rules I abide by when it comes to writing and understanding the style
of my JumpChain. I don't know if this has an established Style, but
since until then we can just call it Digi-Style.</div>
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<b>Rule 1: JumpChain
Choices Are Revealed When The Jump Concludes</b></div>
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Yeah, call it crazy but rather than show things up front, the readers
will only get to see the Stats once the particular Jump is over,
either by death, success or choosing to stay in that world.</div>
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The reason for this is I am treating JumpChains as more of a creative
writing exercise than anything else. And the one thing that
immediately kills tension, pacing, or even just generally interesting
storytelling is heavily telegraphed predestination.
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For example, if I took the Marvel Cinematic Universe Jump and took
the Drawback that Thanos The Mad Titan wants to kill me to take my
power, then articulated that to the entire readership, the ENTIRE
Jump is nothing but build up to or resolution of that large plotline
because of how much it dominates everything else. And stretching that
out over ten whole years is exhausting, like eating nothing but
chocolate for a whole week.</div>
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Using this approach, it leaves everyone in the dark, wondering
exactly how things will progress. Will this character become a
companion in later adventures? Will the Jumper make the deal with the
devil for power? Is that Warehouse going to get any bigger? The list
goes on. And if your prose is up to snuff, it should feel natural.</div>
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This is so that other accomplishments or notable achievements done in
the Jump can also be noted for legacy's sake. Case in Point, the <i>Mass
Effect</i> Jump I'm currently in does have me start with 40k Credits, a
little sneak peek of what I did pick up, but due to a lot of
shenanigans in the actual prose, I wound up becoming the head of a
company with a decently accessible trust fund. On a pure numbers
level, I only “bought” those 40k Credits, but through
storytelling it was an investment I made for something greater.</div>
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That and there will always be that one guy, you know who you are, who
will condescendingly rattle off multiple “better” ways of
optimizing the journey. Which is something I do my best to not
entertain since it sucks the fun out of the whole thing. Which brings
me to....</div>
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<b>Rule 2: Items are
Given, Perks are Earned</b></div>
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The reason for this rule is to try to keep newfound skills and
abilities as diegetic as possible. Weapons, tools or vehicles can be
received as soon as possible, either handwaved as a present from Jump
or something earned then stored in the Jumper's Warehouse, whereas
other Perks that convey skills or powers are naturally acquired and
improved upon. Getting the ability to go Super Saiyan because you
bought it with CP cheapens the whole thing. Building up to an iconic
instance where you attain Super Saiyan form is immediately more
exciting.</div>
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<b>Rule 3:
Interchanging Jump Progression</b></div>
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Alright this is actually a mild twist on another form of progression
another writer I know utilizes. The method basically goes like this:
Your first Jump is determined via die roll. Assign numbers to all
Jumps you plan to go to, save the End Jump and any Jumps that blend
into others like Metal Gear Solid and Rising or the Dishonored Jumps - those are lumped together under single number as well for the sake of continuity,
and then roll some polyhedral dice. And that's where you go! Choose
your Perks wisely and figure out how you survive.</div>
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However, the second Jump will then be one you decide. Maybe it's a
much needed easygoing jump or something more challenging, doesn't
matter it's your choice. Third Jump is determined by roll, fourth is
a choice, and so on.</div>
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This is done so that there is a level of unpredictability to what
happens from Jump to Jump while also giving you a small modicum of
control. True you don't get the appeal of a tightly scripted odyssey
through pop media, but at the same time you don't get situations
where you just win everything easily because you got the right perk
at the right time at the right setting cuz you did all the maths
correctly.</div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I mean did you seriously think I wanted to take <i>Mass Effect</i> as my
first Jump? Hell no! But the struggle has lead to some entertaining
prose in my humble opinion! I'm living it!</div>
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<b>Rule 4: Write The
Jump As Inclusively As Possible</b></div>
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Did I really need to dedicate north of three chapters of my <i>Mass
Effect</i> Jump to explain the N7 program, the Reapers, the concept of mass effect fields, the Krogan Genophage, or the First Contact War?
To those who know the <i>Mass Effect</i> universe and know that the details
are a mere wikipedia entry away, it would come off as a lot of wasted
words and time.</div>
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But what happens when the next Jump goes to somewhere totally alien
to the reader in question and the whole thing turns into a bunch of
proper nouns, names, and places that amount to a lot of nonsense? You
lose yourself a reader then!</div>
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The curious thing about fan fiction IMHO is that the author truly
loves a setting so much as to want to write a story in that world,
which can actually create new fans of the material if things are done
right. And with something that blatantly crosses over multiple
settings like a JumpChain, a lot of early clarity can save a lot of
confusion later.</div>
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So yes, those are my personal rules for writing my personal JumpChain
series, Multiverse Desperado. Hope it becomes a bit more apparent why
they take so long now</div>
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<br /></div>
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Which finally leads me to the fate of....</div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Saturday Sidequest</b></span></div>
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I am shelfing it indefinitely! Yeah I'm basically doing away with it.
Long story short, money talks. But it will be replaced with...</div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My Thoughts!</span></div>
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Due to the indefinite holding off of That Random Podcast Show, due to
a combination of scheduling issues, YouTube's draconian Content ID
bullshit, and underwhelming grasp of Premiere, I have got a lot of
thoughts on current events that I would absolutely love to get off my
chest. And since it was cathartic as hell to do it in the aftermath
of seeing Star Wars: The Last Jedi, I'm gonna make it a more regular
thing, albeit with a less regular schedule. Geeky movie comes out?
Here's my thoughts on it. Cool TV show came out? Here's My Thoughts.
It'll...almost be like a real formal casual blog! Perish the
thought!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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And with that I think that's it for details. Here's to 2018 everyone!</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-3695420551811812312017-12-29T18:51:00.003-08:002017-12-29T18:51:49.774-08:00Remembering The 12th Doctor and the End of Moffat Era
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My fellow
cybertavern patrons, Christmas is finally over and the end of 2017 is
finally upon us. We shall celebrate with booze and burning a symbol
of the year to the ground while cheering like howler monkeys!! Or in
my case watching a giant strawberry slowly go down a building
coordinated to a fireworks display. Different strokes and all that.</div>
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Of course my
Christmas was pleasantly low key. Gifts were exchanged, dinner was
had with loving family, and once all of that was taken care of I
returned home and watched the Doctor Who Christmas Special and
finally witnessed the end of the current incarnation of The Doctor
played by the brilliant Peter Capaldi and the final episode by the
current showrunner, executive producer, and fandom punching bag
Steven Moffat.</div>
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And man oh man was
it an entertaining watch. Seeing two different variations of The
Doctor from two VERY different eras interact with one another. There
was an actual swerve in the plot that felt earned rather than a
cheat, almost like Moffat remembered how he actually won his two Hugo
Awards from working on the show instead of writing on auto-pilot, and
of course there was a truly heart-warming tale about the power of the
season and the overall selflessness and goodwill deep within the
human spirit that got my all teary-eyed.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Yes, consider that
my one paragraph long review-in-a-nutshell for the Christmas Special,
Twice Upon A Time. Because now I'm gonna look over the history of
both the three seasons of good old Number Twelve and the legacy of
Steven Moffat's run on the BBC's longest-running sci-fi franchise
ever.</div>
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But first, in case
anyone actually reading this blog has no idea what I'm talking about
as small a case as that may be, it's time for backstory! (For everyone else just scroll until you hit the Patrick face image.)</div>
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Doctor Who is about
a human-looking alien being called The Doctor. He has a ship that can
travel through time and space called a Tardis. It looks like an
old-timey blue police call box, is bigger on the inside, and he uses
it to travel the cosmos getting into adventures. He usually travels
with a human friend called a Companion who gets to see just how
beautiful and surprisingly dangerous the universe is, and interacting
with (as well as humanizing) the otherwise alien lead character.
Everything else in between is just The Doctor and his friends dealing
with dangerous aliens, solving mysteries, and protecting people from
horrible calamities, all with quick and witty one-liners and some
fast thinking.</div>
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But one of the
biggest keys to how the show has stayed on the air for over fifty
years is the concept of Regeneration. Whenever The Doctor is fatally
wounded, usually from some grand adventure or climactic battle of
wits against his Rogue's Gallery, instead of dying his entire body
restores itself but in doing so rearranges his physical appearance
and his personality. This basically allowed actors playing The Doctor
a way to bow out of the show once their contract expired and a way to
bring in new talent to put a different spin on a character while also
fitting in the lore and atmosphere of the show proper as well as
giving an opportunity for new creative teams to come in and keep the
show interesting.</div>
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Which of course has
given the show a lot of longevity, thanks in part to it being more or
less a space fantasty show with some of the most liberal rules for
time travel I've ever seen, and a generally agreed upon tone for The
Doctor and his adventures. He doesn't use guns, he uses words. He
always tries to be nice and gives the villains a chance to surrender.
The Companions don't try to directly benefit from traveling with The
Doctor because it usually backfires, the list goes on. Otherwise,
episodes can include just about anything from an alien invasion plot
happening in Industrial Revolution era New York, an Agatha Christie
mystery that has the murders carried out by giant bees, a race
against the clock to stop an ancient Egyptian God from returning to
the physical plane, a psychological locked room thriller with a
shapeshifter, a whimsical adventure involving Robin Hood and robots,
to getting help from Santa Claus to prevent the world from falling
into permanent comas on Christmas Eve.</div>
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None of those were
made up by the way. Those are the actual set-ups for episodes of this
show. Drink it in.</div>
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For me, my
introduction to the show was during the show's revival in the 2000s
with Christopher Eccleston playing the Ninth incarnation of The
Doctor and the showrunner was Russell T. Davies. There are fond
memories of course, but it also has me labeled as simply a New Who
fan. Like the divide between Original Star Trek and Next Generation,
the Doctor Who community is split between those who managed to watch
and enjoy the original show's run up to its last broadcast in the
1980s and all the strengths and weaknesses of broadcast standards and
practices at the time, and the 2000s revival to the present, which
can almost feel like a superhero show at times.</div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
For the record I
have seen some classic episodes involving Patrick Troughton's Second
Doctor and fan favorite Tom Baker as the Fourth Doctor. They remind
me a lot of old film adaptations of pulpy adventure novels like HG
Wells' <i>The Time Machine</i> or <i>Fantastic Voyage</i>. The
effects are super-cheesy and the sets look fake as hell but the
acting and presentation are just good enough for you to buy it if you
can suspend your disbelief. Great in their own right, just too
expensive for me to fully invest given how the old stuff is almost
impossible to get a hold of.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">End of Backstory!</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alright, for the
rest of you who actually want to know my legit thoughts, let's get
started with the big old elephant in the room with the showrunner....</div>
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</div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Steven Moffat's
Run on Doctor Who</b></span></div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Steven Moffat can be a clever writer and has been one in the past.</div>
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Put down the guns and hear me out!</div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Moffat's style has become a bit of a punchline for the Doctor Who
fandom but I do want to give credit where credit is due. As I
mentioned before, the guy has actually won two Hugo awards in the
past for writing episodes for the show, some of which are beloved fan
favorites such as the two-parter The Empty Child with the Ninth
Doctor handling a mind-altering virus infecting hospital victims in
WW2 Britain, and Blink, the introductory episode of the entities
known as The Weeping Angels with fangirl favorite David “Tenth
Doctor” Tennant.</div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The thing with Moffat's approach to writing an episode is that they
mostly work best as one-offs. The reason why his episodes were
beloved to the point that he replaced Russell T. Davies as showrunner
was that they were darker, both in tone and color palette, and the
initial pitch or central conflict dealt with more abstract concepts,
making the threat the Doctor faces a puzzle of sorts on a much larger
scale than just sabotaging the villain of the week's plan with some
crossed wires.</div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Bad</b></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The problems with this approach however is the demand for escalation
leads to a fair amount of Moffat's episodes to fall apart in the last
ten minutes via unearned Deus Ex Machina. Imagine if someone said you
had an hour to solve an elaborate puzzle box. Half of that time is
learning what can be done and can't be done. You keep fumbling with
the box trying to get parts to move or click or react in some way all
to no avail. Then when the hour is up the person shows up and just
smashes the puzzle box with a mallet and says that was the solution
all along. That is probably the most appropriate metaphor I can think
of for a lot of Moffat's duds during his run on the show.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In fact, YouTuber hbomberguy brought up similar structural problems
and plot shortcuts during another BBC beloved drama, Sherlock, which
Moffat also writes and has a producer credit on.</div>
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</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This method especially doesn't help when some of those metaphorical
mallet smashes are corny or overly melodramatic reveals that are
mediocre at best and insulting at worst. Furthermore, there is such a
thing as being too abstract and vague to the point where a simple
solution is so bleeding obvious to everyone BUT the characters
involved and it becomes a pain to watch.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Case in point, the reviled episode <i>The Angels Take Manhattan</i>, an
episode where the Eleventh Doctor played by Matt Smith basically
loses his Companion Amy Pond and her husband Rory to The Weeping
Angels who have completely taken over the statues in New York
(including the Statue of Liberty), and have somehow prevented the
Tardis from directly returning to the point and time where the Angels
took them. Instead of doing the smart thing like traveling to outside
the New York limits then just getting a taxi into the city proper and
doing something clever, he just gives up. It is not the only problem
with the episode by a long shot, but it's the most egregious.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now take that whole formula of Interesting Concept, Elaborate Set-Up,
Flawed Pathos followed by Terrible Pay-Off and spread that over
entire seasons of the show. The deeply ingrained appeal of Doctor Who
is that the show feels almost inherently episodic. You really can't
do a season long story arc with a character that casually time
travels and explores the universe without some serious forthought.
But apparently Moffat didn't get the memo and it leads to multiple
seasons brimming with promise, only to have all that potential kicked
out the door during the pay off.</div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The best by default was the premiere season of the Eleventh Doctor
and Moffat's first season since it was building up new major
villains. Basically some sort of doomsday cult that's trying to learn
the true name of The Doctor since a prophecy stated the day it is
declared is the day the Doctor would die. The new baddies are
defeated and that whole plot point is discarded. The new villains,
The Silence, stuck around due to shear popularity.</div>
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</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then you had the nonsense during Capaldi's run as Number Twelve.
Multiple plot threads were left unresolved despite being built up as
being important. Major motivations kept changing on a dime. It
seriously felt like Moffat didn't have an editor AT ALL during these
seasons because some simple “whys” and hows” asked during the
first draft could have smoothed a lot of this out.</div>
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</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It must also be said that the occasionally harder episode with muted
colors and harsh lighting in a show full of optimism and joy is
fine, but entire seasons with that sensibility can read as
incongruous to long-time fans of the show back when it wasn't afraid
to be whimsical.</div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Worst Episodes Of the Run </b></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Death in Heaven</i> (The Master gets an army of cybermen made up
of the dead then gives them to The Doctor. He refuses and then they
all blow up. Really)</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>In The Forest of Night</i> (The trees of Earth save the planet
from a solar flare shot out by the sun by...reinforcing the
atmosphere. What!?)</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Kill The Moon</i> (Crazy monster sized bacteria monsters and
earthquakes are happening on the moon, but don't worry turns out the
moon is just a really large space dragon egg... REALLY!)</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<i>The Angels Take Manhatten</i> (Just take a taxi Doctor!)</div>
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</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Nightmare in Silver</i> (The Doctor plays Chess with himself while
Cybermen attack a sideshow attraction)</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Listen</i> (The Doctor gets super paranoid after being alone for
too long and almost kills himself trying to find something that
ultimately isn't there. Also Clara somehow visits The Doctor when he
was just a little boy and indirectly kicked this whole thing off.
Whoops)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Asylum of The Daleks</i> (Imagine Arkham Asylum but with xenophobic mass murdering aliens monsters. Who share a hive mind with their other people...and would be better off dead...it just raises too many questions) </div>
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<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Sleep No More</i> (A found footage thriller where scientists turn
into monsters made out of sleep scum because they wanted to eliminate
the need for rest. Yes It's as dumb as it sounds.)</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Hell Bent</i> (After surviving the events of Heaven Sent, The
Doctor returns to his long lost home planet of Gallifrey to rescue
his Companion Clara. It ends with his memory wiped and Clara riding
off in a Tardis made to look like a 1950s diner.)</div>
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</div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Good</b></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alright, now for the part where I'll probably be shot to pieces. When
it comes to singular episodes with a focused set-up, Steven Moffat's
approach can be amazing and this is usually thanks to some pretty
solid character interactions and good drama. I mentioned it before
when I talked about The Last Jedi but character flaws are not plot
holes and when you have interesting characters allowed to be
characters, certain bouts of oddness can be forgiven.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In fact Moffat added a lot of new wrinkles to the mythos of Doctor
Who. In addition to new enemies like The Weeping Angels and The
Silence, there was also the introduction of new allies like the
lizard woman Vastra, her wife, and their Sontaran assistant and The
Wife of the Doctor, River Song.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hell the greatest example might just be the Companion of Clara
Oswald. When she was first introduced, she was pumped full of
Moffat's bad habits. Given some overly complicated backstory and
destiny making her super duper important to the universe and The
Doctor, was treated more like a huge plot Macguffin, the list goes
on. But during her last two seasons on the show, a lot of that
portentous fluff was cut away and people started to actually like
Clara as a character. She tried balancing having a boyfriend while
traveling with The Doctor on the side, she became a school teacher
and had to deal with newfound responsibilities of being associated
with a Time Lord. She was allowed to be fleshed out and be enjoyed as
a character in her own right.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also while the start and end of individual seasons were an exercise
in watching a craftsman make solid gold statues of farting butts, a
lot of the self-contained episodes are pretty solid in their own
right. A lot of them are thanks to a firm grip on conflict and
stakes. Examples include the two parter The Zygon Invasion, which
includes probably my favorite speech ever by the Doctor</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/BJP9o4BEziI/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BJP9o4BEziI?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In fact the best season on balance by far was Season 10 of New Who,
Capaldi's final. The set-up was simple with The Doctor beginning to
travel again with new Companion Bill Potts after posing as a
university professor for a while and from there it was just simple
stories again. The closest thing to a running mystery was resolved
halfway through, the Doctor trying to reform an evil Time Lord known
as The Master (aka Missy Time Lords can regenerate into women too)
and it was actually allowed to play out naturally instead of being
stretched out like a maligned Abrams Mystery Box.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which does bring me to another one of Moffat's strengths that he
brought to this run: an absolute dedication to operatic theatrics and
larger than life storytelling with an entity like The Doctor. His
showdown with the psychic parasite in The Rings of Akhatan, the
climax and resolution of The Wedding of River Song and...basically
the entirety of the episode Heaven Sent are stand-out examples of
this.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which of course leads me to the actual actor behind the sonic
screwdriver after a lot of dry critical analysis of a creative that
has done nothing wrong to me. Yes, time for me to give my thoughts
on...</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RPJECo559LaLrmYnGQKbtQwq7iHOL2NkLbKSTx_c97cmmP1k4-h8PoTBMpjJLiZAnaarXjzWXu8Oh4QfUjibvaa6gewHASK8rDOmOyVDRgN0ygoifceMDf0Pjep73kfWnD3EQZ1g0sQ/s1600/Doctor+Who+12+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="480" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RPJECo559LaLrmYnGQKbtQwq7iHOL2NkLbKSTx_c97cmmP1k4-h8PoTBMpjJLiZAnaarXjzWXu8Oh4QfUjibvaa6gewHASK8rDOmOyVDRgN0ygoifceMDf0Pjep73kfWnD3EQZ1g0sQ/s320/Doctor+Who+12+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Peter Capaldi's
Run as The 12 Doctor</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Capaldi is an amazing actor, clearly classically trained, and
obviously grew up loving Doctor Who as a child. But he also had a
reputation of being a pretty foul-mouthed suit on another show, In
The Thick Of It, and being a much older lead compared to the younger
more attractive prior Doctors to the New Who fandom.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But you know what, that's what I found instantly likeable about
Peter's performance. He feels like he's been through a lot, claiming
to be over 2,000 years old and constantly dealing with major threats,
that kind of world weariness he wears on his sleeve and it makes the
moments where he smiles and jokes all the more enjoyable because he
still has a loving spark within him.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet he doesn't completely come off as a crochety old man. He comes
off more as that passionate University professor that still loves
what he does while still holding on to his wild years when he played
in a band and lived dangerously.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And that wardrobe choice that looks like a classical magician?
Brilliant. </div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
True his first season got wrapped up in the whole non-mystery of
whether or not he was a good man (which was lame) but the later two
seasons showed more of his actual habits and mannerisms. Explosive
and triumphant yet quiet and reserved. Smart but a little
anti-social, and just inhuman enough to be intriguing. He found a
T-Rex attractive in his premiere episode and then later graciously
forgave someone who betrayed him with some poignant lines. To have an
actor embody those various facets and keep it consistent is truly
impressive.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Best Capaldi
Performances and Episodes of the Moffat Era </b></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Heaven Sent</i> (The 12 Doctor is trapped within a hellish prison
made from his greatest nightmares and interrogated by some ghastly
creature. Believing this to be a ploy by his greatest enemies, The
Doctor starts using the rules of the prison against itself and
orchestrates an escape. It's a one man show and Capaldi doesn't miss
a beat!)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Under The Lake and Before The Flood </i>( The 12 Doctor and Clara
investigate an outbreak of ghosts in an underwater facility and
discover it is a plot by an alien warlord known as The Fisher King.
Some time travel and a clever use of The Bootstrap Paradox lead to
one hell of a finale)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Zygon Invasion and The Zygon Inversion</i> (A radical group of
shapeshifting aliens called Zygons call off a long-term ceasefire
between their people and humanity of earth, threatening full on war.
Clara is captured, the leaders of the planetary defense army UNIT are
taken out, and it's down to The Doctor to negotiate peace where
tensions are at their most high.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Extremis</i> (The 12 Doctor is blinded by his last adventure but
is called in by The Vatican to unravel the mystery of an ancient text
called The Veritas. It reveals a horrifying truth of a pending alien
attack by a menace known as The Monks. This was the first of a three
parter but the set-up is rock solid.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Husbands of River Song</i> (The 12 Doctor finally sees his
perpetually time-displaced wife River Song, but discovers that she
has been marrying other people left and right, believing he is too
large of an entity to care about her in a singular sense. It's a
highly contentious episode but the finale melts my heart every time.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Eleventh Hour</i> (Matt Smith's premiere episode as the 11
Doctor. An escaped galactic criminal runs off to Earth and disguises
itself among the populace as a shapeshifter. The Wardens of the
prison threaten to blow up the planet if he is not found. The Doctor
is without his Tardis or his normal tools, and has a race against the
clock to outwit the alien criminal.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The Time of Angels and Flesh and Stone</i> ( The Weeping Angels
return during the 11 Doctor's run and they do not mess around.
Trapped in a cavern system with no way out, allies to The Doctor
start dying left and right by the Angels, leaving him and River Song
to find a way to stop the universe's Perfect Assassins.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Vincent and The Doctor</i> (The Doctor meets Vincent Van Gogh.
