The massive and ugly monstrosity fired again, this time from several ship cannons. It would be one thing if it were shells, but in space, they fire energy beams that burn through metal like fire through paper. It wasn't easy calculating their trajectory through battle meditation and feeding EDI potential collision points. I had to work at the limit of my abilities, getting no less effort from the onboard AI. We worked in perfect tandem, which helped avoid drifting freely through cold and lifeless space. And when the situation heated up to the limit, I concentrated and accelerated my information processing several times over, almost stopping time. The world before my eyes froze, as did my body, but my mind continued to analyze every detail.
I had no burning desire to become food for space worms, but the next enemy attack turned out to be more powerful than the previous ones. A green wave shot out from the enemy cruiser, destructive and deadly, fueled by dozens of reactors. A real destroyer, almost like a Reaper's, only with some differences that made me think. Could these be beings from other cycles? The ship was clearly built with the intention of matching Sovereign in many parameters, if not surpassing it. There were more and more riddles. And fewer answers.
Exiting the state of extreme concentration, I enveloped the ship in the Force and began to steer it away from the overtaking beam. The larger the size, the greater the energy expenditure for the same result. But what can you do – to lift a heavier weight, you need to constantly increase the load. Although, of course, not twofold. But who has it easy right now?
— How are you? - I asked Miranda, sitting next to me. She was clenching her jaw tight, trying not to bite her tongue, and breathing rapidly through her nose. It seemed she was short of oxygen. The G-force from the maneuvers was pressing on her chest, but that concerned me more. Her insides were going through quite a simulator of unprecedented pressure. Hmm... Enveloping her body in the Force, I immediately noticed the changes – she took a deep breath, and the greyness disappeared from her face.
— Better, - Miranda touched the sensor panel, analyzing our chances of survival. We had already evaded the beam, but now round projectiles were fired at us. I don't know what these things are – a cross between drones and missiles; the engineers must have been high when designing them. After all, warheads should have a streamlined shape. — The speed is the same, so why did I feel better? - Miranda inquired, whether of me or herself.
— I enveloped your body in the Force, - I answered her, trying to give my voice an archaic mystery.
— So you could have helped earlier? Even during the battle with Sovereign?
That came out awkward...
— You were in a different compartment. It's hard to be mentally in space and... - I stumbled and leaned sharply towards the panel as the pursuing "missiles" activated something like a nitro boost. Not good.
Raising my hand, I enveloped the enemy ship's hull in the Force, ripping huge sheets from it and hurling them towards the maneuvering bastards. The throwing speed was suitable, and the distance was small – we had approached the enemy to reduce the amount of shelling. My attack was unexpected and maximally effective, leaving only dozens of explosions behind.
— What shall we do? - Miranda nodded towards the numerous breaches in the cruiser. Through them, we could penetrate inside and study the enemy, understand the cruiser's architecture, and find hidden secrets. True, observation brought unpleasant surprises: small firing points were located near the passages, which began to fire continuously at us.
In an attempt to avoid any damage, I ordered EDI to activate the energy shield to maximum and our innovative cannons for exterminating pests. But I didn't put everything on her. I helped no less myself, destroying enemy guns with the Force.
— Their giant particle emitter could be useful to us, as could the engine technology, - I noted, but immediately frowned when the enemy cruiser turned sharply, breaking the distance for a new attack with the annihilation beam. I want one of those too. — But, if you think about it... - I created a powerful dome, taking the laser hit head-on. One could go blind like that; the observation glass was illuminated so brightly by the flash that Miranda had to cover her eyes with her hand. — We can get a lot of useful stuff from the wreckage.
— Starkiller, - EDI's voice sounded tense, as if she had started suspecting me of all mortal sins. — You don't want to endanger my core again by using the ship as a battering ram, do you?
— Of course I do. Engines to full power, - extending my hands and cracking my knuckles to give the moment a note of arrogant, albeit suicidal attack, I imbued our ship with the Force, strengthening it and turning it into a deadly weapon. Stronger than titanium, faster than lightning.
