Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

"Nihlus! Damn it!” I ran up to the Turian. The SPECTR, to my great relief, was still alive. Hoarse, gurgling breath foamed bloody bubbles at the corners of his mouth, and his chest was torn open by a shot from a powerful rifle at almost point-blank range and resembled a mess of flesh, blue blood, and fragments of black armor. But at least not in the back of the head... It would have blown half his head off right away. The flaps of the armor gave way, and I carefully removed the cuirass, revealing an ugly wound and a blood-soaked jumpsuit. I tore the first-aid kit from my belt and yanked the panacelin syringe out of its socket, injecting the miracle drug into his neck and a second injection into his chest between the twisted chitin plates. “Shepard calling Normandy!” I turned on the transmitter and yelled. The answer came quickly: “Shepard, this is Moro.” “The Joker! I don't care HOW you do it, but in five minutes, Naylus SHOULD be in the Normandy Infirmary! Do you understand me?” The pilot seemed to get fucked up by my tone and the essence of the claim, as the answer, spoken in a hoarse voice, expressed all shades of deep amazement: “Roger that, Shepard.” “Five minutes, Moro! And not a second longer, otherwise I will wring the neck of whoever is responsible for the delay!” There was a clatter of footsteps. I raised my rifle. Ashley and Alenko appeared from behind the container. “Explore the port and train station!” The fighters ran away. I hope they can handle the Geth without my help. Or what is it, really? Kayden's help is zero on the way out, just problems. It's like being with a child, literally... then he pokes his nose where it shouldn't be, that he catches a shot and stands looking at the guilty face of the shitting cat... -Shep-par-rd… The Turian's low, croaking voice was barely audible over the roar of gunfire. “Naylus...” “This... this...” The SPECTR choked on blood and coughed heavily. “I know. This is Saren. Now, please be quiet! Then you'll explain HOW you caught that shot.” The fucking look of eyes clouded with pain will warm my dark soul at night for a long time! Such amazement! Such emotions! I didn't leave the side of the dying Turian, keeping an eye on the surroundings. Gunshots and the buzzing pops of biotics could be heard at the train station as the fighters destroyed the Geth. As far as I remember, there aren't many of them, so we should be able to handle it. Soon the gunshots died down and Ashley reported: “Clear!” "Are you okay?" "Yes, Captain." “Take up the defense on the train. I'll join you soon.” I don't know exactly what the Joker did or what he said to Captain Anderson, but just three minutes later, the graceful silhouette of the Normandy appeared in the sky. I watched closely as Naylus was placed on a stretcher and carried away to the ship, and for a long time I will not be able to forget the gaze of those green eyes. Or rather, what I saw in those eyes. A powerful mix of guilt, disappointment, pain betrayal, and gratitude. Well, Naylus, just try to die now! I have huge plans for you! For some reason, I am sure that this SPECTR will become part of the Normandy team. The concept of "gratitude" is not an empty phrase for Naylus. As well as "revenge". The frigate disappeared into the sunset sky, returning to the safety of low orbit, and I ran to the fighters of the landing group. If my sclerosis doesn't let me down, bombs, a bunch of Geth, and a lighthouse are waiting for me on the other side. Well, and future nightmares, where without them. *** The train rolled steadily, the engines humming faintly, and I peered at the platform emerging from the twilight. The optics of the rifle already made it possible to see the synthetics involved in installing bombs. “Ashley, Kayden, the Geth on the platform. They're doing something with...” I peered at the elongated cylindrical device. “Damn it! They're mining the colony!” Kayden flinched. “Who can deactivate the An-3 bomb?” I asked a sacramental question, catching Geth in the crosshair. A shot, the butt pushed into the shoulder. The Geth collapsed to the floor, visibly sparking. “I can.” Ashley replied softly. Shot, shot. The squeak of an overheated weapon. “Kayden, cover up.” The rifle cooled down, to catch the creature in sight, a shot. The train was slowing down, automatically braking between the platforms. The Geth became animated, and bright lines of queues stretched in our direction, clearly