#and the Terrans have a filter that will keep them safe from that kind of stuff specifically designed by Tarantulas himself
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"Tarn Anon"
*Transmission straight into Hashtag*
So you are the Terrans that Shockwave has informed us about he was correct, you are inferior. Do not think your fleshlings bond with Megatron will save you and your doomed brood, we will find you and we will terminate you. And just to give you a taste of what you will face.
*Forcibly uploads all the photos of the DJDs past victims*
Hashtag: Oh! A new as-
*Alert going off*
Whoosh!
Hashtag: hu-? Wha- where’d it go? I didn’t accidentally delete it did I??
Tarantulas: Tarn.
Tarantulas: I do not appreciate you threatening my assistant and their siblings. Let alone with want to kill them, or your attempts to traumatize them.
Tarantulas: keep your grimy claws off my little sparks.
Megatron: Tarn. We speak once more.
Megatron: I appreciate your dedication to your assignment from past leaders of the faction, but please remain within your field.
Megatron: As I have detailed to you and your lot, I am very different from my predecessors, and sparklings - such as the Terrans - are very strictly off limits to you all. We went over this with Silver, and Hot Rod.
Megatron: And even so, recall, they are to follow us up one day, when we eventually die off, Tarn. Because we will. No one is immortal.
Megatron: And they are young. Innocent, naive- impressionable. If you want to sway them over -
Megatron: - which is very possible, they have plenty of Decepticon influence, and Nightshade and Thrash both show interest in the Decepticons, who knows the decisions their siblings may make in their stead -
Megatron: Don’t try to scare them away. Yes?
Megatron: And do not take this as either one or the other - this is both your first warning, and my advice in an attempt to help you, if you want to bring the little ones in.
Megatron: The only order I have for you further regarding this matter, is either if you cannot tone yourself down a touch to mind your own, or if you are so keen on getting closer to them you sweeten up a little. I know you can, Tarn.
Megatron: Megatron, out.
Tarantulas: and for the record, nearly all of these messages from you to them, will be directed back to me. So it will be either coordinate with myself and Megatron, or leave. my. littlesparks. ALONE.
Hashtag: that sucks. It must have been deleted by accident somehow…
Tarantulas: do not fret, child. I’m sure a simple apology will be enough for whoever it was.
Hashtag: Whoever you were, I’m sorry! I think tumblr ate it! >A<'
Hashtag: maybe try again later? <:)
(Be sure to read the tags! ;) - UT )
#Megs and Tara are taking this very serious#and the Terrans have a filter that will keep them safe from that kind of stuff specifically designed by Tarantulas himself#remember tarn! the old saying goes ‘you attract more flies with honey than you do vinegar’!~ ;)#keep it lighthearted and it might fly under Tara’s radar… ;)#(I want to foster this idea so bad but also keep it in line with story/plot-)#(the duality of man-)#thank you for the ask!#tarn anon#anon ask#ask box#answered asks#terran answers#transformers#earthspark#transformers earthspark#hashtag malto#tarantulas#megatron#earthspark tarantulas#earthspark megatron#megatron answers#tarantulas answers#djd tarn
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Reach Across the Stars. Part 4
Links to part 1 (masterlist), part 3
This is it for this story. There’s a kind of a time jump thing that this chapter does, I hope it makes sense. Not sure I’m happy with the way it turned out but... well, I’ll let you, guys, decide about its merits.
Tagging @dixiehellcat @elphierix @jess-b-thot
Chapter 4
--“I love you, I’m lucky.”--
She sits cross-legged on the floor of the space pod behind the backs of the crew seats, propped uncomfortably against the bulkhead. Tries not to think about how alluring, how prohibitively soft and cozy they appear from her current position. It’s pointless to indulge in such thoughts – she won’t be moving from where she is now any time soon. Because where she is now is the only place wide enough in this cramped little pod where she could sit down with Tony cradled securely in her armored embrace, and she is not about to allow herself to be parted from him. Not after everything. Not anymore.
She had retracted the armor the moment they settled down, gently tightening her hold on Tony when his unconscious form slipped further into her embrace once the additional bulk of the armor was gone. She needed to touch him, to feel him solid and alive against her skin. But he feels so cold, so cold.
She hoists him up higher in her lap, trying to be as gentle as she possibly can, terrified that she would hurt him, would break him somehow. Because he looks so fragile, so thin – ethereal almost, like he could disappear at any moment, could crumble to stardust in her arms.