The engines howled, the hull shook like a skyscraper during an earthquake, and we rushed at maximum speed through the enemy particle emitter. The enemies, unknowingly, created the perfect cover for us, allowing us to gain momentum and crash straight into their hull. We broke through the metal shell without problems and rushed through the interior. Quite disgusting. Examining it with accelerated thinking, I noticed capsules with living organisms, walls of biomass, and some unknown humanoid race with many eyes on their faces. As if we had gotten inside a colossus and encountered its parasites, rather than entered a huge cruiser. However, I didn't come here for a tour.
Fully immersed in meditation, I released a considerable amount of Force, with which I quickly scanned the ship for anything resembling an engine. As soon as I found what I needed, I enveloped it in an energy shroud and initiated the destruction process. The cruiser's engines exploded after we flew out the other side of the ship, punching another hole in it.
— It blew up less spectacularly than expected, - I muttered discontentedly, examining the cruiser, which was now just floating in zero gravity, unable to move. It couldn't attack either. Lasers, missiles, energy salvos – with damaged engines and a severed power system, this ship no longer posed any threat.
— EDI, should we call a research team here? - I asked, steepling my fingers.
— I sent a distress signal at the very beginning. Citadel ships should arrive within an hour, - she replied. She turned out to be a pretty good assistant – she had already foreseen everything.
— I hope the local pirates don't steal anything. Although they won't be able to. Inside were strange creatures with wings, in outdated armor and with many eyes. Their combat potential is unknown, as is their equipment. Pass this on to the research team.
— You managed to examine them? We flew through in an instant, - Miranda was surprised.
— I can accelerate my thinking and information processing hundreds of times, but it's tiring quickly, so I use it rarely, - I shrugged.
— If I had such a biotic mutation... Such discoveries could be made in ridiculously short timeframes, - the blue-eyed beauty was clearly hinting at something bad, like me wasting my potential. But no, I just chose the craft most comfortable for me – death.
— Everyone disposes of what they have. Take me – I was a hostage of circumstance, but one day I broke free from their shackles and paved my own way. You were a modified human, created as the perfect being. You were given opportunities, but how you used them, how you broke out of the cage of circumstances, defines you as a person. I want to say... that there is potential in each of us, but everyone decides for themselves which way to realize it. If I had your brains, I would use them differently. If you had my talents, you would also apply them in your own way.
— I understand perfectly well, - she smiled softly, but her smile seemed to mock my clumsy attempt to express myself. Eh, I still have a lot of growing to do.
Waiting for reinforcements to arrive, I instructed them to wait for the combat fleets and only then proceed to examine the enemy ship's insides. I don't want to lose resources in vain, sending researchers to slaughter. But taking all the glory or work for myself isn't the best idea either. My pawns will never become queens if I don't give them a chance to grow.
Heading to Omega, my least favorite asteroid, I landed calmly and greeted an old acquaintance. We met this turian when I was an ordinary mercenary, but now I am the future Emperor of the Milky Way. Well, I will become one in a couple of months. And not of the entire galaxy. The Independent Systems are a thorn in my side. However, there are opportunities to get rid of the irritant quickly: Liara showed interest in information about the Shadow Broker. If she manages to decipher his approximate location, we will definitely get solid compromising material on a bunch of dictators. We'll seize all the Shadow Broker's resources and direct them against the Independent Systems. Power and control of everything – that's what paves the way to might.
— Aria T'Loak seeks a meeting with you, - he bowed slightly, feigning friendliness and politeness.
— Omega is me, - I repeated the local ruler's words aloud. — Our first meeting didn't go too smoothly, as far as I remember. I got her suit a little dirty back then.
— And the club, - he sighed, as if he had been tasked with cleaning it. — We were also asked to prepare the best apartments on all of Omega for you. And disinfect them... - he admitted, hinting that the ideal of cleanliness here is very far from Citadel standards. — Started as a mercenary, and I'll die as a janitor. Life is clearly unfair. At least something is pleasing – Saren cheered me up by saying that soon this... hole will become cleaner with Citadel support.