visible at dusk. There it is, a muzzle sticking out over the box and invitingly shining a flashlight at me! A blue light touched the tip of the sight, a shot. The flashlight was gone. Ashley and Kayden rolled off the train platform. The first bomb was practically under their feet. The woman bent down, and the uni-tool lit up... “Shepard, it's three minutes on the timer!” “Well, move it!” The rifle poked into my shoulder. “Kayden, check the transition!” The man rushed up the stairs. “Clear! I see two more!” “Faster!” The lights on the first bomb went out, and the panel collapsed. “The first one is ready!” Ashley, ducking, ran after Alenko, and I noticed movement in the dense shadow of the box. There was a brief flash of a flashlight on his muzzle, and a rifle roared loudly under his ear. Geth fell, rolling out from behind the container. “I'm disabling the second one!” I moved to the other side of the tracks, carefully searching the long platform. “The second one is ready!” Kayden ran forward, peering behind every crate, behind every support. I moved further away, stopping at the huge spacer. Here, the platform descended by a wide staircase to a loading platform, on which, as far as I know, there should be a lighthouse. “The third one is ready! One minute!” “Check the platform to the end.” Kayden darted into the gathering darkness, a moment of silence, and a natural scream.: “There's another one!” Ashley took off from a low start, like a runner on the finish line, throwing a shotgun on her back. The seconds melted away one by one, the soft squeak of the instrumentron, the agonizing expectation, and finally: “Ready!” “Ashley, you're doing great.” I whispered faintly, exhaling slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my arms were shaking. “And if there is more?” Alenko's uncertain voice. “We'll find out now.” The minutes dragged by one after another, but, as expected, there was no explosion. There really were four of them. “Damn it!” Ashley's voice cracked. The woman slid to the floor next to me, clutching the shotgun with trembling hands. “I haven't felt this way for a long time!” “The hand of Death on your shoulder?” The woman shuddered, shivering. “Yes... The hand of Death on my shoulder. What an accurate definition...” We cleaned up the platform with the lighthouse quickly, but Kayden was shot in the shoulder again and slowly fell into prostration due to excessive use of biotics. There were no Huskies this time, only five Geth. Ashley winced: her right arm was hanging like a whip due to the impact of the geth pulse. And the Prothean lighthouse in all its dubious glory: a narrow pylon glowing with a ghostly green light, covered with dim lights. “Unbelievable! The current Protean technology!” Kayden admired the ancient device, slowly walking around it in a circle. The lighthouse's pylon stood right in the center of the site, flashing green and gold lights and humming softly. “How much time has passed, and it's still working.” “I wonder what he's hiding?” - Alenko crossed the security zone and the beacon was activated. A powerful arc of energy passed through the pylon, throwing out a tight beam. Alenko screamed, slowly rising into the air. No matter how much the man resisted, an invisible force persistently dragged him towards the ancient device. “ALENKO! Curious idiot!” Running, I slammed into this jerk, knocking him out of the beam. The fighter collapsed to the floor, and I felt an invisible grip lift me into the air and pull me towards the lighthouse, which was slowly opening like a flower. The visions flashed suddenly, instantly overloading the mind with an abyss of information: coordinates, chronicles, excerpts of recordings and short videos. Blood, war, planets burning in nuclear flames, collapsing cities, armies of beetle-like monsters tearing sentient beings to pieces at various times, fleets of ships dying under the blows of black machines so familiar to me, Reapers descending on the planet. Episodes, excerpts, memories, emotions, feelings of despair, threats and hopelessness, drawings and diagrams, a strange planet... It seemed that my head would simply burst from the endless stream of data being lavishly pressed into my poor brains! But finally, my consciousness could not stand it, and I plunged into blessed darkness. One last coherent thought: "Alenko, you moron... I'll kill the cattle as soon as I wake up..." *** Consciousness returned painfully and slowly, pulling me out of the depths of a bloody