After fighting off an alien attack in Provence, he takes Vincent to
the future and lets him admire how beloved of an artist he will be in
the future. Many ugly tears are shed each time I see this one.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The God Complex</i> (The Doctor and his companions enter a
seemingly normal hotel, but the residents are haunted by rooms full
of their greatest fears. There is some entity in the hotel, but its
true nature and motives are a mystery for The Doctor to unravel.)</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alright, that's all I got about Doctor Who. Happy New Year everyone
and here's to 2018....</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbM-ApgApbBh_lqIKMN0zypAc0NhdSrODYH5H6gKJdEnDoTboqzh8QcDvLBDPKE9Wr_N-9P2RV26qi5PPUMa2WRhCaSEaOC4a9rDENmMM7qAFlQOgStu5eUTHd6d6N8MUWxMrqd4fJDY/s1600/.hack+frightened+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="500" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbM-ApgApbBh_lqIKMN0zypAc0NhdSrODYH5H6gKJdEnDoTboqzh8QcDvLBDPKE9Wr_N-9P2RV26qi5PPUMa2WRhCaSEaOC4a9rDENmMM7qAFlQOgStu5eUTHd6d6N8MUWxMrqd4fJDY/s320/.hack+frightened+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes I haven't forgotten about the Animation Deviation on .<i>hack//SIGN</i>
GET OUT OF HERE!</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-29092046369628513622017-12-23T15:00:00.000-08:002017-12-29T18:13:43.986-08:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 22<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 22: Trail to
the Shadow Broker</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The asari world of
Illium isn't exactly the kind of place you go to for a vacation. Due
to the high intensity heat on the surface, many of the colonies are
established in arcology skyscrapers to make it livable, so good luck
relaxing and going to the beach. In fact, the planet's greater
significance in the galaxy is as an entrepol between the lawless
chaos of the Terminus Systems and the Asari Republics. It's also a
place meant for asari elites, complete with palatial estates full of
luxury and some of the best surveillance around. Their prime commerce
is either biotic-oriented pharmaceuticals, or information brokering
for high-end corporate maneuvering.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And Jack and I were
showing up to look for a needle in a haystack.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It didn't go well.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Despite my pull as
the head of a very young but ambitious weapons development company, I
wasn't given the time of day. Other information brokers had waiting
lines going as far back as twenty years and you needed a form of
membership with them. Some just flat out didn't like my bullheaded
short-term approach to business and saw me as a major financial
liability. There was even one who threw in a barb that my choice of
business dress was gaudy and uncoordinated. Ouch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was at a small
cafe where we were grabbing a drink where we caught a lucky break.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do these girls
ever not think their shit doesn't smell?” Jack spat, nursing some
green fizzling soda.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What do you
expect? They think in terms of centuries and decades, not years and
months. Playing the long game is their whole thing. Plus it makes
them more demanding of their clientele and staff.” I mentioned,
taking small sips from a cup of some local soup. Tastes like an
especially peppery lobster bisque curiously enough.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh yeah, sure
I'll take the time aside to rack up fifteen different Masters degrees
and get right to kissing your ass for money.” she rolled her eyes.
A moment later though she drew her attention back to me. “I mean,
no offense blue. You're not like these others. I-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I waved my hand and
gave a small smile, “Don't worry I know what you mean, Jack.” She
smiled back and went back to her soft drink.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now was my
opportunity. I had to tell her the truth.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Uhh Jack. There
is something I have been meaning to tell you.” she turned to look
at me, her expression curious with a mix of cold defense. “There
has been something about me that I think you need to know.” My lips
started to get dry. Dammit why is this getting so hard? Just tell her
you're some interdimensional visitor from another world already rip
the band-aid off! Tell the closest thing to a long-time friend this
big bombshell that might fundamentally alter your relationship
forever.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You have a crush
on me. Yeah, I noticed, blue. You aren't exactly subtle about it and
I told you already, not interested.” Jack replied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's not the
thing!” I blurted out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am actually-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza T'Som!”
A third voice bellowed from across the cafe.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned towards the
source of the shout, scrunched up in anger. Who the hell had the
spine to interrupt this conversation?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnPdqwoWZ9pobzRwQ_BebEbcfnDwk7YXJ1XsTaI0d6gw28CLRFLH-lkbsRr9vMG2LGegHMQVHZ2KW2QCmmnMVULV2hUwaJOvpaQVTVzgMDRRVvqYGStUhEU8Oal8kKqjfvUTL5cMoFkw/s1600/Mass+Effect+Green+Asari.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="1228" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnPdqwoWZ9pobzRwQ_BebEbcfnDwk7YXJ1XsTaI0d6gw28CLRFLH-lkbsRr9vMG2LGegHMQVHZ2KW2QCmmnMVULV2hUwaJOvpaQVTVzgMDRRVvqYGStUhEU8Oal8kKqjfvUTL5cMoFkw/s320/Mass+Effect+Green+Asari.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A dark green asari
apparently. My frustration dissipated immediately. She quickly sat
down at our table, her face noticeably giddy.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I never thought
I'd see you again and officially thank you for what you did back on
Feros!” she said, holding out a hand to me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh right, the
Thorian. Shiala right?” I shook her hand lightly while trying to
smile through gritted teeth.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah. Thank the
goddess I bumped into you. ExoGeni has been making some interesting
strides in their research after that incident, half of which wouldn't
have been possible if you didn't save as many colonists as you
could.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Still makes my
skin crawl that that giant thing was mind-controlling people and
cranked out clones of you to defend itself.” Jack replied, rubbing
her arms nervously.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Speaking of
which, the uhhh,” I did a quick gesture pointing at Shiala's green
skin.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh right,
aftereffect of that plant monster messing with me. I'm...oddly
popular now because of it.” she mused, looking at her right hand
wistfully.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So, what exactly
are you doing here now? Shouldn't you be busy with security or
working on some R&D project or something?” I asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well that's the
thing. I've been meaning to get in contact with Commander Shepard
after things winded down from the battle of the Citadel and haven't
been able to. I wanted a way to thank him and his crew for what they
tried to do on Zhu's Hope, yet here are two members of his old crew
right here.” Shiala explained.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack and I traded
looks.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Can you help us
find a certain information trafficker?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shiala's contacts at
ExoGeni paid off. Feron was currently living at a temporary penthouse
in Nos Astra, Illium's capital city. Made plenty of sense since the
place was full of surveillance to both cover his tracks and crib
information for his employers. I made sure Jack violated some
speeding laws getting us there, we already lost a day or so getting
to Illium anyway.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtuxG8wOAGM06nu-KIo9t8tZbWvsOB54Ox5MAdHYF57MXKjZUEwmyZLUsHFbCir2TTSG050IU9fx5ITs7prQNzdtQn9oUSmA7WO0K53dqJSshd02scT1Xf7XtT5uW61DwdAmBTHL31Wo/s1600/Mass+Effect+Ruined+Building+Interior.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtuxG8wOAGM06nu-KIo9t8tZbWvsOB54Ox5MAdHYF57MXKjZUEwmyZLUsHFbCir2TTSG050IU9fx5ITs7prQNzdtQn9oUSmA7WO0K53dqJSshd02scT1Xf7XtT5uW61DwdAmBTHL31Wo/s320/Mass+Effect+Ruined+Building+Interior.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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After reaching the
landing pad and suiting up with armor and weapons ready, concealed
and with safeties on of course, we were introduced to a pretty
grizzly sight. The doors were torn off their hinges with blaster
fire, several plate glass windows shattered. The only light source
being the bright neon signs of nearby buildings and the occasional
shuttle lights casting dark shadows across the interior.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to Jack.
“I'll take point. This new armor design should be able to tank most
of what an infiltrator might have on him.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Your funeral,
blue.” she quipped, readying her pistol and watching my six.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I stepped through
the threshold and noticed something about the windows. No shards on
the floor; they were blown out from the inside. The living room was
clear.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I motioned to Jack,
“Look for signs of a struggle.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She moved up and
started scanning the area. I slowly continued to what appeared to be
Feron's bedroom. Sheets thrown off and personal belongings scattered
or broken. It was also where I saw a figure in the dark aggressively
opening up a dresser drawer, desperately searching for something
important.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Don't move.” I
spoke firmly, readying my pistol and taking a firing stance. The
figure froze.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Back away from
the dresser and head towards me. Slowly.” The figure slowly
complied. Hands up; actions slow and deliberate.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She then turned on
her heel and quickly drew a pistol from a hip holster and fired
several rounds. My shields resisted them and my armor caught several
of the blows, all while I focused my pistol and disarmed my opponent
with a single pull of the trigger. Four bangs, four flashes of the
barrels, and the flying visage of the pistol through the air happened
within roughly two seconds. I knew there was a reason why I installed
recoil dampeners in the arm guards.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Alright, gimme
one good reason why I shouldn't put one in your skull right now?” I
demanded, keeping my distance while focusing my gun on my would-be
assailant's head.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The hotheaded
warrior stepped into the neon light. She was an asari. Purple-skinned
and wearing some pretty impressive dark blue armor.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Asari captain
Tela Vasir, Council's Special Operations Tactics and Reconnaissance”
she replied.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Blue, we have a
bit of a problem.” Jack declared from a room adjacent.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Oh I'm aware.”
I muttered under my breath.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“I was sent here
to investigate a disturbance. Shots being fired, furniture thrown
out, signs of a struggle.” Tela replied. “Something that you're
actively infringing upon.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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I smiled slightly.
“So you were digging through Feron's unmentionables looking for
evidence about a shooting?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Might have been a
lover's quarrel. Never rule out any possibility.” She replied
quickly.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Seriously, blue,
things just got complicated.” Jack projected again.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah, it did.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Well, at least
you can kill two birds with one stone now, right Tela?” I replied,
holding up my Omni-Tool.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Tela slowly smiled.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, good to
know you still have some common sense after all, Miss T'Som.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yeah...I do.”
Then I shot Tela in the face, her body falling over in a crumpled
pile.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Just in time for
Jack to show up looking utterly shocked.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Variza, what the
fuck!?” she yelled.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“You just killed a
Spectre!” Another voice declared from nearby.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“She was the
Shadow Broker's contact and was looking for information on Feron.
Clearly that means he was on to something. Trust me, I know what I'm
talking abo-” I stopped mid-sentence, the fact that there was now
three people in the room finally registering.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned and saw
Liara T'Soni, wearing a practical flexible white and blue suit of
armor with long coat, holding a pistol to Jack's back.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQW4Qmpf0rS3VViF-4_Z895trBjMHNxZqhApIvjzhaZTWXFePIo_n2neST_Nv3EXMKqVhEWfVlm0ufDn4-GIzevZWVj3c-Ku3g8WPHdnwlbSgAMG4LyZjBoeBQ9NGUE5nDAz-FmYcFgA/s1600/Mass+Effect+Liara+With+Gun.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1276" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQW4Qmpf0rS3VViF-4_Z895trBjMHNxZqhApIvjzhaZTWXFePIo_n2neST_Nv3EXMKqVhEWfVlm0ufDn4-GIzevZWVj3c-Ku3g8WPHdnwlbSgAMG4LyZjBoeBQ9NGUE5nDAz-FmYcFgA/s320/Mass+Effect+Liara+With+Gun.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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“Goddess...you're
making contact with the Shadow Broker as well?” Liara asked. “Wait,
she was working for him? We were looking for Feron because he claimed
to have a contact with a middleman for the Shadow Broker.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Check her
Omni-Tool, chances are you'll find a blocked contact with the info
you need.” I replied casually.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Wait a minute...
Variza?” Liara gasped in recognition, slowly releasing Jack from
captivity.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yeah, it's me.”
I said as I removed Tela's Omni-Tool. I then tossed the Tool to Jack.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“See what you can
do with it, I'm gonna keep searching for signs of Feron.” I
gestured to her.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack gave me a quick
thumbs-up and began to tinker. Which left me and Liara alone...near a
fresh corpse. It's weird how despite being in a new world in the
somewhat distant future I somehow manage to find new levels of
awkward situation.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So...I guess the
Crucible Project is coming along nicely?” I asked while searching
between couch cushions. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Technically it's
a joint venture between the Alliance, the Turian Navy and
representatives of the Quarian Flotilla Fleet, I'm just on hand as
consultant. I've been actually trying to negotiate with some of the
wealthy asari elite to assist in the funding of the project. The
Hephaestus Initiative was just a stopgap after all if you know
anything about quantitative easing.” She rattled off in a clinical
tone.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Wait, isn't that
basically an economic nuclear button?” I replied to her last
statement, looking back in surprise. She didn't seem to get it. “You
know...basically make galactic credits worthless?”
</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Well, the Council
was so swayed by what you and Shepard pulled off at the Citadel they
were willing to deal with something that devastating after they dealt
with the Reapers.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Oh...well
that's...practical of them.” I managed to choke out.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright I got a
big question.” Jack finally interjected, thank you you beautifully
tactless tough girl, “how come I'm the one trying to crack a
Spectre's Omni-Tool when there are literally two centuries-old blue
women with way more experience than me sitting right here!?” She
barked.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good point, Jack.
Variza, you get to work on the Tool, the two of us will search the
rest of Feron's place. Should be a pretty basic code break if she was
planning on getting in contact with the Broker.” Liara mentioned.
Jack chucked the Tool at me with a grin on her face.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah smart ass
get to it.” she added.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah...just
a...simple code break...” I muttered under my breath looking at the
glowing orange tool of floating icons, bits of plastic, and nothing
even remotely looking like a simple DOS screen.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSUfdSgu7Omb5dZhSYA1QklX-xltKADYbvuR7CIeTUa_2_M5ayfKIVW9_ZarAOSRSIf3q7Yen03TH4oP3J0uj6BpkdeXc20JM2-bRV1KdVgV0ShCSlNNFJnpHqut2Vd-4JAwt_q5LiwQ/s1600/Hangover+Math+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="500" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSUfdSgu7Omb5dZhSYA1QklX-xltKADYbvuR7CIeTUa_2_M5ayfKIVW9_ZarAOSRSIf3q7Yen03TH4oP3J0uj6BpkdeXc20JM2-bRV1KdVgV0ShCSlNNFJnpHqut2Vd-4JAwt_q5LiwQ/s320/Hangover+Math+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh sweet cheese and
crackers....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next five
minutes were beyond annoying. Tapping, swiping, poking and prodding
all to no avail, all while Jack and Liara poured over Feron's
penthouse. Then I got a terrible idea as I caught a glimpse of my own
Omni-Tool in my peripheral vision.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't figure out
how to crack Tela's Omni-Tool and dig into her contact info on the
Broker, but I can rip off the tracker on my own Tool and goad the
Broker into calling the Tool himself. Assuming that the tracker
wasn't also keeping tabs on me and the others, which I am slow to
believe since we haven't been utterly swarmed by his personal death
squad the minute I put down Tela, it would be the perfect way to at
least narrow down or even play personal psychology with the Broker
and get information.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But it would also
doom my company to his agenda and leave me with nothing before the
Reapers show up. It was another longshot of a Hail Mary.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it's the best
idea I got.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I think I might
have cracked this guys, anything on your end?” I called out, my
eyes darting back and forth between the Tools.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, we found a
vid chit hidden behind the monitor. Labeled as “Contingency,” so
I think that's worth a watch.” Jack replied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I took a deep
breath. “Alright...I got a way to get some info, but you're not
gonna like it.” I activated a keyboard app on Tela's Tool and
adjusted the audio settings to my armor.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And with a thought
of biotic power I crushed the tracker on my own Tool to scrap.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Within ten seconds,
Tela's Omni-Tool sprang to life, the Shadow Broker's modulated growl
coming from the speaker.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tela Vasir, it
appears that Miss T'Som has chosen poorly. Send your forces to
eliminate her immediately and bring her Omni-Tool to my base. I have
already begun acquiring her company.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I put up a hand to
silence Liara and Jack and began typing into the Tool.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>She is in the
room with me, I'll handle it. Which rendezvous point should I use?</i></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">My
outpost on Hagalaz. I shall forward you our new coordinates for you
to dock safely through the storm. I expect you soon.”</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then
the Tool went silent.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Liara,
planet Hagalaz ring any bells to you?” I replied, cutting off the
audio feedback.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's
a garden world in the Sowlio system I think.” Liara mentions.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Good,
some coordinates are gonna pop up soon, copy them and we got
ourselves a destination.” I said with a smile, tossing her the
orange glowing device.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright,”
Liara commented with a skeptical eyebrow raised. There was a brief
moment of silence, “And what about the red alert message saying
“Dead Switch Activated, Kill on Sight?”</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAW1wbN6R8VgYypjqHrsXmM8eULR1CV-VyVfnThUrqM3AnSKjsNokLfGyIANS8UQq-QSTm3v5ZfGUr6RW-9drTF_FAh6Fw2Ik0GSxfYuLd9VQacrNzTVzhqxovbsrr5F7AWBSbxk87wg/s1600/Ed+Edd+Eddy+To+Be+Continued+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAW1wbN6R8VgYypjqHrsXmM8eULR1CV-VyVfnThUrqM3AnSKjsNokLfGyIANS8UQq-QSTm3v5ZfGUr6RW-9drTF_FAh6Fw2Ik0GSxfYuLd9VQacrNzTVzhqxovbsrr5F7AWBSbxk87wg/s320/Ed+Edd+Eddy+To+Be+Continued+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
didn't even have time to declare “oh shit” before the bullets and
rockets started flying.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-74909272874290099062017-12-18T14:40:00.002-08:002017-12-18T14:40:39.054-08:00My Thoughts on Star Wars: The Last Jedi, The New Trilogy, and Star Wars Fandom
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My fellow
cybertavern patrons, a many Happy Holidays to you, and thank goodness
things are starting to wind down. Multiverse Desperado is chugging
along just fine, Animation Deviation...needs to come out more often,
and as I said before I've begun parlaying my deep dive thoughts on
game industry current events into more professional columns at a
certain website.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In fact I wrote a
<a href="https://thegamefanatics.com/need-start-talking-loot-boxes/">pretty
extensive</a> op ed on the Loot Box controversy surrounding the
reception of EA's Star Wars Battlefront II recently.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which brings us to
what amounts to my rapidfire thoughts on the release of a certain
blockbuster film recently, Rian Johnson's Star Wars Episode VIII: The
Last Jedi.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
First, some
obligatory nerd credential padding. I love Star Wars. It's one of my
favorite sci-fi franchises out there. I love the original trilogy.
I... mostly tolerate certain parts of the prequel trilogy: Darth Maul
is fine, the myth of Darth Plagueus is fine, but midichlorians and
Jar Jar Binks are nails on a chalkboard for example. I love the
Genndy Tartokovsky Clone Wars cartoon, still have the DVDs in fact,
and never finished the “officially canon” CG animated Clone Wars
cartoon but am content that it exists. I've also read my share of the
( now alternative extended universe) of Star Wars novels like the
pretty excellent Darth Bane trilogy, Millenium Falcon, the Legacy of
the Force, and even the truly schlocky nonsense that was Death
Troopers aka What If Star Wars Characters Had To Deal With a Zombie
Outbreak?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also while the new
extended universe has its detractors, I am more or less interested
and fascinated by the direction the franchise is going. The Force
Awakens was basically a reintroduction to the galaxy far far away for
a new generation while respecting what came before, and even splicing
in some meta-commentary about its own fandom in the margins. And
while Rogue One wasn't really a good movie on a basic level, it was a
fantastic representation of why I read some of the more acclaimed
Expanded Universe books: to see a smaller story of a bigger conflict
in all of its pulpy glory.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is something
that I think some of the more long-running fans have forgotten about
when it came to Star Wars' new regime at Disney. A lot of fans have
internalized so much Star Wars mythology as being untouchable and
full of established rules, characters, factions, and conflicts like
an masterwork pocketwatch. But from its entire inception to its
success, it was basically sci-fi schlock with a truly unique
aestheticist behind the wheel and the start of a series that began
the trend of merchandising and toy tie-ins. A character in Return of
the Jedi had to get a fake beard glued on at the last second because
his action figure had a beard for example. In other words, Star Wars
was just as equally about the stories of swashbuckling rogues and
space wizards fighting evil military organizations as well as the
highly lucrative product placements waaaaaayyyy before The Mouse got
a hold of it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnjecM9WMhyphenhyphen1gmr2qoOBN7CRDkPS4-PCKn3-HRZac65bEPO70KpxX4zZW-PRFAoUXCoDFPLNgY04RPJ_51U7524PMtvZgHKUc_fsNRktRk2bKto9hQNV6pt8jgHK9cz72uc5xNWNoAxk/s1600/Star+Wars+Porg+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="800" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnjecM9WMhyphenhyphen1gmr2qoOBN7CRDkPS4-PCKn3-HRZac65bEPO70KpxX4zZW-PRFAoUXCoDFPLNgY04RPJ_51U7524PMtvZgHKUc_fsNRktRk2bKto9hQNV6pt8jgHK9cz72uc5xNWNoAxk/s320/Star+Wars+Porg+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is why a lot
of this expanded mythology is actually kind of bloated,
contradictory, and bizarrely all over the place for a series that has
science so soft and rules so broad it could allow just about
anything. Case in point, early stuff about the imperial Stormtroopers
said they were “manifested hatred of the Emperor himself”
...which then the prequels contradicted by saying they were clone
soldiers. In one expanded universe novel, Bobba Fett was some sort of
lizard man under that suit of armor... then turns out he's just some
guy from a race of badasses that can kill Jedi. As for the Jedi and
The Force itself, they became less like wisemen who were deeply
spiritualistic and tried to preserve life in a passive fashion and
more like DnD wizards. Congratulations, you have the Force, as long
as you stay “Light-Side” aligned you can manipulate people, use
telekinesis, run super fast, and eventually get more grab bag
abilities.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Following through on the DnD comparisons, this
super-power focused mystic steroid that became the expanded universe
Jedi eventually eclipsed and overwhelmed anything remotely
interesting that could be done in any capacity. If you weren't a Jedi
in a Star Wars story, you were immediately a supporting character
with barely anything to do with very rare exceptions. But if you
weren't a Skywalker or a Solo, you were the B-Plot at best. For a
religious order that promotes being passive and attempt to be
mediators, it seems just strange seeing them assist in black ops
raids for the New Republic or being treated as espionage operatives
while also glorifying some sort of Skywalker bloodline heritage of
Super Jedi.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But after a couple
decades, the fandom, myself included, internalized these elements and
accepted there was enough rationales to twist and change these
elements into the forms they are now.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then...I saw The
Force Awakens and The Last Jedi. The latter of which actually made me
hostile at first because of how much of this internalized
presumptions about this universe were either subverted or harshly
refuted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't worry I'll get
to my thoughts on the actual hot topic of the moment but I do want to
clear the air when it comes to The Force Awakens' storytelling tricks
and JJ Abrams' Mystery Box gambit since both movies are quite
intertwined.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51u9rHJG9f5SuH1RitsPvxLlrxMYG8CJBVlLflsP6tuSqPP9GOKUnnTQMznSK8rmnGuTFS-Iv2167jIs3aq0kpETDkzPhhWOmgscVrx0_YGy3rBgfay_X9pI_YTg1wfTAPZkaC-Mwm10/s1600/Star+Wars+Kylo+Ren+Lightsaber+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="500" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51u9rHJG9f5SuH1RitsPvxLlrxMYG8CJBVlLflsP6tuSqPP9GOKUnnTQMznSK8rmnGuTFS-Iv2167jIs3aq0kpETDkzPhhWOmgscVrx0_YGy3rBgfay_X9pI_YTg1wfTAPZkaC-Mwm10/s320/Star+Wars+Kylo+Ren+Lightsaber+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I said before, I
did enjoy The Force Awakens. I love the new leads, Finn is just
amazing and Poe Dameron is slowly becoming one of my favorite ace
pilot characters. The First Order being a bunch of crazy Imperial
loyalists who want to bring the galaxy back into order by reinstating
a new regime after lots of galactic turbulence makes a scary amount
of sense in broad terms. Kylo Ren is a much different type of
villain, the overly emotional insecure manchild with a hatred for
change compared to his more ominous and in control commander of the
Dark Side that was his grandfather. There was genuinely a lot to love
in this movie.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
However, JJ Abrams
has a terrible terrible habit that he became famous for when he was a
producer on Lost back in the day, The Mystery Box.