The thought makes her shiver, and she cocoons her body around him as if to shield him from the universe itself, to give him as much of her warmth as she can, ignoring the way her back twinges in protest.
He still feels cold.
--“…lucky.”--
She thought they were too late. When they stepped inside that spaceship – that cold, airless tomb, a black void of death amidst the apathetic, starry beauty of the cosmos, she thought they were too late.
And then she saw him – ghostly pale and lifeless, slumped ragdoll-like against a blue-skinned one-eyed woman, and she became convinced that they were.
But then the woman moved, sensing their approach, shifted as though to protect him, and a new rush of hope made Pepper’s knees go weak.
“His oxygen is almost out,” the woman rasped, when Pepper dropped down beside him, retracting her gauntlets and helmet despite the urgent flash of warning on the HUD.
She could handle a few moments without oxygen. She wanted to see with her own eyes the feeble rise and fall of his chest. She wanted to touch his face. She wanted… she needed… she…
“You need to hurry.”
Yes, that.
Gingerly she slipped her arms under Tony, pulling him in, pulling him up with her. Moved to rush back toward the pod.
“My team?” Rocket’s sudden, desperation tinged growl stopped her in her tracks.
Oh no…
She watched the woman stumble weakly to her feet, one hand braced on the bulkhead. Watched her shake her head with an expression of muted regret. “Dust,” she said, her voice as hollow as the look in her eye. Then her expression twisted, morphing into something uglier, something deadly. “Except Gamora. He killed Gamora.”
The raccoon stiffened, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing in quick, convulsive bursts. And then sound burst through – an awful keening noise that echoed through the empty bowels of the ship like a death knell, making the darkness slither in closer, its icy breath seeming to filter past the suit’s defenses, making her shiver.
“Rocket,” she begged, forcing herself not to flinch away from him as he turned his grief-blackened eyes toward her, his little body trembling with the force of emotions that she understood all too well. “Please, we gotta go. Let’s go.”
“We need to get the Terran home,” the blue-skinned woman broke in, impassive, startling them both, and Pepper watched in growing apprehension as the woman staggered a few steps to the nearby console to pick up an all-too-familiar helmet before addressing them both again in the same robotic tone. “He’s key to bringing everyone else back.”
Something about her words, something about the way she said it made Pepper tug Tony even closer to her chest, fighting the urge to run away from them both.
Rocket’s gaze snapped to her then, drawn by her involuntary movement, black eyes narrowing on Tony’s limp form cocooned in her armored grasp, the furry face twisting into an ugly resentful sneer. “Lucky you,” he spat out, raising his gaze toward her. “Lucky you.”
--“…lucky.”--
She feels a shudder run through him, his gaunt chest spasming as if he’s suddenly running out of air, and she checks the gauge frantically, checks his mask. But it’s not that, it’s not that. And when she sees the way his eyes move behind closed lids, the way his face twists even in the unconsciousness that passes for sleep, she understands.
Carefully, she unwraps one arm from around his chest, moves it to run gentle fingers through his hair, matted with sweat and dried blood.
“Hush,” she shushes him, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the too-too cold skin of his brow. Ghosts her fingertips over the haggard hollow of his cheek. “You’re safe now, you’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.”
She keeps up her mantra, whispering the soothing empty promises in his ear until he calms, the lines of his face softening, smoothing out, his breathing relaxing once more. She lets herself relax, too, then. Lets her forehead thump lightly against his, exhaling a soft sigh of relief, and almost allows herself to believe her own words.
Later, when they are back on Earth, she will sit at his bedside in the partially restored medical wing, watching him slowly get stronger, and she will think about the message he left her when he feared that he would never see her again, will think about how close that fear came to be, how close she came to losing him this time, how she might lose him still when all is said and done, when he gets strong enough to do what everyone expects of him to make things right.