nightmare. The information embedded in my poor brain was slowly digested and sorted out, but its volume is such that colorful bloody dreams are guaranteed for me for a month in advance. My fingers were clenching convulsively from the desire to strangle Alenko, even though I knew in my mind that I would have climbed under the lighthouse anyway. But... Damn him! You idiot! With his L2, brains would definitely boil over! The medical equipment beeped softly somewhere to the left, the rustle of the doctor's clothes, the tapping of fingers on the keyboard. I slowly opened my eyes. His vision cleared, revealing an agitated and anxious face. “Dr. Chakwas..." I croaked. “Shepard, you scared me again.” I slowly propped myself up on my elbows and struggled to sit up. “Damn it! It feels like a galactic library has been uploaded to my brain...” I shuddered, cupping my aching temples with my fingers. “You have a severe information overload, Captain.” “Yes, I've already figured it out.” There was another beep from the left. Turning around, I saw a naked Naylus on the next bed, studded with some tubes, medical devices of unknown purpose, wires and sensors. The Turian looked like a victim of a rabid spinner, wrapped in an untidy cocoon with a pile of strange garbage. It's a good thing the doctor can't read my mind... I'm afraid she won't appreciate such a comparison and will be offended. “How is he?” My gaze involuntarily clung to the huge blue spot that spread across his chest, to the numerous scars, to the swollen cyanotic burn that crossed his right thigh, multiple bruises and abrasions. I didn't understand, was he beaten up? Or did he manage to fight with Saren? “The condition is extremely serious.” The doctor sighed. “If you had not insisted on immediate hospitalization, he would not have survived.” That's how... Well, Naylus... If you get better, I'll punch you in the face. For making me so nervous! “And in more detail?” “The shot was almost point blank. It's a miracle that the fragments didn't hit the heart: several passed almost exactly. The ribs are crushed, the lungs are excised. A little to the left and that's it...” “What are the chances?” “It's hard for me to say yet. The spectrum has stabilized, but it is still critical.” “As I understand it, it cannot be transported?” “Absolutely.” “That's great.” I struggled to stand up. “Doctor, I would really appreciate it if you would keep me informed.” The woman smiled knowingly. “Of course, Captain.” “Please don't be so formal.” I smiled. “I still have to visit you so many times... Call me Irene.” “Karin. And that's the only way!” The doors of the infirmary opened to admit the captain of the ship. “Captain Anderson!” “Shepard.” The man nodded in greeting. “How are you feeling?” “Brains are about to boil.” I honestly admitted. “Information overload.” “A lighthouse?” The captain's gaze grew heavier. "Did he show you something?" “Rather, he raped my brain.” I grimaced. “Until the information is processed, it is useless. Disparate images.” “Doctor, what is Captain Shepard's condition?” “Physically healthy.” Karin frowned. “I'm glad to hear that. Shepard, I need to talk to you in private.” The doctor smiled understandingly and left the infirmary, leaving me alone with my superiors. Anderson, hands clasped behind his back, nervously paced back and forth, occasionally squinting at the barely alive Turian. “Captain, I hope you're feeling well.” Yeah... the incident really threw the man off balance, since he decided to approach the conversation in this way. “How to say it. Physically, it's fine. My head is a mess of bloody nightmares, Armageddon, and incomprehensible blueprints.” “Blueprints?” Anderson froze. “Yes. But I can't say what it is. It will take time for the information to be fixed in memory.” “I hope you won't forget her.” “I have an excellent memory, Captain.” I was genuinely indignant. “I don't forget anything. No matter how much you sometimes want to.” The man sighed. “I won't lie to you. The situation is not the best. Naylus is in critical condition, the Lighthouse has been destroyed, and the Geth have begun an invasion. The Council wants to hear the answers.” “I'm not going to let the Council pin the destruction of the lighthouse on me!” I said calmly, understanding the background perfectly. “I'm not accusing you, Captain!” Anderson shook his head. “It's about Saren. The second Turian.” “I know. The legendary SPECTR.” I chuckled. "Naylus warned me. He was choking on blood, but he