Looking back at The Force Awakens, there was plenty of instances
where Abrams was pulling this gambit: to set up a mystery full of
intrigue and suspense and inviting you to come up with ideas as to
how that can turn out. Who is Supreme Leader Snoke? Was he trained by
Palpatine? How did he become a Dark Side Master without anyone
finding out? Who are the Knights of Ren? Are they similar to the
Sith? How did Maz Kanada get Luke's original lightsaber? Who are
Rey's parents? Abrams made a big deal about her past and her
connection to the Force so clearly that's building up to something
big!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The problem with
this Mystery Box style though is that no matter what you ultimately
reveal, it will never be as fulfilling as what others have brought to
the table. The Force Awakens has been out for two years, and nerd
culture-powered social media did what it did best with fan theories,
crazy ass conspiracy nonsense, and using tentative logic since the
new Disney canon has cherry picked several elements and characters
from the older books like Darth Bane and Admiral Thrawn to justify
stuff from the books and extended media they liked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaR7K6PQxQCVtxdrdsg6s6DHkIuMKcG7UxZxgy0QhTLKHMlX-9hmgMQFD8Jf3MJuZFFLptw-mPCzISNFHqffdU-tLYWIIq3fbaWumfQdi-DVVc0FdRtNj39Qke13l1wOYtzql2k-gXww/s1600/Always+Sunny+Conspiracy+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="648" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaR7K6PQxQCVtxdrdsg6s6DHkIuMKcG7UxZxgy0QhTLKHMlX-9hmgMQFD8Jf3MJuZFFLptw-mPCzISNFHqffdU-tLYWIIq3fbaWumfQdi-DVVc0FdRtNj39Qke13l1wOYtzql2k-gXww/s320/Always+Sunny+Conspiracy+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then The Last Jedi
shows up to theaters and practically takes a swerve on every single
non-mystery Abrams had set up, practically slapping this hard work in
the face. In many ways Rian Johnson managed to make a Star Wars movie
that still feels like Star Wars, exciting dogfights, lightsaber
battles, big operatic acts of heroism and the recurring themes of
hope and resistance in the face of great hardship, while also
deconstructing or even subverting elements of it that fans have grown
fond of or desperately wanted something more from.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are some minor
spoilers for the movie ahead but don't worry, I won't give away major parts.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The biggest case and
point is The Force Awakens ends with Rey reaching Luke Skywalker on
an island on some distant planet and she hands him his old
lightsaber. The music swells, his face is full of emotion, Rey is
clearly waiting for some grand uplifting sense of finality or purpose
in finding the map that lead to him thinking he was looking for some
ancient secrets that might help defeat the First Order.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When The Last Jedi
returns to this exchange Luke takes the lightsaber...then throws it
over his shoulder off a cliff and leaves Rey confused, acting more
like a broken curmudgeonly war veteran that had seen too much and
goes back to his home.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Abrams' big Mystery
Box nonsense involving Luke looking for the origin of the Jedi Order
and leaving a map for someone to find him falls apart to complete
subterfuge for its own sake with the direction Rian Johnson takes.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0B46jq3oTn-zKV4CtJskDAw_KIXJZvLPTXzwGhLbD3L2KVActrDg-nFHu4QomPe7l2gkrdFQEkZttIPWEXqrA16IqdczFXu95ji6p73_9CEO3u8T1Otd81XZR3Cb8zLbnDLdGKAcKW8/s1600/Confused+James+Franco+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="304" data-original-width="575" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0B46jq3oTn-zKV4CtJskDAw_KIXJZvLPTXzwGhLbD3L2KVActrDg-nFHu4QomPe7l2gkrdFQEkZttIPWEXqrA16IqdczFXu95ji6p73_9CEO3u8T1Otd81XZR3Cb8zLbnDLdGKAcKW8/s320/Confused+James+Franco+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And this happens
multiple times throughout the film. Supreme Leader Snoke was built up
as next-generation Darth Sidious in The Force Awakens, only for his
role in The Last Jedi to be one of misdirection.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As for the big
mystery surrounding the new generation Jedi-in-Training Rey? Once
again, the reveal is exactly what people weren't expecting and it has
lead to outrage.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is why I
actually had a pretty adverse reaction to this movie at first. As
much as I'm too used to Abrams' insufferable Mystery Box schtick, it
is still a tool used way too effectively for its own good. But what
Rian Johnson brings to the franchise is a pretty harsh look at the
conflicts of Star Wars, the nature of the Force, and even the dangers
of idol worship, de-mystifying some of the glory of the past movies.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a reminder, Star
Wars started as, and for many retains its inherent charm, by being a
simple swashbuckling laser blasting space opera. Queue the heresy
alarms.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxC9h3eNYHFJN0xWn-CKIvltCUjYR1fZUNIWm17dnxdglXM0zeSHfuDJcpYMOCEedxG7BIQPq5tGyH3SJpYS1AxtqNop6b4Gfq0jpxGc5AtkoQmhTBW7cS378Ec552x_dThcFNivgSpm0/s1600/Warhammer+40k+Heresy+Detected+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="400" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxC9h3eNYHFJN0xWn-CKIvltCUjYR1fZUNIWm17dnxdglXM0zeSHfuDJcpYMOCEedxG7BIQPq5tGyH3SJpYS1AxtqNop6b4Gfq0jpxGc5AtkoQmhTBW7cS378Ec552x_dThcFNivgSpm0/s320/Warhammer+40k+Heresy+Detected+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as time has
passed I have begun to accept and even embrace the bold directions
The Last Jedi takes the franchise in. Some ways are ones I wished
happened a long time ago such as letting conflict be driven more by
characters, their strengths as well as their faults, rather than
everything be dictated by simple adherence to rationalizations and
logic; something that too many in nerd circles fetishize to a creepy
degree. A recurring theme of learning from your failures while
understanding that not everything will always belong to you. All of
this stuff is fantastic and surprisingly mature coming from a Star
Wars movie.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
However, what many
of the more vocal fans have been going on about has been how parts of
the movie don't make any “logical” sense, and some of it does hold some weight. There's a lot of weird
creative license when it comes to cinematic time and travel scale. A
lot of logistical stuff like how The First Order militarized so
quickly to pose a threat to the Republic is basically never fully
explained which makes one of the central conflicts of the movie one
hell of a stretch, the list goes on.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now I'm not gonna
call The Last Jedi a perfect movie. There are some legit structural
problems in the second act that makes everything feel out of whack
and works against what should be an intense ticking clock conflict
and there are few scenes that could have been cut for time. But I am
willing to offer a big counterargument to the Star Wars fans
demanding answers and clarity and explanation to all of
these details.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Explain to me the
details about Han Solo's boasting about The Kessel Run.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0ZcHRdoKrzdQeEVsfYCTfOzM00ivlh4MTUNEhw86dqVZsFnsFgBXBKzYgqFKYAp1u7U-8lSB3J7FjM16Kxfrn7rnYJjO7awkaRw15kYfTRXBXB2aIbGBjsKunRhfN4e-jK2t2ipl5-0/s1600/Han+Solo+what+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0ZcHRdoKrzdQeEVsfYCTfOzM00ivlh4MTUNEhw86dqVZsFnsFgBXBKzYgqFKYAp1u7U-8lSB3J7FjM16Kxfrn7rnYJjO7awkaRw15kYfTRXBXB2aIbGBjsKunRhfN4e-jK2t2ipl5-0/s320/Han+Solo+what+gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a prominent
line he uses in A New Hope and the cast treats it as a huge deal but
it's never fully explained. Guess what? Multiple books tried to
explain this idea and not a lot of them stuck. One book wrote that
The Kessel Run was basically the spaceship equivalent of rum-running
during the Prohibition era where your Run was determined by how fast
you were able to lose the authorities. Oh wait, no it's a run you
make towards Kessel while trying to find the shortest route and Han
did some sick flying maneuvers with The Falcon skirting past black
holes to shave off some distance. Oh wait, turns out The Kessel Run
was an elaborate ruse by Han for him to bolster his credentials as a
smuggler.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All of those are
logical, but the very line itself on its very surface reads as wrong.
Ask any pedantic jerkface and they'll say 'parsecs are a measure of
distance, not time, so that says nothing about what the Kessel Run
is.” I should know, I was one of them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So this immediate
anger towards similar slip-ups in the new movies seems greatly
misplaced, almost reading like a form of elitist gatekeeping. Hanging
on desperately to a history and only remembering the good stuff while
ignoring the stuff that was more problematic.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I mentioned
before, the “Legends” continuity of Star Wars will forever hold a
place in my heart, but everything I have been seen at this point from
Johnson, and to a lesser extent Abrams, makes me beyond interested in
the new direction they have made by breaking multiple conventions
holding the series back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And yes, that is
quite frightening, but it is also exciting at the same time.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-38823547770307598032017-12-07T15:32:00.000-08:002017-12-07T15:32:41.635-08:00Multiverse Desperado: A Jumpchain Fiction Chapter 21<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 21: Grudge of the Shadow Broker</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's okay...
breathe.” Sha'ira said calmly, holding my hands as they tensed up.
So I did. In through the nose, counted to seven, then exhaled for an
eight count. It was after the third deep breath I was finally able to
relax.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So now you
know...” I replied, the words coming out more bitter than I wanted.
My entire body released itself of tension as I closed my eyes,
feeling only the warmth of her lap on the back of my head and her
hand in mine, the sound cancellation of her pod making it feel as if
there was only me and this other asari in the entire universe. Of
course I wound up telling her everything. My nature as a Jumper, the
stress of Shepard's mission, what Morinth had done to me, and my most
recent brush with death with Kasumi.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Believe me or
not, that's up to you. But it's the truth.” I finally exhaled,
breaking the silence that felt as thick as black smoke.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sha'ira simply put a
hand on my forehead. “Have you told anyone else?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Aside from Dr.
Dren...just one other.” I hesitated to name Commander Shepard, but
something tells me she knew already.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, that
explains a lot then.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked up at her
with an eyebrow raised.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You are so closed
off that no one is willing to fully trust you. You claim to be what
you are but you act like it's something to be ashamed of.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sha'ira, of all
the fantastic things that happens in the galaxy, claiming to be a
pan-dimensional traveler in an asari skinsuit still sounds like
something that would put you in the psych ward.” I retorted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And why exactly
are you so worried about being seen like that? From the way you
talked about Jack, she managed to get her life around and make a
living for herself despite having a past far more traumatic and harsh
than yours.”
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slowly got up and
crossed my arms. She had a point.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The only reason
why I kept it to myself is because I needed people to trust me, so
that when I said I was here to help, they'd believe me.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And now you're
the head of a major corporation leading the front in weapons
development with a staff that clearly respects you and you've
publicly been seen aiding the Alliance, the Council, and the
Spectres.” She place a hand on my shoulder. “What exactly is
keeping you from opening up now?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My session with
Sha'ira ended the same as before. With her reading my future, once
again claiming it was uncertain and murky despite seeing nothing but
the greatest of adversity. Whether or not this was due to me being a
Jumper was a thought I tried not to entertain. I donned my quick
disguise, complete with a face-concealing mask, and made my way out
of the Citadel and made my way back to my shuttle via my Warehouse.
After the attack by those vorcha agents on Omega and the Shadow
Broker gunning for me with Morinth, I did my best not to stay in one
place for long, much to the chagrin of the company's board of
directors. I've been applying pressure to Cerberus with my weapon
dealing, one of most dangerous information brokers in the galaxy
wants my secrets, and for whatever reason, the Reapers were sending
out resources of their own to tear me apart in addition to their mass
human colony abduction through the Collectors.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sha'ira was right. I
needed some serious confidants and fast if I was going to survive.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I asked my pilot
to take me to Grissom Academy to check up on Jack.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqW9-v_0UyTJsLDbHinqhzQ1SRBVWESPHiN7cs52zek4jEPjS8FAghlKYKQFCIVgyOR9DpB9uJ_0md2ikH0fhQOgP66mEAhNHqQAE6jmAmnY4BU9ucOOZYTVWU6GR1kJ1hryigB_RZJrY/s1600/Mass+Effect+Grissom+Academy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqW9-v_0UyTJsLDbHinqhzQ1SRBVWESPHiN7cs52zek4jEPjS8FAghlKYKQFCIVgyOR9DpB9uJ_0md2ikH0fhQOgP66mEAhNHqQAE6jmAmnY4BU9ucOOZYTVWU6GR1kJ1hryigB_RZJrY/s320/Mass+Effect+Grissom+Academy.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the surface, the
space station that is the Academy is a prestigious place of higher
learning for gifted intelligence. Math, Science, Liberal Arts. It's
like Harvard or Cambridge in space. But it's also home to the
Ascension Project, a dedicated program to help those with biotic
power to hone their skills. Not exclusively a military program
either. If someone was born with biotic power and just wanted to
learn control, the doors were open if they knew the right people.
Still feels weird knowing that someone as aggressive as Jack teaches
there now.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After docking I told
my pilot to stay with the ship and stepped in to the atrium. A
security guard stopped me and asked what my business was. I simply
told him I was here to see Jack and that I was an old friend, keeping
my disguise up. To my delight, he accepted that and let me pass.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A few long hall ways
littered with some teen and young adult students later and I made my
way to the training yard...</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
… just in time to
dodge someone being flung bodily at the wall. Human woman from the
looks of it with short red hair. Before I could even check to see if
she was okay, she simply got up, dusted herself off and declared,
“That was awesome!” to the rest of the class.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And of course in the
center of the yard was Jack, her arms crossed with a smirk on her
face; probably because she was the one who chucked redhead across the
room. Her hair was still growing out but was now in a decent
ponytail, her outfit notably more conservative than her street tattoo
tough girl appearance, I couldn't help but smile at how comfortable
she looked in the role.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JHh2OqMof-7edlUDpHvBXD_rZSdi7pLLXMrEsv-O_CJs2_m3aQvKK8Fahl26gfKDQipblNM-WZnBBVtcnckRF3W-xmRe11NABp9-DV_sJ0nZKSIkiN_VjukAk09T1R_21vqK_8KgeGk/s1600/Mass+Effect+Casual+Jack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="850" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JHh2OqMof-7edlUDpHvBXD_rZSdi7pLLXMrEsv-O_CJs2_m3aQvKK8Fahl26gfKDQipblNM-WZnBBVtcnckRF3W-xmRe11NABp9-DV_sJ0nZKSIkiN_VjukAk09T1R_21vqK_8KgeGk/s320/Mass+Effect+Casual+Jack.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She saw me approach
the class, “Alright, what exactly is so urgent that you couldn't
wait for our training exercise to conclude?” she growled, her hands
already glowing blue with biotic wrath.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pulled off my
disguise of wraps and contact lenses. “Can't an old friend show up
out of nowhere and see how they're doing?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza!?” She
yelled in surprise. “What the eff are you doing here!?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I heard whispers
among the students. “Variza? That Variza? The one who fought with
Jack on Shepard's crew?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wondering when
exactly you started watching your language for one, and wanting to
talk to you about something personal and important for two.” I
snapped a glance to the students. It was a good mix of anxious
excitement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack turned to her
students and made several quick gestures to them. They began breaking
up into pairs and seemed to go through some basic drills. She turned
to me and stuck a thumb over to a small room to my left.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The room was an
unused classroom with windows looking into the yard. When I stepped
in Jack was facing me, but was also clearly keeping an eye on the
students in the yard.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright blue,
what's this about?” her tone was neutral, but her stare was
piercing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I cleared my throat
and tried to speak. Then a lump got there. Dammit.
“Well..I...remember when-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It's been close
to a month since you and I last talked and I still haven't heard
squat about the Reapers or what Shepard is up to, and you decide to
show up looking like some weird homeless person crashing my class. So
unless you got in bad with gangsters or whatever or you're about to
let me in on some Reaper busting operation in the next two minutes
I'm gonna chuck you out an airlock.”
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My Omni-Tool started
beeping with an incoming message. I sent it to voicemail.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well Jack. That's
the thing. I haven't exactly been honest with you. You see, I've been
doing some jobs for Shepard dealing with the human colony
disappearances.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack shot me a dirty
look of betrayal.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh come on,
you've been doing covert ops for the Alliance on the side too, don't
give me that.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah, but every
time those colonies are brought up the Alliance pulls rank and tells
me to forget about it. Which means someone hasn't let me in on what
Shepard's been doing.” She took two hostile steps towards me. “I
thought we were friends, Variza.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My Omni-Tool beeped
again. I simply deactivated it in frustration. “We are, Jack. Which
is exactly why this bullheaded act isn't working on me. You wanna
know why I haven't told you? The night Shepard told me about the
operation, an Ardat-Yakshi tried to assassinate me in my own home. I
had to avoid any and all communications that might have given me away
while going into the Terminus Systems to recruit a manic scientist
and a master thief which involved escaping augmented death troopers
and pulling off a major heist under the nose of an arms dealer and an
unhinged human supremacist that clearly sees me and my weapons
company as a giant black eye to 'his people.'<br /><br />“So yes, Jack.
After getting patched up, speaking to my therapist, covering my
tracks and handling a bunch of crazies, I'm now finding the time to
clue you in because I still respect you as a friend. So how about you
stop foaming at the mouth about Reapers for ten seconds and let me
say what I have to say?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't realize
that I took some steps on Jack, calling her bluff. She was now
leaning pack, practically sitting on the desk behind her, her
expression pensive.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright Variza,
alright. Jesus.” she gasped as I slowly backed off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then my Omni-Tool
activated on its own and began broadcasting audio.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Variza T'Som.
This is the Shadow Broker.” The voice modulated into an unnatural
deep timbre.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How in the-?” I
began. I re-wired my Tool to stay off the Extranet, keeping it analog
to avoid something like this. Then I found something on the bottom of
the Tool. A small black disc attached to it, and by extension the
bottom of my right forearm. It turned my blood into liquid nitrogen.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As you may have
noticed by now, one of my agents has managed to bug your Tool so we
can have this conversation. You might be trying to be off the
grid...but I have eyes everywhere.” I gulped nervously at the
emphasis on that last phrase. “You managed to survive the assassin
I sent after you, and for that you have a small modicum of my
respect. And for that I shall give you a choice in how to handle my
offer. You have three days to give up your secret weapon development
project research to one of my agents on the asari world of Illium. Do
this and I shall allow you to live as a figurehead for the company.
You will live and I shall simply take a percentage of your annual
earnings from your account. You try to remove that disc or refuse,
and I shall simply buy the controlling share of the stocks through my
intermediaries and take these secrets myself, voting you out and
ending your life to cover my tracks. The choice is your Miss T'Som.
The clock is ticking, and I will be watching.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The silence
following the message clicking off was so sudden you could hear a pin
drop.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, what the
fuck did you step into?” Jack blurted out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Remember that
Ardat-Yakshi that almost killed me? She worked for him....”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sweet fucking
Christ, Variza....”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The ride out of
Grissom Academy went by in a haze. I had Jack fly, though I did have
to talk her out of killing the pilot for possibly working for the
Broker. It literally could have been anyone on the Citadel or Grissom
Academy to tag my Tool and I didn't want to work on maybes if I was
going to kill someone.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Other than that one
altercation my mind was racing, trying to figure out how to stop this
deal with the Shadow Broker. There was no way I could exploit a
loophole, when someone with his kind of power delivers an ultimatum
you have to be able to match him in case it goes wrong and I...
can't. At the same time if the Broker got my weapon plans he could
sell it to just about anyone, possibly even the Collectors as they've
been known to make discrete deals for advanced technology on the
fringes of the Milky Way – which would make my entire breakneck
arms race against the Reapers pointless. So it looked like I only had
one option....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I would have to find
and stop the Shadow Broker himself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHqX9X-xXNwtkrD-4P2eGNs-iqNmTdfdhyphenhyphen3FiDK4Bx7Pc2y9pLLDFBf9HRVSy6d3skeQRwG8PWUW9vM0uHTO3L6tCrsqyeSV5WsCrg9Ych8jdeFJ9ruJTtepxrrIT54MscYr0867H4s8s/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Secret+Quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHqX9X-xXNwtkrD-4P2eGNs-iqNmTdfdhyphenhyphen3FiDK4Bx7Pc2y9pLLDFBf9HRVSy6d3skeQRwG8PWUW9vM0uHTO3L6tCrsqyeSV5WsCrg9Ych8jdeFJ9ruJTtepxrrIT54MscYr0867H4s8s/s320/Mass+Effect+Shadow+Broker+Secret+Quote.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I lost ten
years off my asari lifespan realizing that I may have doomed myself
already. The only way anyone was able to pin down the Shadow Broker's
base of operations, a space station on some turbulent gas giant, was
through a large collection of small but significant circumstances
involving an info trafficker named Feron, and a certain information
broker on Illium, including them fighting off attempts by the
Collectors to abduct Commander Shepard's corpse six months after the
Battle of the Citadel.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Except that Shepard
never died. And that information broker as far as I know is too busy
coordinating the construction of the Crucible Project. Which means
Feron might as well be in another dimension as far as me being able
to contact him. And even if I could remember what planet the Broker's
base is on, the atmosphere is so violent any ship sent would be torn
to shreds. Not to mention the issue of precise coordinates.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But Feron's the
closest thing to a lead I have.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Jack, we need to
head to Illium.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Like hell we are,
blue!” Jack snapped back from the cockpit.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm not-” I
stopped myself and looked at the tracker on my Omni-Tool. Was it
bugged? Was he listening? I don't know, and I can't remove it to find
out. I shook my head. “We need information. Illium is the info
broker capital of the galaxy. And I have an idea as to who to talk
to.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How?” She said
sharply.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Crap. Think of
something, smart guy!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have some
contacts over there from the bean counters regarding long-term
investments and...corporate synergy.” I muttered. Dammit Weird Al!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Huh. Makes sense
I guess.” Jack replied with an implicit shrug.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Smooth, real smooth.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack guided the
shuttle to closest Mass Relay and we were on our way to the asari
world with only a flimsy possible lead to ending one of the most
dangerous forces in the galaxy.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-56236284847712580402017-11-28T16:57:00.000-08:002017-11-28T16:57:09.786-08:00Animation Deviation: Holy Crap Hey Arnold The Jungle Movie Rocked!