Later, when they are back at home, and a nightmare rips him out of his uneasy sleep and he jackknifes in bed beside her, a gasping scream echoing between the empty walls of their bedroom, his still too thin chest heaving with the force of it, she will wrap her arms around his trembling form, unafraid of the way he startles within her grasp, his body growing tense like a string about to snap. And she will hold him, whispering softly to him until that snap-ready tension begins to leach away, until the awful blackness in the unseeing pools of his eyes fades and he blinks, slowly, laboriously, coming back into the present. Until he crumples, sagging bonelessly into her embrace. And she will hold him, as tight as she dares, as he trembles against her, his body wracked by silent agonizing sobs. Hold him until he falls back into the exhausted sleep, his face still tucked against the side of her neck. And only then will she notice that she is crying, too, her own tears making new tracks on her skin where his have just begun to dry. And she will wonder, as she watches his uneasy repose, her own sleep now refusing to come, if he will ever truly come back to her, if part of him will be forever lost somewhere amid that cold macabre beauty of space.
But for now as she watches him settle trustingly in her arms, watches his chest rise and fall at a steady reassuring rhythm, she thinks back to Rocket’s anguished reproach and she selfishly finds herself agreeing with the raccoon.
“I love you,” she whispers, pressing another gentle kiss over the fading scar on his cheek. “I’m lucky.”
FIN
#tony stark#pepper potts#nebula#rocket raccoon#av 4 trailer inspired#avengers : endgame#angst#hurt/comfort#relative comfort#pepperony#somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes
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The Good Ship CrushWay, Chapter 7
Scene: Bev is alone in her quarters. Her hair is in a bun, and she is hunched over a table doing research and eating sushi.
Bev: (voiceover thoughts in her head) If the anomaly was a modified wormhole, did Voyager just fly into it? No, then they all would have gotten here. And why the Northern Lights? They’re a specifically Terran phenomenon. And Kate? Why Kate? It seems to have chosen her specifically. Why? UGH Kate. What do I feel about Kate? KJ: Kate to Bev. Bev: Bev here. KJ: Lunch in Ten Forward? Bev: I’ll be right there.
Ten Forward
Bev: Kate! Let’s sit back here. KJ: Okay. Bev: Wait, have you met Guinan yet? KJ: Who? Bev: (grinning) Guinan? Are you back there? Guinan: (pops up from under the bar) Bev? The usual? (Bev nods and holds up two fingers.) KJ: (grinning) Guinan, is it? My name is Kathryn. Guinan: (cocks an eyebrow) Well, Kathryn Janeway. I’m glad you’re here. KJ: (?) Thank you. Bev: (giggling) You get used to it. She knows things we don’t really expect, but there’s always a reason! Guinan: (to KJ) If you ever need to talk about what happened, let me know. KJ: Thank you, but I’m not really shook up about being here anymore. Guinan: That’s not what I meant, but the offer is always open. KJ: (cocks an eyebrow) Well. Alright then, Guinan. Always a pleasure to make a new friend. Guinan: (ambiguously) Always. (She hands Bev two salmon skin rolls with shoyu. Bev nods her head in thanks and gestures toward her table in the back.)
Bev: Can we talk? KJ: Of course. Bev: (nervously) So, about the other night... KJ: ...what about it? Bev: In the holodeck. KJ: Yeah? Bev: Kate, I’m your doctor primarily. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be together romantically. KJ: That? That was an innocent little kiss. (jokingly) Plus, you kind of started it. Bev: (firmly) Until you’re more independent and don’t live in sick bay, I think it’s a bad idea. KJ: (reassuring) Bev, you’re a wonderful friend. If it bothers you, I won’t kiss you anymore. Bev: (blushing) I’m not exactly bothered by it. I just need you to be a little more stable before anything happens between us. KJ: (eyebrow) Am I unstable? Bev: In the last two weeks, you’ve had a shattered ankle scraped out of you and replaced by a synthetic bone, 4 cracked ribs healed, a fractured skull repaired, a grand mal seizure, not to mention the fact that you were ripped from your crew suddenly, ended up on a starship years away from them, and you’re being forced to try to remember anything of significance for the grieving families of your crew that are desperately trying to believe you’re real and their loved ones are alive. I’m not saying you’re unstable; I’m saying you don’t need anything else on your plate right now. (a beat) A salmon skin roll is enough. (wink, smile) KJ: Fair enough, Bev. Before we finish eating...you said “before anything happens.” Tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for me, too? Bev: Truthfully, I’m not sure. I haven’t felt this way in a long time, so I don’t know if I should trust it or not. KJ: How do you feel? Bev: You first. KJ: I found out today that my fiance left me. He sent his well wishes, but he is already married to someone else. Bev: How long have you been gone? KJ: Two years. Bev: That’s not long enough. I’m so sorry, Kate. KJ: I feel hurt, but with you, I just feel safe. I see the concerns you have, but I just want to explore feeling grounded for the first time in two years, and exploring with you sounds perfect. I know we’ve only known each other for a week, and I was extremely vulnerable when we met, but there’s something about you. Bev: Something, eh? KJ: That’s all I’m willing to comment on at this time. Bev: (snickering) I guess it’s my turn now, huh? (KJ nods) You’re very special, Kate. I’m glad you feel safe with me; you should. I think I have an interest in you, but I can’t determine what exactly it is. I did enjoy that kiss by the waterfall, though. There’s something between us for sure. KJ: A spark, like my grandmother used to say? Bev: Well, let’s see. (extends her hand. KJ takes it tentatively. Their eyes narrow.) KJ: Is that supposed to feel like that? Bev: I do feel something, but I don’t think it’s a spark. You’re super clammy, and you’re shaking. I’m going to take you to sick bay to check you again. I don’t think this is a good thing. (feels pulse) Yep, not good. (KJ gets up compliantly and immediately falls to the side, crumpled in a heap and twitching. Bev runs to her.) Crusher to O’Brian! O’Brian: Here, Doctor. Crusher: Two to sick bay, now!
