Tali'Zorah.
Javik, EDI, and I were located in one compartment of a small transport. It's hardest for Javik, with his ability to perceive the surroundings in a broader range. So he constantly sits in the compartment with his hands in water and waits. In that sense, EDI—who was connected to the ship's systems—and I have it much easier. I hadn't thought about it, but for Javik, we are both very good companions. EDI is a machine and simply doesn't leave the imprints Javik sees. I have a suit, and if I'm careful, no traces are left either.
Meanwhile, we're sharing one cabin, as the ship is quite small. But I'm used to it. The flight to Omega will take four days. The ship isn't the newest or the fastest, and it even takes a detour. Why Omega? It's fairly close to the Migrant Fleet from there; Pilgrims are often dropped off and picked up there. The Fleet also concludes trade deals on Omega. It's the easiest way to get home without a current password and a ship. That's all. And it's easiest to disappear on Omega. So we're flying. For a small sum, I'm helping with current repairs; the rest of the time, I look at what EDI sent me and think about what I'll say to the Admiralty Board.
"I'm not sure my father will listen to me."
EDI turned her head to me and remarked:
"Rael'Zorah has not even gone on his Pilgrimage yet, Tali'Zorah. I do not think you should worry about that."
Oh, I hadn't thought of that. He really is very young. A teenager who hasn't even met my mother. It's going to be funny—I'm older than him.
"It's hard to imagine my father as a child, EDI."
"Likely, I understand," the AI agreed, "I have noted that organics incorrectly perceive age-related changes, although they constantly undergo them."
I exhaled. Well, yeah, you don't change. I have to try to explain.
"Well, it's just that I never knew him any other way. A captain, then an admiral of the Science Fleet. He was always, well, a father. And it's hard to perceive a guy who will be younger than me as my own father."
EDI thought for a moment and nodded.
"I understand."
Suddenly Javik spoke.
"We were originally prepared for the confrontation with the Reapers. Taught to hide, then to fight. To know which commands to follow, to be ready to run on order. Family is your squad, with whom you will die in battle. Taught to recognize the indoctrinated. They might try to lead children to where they would be found and killed. That happened. Knowing when you were being set up for a blow was mandatory if you wanted to survive. But important were the lessons about the past. Teachers showed the greatness of the empire, our cities. What the Prothean Empire was before the Reapers. Memories kept in memory and passed from older to younger. So that we would remember what we were fighting for."
I thought about what to say. Obviously, Javik doesn't need sympathy. Но still, he decided to share this story. So I asked:
"You remember that too? Now?"
Javik looked at me.
"I remember."
Suddenly a thought occurred to me.
"You know, you're currently lying in a stasis pod on Eden Prime. Well, your copy from the past. So in theory, we could have two of you. Though you're both male."
"Still too few to restore the Empire," Javik remarked, "but he deserves his vengeance."
The Prothean's monologue was interrupted by a tremor in the deck and a message over the shipwide comms:
"A Batarian frigate is approaching us. Trying to pull away. Но you'd better get ready; they're fast."
I sighed. The transport we're on is quite small. A cockpit, four cabins, and a small warehouse for several containers. A standard private cargo ship that can carry both cargo and pirates with cargo. Put some guns on it. In short, a universal, inexpensive vessel that can do little even against the lightest warships.
"Won't be able to pull away. If it really is a frigate, it has an accelerator and aircraft. They won't let us go."
By the time the pilot said:
"They're threatening to blow us apart if we don't stop. Didn't manage to pull away. From here on, everyone is on their own."
We were already armed and ready. Shields, armor, weapons. My shotgun, Javik's beam weapon, and EDI's pistols. On the fly, I summoned a drone for reconnaissance.
"Go."
A huge Krogan with a shotgun tumbled out of the compartment opposite us. Purple armor, painted with patterns; a scarred face. A hulk three times my size. A typical Krogan on a walk.
"Oh, decided the Batars were taking too much on themselves too? That's right," he brandished a huge Krogan shotgun, "ha!"
We looked at each other and agreed. Pilots with submachine guns—a Turian and a Salarian—jumped out from the side.
"How far are they?" The Turian clicked his mandibles.
"Three minutes. A Salquion-class frigate, the latest toy among pirates, possibly military. You guys really don't please someone."
We were silent, while the Krogan laughed, helping to make a barricade of crates at the entrance.