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah, read the
title. I got nothing more to add.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hey Arnold is yet
another beloved animated show from the 1990s that I remember fondly
for all the right reasons. It was a low-key animated show that was
more about the goings on of Arnold and his classmates at P.S. 118 in
the big city primarily focusing around character interaction and the
mundane trials of childhood as well as general antics of urban
adventure like investigating urban legends The kind of show that
could have wacky characters, then dedicate an entire episode to why
they are that way and make a compelling fifteen minute drama out of
it. Episodes focusing around Chocolate Boy, The Pigeon Man, and the
infamously poignant “Helga on the Couch” are great examples of
this.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But after a
respectable five season run on Nickelodeon, and a big-budget
theatrical film release that many fans write off as being non-canon
due to it being forgettable and a notable behind-the-scenes nightmare
for show creator Craig Bartlett, the show concluded in 2004.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And if this was any
other show that would be it. Except this was a show on Nickelodeon
for one. Just about every major show they had got a finale, be it a
final episode or a TV movie that ends things on a high note. The
Rugrats cartoon got several animated film adaptations and an
unofficial series finale with the All Grown Up special...which then
spawned the spin-off All Grown Up. Fans don't talk about it. Doug got
a final episode where the character graduated high school, ending
things on a high note until Disney bought the show and ran it into
the ground. The list goes on.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Second of all, the
final episodes of the show hinted at a larger finale, which is
strange to type out since the show's appeal was its mellow and mild
atmosphere and simple urban location. After basically five seasons of
seeing the antics of Arnold living with his grandparents in a
boarding house full of eccentric personalities getting into
adventures with his friends, dealing with bullies, and being an
active member of his community, it was revealed that his parents were
actually good-hearted philanthropic adventurers that continually
traveled to South America, and vanished on one last trip to assist
the natives, the Green Eye People. The final episode of the show
ended with Arnold finding his father's journal, and hidden inside was
a map, which could lead him to where his parents ventured off to.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And the movie that
was supposed to resolve one of the biggest mysteries show, give
closure to multiple threads including the running gag of Arnold's
last name, supporting character Helga Pataki finally getting around
to confessing her love for him never got made.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But after thirteen
years, Craig Bartlett finally made it happen this Thanksgiving
Weekend with Hey Arnold The Jungle Movie.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSOX7b4ExKvD_DCXhrWm7S2IwX5IEpIvqD4Pbi-vvVm-Y52YQsEJFsJgkAqJPi_TtyiED5Sy4Mg1yRg8HSn7oREDzei7Ssvk7NIV01hwwjPzZox1wQrwsXFzwOQb-xlWDsfXZNLgABoU/s1600/Hey+Arnold+The+Jungle+Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="1600" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSOX7b4ExKvD_DCXhrWm7S2IwX5IEpIvqD4Pbi-vvVm-Y52YQsEJFsJgkAqJPi_TtyiED5Sy4Mg1yRg8HSn7oREDzei7Ssvk7NIV01hwwjPzZox1wQrwsXFzwOQb-xlWDsfXZNLgABoU/s320/Hey+Arnold+The+Jungle+Movie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And man oh man was
it so completely worth it!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I honestly can't
believe this movie got made, even now after writing this it feels
like a dream, and it reads exactly like the kind of film Craig
Bartlett wrote down thirteen years ago and finally brought it out of
mothballs.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But yes, a brief
plot summary for the sake of formality. After discovering the map in
his father's journal, Arnold has been pouring over the details,
trying to find out what caused them to mysteriously vanish, even
having intense nightmares about him traveling to the country of San
Lorenzo and it making turns for the worst.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But then the plot
kicks into high gear when his teacher Mr. Simmons reveals a contest
where the most selfless and charitable student who submits a video
presentation of their community service can win a class-wide field
trip to San Lorenzo and meet the local relief organization there.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And without missing
a beat, Arnold works on a project with his friend Gerald to make a
home for the local weird “yet endearingly sweet” Monkey Man...and
it blows up in their face.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then about three
minutes later, Helga Pataki, the brash tomboy who has been in love
with the football-headed protagonist from episode one, to an almost
stalkerish level due to some clearly subtextual issues in her home
life.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sidebar: The “Helga
on the Couch” episode where we got a refreshingly healthy look into
this family dynamic and probably the only example of a therapist on a
show in a positive light helping Helga deal with this developmental
stage of her life was basically downplayed by Nickelodeon because of
stupid “think of the children” reasons, to the extent that a
planned spin-off “Hey Helga” was basically dead in the water. No
real context for that, just pissed that that show never got made.
Bartlett, talk to Adult Swim.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyway, she reveals
that every single good deed Arnold ever performed throughout five
seasons of the show are on tape. She recorded and kept records of
them in a hidden room. A little editing later, and the video
submission, basically a giant montage of some of the high points of
the show, was complete. And for the record, there was plenty of
material to choose from. Everything from cleaning up a vacant lot and
turning it into a baseball field, helping an old singer find a second
wind in his career, helping a retired baseball player remember his
love of the game and opening a sports-themed hot dog restaurant,
helping several unusual or socially anxious members of his city
spread their wings and reach out to other people, mediating and
ending a teacher's strike at his school, getting the entire community
to work together to get into the Guinness Book of World Records,
helping one of the residents of his boarding house re-unite with his
daughter who he hasn't seen in decades due to being separated by a
war in his home country on Christmas, and accidentally breaking up a
counterfeit penny operation while investigating local caverns for
proof of a local urban legend.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My god, he's done so
much for still being in elementary school....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1W88yoUTBSOBgEpqKuY9eR4Vr9Eknd-rWrmBOdi8LOiuxfcBHHnOmpN5n2O-Q2yMER-f1Ic05-m7mAhZY1SBJCrS7K44SjvQdNYX1z63CXMPTkQM1IWGkl7zCTW5e997LC9WA4ietg-0/s1600/Hey+Arnold+Helga+Reaction+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="215" data-original-width="540" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1W88yoUTBSOBgEpqKuY9eR4Vr9Eknd-rWrmBOdi8LOiuxfcBHHnOmpN5n2O-Q2yMER-f1Ic05-m7mAhZY1SBJCrS7K44SjvQdNYX1z63CXMPTkQM1IWGkl7zCTW5e997LC9WA4ietg-0/s320/Hey+Arnold+Helga+Reaction+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So naturally he won
the contest and we are off to San Lorenzo!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And from there, the
movie basically turns into a kid-friendly adventure story with hidden
civilizations, complex puzzles and death traps that wouldn't be out
of place in an obstacle course in<i> Legends of the Hidden Temple</i>,
and a major villain in the form of an evil river pirate known as La
Sombra. Slapstick and ingenius tinkering and puzzle-solving abounds,
and we finally get some big moments that have been almost two decades
in the making. Helga confessing her love for Arnold, the true final
fate of his parents, and a definitive end to the series that honestly
brought a tear to my eyes.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Seriously, that's
it. I really have nothing more to say.... Alright there are a few
minor elements that did concern me. Watch out, not only are these
spoilers, but it's also a format more of less stolen from Josh
Loomis' blog, Blue Ink Alchemy.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Stuff I Loved</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKz7LtEq308QOLOVy8lcVC18OkLWl6paOHDo6dr58fSbmU8LXNsVyWBqQqI70buuUMIxRejkLAoYmG9zcNKZPriGKlI46pzySMzct_U75ZiR8cUF3mOhgfSrvMbiNZSVvgEOC4ZJOdJ8/s1600/Hey+Arnold+TJM+Reveal+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="540" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKz7LtEq308QOLOVy8lcVC18OkLWl6paOHDo6dr58fSbmU8LXNsVyWBqQqI70buuUMIxRejkLAoYmG9zcNKZPriGKlI46pzySMzct_U75ZiR8cUF3mOhgfSrvMbiNZSVvgEOC4ZJOdJ8/s320/Hey+Arnold+TJM+Reveal+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The reveal of Arnold's Last Name. What started off as a weird
running gag throughout the show slowly turned into a freaking
conspiracy among the fan base. And when it was finally revealed, it
lands as both fitting and as the punchline to the longest brick joke
in animated television history. Seriously, I was in stitches for
five minutes straight while clapping triumphantly.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Ending. Despite multiple areas where the story could have gone
off the rails, it kept things grounded and reasonable, which is
tricky considering this is a show that basically confirmed that
ghosts exist and are scary as hell.
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The villain La Sombra. He was a legitimate threat for the movie. He
had thugs, he had an agenda, and he was pretty terrifying. We get
some heavily implied off screen deaths at his hand which, for a kids
movie, is pretty scary.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Helga's Confession going exactly as I wanted it to. Yes, it was
cheesy but screw it, this show has more than earned this moment of
earnest emotional resonance.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Stuff I Liked</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The
entire cast retaining their personality. Hey Arnold The Jungle Movie
basically dragged along the entire supporting cast with characters
like Rhonda, Nadine, Curly, Harold, and Eugene along for the ride,
and as easy as it was for them to just fade in the background, if
they didn't contribute to the plot, their shear quirky traits still
gave levity to what could have been a much darker and scarier
experience. Even if it can be argued that these personalities are
more like informed characteristics, it is the way in which their
notes are hidden that count.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">The
new art style. Obviously computer-generated animation has overtaken
hand-drawn animation and I will miss the old look, but the new
visual style is handled decently enough that I was able to tolerate
it.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Stuff I Didn't
Like</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<ul>
<li><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What Year Is
It? Seriously. The show ended in 2004 and in terms of time jumps
it's implied to be one year after the last episode aired. Several
characters even look slightly aged up. Yet Rhonda is running around
with a camera phone. There's also a kind of funny substory about
Helga's father's Beeper Company basically closing down from
basically going obsolete, and a throwaway joke about a wi-fi
password. But if the timeline of the actual show is to go by, phone
booths and LAN line telephones with spiral chords were still in
prominent use. It's downplayed over all but it is still jarring to
see, almost reading like a studio bullet point to appeal to modern
kids.</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That's about it.
Seriously, if you loved Hey Arnold, track down this movie on Nick's
streaming app or on your cable provider's catch-up service. It is
totally worth it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now where the hell
is that piece on .hack//SIGN I kept saying I was going to write....</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-14788576944703650512017-11-08T23:22:00.000-08:002017-11-08T23:22:01.691-08:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 20
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i> Writer's Note: This particular chapter is basically two chapters smashed together in celebration of N7 Day and to double up on the missed deadline of last month's Multiverse Desperado. Enjoy!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 20: One Last
Heist</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The planet
Bekenstein is a particular accomplishment for the human race. It has
been compared to be on par with the asari industrial paradise of
Illium due to its grand luxury goods production. Every major
installation in the galaxy wanted their product, even the Citadel. It
has since evolved into a resort of opulence for humanity's wealthy
elite, where they indulge in excess and pay no mind to beings of
lower stature. More glittering than diamonds, and more expensive than
surgery.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And Kasumi and I
were getting ready to rob the suckers blind.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our shuttle was
rocketing through FTL space, en route to the party being held on the
jewel of a planet, us touching up our make-up and adjusting our dress
the entire way.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What is the
optimal way to deal with targets in our way until we get into the
vault?” I asked while applying onyx black lip gloss.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Make it look like
an accident and make sure you're alone. Bekenstein has a high suicide
rate due to local inflation for standards of living cost and high job
stress. But due to me not having a full layout for security patrols
and camera placement, let's err on the side of caution.” Kasumi
replied, adjusting some tasteful earrings and checking her trimmed
but lightly decorated nails.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Right,” I
casually opened a pocket mirror and started applying eye shadow and
blush. “Our cover just so I remember is that I am visiting
Bekenstein in the hopes of establishing some sort of joint venture
with our mark, some kind of elite security equipment for the fat cats
worried about assassination or uprisings. And you will be...” my
voice trailed off, my mind drawing a blank, flickering to other
minute details about the plan like windows of opportunity and the
logistics of getting our gear through security hoping that would fill
it in.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am a simple
nobody who you've brought on hand as eye candy and a symbol of your
dominance for appearances' sake. People in the Bek pride themselves
on having power over others by being smarter or quicker than most.”
She closed my pocket mirror and planted a kiss on my lips, her hand
going to my thigh. I felt a shiver shoot through my body as her lips
touched mine, her warm body pressing against my dress. I clamped down
on the impulse to punch her in the throat, thanks a lot Morinth, and
tried to relax. But I did feel my hand push back on Kasumi's
shoulder, breaking the kiss. I took a moment to compose myself.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Considering the
nature of what we're trying to lift from Donovan Hock's vault don't
you think that's a little inappropriate?” I gasped.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh, I haven't
forgotten, but appearances are everything. And some smudged lipstick
says a lot with no words wouldn't you say?” She replied with a sly
wink, leaning back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to reel back
in my lizard brain on wanting to “make the illusion more genuine”
so I turned to look out the space port, streaks of blue across a
canvas of black greeted me as we maintained FTL, and took some deep
breaths. Maybe I should get Dr. Lissandre on the horn ASAP....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So getting our
weapons and armor through security?” Kasumi replied, breaking the
awkward silence.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh.” I snapped
back to her with a devious smile. “Trust me, I know how to reach
our gear when we need it.”<br /><br />“I certainly hope so. You just
told me to hand you my outfit and tools then made a big deal about
hiding them somewhere later. Back on Omega.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh don't worry,
as long as we have easy access to a door, we'll be fine.” I replied
with a smirk.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kasumi cocked an
eyebrow.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What? No
follow-up question?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nope. I might be
a thief, but I do have some professional integrity.” she gave me a
coy glance.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, so
here's how it'll go down...”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8rl4txTZ5I2QaOib6kvCP92S_qgX_h7-SW8zoT1Tau56Nc4Q2BeKLDjC8xPEdSs098N2EOgw3uX3j7cYi4s65H3EhC7QyhcVXCVwDtcbdFEOi5EgvoBiKtY_F-clZSTRSpI0rsFrlww/s1600/Mass+Effect+Bekenstein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="700" height="114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8rl4txTZ5I2QaOib6kvCP92S_qgX_h7-SW8zoT1Tau56Nc4Q2BeKLDjC8xPEdSs098N2EOgw3uX3j7cYi4s65H3EhC7QyhcVXCVwDtcbdFEOi5EgvoBiKtY_F-clZSTRSpI0rsFrlww/s320/Mass+Effect+Bekenstein.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Donovan Hock's
estate was indulgently excessive, a look always in vogue on
Bekenstein. There were armed guards for sure, some of them even
sporting my product which would imply privately contracted; just
another way for Hock to show off his deep pockets. Kasumi and I made
our greetings, glass smiles all the way as we made our way past the
fountains and manicured gardens heading inside the party proper.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was the usual
scans for weapons, hidden tools, data pads or data chits that could
be used for blackmail, and of course a full body scan. Kasumi went
through first, and as we discussed, all she was wearing was her
clothing and a smile. Aside from a slightly accelerated heart rate
the scan turned up negative. I went up next, and of course the body
scan pulled up the key to my warehouse inside my bra.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The guard pulled me
aside and demanded an explanation.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you really
think I was going to try to steal an old earth vehicle or something?”
I quipped, twirling the key in my fingers, it resembling an old
twenty-first century house key, hoping my faux ignorance of its use
would put him off guard.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />“Miss T'Som,
glad to see you are becoming acquainted with my staff.” An
Afrikaans-accented voice from the party projected into the hall.
Donovan Hock had stepped out to greet me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to face
him, holding out my hand in greeting. He took a low bow and kissed
it. I seriously considered amputating it afterwards. I decided
instead to flash a smile and give slight nod.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Donovan, what an
awkward first impression.” I giggled, slipping into my fancy party
persona.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He looked up with a
smile and cupped my hand in his. “Oh I do so apologize for the
security measures that weren't mentioned in the invitation. Can never
be too sure in this day and age.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mr. Hock there is
still the matter of her item. It can be used as an improvised weapon
and we were told to have a zero tolerance policy for weaponry save
for approved staff.” The guard interjected.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I shot a sideways
glance to Kasumi, she looked worried. I motioned her to join me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh I do apologize
Donovan. The key is actually a keepsake from a friend of mine. It's a
bit of a good luck charm that I keep with me. Sorry I didn't fully
think about how deadly it could be.” I shrugged.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Donovan's mind went
to work and I could see it. He could tell me to put the key back on
the shuttle, or turn me away completely on a technicality. Either way
he was going to lose favor with me, and he needs my business.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How about this
then Miss T'Som,” his face of concentration snapping to one of faux
concern, “we leave your keepsake here with security. For you to
pick up when you leave. And I swear on the lives of my men that if it
goes missing I will personally see to their termination.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I left him hanging
for a while, putting my hand to my lips, eyes moving between Donovan
and his guards. I was expecting to see sweat on his brow, but to
Donovan's credit, his smile never faded.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright then.”
I handed the key to the guards and they promptly put it into a clear
storage tub and sealed it. “But if I see it isn't there, heads will
roll, kay?” I slipped an arm around Kasumi's waist and pulled her
close.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But of course
Miss T'Som,” Hock replied, gesturing towards the party proper. “May
I offer you and your...friend a drink?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“For me, yes. None
for her, she got a little...out of hand on the trip over here.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Ah.” Donovan
moved towards the refreshment table, leaving the two of us to his personal section of the party. A small circular area full of elaborate art exhibits and people in fancy suits pretending to care.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJlrgEP5w8g5_pP7EVDQp9eae2AlrIGmNdKn-T1Jscp4ksqpAqibdtrfiMwQgJbJ6JXPhgsef8sks-3SmMM5iZxFMsBB3ko6cSHXEb2TO7VnKZPWf7msHiyoTE1ew5Ey4AgMS5H73CkQ/s1600/Mass+Effect+Hock%2527s+Estate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJlrgEP5w8g5_pP7EVDQp9eae2AlrIGmNdKn-T1Jscp4ksqpAqibdtrfiMwQgJbJ6JXPhgsef8sks-3SmMM5iZxFMsBB3ko6cSHXEb2TO7VnKZPWf7msHiyoTE1ew5Ey4AgMS5H73CkQ/s320/Mass+Effect+Hock%2527s+Estate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Think you can get
him to roll over?” Kasumi retorted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I moved close to her
and whispered in her ear, “Find a bathroom stall in the lady's room
with no cameras then get back to me. I'll keep Donovan busy.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'll stay quiet
in the meantime. What's the cover?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I kissed her neck.
“Oh.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Humans feel
nervous around public displays of affection. Perfect cover.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kasumi broke away
from me, but not without making a bit of a show of it with a coy
smile and a giddy jump in her gait.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Donovan arrived
later with a tall glass full of bubbling dark violet drink.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The latest blend
from Thessia, the best of home I'd say wouldn't you Miss T'Som?” He
took a sip from a glass of his own drink. I tipped the glass but
didn't take a sip, double checking for unusual smells or something
off around the rim. Kasumi gave me a small primer about poisons and
truth-telling serums from her past infiltration experiences and how
it was always a good thing to fake a sip first and check the target's
reaction. This unfortunately wasn't Donovan's first rodeo either, his
face still formed into a wax smile.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well you know how
to make someone feel at home.” I replied. “Shall we get to
business?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Donovan gestured me
to a small circle of luxurious chairs, complete with fancy pieces of
modern art and servants holding out trays of drinks. It would have
looked like a throne among the already impressive display of
exquisite exhibits and laughing party guests... if the row of seats
weren't already occupied by another man.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som, allow
me to introduce you to another interested party in this venture.
Mister Jack Harper.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I could feel each
blood cell in my body turn to ice at the name. To everyone else, Jack
Harper was an unassuming man of advanced age, bits of dull silver
tucked away in his brown hair, wearing a sharp business suit and
casually smoking a cigarette. Despite getting looks from the guests,
he puffed shamelessly, just because tobacco-related diseases have
been wiped out by advanced medical science doesn't mean the social
stigma around smoking magically vanished as well.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7y3M0PLubhbod4Z-b75KeoYVpiLAaebB-nUC-qWg9QIbrzdyCmw1G3LlG5UdzPjF-XxarQhJiFjd2-h_sQb8c-VLEdkceJREqNDeEECO5UeBRy2nHeHKPa86ksXzWYmG79A-dIMo18k/s1600/Mass+Effect+The+Illusive+Man.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7y3M0PLubhbod4Z-b75KeoYVpiLAaebB-nUC-qWg9QIbrzdyCmw1G3LlG5UdzPjF-XxarQhJiFjd2-h_sQb8c-VLEdkceJREqNDeEECO5UeBRy2nHeHKPa86ksXzWYmG79A-dIMo18k/s320/Mass+Effect+The+Illusive+Man.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But to me I knew who
he truly was: the mysterious head of the militant humanity-first
organization Cerberus. The Illusive Man. The leader of the group that
has been giving Shepard and The Alliance so much trouble. The ones
who were racing to uncover the secret agenda of The Collectors
themselves for their own personal ends.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And he was ten feet
– and a quick biotic snap of the neck – away from me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I smiled through
clenched teeth. “Pleased to meet you Mister Harper.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He simply shot me a
look of disdain and blew smoke in my general direction. “We were in
the middle of discussing some business Mr. Hock?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Why yes of
course. But as you can tell, there is a third interested party,”
Hock mollified, offering me a chair. I slipped into it and took a
slightly deeper drink from my glass, I was going to need it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So now that
you're both here, I do wish to discuss your individual proposals. As
you can tell-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Considering the
fact that I reached out to you at this venture and was the first to
arrive, wouldn't you say Miss T'Som's claim in your affairs are now
moot?” Jack interrupted, shooting me a look of disdain.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I straightened my
back and put on my Ice Queen look. Alright Jack, you wanna play
character assassination? Bring it on.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Technically
Mister Harper, I reached out to Hock a day before the party started.