Sick Bay
Bev: Data, let’s stabilize her. (Data puts KJ on her biobed.) Data: Pulse is normal; breathing is steady; petit mal seizure subsided. Bev: Good. Now let’s keep her under. (Data sedates KJ.) Now, let’s open this wound again. Data: Doctor, should we not scan it first? Bev: I have a very good hunch, and she won’t feel anything. Trust me, Data. Data: Yes, Doctor. Bev: Now if we extract the bone for a look at the initial wound...there. Do you see that? (Bev points at a shimmery burgundy substance that initially could have been mistaken for human blood, but now is evidently something else.) Call the captain. I need him to see this.
In her office with Picard and Deanna
Earlier, I was doing research on diseases and toxins that could have symptoms like massive seizures. Deanna: That’s a wide search. Bev: Not as wide as you would think. I stumbled across an ancient toxin that causes a disease: tetanus. Picard: That is an awfully old toxin to consider. Isn’t it almost exclusively contained in terran soil and dust? Bev: Yes, but my interest was piqued, so I kept researching. In 2190, the leading scientist on this disease discovered that different types of dust produced different types of tetanus-based symptoms. Dust from Arizona being completely different from dust from Dubai, he began to organize terran tetanus cases by region, and he gave unique names to each region. By discovering the chemicals contained in the dust from those regions, he helped create a vaccine for tetanus in different regions by 2198. Picard: Where does Kathryn fit into all this? Bev: I think she has a form of tetanus. The problem is, this would be the first documented case of this type. Picard: Go on. Bev: Theoretically, here’s what happened. When Voyager was first commissioned, Kate was named Captain, and she took a mission into the Badlands, known for violent plasma storms. Those storms are caused by interstellar dust and warm gases that naturally mix in that area of space. The bio-filters were all overloaded with the dust and gases, but the one in Kate’s ready room burst. After looking into Voyager’s galaxy class design, I discovered the other surrounding bio-filters would have taken over to compensate, and by the time the journey home had begun, the computer would have fixed the problem automatically. The gas would have been filtered back out into space, and the dust would have dispersed into tiny enough particles for the bio-filters to destroy independently. Picard: How would Kathryn had encountered the dust? She was on the bridge for the majority of the time, wasn’t she? Bev: That’s what we have to find out. I can wake her, and we can ask her about Voyager’s original mission. If I’m right, she fell and scraped her ankle in her ready room around the time that they encountered their first plasma storm in the badlands. The dust would have been imperceptible to her, but it would have infected her wound on her ankle. Knowing her stubbornness, she would have healed it herself with a medikit and not bothered to scan it. Deanna: Why now? Bev: No one really knows what triggers these things, but if I’m right, there were some similar gases in the atmosphere of a nearby planet. Sensing there was dust in Kathryn, they would have produced an environment similar to the one in the Badlands to coax the dust out. Since there was no dust in the space around the planet, the environment created would have looked closer to the Northern Lights than the Badlands. Picard: And the portal that brought her here? Bev: Dammit, Jean-Luc, I’m a doctor, not a space anomaly specialist. Picard: (shaking his head) Well, it’s a pretty ridiculous theory, but it’s all we’ve got for now. Let’s go wake her up.