was trying to speak. Don't explain the obvious to me. I know what Saren is.” “I'm glad to hear that.” We were silent for a while, looking at the Turian lying in a cocoon of medical equipment. The captain's gaze is gloomy. He was well aware of the problems we would have if Nilus didn't survive. “Captain.” Andersonlooked up from the ugly wound. “Tell me, have you already sent a report to the Citadel?” “No.” - the steely eyes looked hard. “Do not inform us that the SPECTR is in our infirmary and is undergoing treatment. Just write that he got a fatal shot. Not a lie.” Surprise stabbed at my nerves. “What's the point?” I grunted, got up, and walked over to the motionless body, gazing intently at the relaxed face. “Do you believe in intuition, Captain?” Anderson's gaze was physically boring into my back. “Saren must not find out that his former student managed to survive this shot. If Naylus is taken to the Citadel Hospital, I won't give a dead battery for his life. Let him stay with us.” The captain was silent, considering my words. Roughly speaking, I suggested that he conceal the information. Important information. “There's some truth in what you're saying, Shepard. But do you understand what will happen if he dies?” “Nothing will happen.” I turned, meeting a hard stare. “A day earlier, a day later...” “I understand you, Shepard.” - Anderson turned around and went to the exit. Already at the door, the captain turned and said: “I'll do as you suggested.” I nodded gratefully. “When you are ready, go up to the bridge and order the pilot to dock with the Citadel.” “Thank you.” “Don't take too long, Shepard.” I nodded gratefully. For a moment, the shadow of a smile flashed across Anderson's stern face: the corners of his narrow lips lifted slightly. There was a soft hiss, and the door closed behind the captain. I have a couple of minutes until Dr. Chakwas gets back. My aura hasn't completed its unfolding yet: it's still a decade away, at least. But there is something that I can do in almost any state and in any world. Or outside of it. It doesn't require any special abilities or rituals, my desire is enough. Basic energy recharge. Of course, now is not the best time, and my condition is far from ideal, but... Shaking my head, I dismissed my doubts. With a wound like that, Naylus is unlikely to survive... then it will be restored... long. If it succeeds at all. My finger carefully slipped past the tubes and touched the bloodstain. Blood is the moisture of life. The quintessence of it. Blood carries the life force and energy of an intelligent being. It doesn't matter what its composition is, what its biochemistry is. It will work anyway. A heavy drop formed on the tip of my finger. I touched my skin, drawing a simple sign. My desire is clearly formed, and the blue blood is instantly absorbed into the skin, leaving behind a barely noticeable blue trail. And one last thing. I know it's going to make me sick until my body adjusts... I know that our biochemistry is incompatible, but... IT'S NECESSARY. A sticky blue drop falls on the tongue. The mark on my hand turns purple, and I stagger from the sudden outflow of energy, barely keeping my balance. The door hissed open, admitting Karin to the infirmary. I straightened up and smiled guiltily, watching out of the corner of my eye as the Turian's heartbeat steadied on the screen. That's wonderful. Vital energy is almost universal. No wonder it is so appreciated by those who know what it is. It doesn't matter who is the donor and who is the recipient. It doesn't matter what race, gender, or age. With such a recharge, any energy produced by a living organism is suitable. The same treatment by the imposition of hands, a mystical explanation of the lightness of the hands of doctors... all this has only one explanation: voluntary energy replenishment. And if you consciously transform vital energy so that it is best absorbed, losses will be minimal. That's exactly what I did, taking a sample of the recipient's blood. My body is plastic and adapts quickly. The inner layers of the aura have already unfolded, the middle ones partially too. I can already use some of the tricks I learned during my travels. And energy recharge is one of them. And I'll gradually adapt to other biochemistry. It's not for nothing that true metamorphs are so... Be tough. After taking one last look at my debtor, I turned around and left the infirmary. I have about five hours until I'm exhausted and have a terrible allergy.