With the express purpose of wishing to do business with him. So silly
of me, but either you tried to pitch a proposal to him unannounced at
a party, which if I recall from human customs is ostensibly a
leisurely activity in which case how dreadfully uncouth of you, or
you called Hock before me and he didn't tell me, in which case,” I
shot a mild pout towards Hock, “shame on you.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Jack looked
embittered by my accusation, looking away to take another drag on his
cigarette; Hock turned pensive. “It was more a matter of context
Miss T'Som.” he finally said.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My smile turned
venomous. “Ah, I see what is going on then Donovan. You were
expecting a bit more of an under-the-radar nature of my visit. Since
what you do isn't exactly smiled upon by the Alliance.”<br /><br />“I
am merely a curator of the arts Miss T'Som, and sometimes collecting
those pieces can lead to dangerous situations.” Hock justified.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And due to the
more aggressive crackdown of those sales by the Alliance, you were
hoping to get some more firepower to even the odds. I had a criminal
record once, Donovan, I know the game all too well.” I snapped.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“All the more
reason then to hear my proposal since it has no... prior association
with the Alliance.” Jack chimed in, smelling blood in the water.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was before I
could follow-up on Jack's regained control that Kasumi put her hand
on my shoulder, her breath warm in my ear. I flashed a toothy smile
to the two slimeballs and rose from my seat.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“If you gentlemen
will excuse me, I do believe I am needed elsewhere. Please, by all
means discuss in my absence. That was clearly the plan from the
beginning.” I then made a bit of a show of storming off towards the
ladies room, Kasumi pulled close to me the whole time.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to stop myself
from vomiting in the sink or splashing cold water in my face. It
would be on camera for one and it would ruin the make-up for two. I
had to keep my facade up a little while longer. The rich mahogany
stall doors, marble sinks and gold-decorated towel dispensers looking
more and more gaudy as my mood soured. Instead, I opened a stall door
with my partner in tow and closed the door behind us.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So what now?”
Kasumi asked, curiosity seeping into her tone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slipped a hand
down the front of my dress and pulled my warehouse key from my bra
and twirled it between my fingers and smiled.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But how did-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shhh.” I put a
finger to her lips. “A magician never reveals her secrets.” I
then lightly flicked her ears and made circular gesture around the
stall. She nodded in understanding. She might have been a Master
Thief, but her professional cool was clearly obliterated by trying to
suss out a miracle of a lift that didn't happen. Jump made it clear
to me that this key was mine and no one else's. If it gets taken or
is out of my possession for anything north of five minutes, it will
return to me. Simple as that.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I turned to the
stall's lock and awkwardly pressed the key into the electronic lock.
To my surprise, the key slipped inside the interface, a dull white
glow surrounding the metal of the key. I turned the key and opened
the stall door. A column of white light filled the stall, and the
grand majesty of my large warehouse awaited.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Although it was
diminished somewhat by me taking a few tentative steps at the
entrance to grab the equipment bags. Kasumi's armor, Omni-Tool, SMG
and cloaking device were handed over promptly. As for me, I would
have to wait a little while longer to suit up. All the same I kept my
bag of stuff a few crucial milimeters away from the exit's threshold
and motioned Kasumi to come inside.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, this is
new, and I've seen quite a lot behind closed doors.” Kasumi gasped
in delight. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I closed the door
behind me. “Don't worry, there's a kind of time dilation effect
while we're in here. Think you can take a moment to stop gazing at
this and give me a sit rep?” I snapped my fingers in front of
Kasumi's face.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh. Right.” She
shook her head. “So there aren't many guards but they are armed to
the teeth. Should be easy to sneak past them with my cloak but I will
need a distraction to get access to Hock's vault. Also a re-routing
for its security systems which I can do easily with my Omni-Tool, and
a voice profile of Hock.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Which means I'll
have to get him to talk.” I replied, slipping a small chit under
the sleeve of my dress. “And considering how desperate he is
looking for some sort of reprieve from the Alliance's raids to the
point that he's willing to get into bed with Cerberus, I think I know
just where to apply pressure.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My Omni-Tool is
linked to the recorder. Wait for two quick vibrations then start
recording. My program should do the rest.” Kasumi commented as she
slipped into her armor, hitting several glowing icons on her Tool.
“Wait, did you say Cerberus?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I...can't exactly
prove it with hard evidence but let's just say I have a sixth sense
about some of the guests.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Arguably the biggest
problem when it comes to knowing the true identity of The Illusive
Man is he does a fantastic job of hiding his goings on. Shell
companies, hundreds of officials paid off to lie for him, a paper
trail that's iron clad, you name it. The Illusive Man wasn't a title
he gave himself after all.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We'll rendezvous
at the vault door once my distraction goes live.” I followed up.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Just one
question...” Kasumi gestured around my warehouse.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do you wanna rob
this bastard or not?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She nodded.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Then don't ask
anymore questions.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the door to the
bathroom stall opened again, Kasumi had activated her cloak and
followed me out. I then washed my hands and stepped outside, taking
some deep breaths to keep myself under control. This wasn't Kasumi's
first rodeo, but this was mine.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I then stepped back
into Hock's party...and into the face of Jack Harper.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Excuse me, Mister
Harper, you may want to give me my space. I'm not exactly in a good
mood today.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm on to you
Variza.” He said, his voice emotionless and tactical.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt goosebumps
shoot through my body. If I had any hair on my head it would be
standing up. He leaned close to me, his notably artificial lightning
blue eyes piercing me with cold precision.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You might have
everyone else fooled but I know exactly what you are.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I readied some
biotic power. Jack does have a network of spies, maybe even a greater
connection to <i>the</i> network of spies
held by The Shadow Broker. And C-Sec's arrest of me is on record, any
detective could in theory punch incongruities in Garrus' fabricated
record. I prepared for the worst.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You're nothing
but a mere thief.” He practically spat the words.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Not according to
the asari patent offices Jack.” I sneered through my teeth without
missing a beat, dispelling my built up power. His nostrils flared in
anger but he slowly backed off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You might have
helped Commander Shepard save the Citadel, but your blatant theft of
others' work for your own benefit tells me you are nothing more than
a parasite. You will not stand in the way of humanity's progress. One
way or another your secrets will be found out.” His eyes motioned
to a guard nearby, an Inquisitor pistol at his hip, “And the day
that happens is the day the galaxy will be in complete order as it
should be.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Let me guess,
with humanity as something greater than before?” I remarked. “Jack,
humanity has some of the greatest minds of the age and some of the
most talented warriors in the galaxy. You've already done so much,
but something tells me you've forgotten the galaxy is more than just
a place to house your ego.” I snapped back. “But I know one way
to truly make it better...”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I walked past him,
running into his shoulder, which would have been a bit more imposing
if I wasn't in the body of a lithe blue woman with a soldier's build
doing it to a six foot tall man in his sixties, and said under my
breath in his ear.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“...it can do
without snakes in the grass like you.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't bother to
look back at The Illusive Man as I returned to Donovan. Whatever deal
those two made, it was one I'd have to handle elsewhere. Not my
circus, not my monkeys. But I did get some looks from party guests
when they realized I entered the bathroom with my date and returned
without her with a look of confidence. Might as well lean in to those
notions....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5eeYbSdRPJqMWtuKdL1gBKl6qfGJXXsYVMTZgF_PMt-TfcmbE-rOmFan6tUu1oVqSQ0yhjVS6aBn1p1Jm9ztQUqazTyg7kE-QIbtg8_nB5CgyEG1Q93IWx5XvN8LUA9UNLwlLi7nfig/s1600/Mass+Effect+Donovan+Hock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1440" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5eeYbSdRPJqMWtuKdL1gBKl6qfGJXXsYVMTZgF_PMt-TfcmbE-rOmFan6tUu1oVqSQ0yhjVS6aBn1p1Jm9ztQUqazTyg7kE-QIbtg8_nB5CgyEG1Q93IWx5XvN8LUA9UNLwlLi7nfig/s320/Mass+Effect+Donovan+Hock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I sat back down at
my chair, my purple drink still there, and gave Hock my best
empathetic expression.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So Donovan, now
that I'm a bit more relaxed now, do you mind if we try this again?”
The device on my wrist vibrated twice. I took a sip from the glass
and placed my hand under my glass-holding wrist, my index finger
ready to press record.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You don't have to
worry about this being a sting operation or some nonsense. I'm just
focusing on expanding my business, and you know what they say about
businesses and bedfellows right?” I darted my eyes back towards the
bathroom and managed a coy smile, taking even more smaller sips from
the glass. Hock seemed more nervous than anything else. I set my
glass down and gave him my best look.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The point is, I
am simply looking at you as a client who wants more security with
what he holds dear and that is all I care about. Saving the world was
just a means to get out of jail between you and me. Honestly, the
galaxy is more interesting when it comes to things people don't know
about. So consider this for exactly what it is. Off the record, no
strings attached. I have product, you have demand, let's talk turkey
as you humans say.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hock's demeanor
slowly changed to something more friendly. I hit the record button
and proceeded to nod and smile. He went on about how raids by the
Alliance and the resulting pressure has been leading to hectic
conflicts among the major PMCs in the galaxy: Eclipse, Blue Sun, and
the Blood Pack. Which meant a lot of contracts being terminated.
Eclipse particularly losing a lot of pull and manpower after the Geth
attack on Purgatory Station. In-fighting translating to higher rates
for clients, more clandestine meetings due to them usually being
hired for high-end crime, leading to the more white-collar scum like
Hock desperate for choice. His solution was to simply hire his own
men and kit them out with the weapons and armor from my company.
Making his key business ventures of smuggling, art dealing, and arms
dealing to go by a little smoother. I did bring up the absurdity of a
black market arms dealer making deals with a weapons dealer but he
merely smiled. After what felt like an eternity my wrist vibrated
again. I put my hand up to my ear to scratch my temple, Kasumi's
voice coming at a barely audible whisper with two simple words,
“we're ready.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So Miss T'Som,
what would you say would be a sensible order for an operation
as...modest as mine?” Hock asked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I rose from my
chair, “If you don't mind I'd like to get a better look at what my
guns will be protecting, care to show me around?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And so Hock gave me
the tour of the party. A lot of turian paintings, asari abstract
sculptures, and even a few human pieces of modern art. I'm no art
critic so I simply ooo'd and ahh'd as Hock showed off what he had.
Then we got close to the checkpoint and I deployed my distraction.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Donovan, where's
my key?” I asked, eyes wide and staring at the translucent tub
under heavy guard.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What do you mean
Miss T'Som? It's right th-” he froze mid-sentence, seeing what I
saw, his face white as a sheet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He stormed towards
the checkpoint and started yelling, raising hell. And I joined in.
Spinning a story from whole cloth about how the key was the last of
its kind and a keep sake from a friend that taught me so much while I
lived my life on a colony among humans. How I've had it for well over
a century and that it was irreplaceable. The Blue Bitch demonstrated
her namesake in full regalia in ten hellish minutes.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am going to
head to the bathroom to collect my date Donovan. And if I don't see
that key waiting for me when I go to leave you can forget so much as
getting a knife from me!” I bellowed, purple in the face.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I stormed past the
guests, some asari shaking their heads in disdain like I was some
pampered spoiled brat. Let them talk, Donovan's security were
scrambling around looking for a tiny piece of metal under threat of
termination, distraction deployed at the cost of face is a price well
paid.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slipped past
several guards as they ran towards the commotion caused by Hock
threatening to throw half his staff into the vacuum of space and made
my way down a staircase towards a large intimidating steel door. I
stepped up to it and tapped in quick succession. The door opened and
Kasumi awaited.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How much time do
we have before security gets back online?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'd say about
five minutes. What about your distraction?”<br /><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh I'd say based
on Hock's desperation somewhere between five to ten minutes tops.”
I smiled, slipping off my shoes. She smiled back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I like your
style, Variza.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well I do my
best.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Everything
afterwards moved by at breakneck speed. Kasumi and I moved through
countless corridors of dull gray highlighted by simple industrial
lights, slipping through doors with some good old fashioned elbow
grease and breezing past security checkpoints abdicated by Hock's
men.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9unLmEO-iX3UsczCrm8DzIYwaK6iRS16t3QhIBsHPtCxzsoPgpsrpGe8ZhZyAAkvTkoQCeDQFmXcsA1GgiLHKxTnSf6v9utkIfYM6VBNKh4eGEelL5R3kIdgmmhp9E0RK8sNCx4RvdC8/s1600/Mass+Effect+Donovan%2527s+Vault.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="554" data-original-width="1600" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9unLmEO-iX3UsczCrm8DzIYwaK6iRS16t3QhIBsHPtCxzsoPgpsrpGe8ZhZyAAkvTkoQCeDQFmXcsA1GgiLHKxTnSf6v9utkIfYM6VBNKh4eGEelL5R3kIdgmmhp9E0RK8sNCx4RvdC8/s320/Mass+Effect+Donovan%2527s+Vault.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was after what
felt like an eternity in a maze we finally made it to his Vault
proper. A large open area full of some of the most precious pieces of
various cultures under secure glass. Da Vinci, Monet, some more
eclectic and alien talents I knew little about. There was even the
head of the Statue of Liberty hanging in the back of the room. But
Kasumi made a beeline for a particular artifact in the room, a small
plastic looking box with a handle and a gray cylinder coming from it.
It took me a minute, but I knew what it had to be.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's a graybox
isn't it?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“One that holds
the memories of my old partner, yes.” She could barely contain her
excitement as she cut through the glass in a rote motion with her
Omni-Tool.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well now I know
how far you'd go to get closure with someone,” I quipped, waiting
for her to remove the graybox completely from its cage before putting
the key into the electronic lock of its case, opening a small door to
the warehouse. I then gestured Kasumi to throw it in. She complied.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her Omni-Tool gave
out several rapid beeps. She turned her arm to me, revealing a timer
of thirty seconds. I looked around for something, anything that could
fit through a small display door. Sadly Hock's private stash was full
of large and delicate pieces so handling them into the warehouse was
out of the question.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I motioned to Kasumi
to get out back through the vault door. We got what we came for, now
it was a matter of getting out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was after roughly
ten seconds of getting through the vault that security clattered back
on again. Laser grids crisscrossed over the open threshold, klaxons
started to shriek, and red lights began flashing left and right.
Kasumi cloaked and made her way through. As for me, I kept my heels
off and ran back into the hall.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was after I
stormed back up the stairs that I found the party in total disarray.
Hock's guard now went from scrambling on the ground looking for a key
to being on high alert from a vault breach. Also the windows and exit
were sealed with blast doors. Great.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slipped on my high
heels and pinched the bridge of my nose while moving as bristly as I
could towards the checkpoint.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And now I have a
splitting headache from all of this commotion! Are you trying to piss
me off to get a better deal or something Donovan!?” I yelled over
the klaxons. Hock might as well have seen the devil in my eyes with
the expression he gave.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss T'Som, there
appears to have been a security breach. For everyone's personal
safety you must stay with the others until my men have secured the
area.” He studdered, sweat beading on his brow.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I grabbed him by the
collar and pulled him close.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How's this for
secure? I walk out of that door right now, get on my shuttle and
leave right the hell now and when you find my key you hand deliver it
to me with a bouquet of red roses and a handwritten apology note.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But I-”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And maybe I won't
rip every single one of you apart with my mind in the next two
minutes.” My anger was boiling, and I tightened my grip on his
throat to drive my point.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Wait a
minute...where is your partner? The girl you came with?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Crap. I hate not
thinking this stuff completely through. And my reputation as an
ex-criminal only goes so far.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Several of Hock's
men aimed their rifles at me, demanding that I unhand their boss.
After a few crucial seconds I sighed and loosened my grip....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I grabbed one
of the guards in my biotic grip and threw him in a wide crescent,
forcing him to collide bodily. The party guests screamed in shock at
my violence. I quickly changed my grip and used Hock like a body
shield, telekinetically grabbing the downed guard's pistol into my
open hand.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright boys, put
the guns down and your meal ticket gets to live a lot longer!” I
bellowed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“As for the rest
of you, I suggest ducking for some cover!”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A sharp bang filled
the air and I felt something whiz past my ear, causing my heart to
stop. Whoever these guys are, Donovan trained them well. They weren't
standing down, and they were trying to take me out. And I'm in a
dress.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A second thud filled
the room and a small cylinder rolled towards me and Hock. I closed my
eyes and pushed Hock while running the other way. Then I felt hands
clap over my ears and drag me to the ground. A loud <i>bang</i>
shortly followed!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked up, half
expecting Jump to greet me with a sad grin and a star-shaped sticker
with “You Tried!” written on it. Instead, it was Kasumi beaming
with mischief. It was a flashbang, clever girl.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We don't have
much time! I'll try to hack the security system but I need your
help!” She screamed, projecting over the cacophony of panic. I
nodded, and with a quick wink of acknowledgment she vanished once
again with her cloak.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I scanned my
environment, looking for a door. And there was... on the other side
of the room leading to the balcony. I only had so much time so I
called on my biotics once again after taking a standing leap, this
time channeling the energy behind me, pushing me forward with great
force. I felt the effects immediately, my body whipping through the
air like it was launched from a catapult and my arms feel like they
just got smashed with a press. The balcony door was a few precious
feet away. I landed in a roll and moved as quickly as I could,
slipping my key out and reaching towards the handle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By the time the door
to my warehouse opened, Hock's men had shaken off the flashbang, but
weren't expecting me to be further <i>inside</i> the building. As I
stepped through the threshold I heard Hock yell out my position to
his men. Then the door closed and it was just me and my equipment
bag.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the door opened
again, the guards were clearly not expecting me in full armor to
greet them. Especially a fresh prototype from the boys in R&D. I
pulled out my pistol and called up some more power in my hands.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The fight was over
in about ten seconds all told. Kasumi appeared from behind enemy
lines and struck several of the guards, exacerbating their already
considerable confusion. A biotic slam from me and several well placed
phasic rounds through their shielded helmets was the cherry on top.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hock was scrambling
on the ground, baffled and rattled by what just happened. I simply
picked him up and pinned him to a wall with one hand.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What...are you?”
He managed to choke out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Haven't you
heard? I'm the Blue Bitch.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MlhoQ8tqygf_idwHVJkycGUClfWOzdtMUOi2Qkro2sSDHjlpbnUGGoviF8mcXJ-tK8oqrmG32VTrP-EQyhKjqgE1TJyCC_Y7CjV30p-yJCpGn8h__U6SUKKVKFD_8-O5ADv_thOT53Q/s1600/Mass+Effect+Shepard+Asari+Stare+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="245" data-original-width="435" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MlhoQ8tqygf_idwHVJkycGUClfWOzdtMUOi2Qkro2sSDHjlpbnUGGoviF8mcXJ-tK8oqrmG32VTrP-EQyhKjqgE1TJyCC_Y7CjV30p-yJCpGn8h__U6SUKKVKFD_8-O5ADv_thOT53Q/s320/Mass+Effect+Shepard+Asari+Stare+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was on the trip
back that I finally contacted Shepard about what had happened through
a local station's private Extranet chamber.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So what exactly
happened to Hock?” Shepard replied, remaining stoic throughout the
extravagant tale.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh he's been
arrested by Alliance officials. I kind of let slip I was undercover
as part of an operation for a Spectre, mentioned your name and
everything, and they took it as is.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“But I didn't
authorize his arrest.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I also wasn't
lying. It was a favor for your latest recruit for the Omega-4
mission. Miss Kasumi Goto. Plus I think a few preservationists would
love to get a hold of that Statue of Liberty head he has.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard shook his
head in bewilderment at that last statement. “Alright, I'll speak
with the Council and say you were working for me to deal with a
possible weapons deal between Hock and Cerberus. Sound fair to you?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well, reality's
stranger than fiction...” I mumbled under my breath.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well between what
you've provided for me and some of the... interesting company I've
managed to convince to join me, I think we're just about ready to
start that operation. We still need a way to protect ourselves from
the Collector's tactics and a way to go through the relay unharmed.
Hopefully Doctor Solus and our Engineering expert can come up with
something.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Tali?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Was it really
that obvious?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Come on, she's
brilliant even by other quarian standards. If she wasn't on the team
I'd vouch for her myself.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shepard smiled.
“Speaking of which, you know there's still a place on the Normandy
for you, Variza. I know you've been vocal about it but the door's
still open.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry Shepard,
not my circus, not my monkeys. I'm too busy getting things bunkered
down at home for you. But by all means good luck with your suicide
mission.” I said with a laugh at the end.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I returned to
the shuttle, Kasumi was sitting in the corner, a visor over her face
with the graybox attached to it, tears streaming down her face.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Keiji-san...”
she whispered under her breath, wiping away the tears.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm sure he was a
good man,” I said softly, sitting next to her, hand on her
shoulder.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The visor slid away
and Kasumi looked away, not wanting to show how puffy her eyes
looked.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He wants me to
destroy it. That he found secrets so dangerous that every cutthroat
in the galaxy will be after it. Something about Operation
Ascension.... But it's all I have to remember him by...” She held
the box close.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pulled her close
as the shuttle's auto-pilot returned us to Omega. The rest of the trip was in silence. It ended on a professional handshake and a thank you. <br /><br />I've done all I can
for Shepard's team, now it was all on them.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-43183551493272340492017-10-11T18:21:00.001-07:002017-10-12T00:53:02.203-07:00Animation Deviation: Rick and Morty's Awful Fanbase<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuDgI7wOTqp9kTrIvuyR0ds8rMAz3VrQL0ln3fXh4Bx134PjPb0lhQzZrE5mZuEBFVw9-Lr2dss4n2B6DaDRY4-03LaOAtx6zBjiwCkHOQlVva-t-rXnoe_rLuwjCaeBkWdboJPKAf7o/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Flip+Off+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="303" data-original-width="540" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuDgI7wOTqp9kTrIvuyR0ds8rMAz3VrQL0ln3fXh4Bx134PjPb0lhQzZrE5mZuEBFVw9-Lr2dss4n2B6DaDRY4-03LaOAtx6zBjiwCkHOQlVva-t-rXnoe_rLuwjCaeBkWdboJPKAf7o/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Flip+Off+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, <a href="http://comicbook.com/tv-shows/2017/10/07/mcdonalds-szechaun-sauce-police-riots-rick-morty/">this
happened</a>.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Rick and Morty, one
of the most popular animated shows aimed at adults in recent memory,
telling dark sci-fi stories full of absurd jokes and cosmic inanity,
has officially garnered a fanbase that basically terrorized a limited
number of fast-food restaurants across the country in ravenous
entitled droves all in a bid... to get their hands on a limited run
McNugget dipping sauce. There are rants on Youtube, accusations of
harrassment of employees, and a crapload of maniacs on eBay selling
gallons of the sauce for hundreds of dollars.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But first let's
rewind. Partially because I like me some bizarre cold opens and also
because I want to make this column as accessible as possible for
those out there with no direct access to cable or have been
blissfully ignorant of this animated craze.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Premiering in 2013,
Rick and Morty was the dual creation of underground animation talent
Justin Roiland and <i>Community</i> creator Dan Harmon and revolves
around the adventures of Rick Sanchez, a mad scientist who has
returned to live with his daughter's family, and his teenage grandson
Morty. It was originally conceived as an off-brand parody of Back to
the Future with Rick as Doc Brown and Morty as Marty McFly but with
the roles and dynamic changed from close friends to Grandfather and
Grandson.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And for most of the
show's first season that was essentially the schtick. Rick and Morty
would get into crazy adventures involving aliens, building an
amusement park inside a human body in a hilarious mash-up of
Fantastic Voyage and Jurassic Park, and hyperintelligent dogs trying
to overthrow the human race, all while a more grounded B-plot
unravels involving Morty's parents dealing with Christmas stress,
marriage woes, or work. It was funny, it was cleverly written, and it
had just the right mix of silly, dark, ridiculous and pisstaking
going on under the skin.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That is until an
episode called Rick Potion No. 9 where Morty begs his grandfather to
use his super science to make a love potion to use on his love
interest Jessica at a school dance. Things snowball when the potion
attaches to a flu virus and infects the entire school, leading to the
entire planet mutating into horrifying monsters. But since this is a
cartoon made on television, the status quo is god so Rick has
everything go back to normal...by opening a portal to an alternate
universe where everything was normal but that world's version of Rick
and Morty had died horribly in an experiment a few seconds ago,
burying their bodies and then continuing life like nothing happened.