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The Shepard Chronicles
OoO( 1 )OoO
2174 CE, September 25 ESD - 1725 EST – Taiyuan , Shanxi
It had already been a stressful day for Zannis, the turian ambassador to Alliance Space. As soon as he landed on the planet, looks of despise and hatred were immediately aimed towards him, and the army of accountants and treasurers from Palaven. The scar left on the planet by their kind was still fresh, something that was immediately apparent as he looked around at all the seething glares directed at them. As the tall Palaven native stepped from the airbus that had flown them to the meeting site, he was immediately assaulted by a wall of sound as protesters shouted from across a security barricade. A lot of them were completely belligerent, shouting curses, slurs, and even throwing food items across the barricade at the airbus.
But he knew that was going to happen when coming here. He knew there would be resistance, not only to his presence on the hallowed battleground that was formerly occupied by his kind, but to the very idea of reparations for their actions during the Relay 314 incident. But it didn't bother him. He was made the turian ambassador to the Alliance for a reason, and this was it. Looking out over the signs people were holding, most of them were in a human language that even he didn't understand. After reading up on the incident before his appointment to his current position, he made a note that the majority of the people on the colony hailed from an Terran region known as the People's Republic of China. The strange symbols and curved, almost artistic looking language must be their local language. He even managed to spot a sign that only made him even more concerned; one bearing the image of a small avian animal known as a chicken. Shaking the image from his head, he turned away from the crowd and stepped towards the large capital building of the city Taiyuan.
Once inside, he was among humans who knew what he was here for. But despite that, he could still feel tensions rising as he and the five other turians following him made their way down the cavernous hall that his people once painted with the colors of the Hierarchy. Despite the rivalry between the two races, he was determined to see this through and give these people what they deserved. As he walked, he was stopped by a human, who held out his hand in greeting. The turian stopped and looked down at the hand, before reaching forward awkwardly and grasping it. The human shook his hand firmly before offering to lead him to the conference room. The media were everywhere in the lobby of the lavishly decorated building. Though they weren't using flashes, he could easily spot at least ten of them that were taking pictures of him. No doubt sending it to their sources back on Earth and on the Citadel. Soon, his face would be stamped on the screen of every tabloid in the galaxy, insuring that he would be stripped of his honor as a turian. "The Human Sympathizer," they would read after they went live. "The turian who payed off humanity, who sold the honor of his own people." Knowing he was likely to be the target of more than just human aggressors in the future, he still walked on. This was what was right, even if it painted a target on his back.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the human opened a large set of double doors and allowed his people inside. Already inside were several security guards, armed with the usual shock batons and body armor. In the memo, he was assured that mass effect propelled weapons weren't being allowed inside, or anywhere near the building. Even the security had to use old school hand-to-hand weapons due to the fact that the turian couldn't be assured that the entire security detail didn't still hate his race enough not to shoot when given the opportunity. At the table were several humans in suits worthy of the Citadel Council. Six of them sat around a circular table, taking up effectively one side of the surface. Breathing deeply, the turian pulled a chair back and sat down, his compatriots following his lead.
OoOoO
2174 CE, Harvest Season 22 PSD - 2228 PST – Karkarus Estate - Cipritine, Palaven
He had been on edge since the beginning of the season. As soon as the offer came up, he approved it with hesitancy. Both because the potential for something going wrong was extremely high, and because he was still of the opinion that after the blow dealt at Relay 314, his people paid more than enough with their lives, and the damage their fleet received from the human onslaught. But even his brother in arms, Sparatus, was not immune to peer pressure from the other Council members. So he must be the diplomat, and entertain the humans in their request for compensation. Despite his aversion to the concept, he never half-assed a job. Setting his pride aside, he selected someone who knew much more about the incident than he did as the ambassador.
Even with all the precautions he took, the entire thing gave him a feeling of dread. Which was why, when he noticed his home communicator ringing that night, he felt his crop tighten. Groaning, he set aside the book he was reading and grabbed the comm unit. This device was the one restricted for emergencies only, and it going off on this specific night couldn't be a coincidence. Finally, he answered it. "Fedorian here."
"Tevarin, it's Ming." came the voice from the other side.