"Tough bastards, huh? Batarian pirates on warships don't fly after just anyone. Though this is Terminus; everyone here wants to be a little god with a fleet."
Hard to argue. Even in our time, Terminus is full of all sorts of things. And the largest ships are usually frigates. Up to forty crew and boarding party members—a raider machine. Intended for exterminating small ships, usually those skimping on everything. And there are only six of us here. What are the chances? The three of us are pretty good. In the battles with the Reapers, John didn't skimp on the crew; he upgraded armor and weapons to the maximum. Javik with his beam weapon, me with a shotgun and a submachine gun, EDI too. An unknown Krogan in unknown armor with a heavy shotgun and two crew members in light armor with submachine guns. Not a lot.
Against us, two or three dozen Batarian raiders in light or medium armor, I suppose. A bit much.
"We'll attack, otherwise they'll just crush us," the Krogan concluded, "I'm Urriv of Clan Garatog, by the way."
We introduced ourselves. The Krogan might not be known, but right now we all have to fight Batars together. I hope he's even half as good as Wrex. Otherwise we'll all end up here.
"Docking now. May the spirits help us," the Turian exhaled.
The Krogan snorted; we looked at each other. Not for the first time—if we strike fast and hard, we have better weapons and protection; we are a seasoned trio who went through the Reapers. We'll manage. The ship jolted; they docked with us. The Krogan, with a broad smirk, pressed against the door, listened, and waved, suggesting we take cover. He himself grabbed a grenade and got ready, pressing against the wall near the airlock. Javik and I took our places at the corners behind crates, ready to cover the passage with crossfire. EDI and the pilots took positions in the middle.
"They're there," the giant said with relish, almost in a whisper, "it's about to start."
The door burst open and grenades flew into it, and toward us as well. The first shots rang out. They don't look like military; more like mercenaries. Too inconsistently armed; Batarians do pay their military after all. One of the attackers shouted:
"Surrender and you will live!"
We replied with fire, pinning the Batars down and apparently wounding one or a couple.
"How do you like the buckshot, Bosh'tet? Like the answer?"
The other side replied with swearing, which the translator refused to comment on. The Krogan jumped out of cover, preventing a grenade from flying straight to us with his tailed hulk, and immediately disappeared, blowing off one of the four-eyes' heads with a well-aimed shot.
"Who taught you to shoot, misfits?"
There was almost no return fire; the Batarians were too busy evacuating away from the grenade. When the Krogan disappeared behind the door frame again, we started shooting and I sent a drone. Three explosions thundered; screams rang out.
"Now you're finished, misfits!" they screamed at us from the other side, over the groans and cries, "I'll feed you to the varren and shit in your skulls!"
Ugh! That's disgusting. Javik replied by firing his beam weapon, burning through the head of one of the peering Batarians. My drone knocked another one out of cover. A couple of shots and that four-eyes was dead too.
"RRRRRRRRAR!" the Krogan roared, knocking a third one off his feet and shooting his shotgun to the side while the other slid down the wall, "Forward! Forward! For Tuchanka! Hahahaha!"
Grabbing the head of the fallen Batarian, the Krogan slammed his back of the head against the wall. Judging by the crunch, he won't be getting up.
"Forward!" Javik gave the command and we moved; the crew stayed behind.
Well, all right, they aren't our subordinates. We rushed into the attack before the enemy could consolidate. No prisoners were taken, although some of those killed were clearly crew, hastily armed. Narrow corridors are very convenient for an experienced Normandy assault squad. Experience. The ship jolted again. EDI remarked:
"The crew of our transport is attempting to flee. I had to conduct a viral attack to preserve the cargo."
Including EDI herself and our remaining gear. It won't be good if they run. The Krogan, who was having a lot of fun watching our shotguns and beam weapon tear through the Hegemony pirates, remarked:
"Who cares! We'll take our stuff and fly on this! Can you pilot?"
EDI nodded.
"I am a pilot."
That's a good decision. With the ship, it will be easier to reach the Migrant Fleet. We won't be able to use it normally, but with EDI's help and me as an engineer, we'll fly somehow. And there we'll gift the ship, pay the Krogan, and go our separate ways. It'll be tough, but I'm ready to try.
"Let's throw these Bosh'tets off our new ship," I suggested, "lead the way, Urriv."
The others of our group looked at me strangely. John is a bad influence on me, probably. We rushed forward, killing the enemy.