Leaving an entire world to burn, a grandson traumatized by burying
his own corpse and dealing with the existential dread of what just
happened along with the terrifying implication that this isn't the
first time Rick has done this.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVk5L0tsj3GA-pX1GK8_owWdhaJwpL77JZkSfmpk9nrq2kH7pWkyHzCg6d_cZenn6x9hGgLYNAtjSBXg_MvrMYwDcYsQ6gyQIFsEAE8aDa5YS-xaT61sdpZBaboea623g-9DZgKkdzYxE/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Panick+Morty.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVk5L0tsj3GA-pX1GK8_owWdhaJwpL77JZkSfmpk9nrq2kH7pWkyHzCg6d_cZenn6x9hGgLYNAtjSBXg_MvrMYwDcYsQ6gyQIFsEAE8aDa5YS-xaT61sdpZBaboea623g-9DZgKkdzYxE/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Panick+Morty.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It is here that Rick
and Morty plants its flag about what its central theme and idea is or
at least what central theme it will explore with a straight face when
it isn't taking the piss out of everything else: what happens when
someone has access to the literal infinite. Easy access to a
multiverse where literally anything and everything has happened, will
happen, and is happening right now with every conceivable variation imaginable. The answer
they settle on is pretty depressing. Rick Sanchez is a gassy
alcoholic with an almost sociopathic non-existent moral compass. Save
for his instinct to protect his family, Rick basically does whatever
he wants to mess with people, a jaded Bugs Bunny with an arsenal of
sci-fi gadgets.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The rest of Season 1
and 2 lean in to this... in between other one-off episodes like Rick
beating up The Devil in a riff on the Stephen King story Needful
Things or an episode long parody and satire of The Purge movies.
Stuff like a clipshow episode made up of a bunch of random sketches
and bits that look and sound like they were improvised on the spot
called Interdimensional Cable, and the introduction of the Citadel of
Ricks, a pocket dimension full of thousands of variations of Rick and
Morty that the show's lead actively despises due to his hatred for
organized government and his desire to a genuine Rick.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All of this with a
mantra repeated over and over: nothing you do matters, nothing is
sacred, and life is meaningless.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FITL4TCxTA2zjBEINSaTyMIs16-AzeSwWl7K18NZl65TJiYZTnf5fhc-nvXu1ojCLkiD-moobChqCpuVm7ijUX6IDfNrqO4Gwgm8j6BXW-tvrxbKZZKDOtCTdZwwt11Ou9bet9qIWUY/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Nothing+Matters+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FITL4TCxTA2zjBEINSaTyMIs16-AzeSwWl7K18NZl65TJiYZTnf5fhc-nvXu1ojCLkiD-moobChqCpuVm7ijUX6IDfNrqO4Gwgm8j6BXW-tvrxbKZZKDOtCTdZwwt11Ou9bet9qIWUY/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Nothing+Matters+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This leads to
probably the greatest absurd joke ever in the show's run between its
Season 2 finale and the Season 3 premiere. After the Galactic
Federation actively hunts after Rick and his family for his multiple
crimes against humanity, murdering friends Rick had accrued fighting
in a Resistance movement (keep that in the back of your head by the
way), and leaving the group on the lam, Rick willingly turns himself
in on the condition that his family will not be harmed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Cut to a year and a
half later when Season 3 premieres and the Galactic Federation try to
probe Rick's mind to figure out interdimensional travel, which leads
to them seeing what looks like Rick's origin. Him discovering how to
travel the infinite, refusing to despite being egged on by the
Citadel of Ricks, then losing his family in a tragic accident, a
trite anti-hero background meant to make him more sympathetic. It's
all a crock of shit though, a ploy used by Rick that sets off an
audacious chain of events leading to the total destruction of the
Federation, the Citadel of Ricks, and Morty's parents getting a
divorce.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yep, it was all an
elaborate scheme by Rick Sanchez to take over the family without the
simple human mediocrity and constant series punchline, Morty's dad,
Jerry, in the picture. As for his true origin, the real thing that
drives him to act like a mad god that creates and destroys whatever
he wants? Because he utterly craves a limited run of szechuan dipping
sauce created by McDonald's to promote the Mulan movie back in 1996,
and he has yet to find a version of Earth to have replicated the
sauce exactly as he remembers it. It was a throwaway gag in the
beginning of the episode as part of his planted backstory and the
result of me almost passing out from laughter.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gTbBhYEkbnF_Qqj9aEpv2NLP3RxnAj669lg_93vwJoKs8stnlRb627Ys49d3pfaIHHgJucelV97cBpBhylpRjRsbKxTt_8UTIVuaJ7yoh63ZE3CQ8dWaFVUQmV_rl0slgbSdhN1SskU/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Sauce+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="480" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gTbBhYEkbnF_Qqj9aEpv2NLP3RxnAj669lg_93vwJoKs8stnlRb627Ys49d3pfaIHHgJucelV97cBpBhylpRjRsbKxTt_8UTIVuaJ7yoh63ZE3CQ8dWaFVUQmV_rl0slgbSdhN1SskU/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Sauce+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, originally for
Animation Deviation I was going to talk about Season 3 at length and
how it went into more serialized storytelling, analyzing how much
Rick's antics have actually damaged and changed Morty and his sister
Summer, how Jerry actually grows as a character, and the legitimately
tragic and complex interactions between Rick and his daughter Beth.
For a show that goes out of its way to keep things simple and quick
to grasp, especially with the main cast, there was a lot of layers to
peel back.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That and the
brilliance that came from an episode premise as bonkers as Rick
turning himself into a pickle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6fPK9cMuSwkstjqIvH2sI8ETyZhsnsiDr-nijDRt0WID3s8or34zflrWMn0VfU1C7B-nB8tsJF6EOhYaiDOSQChoExZNIVtTmJ666eoc0sxvb0_YRJ7OI-5mdp_08o_r6wScaIBwMJ8/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Pickle+Rick+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6fPK9cMuSwkstjqIvH2sI8ETyZhsnsiDr-nijDRt0WID3s8or34zflrWMn0VfU1C7B-nB8tsJF6EOhYaiDOSQChoExZNIVtTmJ666eoc0sxvb0_YRJ7OI-5mdp_08o_r6wScaIBwMJ8/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Pickle+Rick+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But, once again,
look at the opening. Much like Fight Club, the fanbase surrounding
Rick and Morty has gravitated towards and began identifying not with
the human characters like Morty or Jerry, but the psychotic asshole
who “has it all figured out.” Just swap out Tyler Durden's
anarchic toxic masculine nihilism with Rick Sanchez's
self-destructive nihilism and you still have a bunch of fans who take
it as an excuse to abandon personal growth or personal ambition in
favor of wallowing in the absurd and the nothing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hence a bunch of
manchildren issuing death threats to some poor fast-food employees to
get some expired foodstuffs.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a trope that
some have called The Asshole Philosophy or The Asshole Effect. A
singular character that acts like a completely unlikable jerk,
actively demeaning and berating the entire cast while flaunting how
smarter, sharper, or more capable he/she is, and ultimately gets away
with it because their intelligence helps solve the problem of the
week or because they're (allegedly) so goshdarn likeable. Peter
Griffin gets to do whatever the heck he wants like terrorize his
family, kill people, steal, do stuff in terrible taste, and will
ultimately get away with it because the status quo is maintained and
it amounts to nothing. It's read as a power fantasy for the smartest
guy in the room to be entitled to impunity. And if there's a group of
people that want to embody that power fantasy more than anyone, it's
the psuedo-intellectuals on the internet.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVroIOXK0AhmJiySAW_wR0tb1yKt0WGJGAPqgMIs6GGopeY7z-Dk2vDC2SrMcBLMxxVwGKnH2DqgGqSG59YEC-iN-cfjB_AvHFijb0bQCn46oC8JAvPCNG7kcImyR-v5eL6_bnbZjC_4/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Opinion+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVroIOXK0AhmJiySAW_wR0tb1yKt0WGJGAPqgMIs6GGopeY7z-Dk2vDC2SrMcBLMxxVwGKnH2DqgGqSG59YEC-iN-cfjB_AvHFijb0bQCn46oC8JAvPCNG7kcImyR-v5eL6_bnbZjC_4/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Opinion+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But here's the rub.
In recent history, there have been shows that have pushed back
against this characterization, using serialized storytelling to let
consequences play out. Bojack Horseman is a fantastic example of
this. A show that starts with a well-off Hollywood celebrity in a
furnished apartment with friends, an agent getting him work, and an
affable roommate, and through his selfish manipulative actions,
actions that would otherwise be swept under the rug, ends with the
apartment in shambles, all of his peers hating his guts, leading to
the lead having to deal with his self-destructive tendencies and
deepseated self-loathing.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But while Bojack is
a human drama wearing the skin of a goofy comedy, Rick and Morty is
mostly a comedy with dark drama below the surface. As mentioned
before, Rick Sanchez has been held up as some sort of ideal guy, and
on the very surface he is quite appealing – once again he turned
himself into a pickle on a goof and still somehow MacGuyver'd himself
some doomsday weapons to fight off a threat in an office building –
but the show has also made it clear that Rick Sanchez is both
miserable and terrifying to his own family.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He has been seen
wanting to kill himself on multiple occasions. The one serious
relationship he has with an alien hive mind falls apart because a
literal collective infection of millions of men and women find him to
be a dangerous influence on their existence. He actively fought for a
cause that was only hinted at before, meaning he does have something
resembling a moral center, or at the very least an ideal he'll fight
for.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a message the
show implicitly says: Rick coping with the infinite possibilities of
the multiverse actively makes him miserable, and his coping
mechanisms are actively hurting him and everyone around him.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RtImi3D5tDWJYCSJXRNUVNUY6GOgnGCt6WzcdaULmq-lzKm7Pak3r3QA2rmHF5GRDwY7bpY1tTkr3uJUB2fDmPlpSv4aukOtABv_5_4vkIO1_QUfcBa1Gz64BAWDkN7IA88sSZygvVI/s1600/Rick+and+Morty+Suicidal+Rick+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="498" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RtImi3D5tDWJYCSJXRNUVNUY6GOgnGCt6WzcdaULmq-lzKm7Pak3r3QA2rmHF5GRDwY7bpY1tTkr3uJUB2fDmPlpSv4aukOtABv_5_4vkIO1_QUfcBa1Gz64BAWDkN7IA88sSZygvVI/s320/Rick+and+Morty+Suicidal+Rick+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A message that
becomes blatantly explicit in the Season 3 finale where Beth gets
back together with Jerry, finding his earnest and grounded simplicity
a much needed balm for Rick's chaotic actions and tendencies, ending
with Rick now seen as the lowest status character in the family
dynamic.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Despite him
repeating that nothing matters and that God is dead and that
Thanksgiving is about killing Indians and other “edgy” dark
revelations, the family moves on and lets him dwell in this dour
mood.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is not to say
that I hate Rick and Morty. I love this demented show. I love the
cast. I love the jokes. I love the rapid-fire sci-fi parodies,
deconstructions, and inversions it throws at you one after the other.
I love the writing, I love the performances. I love how it can go
back and forth between being smart and stupid in equal measure with
sci-fi concepts.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I just find it
maddening that a community that will tell you “you need to have a
large IQ to understand the true depth and complexity” of the show
have a complete lack of self-awareness to not recognize that their idealized paragon of
awesomeness actively uses his intelligence to justify his sickness
and promotes self-harm, leading to an ultimately unhealthy and dangerous lifestyle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And that's not just
me saying it, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fot0BLOxPdk">show
itself says it too</a>!</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Digital Desperado
out!!</div>
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<br /></div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-57492561686960392812017-09-19T17:37:00.000-07:002017-09-19T17:37:22.502-07:00Multiverse Desperado A Jumpchain Fiction Chapter 19
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chapter 19: Over The Hump</b></span></div>
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It was after my
twenty-second shot at Jump's face that I finally stopped. It cost me
a thermal clip and it didn't do anything to her body – tore the
hell out of the bed, the pillow, and the wall behind her though –
but man did it feel good. I did note that there wasn't even a notable
effect on her; I fired the gun and she simply stared like I was
popping a firecracker.</div>
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I caught myself
shaking as I ejected the clip. Jump just raised an eyebrow as I sat
down. “Feel better now?” she said with a smile. The kind of smile
you give someone after they finally confess some secret.</div>
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I could have easily
been diplomatic and bit my tongue. On the other hand, this was
building up for like five years.</div>
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So screw it, I gave
her a piece of my mind.</div>
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“Oh that's fine
other than the facts that psycho machine monsters have been trying to
kill me since I got here, me being tangled up in bureaucratic red
tape and kissing executive ass just to make sure we have better ways
to kill said psycho machine monsters, every single person I talk to
treats me like I'm some escaped mental patient, after spending half a
decade in a galaxy full of wonderful people the one person I decide
to be physically intimate with turns out to be a space succubus and,
oh yeah, I miss having a fucking penis!” I threw my pistol at
Jump's face for emphasis and got into her face, not even caring that
the pistol went through her like air.</div>
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“Do you have any
idea how ridiculous it is to sit down to pee every single goddamn
time!? Hell, do you know how annoying it is to have to parade around
in a backless dress knowing that every single person there is
thinking of doing it with you!? Pigs every single one of them! How do
asari- hell how do women in general deal with this shit!? And the
high heels! Why wear them? So you can show off how good you look!?
Why would you want to when all you're going to get is more predatory
looks like you're a rack of lamb or whatever!? Hell it would just
make you a bigger target for aforementioned space succubi!”</div>
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Jump opened her
mouth to speak but I cut her off swiftly.</div>
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“And I know damn
well what you're going to say! I didn't have to wear that stuff!
Different culture, different species! You don't think I don't know
that!? I had to wear that stuff cuz I needed backers! And investors
like to think they're taking advantage of an idiot! And what's a
bigger looking idiot than some inexperienced ex-criminal that is
trying too hard to use sex appeal!? Every single party dealing with
some hotshot or whatever staring at my tits thinking he was going to
take me for a ride meant more product getting out there! Cuz the
joke's on them! I don't care about my bottom line! I care about
stopping the Reapers! Because apparently in my enthusiasm for wanting
to be a part of this world I forgot I'm not fucking Commander Shepard
who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter because he was
a fucking war hero for a couple decades before the fact so I had to
scramble this shit together!”</div>
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My throat was
burning with pain, my entire body was shaking with fury and I could
feel my vocal chords clutch up. I didn't care if I was going to go
mute for a while. It was totally worth it.</div>
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Then Garrus ran into
my room, assault rifle readied and eyes wide with panic. An instant
later he relaxed, looking towards me. Clearly he was expecting a
group of cutthroats being terrorized by the infamous Blue Bitch, not
an asari in sweatpants and a sports bra towering over her mattress
with a manic look in her eye.</div>
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“Variza, you do
realize being on a covert mission is the last place you want to yell
your head off right?” His tone was cold and critical. “If someone
seriously wanted you dead, there are at least three sniper nests that
could have taken you out using your little outburst as cover.”</div>
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I motioned towards
Jump and gave him a leading look. He turned to look at Jump. Except
he just... looked past her. Like she was a hologram or an optical
illusion.</div>
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“Look, I get it,”
he sighed. “These past few years have been nuts, and I've noticed
that a certain somebody hasn't been scheduling some much needed
medical appointments.”</div>
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“I'm as fit as
ever and why aren't you addressing the woman on the bed?”</div>
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Garrus did a double
take to the bed then back to me. “I meant your mental health,
Variza. From the sound of it, you need it. Now excuse me, some of us
are actually trying to sleep.” Then he left, closing the door
behind me firmly.</div>
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Jump bowed her head
knowingly, handing me my pistol like it was a squirt gun. I took a
deep breath and counted to ten. I then got up and holstered my pistol
to my full suit of armor hanging on the wall nearby.</div>
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“Well, now that
we've established that no one else can see you and everyone else can
hear me having one-way conversations to the point of possible
institutionalization, let me try to ask this following question
without screaming.” I clenched my fists several times and tried
keeping my voice as level as possible. “What in the name of Zeus's
butthole are you doing here?”</div>
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<br />Right in front
of my eyes a party hat and a noisemaker materialized on Jump's
person. Several pops happened around me and I was showered in
colorful confetti.</div>
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“Congratulations!”
She declared as loud as possible. Then concert band music blasted
throughout the room playing “For He's A Jolly Good Fellow” in
total zeal. I shuddered at the sudden change in music and tucked my
head down on reflex. Darting my head left and right expecting another
noise complaint from Garrus – even though I knew in some small way
he wouldn't hear it – I looked up and asked the burning question:
congratulations for what?</div>
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“For hitting the
ninety-sixth percentile of Jumpers.” She cheered, suddenly in a
bubbly cheerleader outfit, pom-poms and all, spelling out the letters
nine and six over and over... somehow, and bouncing on the remains of
the mattress like it was a trampoline. The fanfare carried on,
undaunted.</div>
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“Will you stop
that!?” I barked. The band stopped playing immediately, save for an
errant tuba choking out an amusing off-key squeal. Sorry Garrus, my
tolerance for impromptu small room parades is very low. In another
instant, she was back on the mattress, returned to her sultry lady of
the night look.</div>
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“First of all,
there have been other... what did you call them Jumpers?” Jump
nodded. “Alright. There have been other Jumpers? And second, why is
that so important?”</div>
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“To your first
question, yes. Yes there have.” Her tone was frank. “Hate to pop
your bubble sport but just being a Jumper isn't special. You think I
pick and choose some special little round peg in square hole and let
them go on cool adventures? That would be silly and boring. I don't
do bored.” That last part she said like a spoiled kid stuck in a
waiting room. The look she added to it on the other hand was quite
sinister.</div>
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“So the
ninety-sixth percentile thing is special why?”
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“The other
ninety-five percent have died at this point.” She said with a
smile. “Dead. Returned home. With nothing. On their first Jump.”</div>
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I was trying to
think on the positive side of things. That I was alive and apparently
part of a certain elite. But instead it felt like there was a rock in
my stomach.</div>
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“May I ask how?”</div>
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“Oh a variety of
reasons. Some couldn't cope with the actual world's rules and got in
over their head. Some of them are your standard armchair atheists who
think they can “logic” the world into serving them and they got
shot in the face. Some just can't handle the change in technology or
time period and make things worse for them. Some kind of forget that
the world is more than just the media it was presented in. There was
a guy who thought he could win an entire war in space by getting a
certain weapon and power armor. He went AWOL after being court
martialed for breaking that world's version of the Geneva Conventions
and he was gunned down. It was hilarious.” Jump laughed.</div>
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Considering that
what I was left with in this world isn't too far off from that poor
soul I felt the rock in my stomach get bigger and spikier.
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“Which of course
leads me to you and your cute blue mammaries.” she teased. I barely
fought the impulse to slap her across the face, instead I just
crossed my arms.</div>
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“Honestly I wasn't
expecting much. A bunch of money, some futuristic weapons, and some
healing items just in case you got a boo boo, and choosing a race
dependent entirely on maximum combat efficiency instead of wanting to
see how the other way lives. So standard for a video game, so limited
for a decade of life, wouldn't you say?” I looked away from her,
trying to hide the sting of her words.</div>
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“Yeah, not gonna
lie, I was expecting you to die on Purgatory Station.” she added
callously. I immediately bit my tongue. She was right on that count.
“But here you are. Five years strong, the head of your own
financially floundering weapon company, actually got out of your
bubble a bit and made some friends, and you got the ball rolling a
bit early on the whole Reaper thing. Good job.”</div>
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“Well I knew they
were coming and had an idea of what could be done to prevent it and I
gave it a shot. You know, the whole “would you kill Hitler”
thing?” I retorted.</div>
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But something else
started bothering me in the back of my mind. The idea that I was
being sleighted by Jump crept in and sat in my consciousness.</div>
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“Wait a minute...
that's why you didn't fully explain anything before at the tavern.”
I breathed.</div>
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“Ah. So I didn't.
Yeah my bad.” She waved her hand dismissively.</div>
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“So all you heard
out of me was I liked this world, a particular race in it and the
battles in it and assumed I was just another adrenaline junkie
looking for some consequence-free escapism?” I could feel my blood
boil and my voice rising despite the protesting of my shredded vocal
cords.</div>
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“A junkie that
read a book once but that's about it.”</div>
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I started to get up
and began taking some deep breaths again. I swear to god if I bit my
tongue any further I'd bleed to death.</div>
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But then Jump got up
and put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a look of...dare I say
it... sympathy.</div>
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“But you know
what? I was wrong, and I'm sorry.” her tone comforting. And like a
balloon getting deflated, most of my anger left me. I didn't want to
speculate as to why but her expression seemed as genuine as I'd seen
out of Jump.</div>
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“That's another
reason why I'm here. I'm going to be a bit more upfront with you now,
since you're officially head and shoulders above the rest. So how
about we go into your warehouse and we can talk in better company.”</div>
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My warehouse? I felt
around in my sweatpants pockets and felt the old simple key still
there. I never bothered to use it on any door. I was too busy
establishing my cover as Variza T'Som that I completely forgot about
that resource at my disposal. Shit.</div>
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“Wow. I know I
said I was going to be nicer but...” Jump bit down on her fingers
and looked away, her face scrunched up. “You haven't done anything
to your warehouse?! Oh my goodness that is hilarious!” Raucous
canned laughter filled the small room, mixed with Jump finally losing
it, turning her back to me and holding her sides.</div>
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“You gonna keep
laughing at me or are you gonna put your money where your mouth is?”