Reaching back, the Primarch rubbed his neck. "Governor Ming...I was hoping not to have to hear from you on this line. What is it?" he asked as the human.
"A small sect from an anti-alien group known as the Sons of Adam have entered the building and have taken all of the negotiators hostage." said the governor, getting straight to the point.
"You assured me when I agreed to the summit being held on Shanxi that they would be properly protected." said the turian as he stood out of his chair angrily, staring at the features of the human on the communicator.
"We denied security accelerator weapons to prevent any itchy trigger fingers. It turns out that the Sons of Adam had been smuggling weapons onto the planet for the better part of the month, and the guards weren't able to fight back as a result. I've already contacted Captain Hackett with our Alliance fleet. They're sending infiltrators into the building to neutralize the threat." finished the man, his accent removed as it was filtered through the communicator's translator.
"I'm going to send a squadron of my people too." said the Primarch as he searched through his communicator for the correct number.
"I don't think that would be wise..." said Governor Ming as he donned a look of concern. "Having turians on Shanxi was enough to incite protest. Imagine the backlash if armed turians in military armor were seen."
But Tevarin glared. "Your assurance that they would be safe ensured that they were captured. I'm sending a squad of our special forces there to assist the Alliance." he snapped. Chen Ming sighed and reached up to rub his head in frustration, immediately killing the threatening fire within Fedorian. "I understand the concern you have with armored turians coming to Shanxi. But the best thing we can do right now is partner up to show people that we will not tolerate this kind of hostility among our people. Maybe if people see them working together, they'll start believing such a peace can exist."
Ming stared at the turian for a long moment, before finally nodding. "Agreed. I'll have a human ship ready with a trusted pilot docked on the Citadel. It will carry your squad to our rally point discreetly. In the meantime, I'll have security clear out a few blocks around so that nobody sees the teams. Don't want anyone tipping them off." said the human as he ran a hand through his graying hair. "Tevarin, I would highly appreciate it of your military kept its target sights on the extremists."
"The same courtesy would be appreciated from yours. I'll call you as soon as they arrive on the Citadel." finished Primarch Fedorian as Governor Ming nodded, then cut the communication. Tossing aside the device, Tevarin immediately pulled up the number for the Legate.
OoOoO
2174 CE, September 25 ESD - 2252 EST – Taiyuan , Shanxi
The shuttle had landed smoothly behind one of the many office buildings situated around the capital building. The entire flight, they flew low to the ground, using the other structures in the area as cover in order to keep from being seen by the insurgents that now occupied the main site. As they landed, the commander of their unit, a man known only as "Spider" by anyone besides his unit, began explaining the mission in detail.
He stood from his seat, easily too tall for the compact shuttle that they were currently occupying. The newbie to the group, a fresh recruit, who had been picked up and adopted by the small intel detachment after only a year of service, stayed in her seat and looked up at him. She admired the man for many reasons. His record, which was highly classified, was immaculate. Hundreds of infiltration and reconnaissance missions under his belt, zero screw ups, and a record so clean that the Alliance brass barely knew who he actually was. He was a ghost, pure and simple, and he taught her everything she knew. Now, it was her turn to prove it to him. Sitting beside her was another, more grizzled veteran of the squad. An aged man by the name of Dukh. She hadn't seen much of his work, and he aimed to keep it that way.
Directly across from her, seated on the other side of the leader was a silent, dark-skinned man who looked as if he was deep in thought. Despite her own skills, he was supposedly the leading tech expert on the team. There was a joke that was once made about him, saying that if he wanted to, he could rob every bank and credit union on the Citadel blind and retire without a trace. And while they all had a good chuckle, she could sense a small tone of seriousness underneath the mirth. This man, again, was highly unknown to her. Besides his given name, which was Echo, he was a blank slate. He had also taught her plenty about how to improve her electronic sabotage and infiltration abilities.
A month after she joined the fairly unspoken of squad, she earned her own nickname. The name Torch was now what all of her current comerades referred to her as. She wasn't aware if it was simply due to her red hair, or the fact that the remains of any system she attacks might as well be on fire. But she liked it regardless. And despite the nickname, and their comradeship, she didn't know any of them. She didn't even know if they knew each other. The only reason she knew anything about Spider was because of her initiation. As her first act in the squad, she was required to find and crack a highly classified document from any nation on Earth. All of them were given warning ahead of time, but that didn't matter. Using her special skills, she managed to dive head first into an Alliance Network in Vancouver and uncover a mission relating to the destruction of a batarian cruiser that was drifting a bit too close to Alliance space. The newspapers reported on it, calling it a catastrophic failure. And even the intel received from transmissions between Khar'Shan and Camala refers to the the incident as an accident. The only thing that was noticeable about the classified information was that the name 'Spider' was attached to it. When she presented the information to him, he seemed both mildly impressed, and annoyed at the same time.