I said as flat and deadpan as I could muster through clenched teeth.</div>
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She exhaled sharply
and with a quick motion fished my key out of my pocket.</div>
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“Alright fine,
when did you lose your sense of humor?” she began miming the act of
opening a door in the threshold.</div>
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“Somewhere between
going to jail and surviving death by Ardat Yakshi snu-snu.”</div>
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Jump flashed me a
quick smile, then her profile became silhouette by a blinding light
from the threshold. As my eyes adjusted I saw a large industrial
looking storage facility. It looked to be at least twenty-thousand
square feet in area and was lit by simple florescent bulbs,
highlighting a simple yet dull concrete floor. There were no windows
on the simple off white painted walls and there appeared to be no
other doors going in.</div>
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Jump stepped inside
and motioned for me to follow.</div>
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“So...you were
being literal when you said it was a warehouse.” I smiled.</div>
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“The Cosmic
Warehouse my dear Jumper, and it will be where you can keep any
useful items or vehicles you get along the way. It's also a place
where you can rest in more...conventional accoutrements.” She
gestured at the last statement towards...my home.</div>
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My simple single
floor house that I have spent most of my life was right there, sans
the drive-way and front lawn. Like an asari possessed I ran to the
front door and opened it. The living room exactly as it was with its
red floor carpeting, floral print love seat, light green couch and
simple beige rocking chair, all tied together by a flat screen
television on the plain white wall. I wandered through the rest of
the rooms trying to see if everything was here. It mostly was. No
computer or internet network set-up, and the television in question
had no cable box. Other than that. It felt like home.</div>
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After discovering
that the kitchen was full of regular twenty-first century drinks and
snacks I flopped on the couch after cracking open a can of Coca Cola
and drinking deeply. That rich sugaring carbonated teeth rotting
taste, how I missed it. Jump was sitting on the love seat opposite, a
genuine smile on her face.</div>
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“So does this make
up for the bad first impression?” Jump asked.</div>
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I looked around for
a while, drinking in just how much of this simple place of warmth I
missed so badly. Five years away from here... I felt my eyes start to
tear up a bit but fought them back.</div>
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“It's a start.”</div>
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The next three days
waiting for Aria to arrange my meeting with Kasumi went by relatively
fast. Not because of the Queen of Omega's hospitality or the cheerful
disposition of a space station at the farthest reaches of the galaxy
full of unpredictable criminals, lowlifes, and downtrodden homeless,
but because of the renovations I was doing in my Warehouse.</div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thanks to dipping
into my trust fund a bit I was able to purchase a brand new Kodiak
shuttle from a local merchant, was even able to get him to rip out some manual shut off stuff since he knew me by reputation, and through Jump's instructions I was able to fly it inside
no problem. Cash upfront, non traceable. Then after window shopping for several top of the line
examples of certain medical facilities and inventory management
software, I was able to work with Jump to get a working medbay and
storage terminal in the warehouse as well. Garrus was ignorant of
these proceedings, if he wasn't accessing an extranet terminal for
private conversations, he was cleaning his rifles and tweaking their
sights. Considering how expensive such transmissions are in the
Terminus Systems I had to assume he was updating Shepard on our
progress.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The meeting at
Afterlife could best be described as cheerfully hostile. Aria closed
down the club so no scantily clad asari dancers or EDM pulsing
through the building. We were searched and stripped of our weapons,
and when the crates finally arrived full of my payment to the
criminal queen, I had to witness her and several trusted grunts open
them up, examine and test them. You don't become the head of Omega by
being a fool after all.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We were then seated
at a booth and told to wait. It was a relatively uncomfortable thirty
minutes. Garrus and I didn't even try small talk, we really didn't
have too much in common anyway.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then a profile of a
woman materialized in front of us, winking into existence as a high
pitched whine quickly died down to nothing, a slight discharge of
energy flying off of the bent light around her. Kasumi Goto, one of
the greatest thieves in the galaxy had revealed herself. She was a
bit on the short side, though her lightly plated catsuit left little
to the imagination. Her figure was lithe and built for absolute
dextrous movement, the kind catburglars wish they had. Her face was
partially hidden behind a cloth hood, making it difficult to get a
look at any more distinct facial features. Aside from her lower lip
marked with a simple purple square of lip gloss, she had no real
defining physical characteristics. Simply put, she was a
professional, but one that enjoyed a bit of a personal touch.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8q64RmFtLQx5ytz9pDR9eX_wM44Dt07LmSyP99zc-5N6ca7FaY_JJC7jJ_4Hlk_qU_HJxCV9KoHkFL2FIjZcgdzKUkP_mK1eAvUHpok9HLqSQxp7CttqokNxhBp0OkI7tw6Iz4rwG9ew/s1600/Mass+Effect+Kasumi+Goto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="900" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8q64RmFtLQx5ytz9pDR9eX_wM44Dt07LmSyP99zc-5N6ca7FaY_JJC7jJ_4Hlk_qU_HJxCV9KoHkFL2FIjZcgdzKUkP_mK1eAvUHpok9HLqSQxp7CttqokNxhBp0OkI7tw6Iz4rwG9ew/s320/Mass+Effect+Kasumi+Goto.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Miss Variza T'Som
I take it?” her voice was light and playful, a smirk accompanying
it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And by your
appearance you must be Kasumi Goto.” I bowed my head in greeting.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm flattered.”
her smile brightened, though I noticed movement in her eyes. Looking
for possible exit and ambush points no doubt. “So tell me why do I
have the pleasure of speaking to the kind of people I wind up
stealing from?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I looked around at
Aria's entourage and saw they kept putting their fingers to some ear
pieces, clearly keeping Aria abreast of our proceedings. I couldn't
have her people get involved, it would lead to more complicated
matters with me and her, which would mean a larger paper trail
leading back to my company breaking the shaky edifice of success I
was trying to keep up.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I activated a data
pad and slid it across the table towards her, quirking my eyebrows.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After an uneasy bout
of silence, Kasumi looked up from the data pad.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, I agree.
I will undertake this mission. On one condition. The payment offered
by Aria T'loak for my time here I shall redeem now.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Which was?” The
rock in my stomach that vanished three days ago apparently had a
litter of pebbles.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Your assistance
in a heist I am undertaking. That's all.” Her smile now mixed with
a twinge of inquisitiveness.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh thank goodness.
Another chance to slap on some armor, load up some guns, and help a
master thief plunder some poor soul. The spy thriller I've been
waiting for.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And if I disagree
I'll be shot on sight?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Either that or
she'll 'find a way to make you regret it for the rest of your life'
as she said.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well then, guess
I'm in. Whose the mark and how are we going to get it?” I asked, a
bit too giddy at the prospect of doing a heist.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have a plan for
those already. The bigger question is what size dress are you? I need
to know so we can coordinate for our date.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I blinked several
times.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-14351529066857434382017-09-15T23:26:00.000-07:002017-10-11T18:23:41.751-07:00State of the Tavern <div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Cybertavern patrons,
As you may have noticed, my posts on this blog have slowed down to a
rather embarassing degree. Time to address this!</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Chapter 19 of
Multiverse Desperado hasn't gone up despite it basically being
halfway done. And no, it isn't the daunting task of basically telling
a massive multimedia crossover narrative, I have things at least two
Jumps ahead in advance and got some surprises in store.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Animation Deviation
was supposed to come back, but has been dead since the time I talked
about Re: Zero months ago. In fact two of the ones planned was for
Season 4 of Bojack Horseman and my very first impressions of what
many consider to be the trendsetting “person trapped in a video
game” series .hack//SIGN.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And Sidequest Corner
has basically turned into a Game Industry Current Events Hot Take
column. Griping about a book that is getting made into a movie that I
think is overrated. Talking about DLC practices, etc.. It's gotten to
the point where the very rules I set up for the column have basically
become meaningless.<br />
<br />
As for my Friday night streams on Twitch,
aside from some nights where I get an advanced copy from a studio for
streaming purposes, like for example me getting<i> Dishonored: Death of
the Outsider</i> an entire month early to show it off, it's basically a
ghost town of me just playing through old stuff no one cares about.
Because all streaming channels are chasing after trends and, failing
that, propagating hurtful and anti-semitic rhetoric to a large and
impressionable audience that will defend them to no end because of
their stupendously large charisma. As well as an informal bordering
on non-existent form of press quality control on the streaming
community that is becoming more and more problematic that it's
leading to major studios bringing such terrible behavior to a head,
destroying the notion of YouTube personalities as the Wild West of
game coverage and criticism as we know it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But this is not a
resignation of my post here at the Cybertavern. Of course it can't
be, I've put a lot of work into my prose here, and if you haven't
noticed, I appreciate me some good prose.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is more a
re-assessment of my dedication to various staples I have here. Why
such a change? Because from September til December I am going to be
busy as hell. Major game releases are coming out of the pipes and in
addition to putting the time aside to play usually large experiences
and then expressing my thoughts in a digestible manner to a
readership, I have an entire staff of writers that I need to keep on
point as well. Not to mention working with various other sectors of
the site to figure out the best means to cover the latest AAA
releases, developer interviews, PR outreach and a bunch of other
boring and meticulous behind-the-scenes elements that goes into
actually doing this stuff.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Seriously though, in
October I will be attending the local Save Against Fear convention
and there will be pics and prose and it will be glorious and
life-affirming, I can just freaking tell.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which means a lot of
the more rapidfire stuff I've been cranking out here will go on the
way side.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
First and foremost:</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Multiverse Desperado
will be coming out once every two weeks starting now. It's a giant
stress ball of nerd crazy and I love it to death, the last thing I
want to do is see it die on the grapevine.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Animation Deviation
will be once a month. Yes, the first one will be about Bojack
Horseman Season 4 and the series as a whole. I just wrapped it up and
it is fresh in my head.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sidequest Corner
will be suspended indefinitely until things slow down. If I write
about game related stuff here, it means creative energy will not be
going into The Game Fanatics, and that's just not good form.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I hope you all
understand these changes and stay tuned next Monday for Chapter 19
and for other more minor posts I will attempt to sprinkle throughout.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-32909362578091202112017-08-28T15:23:00.000-07:002017-08-28T15:23:16.259-07:00Multiverse Desperado: A JumpChain Fiction Chapter 18<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s1600/Multiverse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5fFUNjMDUNCGVh6XJ9xY2a1rrhVo88uXY64cdjdqbLIlIlfCegKHK8_QdGU9jOMPnENL0IEls_74yeKWGOWyxHCqhiU84JOTCw2oW9-DbprFK4hfPVOgl6inslZn8cw5hJjXyHObyrs/s320/Multiverse.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 18: The Scientist Salarian</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span> </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The elevator opened,
revealing the full extent of the damage done by the plague wracking
Omega Station. Garrus and I donned our helmets and activated our
hermetic seals. Better safe than sorry. With confidence we made our
way towards the Quarantine Zone.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As quickly as we
could we dropped the phrase Aria gave us to the guards and slipped
through, making our way towards the makeshift medical facility among
the sick and bodybags.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I stepped through
the threshold to meet Mordin Solus, ready to shake his hand and start
explaining what was going on. That is, I would have if he even
formally addressed the fact he had guests. The salarian was pouring
over a work desk full of samples, test tubes and beakers, scanning
over the whole thing with his Omni-Tool and making several
adjustments to multiple instruments scattered across his immediate
area while mumbling to himself. He also looked like he hadn't slept
in a few days.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Perhaps this
vaccine? No. Would make Batarians blind and leave human males
impotent. Gas maybe? Through the air perhaps? No, no, no. Too
dangerous and too many factors. Unless, maybe if I- yes! Yes!” He
finally exclaimed as several instruments started glowing green and
chiming. He shot upright, his face triumphant and his eyes slammed
shut, clearly drinking in his scientific victory and not seeing the
two armored individuals standing in front of him.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT92BlFYhLwrvGDaRSqS7_087Bjd0tYY1PJrwXlx87lNB2U9nVgBK-pMH_kfFygjnTvuupjc2bTkmQxzOVkLocLEDFKD-JAvumPvwstCKsULPrlXMvgeFunEwNAnNGKf3C0VXCc7qSup8/s1600/Mass+Effect+Mordin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT92BlFYhLwrvGDaRSqS7_087Bjd0tYY1PJrwXlx87lNB2U9nVgBK-pMH_kfFygjnTvuupjc2bTkmQxzOVkLocLEDFKD-JAvumPvwstCKsULPrlXMvgeFunEwNAnNGKf3C0VXCc7qSup8/s320/Mass+Effect+Mordin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He spun around and
ran to several other work zones, looking more like a college student
whipping together a Masters' project at the last second than a
scientist trying to stop a plague under duress. The singing didn't
help this illustration.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am the very
model of a scientist salaran. I've studied species turian, asari and
batarian,” He pattered, quickly punching in complex formula into a
machine while mixing together several chemical batches.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I'm quite good at
genetics as a subset of biology,” he sang on, his eyes darting back
and forth between his Omni-Tool and the device mixing and
pressurizing his sample, all with his back to us.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doctor Sol-” I
tried to interject.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Because I am an
expert which I know is a tautology.” He carried on, completely
undaunted, ignorant of the presence of others, drawing the notes out
in a melodic tenor.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My xenoscience
studies ranges from urban to agrarian,” his tone dropping an octave
and his notes going from quarters to whole.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I am the very
model of-ahh!!” He exclaimed, finally discovering he had an
audience; Garrus remaining neutral in his body language, me on the
verge of clapping.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Doctor Solus, as
much as I would love to comment on that rendition of Gilbert and
Sullivan we do wish to talk with you on an urgent matter.” I
insisted, walking over to him with a hand outstretched.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He just stared at
the armored hand in front of him, his black eyes darting all over me.
Then back to Garrus, then back to me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I slowly blinked in
disbelief.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Aria sent you.
Explains how you got past the guard. Your pistol is from T'Som
Manufacturing, which means you don't work for her. Pirate raids
deemed too risky.” Mordin muttered, speaking so fast I only
registered half of what he was saying until after he finished
speaking.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He took a quick
breath, then gave me a wide smile. “Which means you must be here to
help with plague cure.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I took advantage and
forcefully gave him the handshake he was holding out on giving me.
“You got that right. And I may just know who devised this thing to
begin with.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“One problem at a
time.” he let go of my hand and turned back to his labs. “The
cure is ready, but we need to reach the ventilation systems further
down to distribute it. Criminal element too extreme, unfettered. Too
many factors.” He took a beat to catch a breath. “Will need your
help.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Glad to give it,
doctor.” I responded with zeal.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's all I
needed to hear.” Mordin exclaimed as he reached into a nearby
footlocker, pulling out an SMG, a handful of thermal clips, a helmet
designed to fit his unusual salarian head, and a small shield
generator module. He loaded up the SMG with rote familiarity, put his
bucket on, and slotted the module into his suit, a quick distortion
of the air around him and the faint smell of ozone the only
indication that it was now live.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“A geneticist and
a trained gunman? Something tells me he's going to get along famously
with the others.” Garrus glibbed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We traveled further
into Omega's bowels in almost complete silence, the harsh red lights,
industrial sounds and unfeeling sheet metal being more lively than
any attempts at conversation....</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
At least until we
hit the third elevator reaching the atmospheric circulation area and
I decided to finally rip the band aid off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“So care to talk
about how you helped sterlized the Krogan, Doctor Solus?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I began to feel
Garrus' stare burn through my helmet along with his armored hand
ready to punch me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It was
necessary.” Mordin replied tersely.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The comment slowed
Garrus' hand and took his gaze off of me.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That's a bit of a
bold statement to justify such an act.” Garrus chimed in. “The
turian Primarch and military were of a retaliatory mind against the
krogan, wanted to use it in response to their rampant expansion,
while the Salarians were thinking more long-term. Yet you said it was
necessary without hesitation?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“It was simple.
Krogan given opportunity to breed, given privileges on Council.
Reward for fighting in Rachni Wars. But krogan population too
unwieldy, unwilling to negotiate. War inevitable. Famine. Loss of
resources. Then rebellions began. Genophage would keep numbers in
check. For the good of the galaxy.” He grabbed another short
breath. “Had to be done.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The ends justify
the means.” I replied. “A very easy response to be made when
we're talking about events that happens hundreds of years ago. I was
referring to the new Genophage strain you developed recently.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If Mordin was
shocked at this bit of insider knowledge he didn't show it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a few beats
where we could hear a pin drop he spoke again.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“During routine
evaluation of krogan specimens there was a possibility that they were
developing a resistance to the Genophage. Adapting. All work would
have been for nothing. My team and I had to develop new strain,
suppress threat of new rebellions. Once again. Had to be done.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I readjusted my
gauntlets and double checked the settings on my pistol as the
elevator doors opened.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Whatever helps
you sleep at night doctor. But the way I see it, the crimes
themselves aren't where the nightmares come from, it's the lies you
tell to make them seem right.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Poetic, but not
applicable. It was a solution to a problem, nothing more.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Pretty easy to
say when that problem isn't staring you in the face.” Garrus
interjected.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The doors opened to
reveal several major problems aiming guns at our faces. Bullets
rained down on the threshold, ripping and warping the metal frame of
the door. Adrenaline rushed through and in a roar of effort, I
erupted an energy shield to disrupt the gun fire.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipA-76Zi4Z_5BVa0wigWO8Da8lsazCHdH797HGmSxSt-ImS-fBxrSqCn8SFG4jJc_LobmbtMLPYbWOfkFy9RafMVZX47bjmFhLXB3P38dNFCgAIjMbFDlK7tiznKPqyZdDiLIxg2jmmgE/s1600/Mass+Effect+Vorcha.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipA-76Zi4Z_5BVa0wigWO8Da8lsazCHdH797HGmSxSt-ImS-fBxrSqCn8SFG4jJc_LobmbtMLPYbWOfkFy9RafMVZX47bjmFhLXB3P38dNFCgAIjMbFDlK7tiznKPqyZdDiLIxg2jmmgE/s320/Mass+Effect+Vorcha.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Whoever these people
are, they chose a good place for an ambush. The entire room was a
giant open expanse, any chunks of cinderblock or large metal pipes
that could feasibly be used as improvised cover were either destroyed
or occupied by our armored and masked assailants. To make matters
worse, there was even a squad on a catwalk above their improvised row
of death.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Break their
height advantage!” Garrus yelled, slotting in something into his
assault rifle and aiming at the catwalk, firing in short concentrated
bursts.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was barely hanging
on where I was, my eezo reserves emptying into my improvised defense,
sweat beading on my forehead.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Integrity of walk
is weakest at center! Enough force should break it!” Mordin yelled,
holding out his Omni-Tool as an orange streak of flame came and
struck several of the attackers up top, their armor catching fire and
the people inside losing their collective cool.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had to think fast.
If I kept putting the shield up, I'd be a sitting duck. Garrus might
be a crackshot, but even he has his limits. As for Mordin, his SMG is
useless at this distance and that incendiary charge from his tool
wasn't exactly something you could do nonstop.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which meant I had to
take another gamble and pray that my armor is as tough as those
ass-kissing “partners” back on Thessia told me it was.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I began channeling
as much of my power as I could, my arms flaring up in gooseflesh as I
called upon more and more telekinetic force. Then I took full
advantage of the power of a mass effect field and propelled myself at
the speed of a bullet towards a poor soul on the walkway, funneling
the remains of my shield into a battering ram.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It all happened in a
frightful second. One moment I was pinned down by a bunch of armed
mercs, then in a deafening roar I was on their catwalk with my arm
going through the final movements of a sucker punch, my target flying
through the air with his helmet shattered to pieces. I didn't have
time to see his body hit the ground as I dropped to a firing stance
and drew my pistol, taking advantage of the element of surprise. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With
several well placed shots, my Inquisitor pistol shredded past the
remaining three mercs' shields and punched through their helmets like
tissue paper. I efficiently ejected the spent thermal clip from my
pistol then moved to the center of the catwalk and called upon my
biotic power one more time. I compressed as much of the lawbreaking
energy as I could into my arm, then with a savage blow I struck the
support structure of the bridge. The old, unkept metal began to gave
way, preparing to rain down upon the bewildered firing squad below.
Before the last of my ground gave way, I leapt off the catwalk to
land behind their firing line, activating a burst of power to slow my
descent, and in an elegant mid-air turn, returned to face my would-be
executioners with my Locust SMG readied. </div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If any of then had enough
sense to turn and run away from several hundred pounds of industrial
debris, they were about to get a face automatic gunfire. Two of them
did, they went down before the last bits of guardrail rang out
through the cavernous chamber.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Is that enough
force for you?” I panted, sliding another thermal clip into my
pistol.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sufficient, yes.
Quite effective.” Mordin replied with amusement.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Spirits,”
Garrus said, looking at the results of my unfettered assault, “remind
me never to get on your bad side.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I quickly dropped to
my knees and tried to catch my breath. My endurance has at least
gotten better in the past two years. But it was when I ventured a
look at one of the bodies that I realized something was wrong.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Mordin...when
exactly did the people in Omega started using guns covered in
chitin?”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJ9aNScU_KyClVpy4feaSm5yvayjkYNIdF74ZsjPtmNNMKaulwRZRnpkJpyBOVCHtKum9TTfmrd6dOXITpYuHmA2oae8j80o4W-VEk8_eEbzDX3EicreJiaUHLjp401MZ5sagsEUrDCA/s1600/Mass+Effect+Collector+Rifle.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="512" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJ9aNScU_KyClVpy4feaSm5yvayjkYNIdF74ZsjPtmNNMKaulwRZRnpkJpyBOVCHtKum9TTfmrd6dOXITpYuHmA2oae8j80o4W-VEk8_eEbzDX3EicreJiaUHLjp401MZ5sagsEUrDCA/s320/Mass+Effect+Collector+Rifle.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“They don't. It
appears to be...” he performed a quick scan, “ as suspected.
Collector tech. Makes sense. The plague holds signs of Collector
origin. Must have left allies nearby to ensure it spreads throughout
station.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That also raises
another question.” Garrus mused while taking a closer look at the
armor worn by the corpses. “Usually the lower levels are covered
with gangs of Vorcha and varren attack dogs, striking in quick and
harsh ambushes of shotguns, teeth and claws. This was much more
disciplined for such simple-minded folk.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A cold shiver went
down my back as I remembered how things have gotten worse since I
arrived. I didn't want to tempt fate any more than I have already.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We can speculate
once we get this cure pumping through these vents.” I readied my
pistol while Mordin followed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The following few
minutes actually resembled normal, giant pile bodies and the smell of
burning space fiberglass notwithstanding. We started introducing the
cure into the atmospheric pumps and, thanks in no small part to
Garrus' technical acumen, we were able to re-activate the fans. If
the Collectors were planning on wiping out Omega Station to use as a
base of operations for their Reaper overlords, it failed.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then some gunfire
ripped through my shields and punched me hard in the spine. I dropped
to a knee and pivoted with my pistol at the ready, firing off one or
two hip shots in the direction of my attacker. But that attacker in
question wasn't a new threat. It was one of the bodies from before, I
could tell because he was still wearing the shredded remains of the
helmet I punched to hell and his right arm was jutted out at a wrong
angle.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You cannot
prevent this.” The mangled assailant spoke with a distorted
unnatural timbre. His arm began to pop back into place with several
sickening cracks.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“The Collectors
are preparing you for your next stage of evolution.” He raised his
Collector rifle, it beginning to glow with an energy we didn't see
used before. “A future that has no place for unknowns such as
yourself, Variza T'Som.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
His use of my name
forced me to look into the bloodshot eye peering behind the
half-helmet, and it wasn't a face I wanted to remember. Underneath
was the distinctly stretched and warped sinew of a Vorcha, except
wrapped in a cocoon of cybernetic enhancements. Vorcha have short
life spans of maybe twenty years but they have a regeneration and
adaptation factor that rival the krogan. Looks like the Reapers
decided to hijack that to make some discounted super soldiers.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Prepare
yourselves for their arrival, as we purge those that resist this
inevita-” the cybervorcha's evil monologue was cut off by a hail of
flame erupting from his exposed face. He dropped his rifle in pain as
the flames continued to spread into the rest of his body under the
suit, smoke pouring from it like a demented kiln. I looked over my
shoulder to see Mordin holding his SMG, the barrel glowing white hot
red from the use of incendiary rounds.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then the dropped
rifle expelled a large beam of green energy across the wall, tearing
chunks out of it with the ease of a missile assault.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Get back to the
elevator!” Mordin exclaimed. He didn't have to tell me twice. I ran
for it at a dead sprint, trying not to think about the shifting of
rubble, the oncoming reanimation of the vorchadroids. I didn't stop
until I hit the back the elevator, panting heavily. As I turned
around I saw Mordin and Garrus closely behind, a giant fireball
erupting behind them.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Okay, I didn't see
that coming.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In my stunned state
Garrus hit several buttons on the display. The doors closed, the
elevator rose, and we were safe.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Alright, whose
idea was it to go full action-hero back there?” I finally managed
to gasp out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“My idea.”
Mordin replied. “Vorcha regeneration robust but makes them
vulnerable to severe burns to their muscle tissue. Enough acclerant
is applied and they become quite flammable. Or inflammable. Forget
which. Doesn't matter.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I couldn't help but
chuckle. In this one instance, I was okay with the ends justifying
the explosions.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The rest of the day
played out in fastforward. Garrus and I gave Mordin a briefing about
his mission. How the Collectors were tied to the vanishing of human
colonies, and how it is towards some unknown project for the Reapers.
Using his engineering and genetic know-how, he would be integral to
figuring out how the Collector's have been causing thousands of
people to vanish overnight and protecting Shepard's team from any
other biological based attack. After discovering how large of a
threat the Reapers were to the galaxy, Mordin gladly accepted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then came the
waiting for the other shoe to drop: the arrival of Kasumi Goto and
the rendezvous. I couldn't sleep that night, and it wasn't because I
was afraid we were gonna get shot. Aria's word might as well be law
on Omega, and I managed to play out of my depth well enough to make
her overlook any direct retaliation. But it was just how serious
things had become. No matter how much I try to help against the
threat of the Reapers, it's almost as if they are one step ahead of
me the entire time. Becoming more bold, harsh, and far-reaching with
their tactics and methods than anything I experienced before in front
of a computer screen.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I splashed some
water in my face and returned to the pitiful mattress that was my
bedroom. Except I had company. A very familiar looking woman in an
alluring black dress with the smile of someone who just got away with
a practical joke.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Having fun, yet?”
Jump said coyly.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I pulled out my
pistol without hesitation and fired at her several times.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-73944293223592227262017-08-27T14:00:00.000-07:002017-08-28T15:21:50.611-07:00Sidequest Corner: Remembering Sonic The Hedgehog<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, I am still
alive.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, I am still
typing my other stuff.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, I have been
busy with a few other projects to the point where I can't keep this
blog updated with a bunch of cutesy-poo “sorry too busy check back
later” nonsense.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So what exactly has
been holding me up? Well a combination of being on The Game Fanatics
Live show on Twitch, writing several opinion pieces and reviews on
stuff like <a href="https://thegamefanatics.com/tacoma-diversity-and-the-future/"><i>Tacoma</i></a>,
<a href="https://thegamefanatics.com/agents-mayhem-review-sons-saints/"><i>Agents
of Mayhem</i></a>, and <a href="https://thegamefanatics.com/batman-the-enemy-within-episode-one-impressions/">Telltale's
<i>Batman: The Enemy Within</i></a>, and trying to play through the
forty hour monster that is <i>Yakuza Kiwami</i> for review, which <a href="https://thegamefanatics.com/yakuza-kiwami-review-welcome-kamurocho/">you
can read here</a>.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't worry, things
should hopefully even out soon. Hopefully.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But you know what?
This week has been a topic extravaganza so let's crank out a quick
Sidequest Corner.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Undertale came out
on consoles, but I really can't say anything else about that game
other than it is still a fantastic breakout hit for Toby Fox and one
of the greatest RPGs to have come out in recent memory hampered by a
fanbase that is hitting Annie Wilkes levels of obsessive.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is a lot of
discussion to be had by <i>Agents of Mayhem's</i> critical reception
in how it does or doesn't adhere to the original series it has been
spun off from. My review speaks for itself but to summarize: <i>Saint's
Row 4</i> jumped the shark, nothing was going to top its audacious
satire and spectacle, Volition made the right call scaling things
back with something in the same spirit but with more manageable
stakes and scale.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And of course there
is yet another dreary Sonic the Hedgehog game cranked out by Sega. Of
course! Finally something I can get all angry about and justify my
nerd cred as a Nintendo elitist from the 90s! So what bloated,
overdesigned monstrosity have they decided to call the “brand new
direction” for a series that crashed and burned and is still going
in a farcical tumble down a mountain side?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/VYQNnrccbj8/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VYQNnrccbj8?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
….what the hell?
That looks....fun. Like legitimately fun. Who the hell forgot to give
Sonic Team their pills?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It wasn't made by
Sonic Team? It was a fan creation by Christian Whitehead and his team
of programmers and designers who originally set out to make a remixed
version of the first Sonic game and instead of Sega shutting down the
fan project they gave them full access to the original assets and
helped them make a full on proper installment?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sega... are you
feeling alright?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also, what the hell
took you this long? Furthermore, why the hell are you making me care
about a character and franchise that has been my sworn enemy since my
very childhood!?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yes, I was a child
of the 90s and I bled Nintendo grey.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Quick aside, how
come 80s kids get to be called Baby Boomers and early 2000s kids get
to be called Millenials but we just get to be called 90s kids? Makes
me feel a bit left out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyway, my flag was
completely planted in Nintendo territory. Super Mario Bros was my
absolute jam. It was my cousin who had a Sega Genesis and played
Sonic the Hedgehog, and we were in that sibling rivalry phase. She
was older and teased me, I was young and innocent. But it was through
those occasional visits that I do remember playing Sonic, and in that
particular context I was a little bit jealous. It was cool to see so
much complex sprites and visual effects flying around, plus seeing
the Blue Blur zip through loop de loops made it seem much more
exciting than boring old Mario moving at a snail's pace.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_91Is1W1EnlXOop3eeOKU3l1Een6wOSWuF7GsY4_95jp5d8vM4mrj3wOQc9NJPzud-L1WbBPoH2D1Fa1EmwXPuABP3BIqQztGrEB_QlvjjzDNPZxk0-xr5N23i1u-O7kkIrM4MF1dK8/s1600/Sonic+The+Hedgehog+Loop+De+Loop+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_91Is1W1EnlXOop3eeOKU3l1Een6wOSWuF7GsY4_95jp5d8vM4mrj3wOQc9NJPzud-L1WbBPoH2D1Fa1EmwXPuABP3BIqQztGrEB_QlvjjzDNPZxk0-xr5N23i1u-O7kkIrM4MF1dK8/s320/Sonic+The+Hedgehog+Loop+De+Loop+Gif.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I got older and
kept things going Nintendo strong. Picked up an N64, played Super
Mario 64, went to elementary school, and life moved on. Sega dropped
out of making consoles and started making Sonic games for the rest of
the other machines out there. But I was too busy worrying about
martial arts tests, meeting cute girls, and being a neurotic
perfectionist at schoolwork while paradoxically being a lazy SOB.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet for some reason
as a media icon, he kept popping up for me. Sonic Sat AM was a show I
remember being into, I was just the right age to think that Sonic X
was an anime worth my time, and even in my adult hood, the Sonic Boom
show is surprisingly good if you treat it as a dopey animated comedy
and not an adaptation of the characters. Even when I wasn't playing
the games, Sega's mascot stayed in my head as a continuous challenge
to the house that Mario built.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then I remembered a
phase I had where I became academically curious and tried playing a
bunch of his recent games. Clearly there had to be something to
Sonic's games that made fans love him. It couldn't just be nostalgia
for the 90s platformers, could it?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After playing
through just about every 3D Sonic game out there, including spin-offs
like Shadow the Hedgehog I can conclude that is not the case. It is
nostalgia, and being utterly out of their tiny little minds.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know it's not the
hottest take but I remember pouring over these half-baked adventures
thinking there was some secret formula to the series' endurance. The
shear novelty of it being out of its comfort zone with stuff like the
multiple character perspectives in<i> Sonic Adventure</i>, or playing as the
bad guys in <i>Sonic Adventure 2</i>, or going to different interpretations
of Arabian Knights or Arthurian Adventures or turning into a wolfhog
monster or getting two different reboots to shake things up further.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Except that is
missing the forest through the trees. Mario kept it simple because it
worked, and when something new was introduced it was something simple
and was woven seamlessly into the platforming. When the most tedious
installment you have involves giving you a water-powered jetpack yet
is still a great experience, you are doing something right.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
By comparison, the
Sonic series post-Genesis has been a long case study in
half-measures. Make the game 3D but don't focus on your unique
selling point, just obfuscate it with a bunch of other features like
treasure hunting, fishing, and elaborate cutscenes. If that stops
working, chase trends like morality systems, grimdark angst, and
motion controls.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It also must be said
that the majority of the Sonic fanbase are dedicated to being part of
a sort of video game counterculture. It started off harmless enough
by saying how the franchise was pushing new ground with technology –
which Sega technically was at the time before the death of the
Dreamcast – then it got increasingly troubling with bad guys
leaning away from the wacky Dr. Eggman/Robotnik to horrendous
eldritch horrors or the soundtracks being full of tryhard hard rock.
This is to say nothing about power creep, with adventures always
ending with Sonic turning into an offbrand Super Saiyan then having
to save the galaxy or something, or the rise of Sonic OC style
fursonas.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
For the record I'm
not knocking the furry community, I co-host a podcast with one for
Pete's sake, but even that own community gives the Sonic chapter some
sideways looks.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Much like Michael
Bay did to the Transformers, the creators of this blue mascot have
been trying nonstop over twenty-five years to find some way to make
the series “cool” again by throwing every single superficial
thing possible at it. Throw in a metal soundtrack, and angry posing,
and guns, and military stuff and all of this clutter, nothing is off
the table.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nothing except going
back to the core and remembering what made it so endearing in the
first place.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which finally brings
me back to the utter punch in the face that is Sonic Mania. As much
as I could be smug in thinking that I backed the right horse over
twenty years ago, I honestly wanted Sonic to come back, to give the
plumber a run for his money. Competition makes us better and
adversity can lead to great growth, and Sega was arguably the only
company that chose to challenge Nintendo on their own turf and
actually hold their own. So to play Sonic Mania wasn't just to
experience an old friend clean himself up and start flying right, it
was seeing an old sparring buddy kick some bad habits, lace up the
gloves, go a few rounds and actually take you down a few times.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No, it wasn't
nostalgia. Once again, Mario guy. No, it wasn't just that everything
from the concept of the character to the music to the visual
direction evoked my 90s childhood. The answer was very simple. They
kept it simple. The plot? Eggman and his robots are stealing
macguffins and kidnapping animals to power more evil robots, go stop
him. Gameplay? 2D platforming with the usual springs, dash plates,
TVs full of power-ups, and rings. Level design? The simple rush of
going fast coupled with complex levels that reward using speed to
your advantage such as wall and ceiling-running, all made even more
engaging by an element of exploration thanks to hidden levels. No
heavy metal, no voice-acting, no convoluted plots. What was added?
The ability to build up a dash in mid-air and unleash it when you hit
the ground. That is it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So yes, for me,
remembering Sonic The Hedgehog is a bit complicated. He was
competition, then a curiosity, then a sad punching bag and cautionary
tale about what can happen when you don't find out that “cool”
has a shelf life. Now, for this brief moment, a glimpse of what made
this blue guy so enduring for so many people with a game that might
easily be one of my top five of the year.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now I just need to
wait for Sonic Forces to come out so he can go back to being a
punching bag again.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-57974197534247965972017-08-02T14:15:00.002-07:002017-08-02T14:15:50.846-07:00Sidequest Corner: My Thoughts on Ready Player One
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's been a while
Cybertavern patrons. You're probably wondering why I haven't posted
just about anything last week. Well I owe you an explanation.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Simply put, I had to
pull the plug for a while.</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Turn off the news,
turn off social media, and take a while to recharge my mental and
creative batteries.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And to recharge
myself there's only one thing I know to do: read some books. When you
do a lot of critical thinking about such things like animation or
gaming, it's always good to go back to the basics and enjoy the vast
plethora of imaginative and intellectually fulfilling majesty that is
the written word.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I finally finished
up Jim Butcher's first installment in his new Cinder Spires series,
<i>The Aeronaut's Windlass</i>. A swashbuckling tale of sci-fi
steampunk with giant spider monsters, airships, crazy magic users and
talking warrior cat tribes. Just silly and pulpy enough to be a fun
read.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also due to the
pending release of its cynical Hollywood mandated remake, I am
finally plunging into the 1,500 page monster that is Steven King's
<i>It</i>. The book is one hell of a slow boil, but if you want a
crash course in how much detail is enough in terms of imagery and character expression, this is a good case study. Also despite
the silliness of the made-for-TV miniseries with Tim Curry, the book
is still creepy as hell and pretty nasty with its subject matter.
Kids getting mutilated, profanity and 1980s flavored homophobia,
there's a reason why an R rating is a must for a more appropriate
adaptation of this material. I'm not even a tenth of the way through
the book but I'll keep you posted.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In terms of comics I
finally read through the entirety of Bryan Lee O' Malley's <i>Scott
Pilgrim vs. The World</i> series. I enjoyed the Edgar Wright movie
for what it was but the comics are on a whole different level. While
the movie was basically a Win The Girl story with young man-child
protagonist and a lot of video game references thrown, the comic is a
lot more nuanced. Going into detail about the entire supporting cast,
humanizing the main relationship between Scott Pilgrim and Ramona
Flowers, and following through on the biggest message that got lost
in translation: adulthood doesn't just happen overnight. In fact, you
may see me take a Jump to that world in Multiverse Desperado down the
line, assuming the Reapers of Mass Effect don't kill me of
course.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well enough beating
around the bush, it's time to get to the title of this post, my
thoughts on Ernest Cline's <i>Ready Player One</i>.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Usually on Sidequest
Corner I try to keep my posts rooted in game design or game industry
stuff, quick and brief examinations of stuff that has been on my
mind that leaves me concerned or excited for the future, but for this
post I do want to expand this to talking about gamer culture and how
it has deified this book as “The Holy Grail of Nerd Culture.”</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mostly because I
find the whole thing to be a lot of hogwash. A fantasy for a bunch of
people who spend too much time playing and not enough time broadening
their horizons. Worse still, it's pitched to people who practically
have a monopoly on other sci-fi or nerd culture stuff aimed directly
at their sensibilities.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Put the laser guns
down. Hear me out.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
First, a brief
synopsis. The book takes place in a dystopian near-future in the year
2040. Everything has gone to crap with a grabbag of factors. Low
housing, high population, corporate sleaze, pick your social poison,
it's here. But the masses have learned to cope with this crappy world
by using a mash-up of VR, social media, and gaming with a program
called The Oasis. You plug yourself into your rig, slap on the
headset, and suddenly you are the master of your own destiny. You can
hold a job there, go to school, and of course go on futuristic video
game sessions like a realistic World of Warcraft Raid or whatever.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The world is
terrible and you've been screwed over, so escape to The Oasis and
make a new life among your dreams says the book.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As for the core
conflict, the head of one of the major corporations who created The
Oasis dies and leaves an elaborate scavenger hunt in the program.
First one to find all the keys and beat all of the challenges gets
his fortune.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Guess what these
keys and challenges are based off of? 80's nerd culture. Don't worry
if you don't understand any of them though, because the protagonist
will explain every single one of them to you.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remember Monty
Python?<br /><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remember Zork?<br /><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remember Joust?</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Remember Pac-Man?
Remember He-Man? Remember Transformers? Remember Thundercats?
Remember War Games? That movie with Matthew Broderick where they play
chess against a computer? It was a really long time ago so you
probably don't.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I am not
exaggerating. That is how the author does it.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And this is where
<i>Ready Player One</i> is its most nakedly pandering. An entire
sixty years later and for the most tangential reason imaginable, the
guy who kicks the bucket being raised in the era, people are
completely enamored with 80s pop culture. The sociological primordial
ooze that gave birth to what would become gaming and nerd culture as
we know it today. After SIXTY YEARS of many developments happening in
the world – such as the rise of gamification in the work place,
literally taking the structure of ritualistic repetitive activity and
using it to help improve productivity and morale in the work place
across ALL FORMS OF LABOR to say nothing of what else could have
developed in decade's leading up to the story's present –
apparently doesn't get better than the decade that gave us cartoons
designed to get you to buy merchandise, unchecked corporate excess
full of hookers and blow, and melodic but also lyrically and
intellectually shallow rock and roll.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
From here the book
is basically an adventure quest. Main hero gets allies, starts
looking for keys, deals with rival gangs and factions, love interest
is introduced, things get intense when hero's allies get attacked in
the real world while plugged in, and it resolves when the hero wins
the prize and is told that reality is important and it should be
lived, not wasted away by living in a fantasy. A message that screams
of hypocrisy since the main hero basically became a billionaire by
wallowing in a fantasy world created by one's love of the past.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is a skeleton
of a compelling sci-fi story in this book, which is why I'm actually
interested in seeing how Steven Spielberg adapts the material, but so
much of it is destroyed by it being so utterly pleased with itself.
It doesn't just love 80s culture, it wants to emulate it, even to its
own detriment.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Think about it. The
crux of 80s pop culture was founded by the Reagan Adminstration
taking a lot of marketing restrictions off of companies so they could
go hog wild with selling entertainment and products, which was
putting more money into the economy which was fueling initiatives to
fight against the Communist threat in the Cold War. Buy Transformers,
buy the bigger meal at McDonald's, buy and consume so we can stick it
to the ruskies, it's the American Way!
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You know what else
contextualizes the mass population paying for stuff by big companies
in order to feel comfort or safety in an uncertain world? Dystopian
sci-fi stories. And in both instances, the result is usually
short-term profit but with long-term problems, be it either a housing
or job crisis down the line when the bubble pops or a rebellion by a bunch of punks who
won't take oppression anymore. This parallel is not even mentioned.</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Also, for a book
from an author that loves sci-fi and gaming culture so much, I find
it disgusting that it does not take into account various uses The
Oasis could have used to prevent the world from going to crap.
Tangential Learning, or the way you can learn various skills or ideas
by shear virtue of being introduced to them in a different context.
Games like Kerbal Space Program do a great job of expressing the
complexity of space rocket launches done by NASA for example. Yes, it
is used as an education tool, but it only seems to be for the sake of
maintaining and perpetuating the program.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is also the complete
missed opportunity of Augmented Reality Games, experiences that use
the real world as its base rather than a virtual interface. Pokemon
Go is a fantastic example of this, and not only has it been great for
getting people into healthy habits of walking every once in a while,
there are also countless stories of how it helped small businesses thrive. The book was published in 2010, and this
type of game experience has been around in smaller capacities around
that time, but apparently Ernest couldn't figure out how to work
Galaga into it or whatever.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But probably the
most aggravating of all is how much the 80's themes of personal
empowerment and prosperity should reinforce one of the greatest
triumphs of gamer culture: translating skills learned into a career
to better the world. Not give up gaming as "kid stuff" but using what you learned through your hobby to better yourself as a person while still keeping it as a part of your life. Worse it reinforces, even glorifies one of the most
unhealthy stereotypes of gamer culture: that the world isn't going to
get any better so just sit down and play.</div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once again, a theme
of 80s pop culture was the prevailing idea that you should
continuously strive for riches and material wealth, which was equated
with happiness and fulfillment, by always plugging away. Marty McFly
in Back to the Future has this happen to him at the end of the movie
when he changes history. Do his parents have a more loving mutual
marriage shown with more passionate and worldly members of the family
embracing each other? Nope. McFly gets a present of a big honking
truck, his brother and sister all have on fancy suits and rush out of
the house because they got well-paying jobs, and his dad is now an
accomplished sci-fi author. And the bully that used to torment
Marty's dad? He washes their car and does chores for them. All of
this because through the events of the film, Marty helped his dad get
off his ass and fight for what was important to him. And it paid off
in spades.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Meanwhile, our
allegedly lovable everyman schlub in RPO has a vast understanding of
80s culture, is great at pattern recognition, is able to coordinate
dangerous situations under pressure with several allies showcasing
resource management and human resource management skills, he
apparently is fantastic at coding because at one point he hacks into
the police station and steals vital information to save his friends.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yet not once does he
parlay any of these skills into a job or career that pulls him out of
the boonies. He's an antisocial hermit says the book? Look at my
above examples and tell me if that sounds like someone whose
antisocial. Also, remote office work is a thing that we have now,
there is literally no excuse.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But apparently it
all worked out. He stayed locked away, played his games, and then
suddenly became a billionaire. Not through tournaments like a video
game answer to Rocky, but because he remembered how cool the 80s was
and remembered cheat codes for Joust.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Ready Player One</i> is
unbelievably smug and self-satisfied with itself. It preaches to the
choir, it loves hearing itself talk, and for a sci-fi story there are
so many problems with it it makes me want to scream bloody murder.
Almost no research was done in making things believable and
everything about it is surface level, hackneyed and boring. To hold
it up as “The Holy Grail of Nerd Culture” massively under values
nerd culture as well as overvalue a book and author who could have
used a second draft. </div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All of that being
said, I will still check out Steven Spielberg's film adaptation
because he notoriously makes film adaptations that are lightly based
on the source material, adding in depth and nuance and a spinkle of
whimsy to whatever he makes.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I mean, have you
tried reading Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park? Very different story.</div>
DigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187840277948482499.post-70082578127928025172017-07-26T13:35:00.000-07:002017-07-26T13:35:04.737-07:00Brief Break This Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRxR10fF9UeIzxl0m7a6wb4woWshe3I2FVT5UysVmWykgh3MRs_5lS89xwO7JA-lS8jU4hXTMznffcCg4tS7W20XXbaI-7qPdDeF2JU77_6LDph77A5nky1EupgX_El1oGltK0JX7Zxc/s1600/Vintage+Closed+Sign.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="245" data-original-width="455" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRxR10fF9UeIzxl0m7a6wb4woWshe3I2FVT5UysVmWykgh3MRs_5lS89xwO7JA-lS8jU4hXTMznffcCg4tS7W20XXbaI-7qPdDeF2JU77_6LDph77A5nky1EupgX_El1oGltK0JX7Zxc/s320/Vintage+Closed+Sign.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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Nothing major or personal has come up, but for the sake of my mental health I'm taking this week off to collect myself. My Friday Night Pile of Shame stream will continue as scheduled though. THhanks for understandingDigiDesperado26http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730210440019189420noreply@blogger.com0