Ever since, she was a member of the group. Though the group was hardly ever together. They mostly did solo missions out in the Verge, filtering information about the batarians back to Alliance intel. Or even attaining assets who tried to flee from the harsh caste-based society that was the Batarian home planet. But this, this was serious. It could spark a war, riots, outrage, and high tensions with humans on the Citadel. So the group came together.
After the quick explanation of the situation, the redhead stood from her seat. Spider opened the door to the aircar and allowed them out. He had mentioned inside the car that they would be working with a team from the Hierarchy's own forces. There were four of them standing outside their own vehicle as well, three taller ones with one about the size of Dukh on the end. This particular figure, outfitted in black and red armor with a black face shield, was staring directly at her. Taking her helmet, the lieutenant slid it on before walking with the others over to the Hierarchy team.
Immediately, Spider stepped forward and introduced them. Despite the situation, it was clear that nobody among the humans had any issues with the turians. Or if they did, they were keeping a straight face about it. "Glad to meet our turian counterparts." said the human commander as he stood before the tall alien at the head of their group. "I'm Spider, and back here we've got Dukh, Echo, and Torch."
The lead turian reached up and tapped the side of his helmet, making the faceplate turn from a solid black, to translucent. He then stared at Spider with a curious look on his face. "Is it common practice for humans to use nicknames?" asked the black-armored figure.
"Only when we want to separate our work selves from our real selves. We all have families to protect." said the human.
"Oddly inspiring." said the turian as he turned to his own crew. "We are with the 26th Armiger Legion, or more simply put, Ghosts. I'm Squadleader Tarkarian. Behind me are operatives Nikelik, Arondis, and Shevar." When he mentioned the name of the turian at the end, the woman turned and stared at the soldier once more, only to find that like their leader, they had undarkened their faceshield. From a once over look, she could tell just by the facial features on this turian that it was female. Despite her Xenolinguistics classes, she had never had the chance to encounter a turian woman. She had to say, she wasn't disappointed. "We were told that some of our negotiators are being held hostage inside the capital building here by a pro-human group. Given the likelihood of this turning into a bloodbath, we wanted to straight out ask if you even want us here."
"We have a choice in the matter?" asked Dukh, whose rough voice drew the attention of the four turians.
"Not exactly. We have to be here on orders regardless. But with respect from one infiltration unit to another, we don't want to tread on spikes. If you think you can handle this without us, all the better, and less chance of a catastrophic political cataclysm." finished Tarkarian as he stared back at Spider.
The tall man stood for a moment, staring at the turian with a curious smile on his face. "Let's make a deal. The side who takes out the most hostiles buys beer for the other." he said firmly.
Tarkarian let out a small chuckle and nodded. "There may be hope for you humans yet." he said as he turned to his squad. "That's fine, but we'll need to secure the negotiators first. Don't want them to get caught in the crossfire."
"Already on it." said Echo as he stepped forward. On his omnitool, the man brought up a holographic display of the inside of the building. "Already got the room spotted, just need to avoid the walkers and take out the two standing guard over the hostages."
"A spy drone?" asked the turian leader as he examined the map.
As the two continued with their planning, the turian woman grabbed her attention with a hand wave. Shepard looked over at the curiously tall figure, then saw her point to her omnitool. Getting the signal, the infiltrator brought up her own display, and connected their two helmets easily enough. "How are you with that Mantis?" asked Shevar, her voice clearly more feminine than the leader's.
"Pretty good. You?" asked Shepard as she spied a particularly nasty looking Punisher on the woman's back.
"Pretty good. Though I prefer to let my blades do the talking." replied the turian Ghost.
Shepard smiled inside her helmet. "That'll be interesting to see."
"Same goes for you. Can't wait to see you in action." she said as the two leaders finally concluded the meeting.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Here's the plan..." said Spider as he used Echo's holo map to lay out their entrypoint.
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