On the way, we got into a conversation, and here I realized that I had changed greatly in a short time. I became less constrained, hide my personal traits less, gained more confidence in my own strengths and capabilities. As if the weight and fears of the past began to press less. After all, before, I even refused to speak to this turian.
— How did the negotiations go?
— Ambiguously, - the turian waved his hand casually. — We provide human and material resources for the war against the Reapers. We lose? Well, no need to pay debts to the dead. We win? The Citadel invests more in Omega's development than we gave. Everyone wins, but in practice... Rumors are already circulating among the mercenaries that they will divide all your handouts among themselves and then live happily ever after. And what about Omega's development? They couldn't care less. Aria is not thrilled with such rumors, but her authority is not absolute. There are quite a few who have to be reckoned with.
— Authority? - I asked again. — It's easy to gain in an era of galactic war. Anything happens in it.
— It also happens that it is lost with one's death, - he spread his hands, completing our escort first to the club, and then to the second floor with the VIP zone. Aria, as always, sat on a leather chair, as if on a throne, and looked at everyone below as her pets, and not the favorite ones.
— Starkiller. Ruin my mood one more time – I won't let you on Omega again, - she declared straight away, slowly turning to me. — And now get straight to the point. I don't have a second of free time for you. I work with Saren.
— It just so happened that Saren works for me. We have equal rights, but not equal relationships, - I smiled. And, judging by her reaction, she seemed to see this smile through the helmet.
— Era of Change, - she waved her hand, shooing the bodyguards away from the negotiation site. — But I want to warn you: we are ready for cooperation, but not for slavery. We will stand for our freedom to the last drop of blood. And avenge every drop spilled.
— Formidable, but fair, - I sat down next to her, placing my hands on my knees. — There is business. An STG scientist – Mordin Solus – is hiding or buried on your asteroid. Without him, a medical project capable of saving millions of lives in the coming war is under threat. The matter is serious, so I arrived personally to find him and offer a job at...
— An ordinary university, - Miranda interrupted me.
— The doctor barely had time to settle before he shot three of my subordinates, - Aria grimaced; apparently, the matter was related to collecting a residence tax or tribute from businesses on Omega. — Now he is working off the debt for the inconvenience caused. And without paying compensation, no one will let him go.
— Compensation? - I shook my head. — Under other circumstances, it could be discussed. But not when a development capable of returning the half-dead back to duty is at stake. However, strictly between us, the queue for a second chance will be big, long and... flexible.
— A quota for ten a month, - Aria was clearly inflating the price.
— Bacta isn't magic, - I almost rolled my eyes. — Bacta accelerates regeneration hundreds of times, but doesn't mystically return the body in time and space to the starting point. Ten patients will occupy the rescue resource for several days or weeks, throwing the rest overboard. Two! - I showed her on my fingers. — Once every three months. One place, of course, you'll keep for yourself. The second you'll try to sell, but here's my advice: take not by quantity, but by quality and unavailability of the service.
— What do you want in return? - the Queen of Omega moved on to real bargaining. The STG scientist might be a valuable specimen, but the proposed compensation for the damage he caused has serious benefits for Aria: salvation for herself and a sellable spot to increase influence on Omega. Three lives of her subordinates aren't worth such an offer.
— Consider it an investment in future cooperation. Trust is also a resource that needs to be "paid for," - I stood up and tilted my head slightly. — Where does the doctor live?
— His clinic is located in the Gozu district, under the control of the Blue Suns. It's relatively calm there now – four to six corpses are carried out per day, - Aria gave the go-ahead for negotiations with the doctor, which is already a success. — Don't forget your promise.
— Of course, - I said goodbye to her and went with Miranda to the hotel rented for us. I wanted to go straight to the doctor, but in the battle with the cruiser I spent too much energy, and before that even more on experiments with absorbing life forces. It's a miracle I'm not falling off my feet.
The room rented for us looked nice but retained the atmosphere of Omega: excellent renovations were recently done, furniture replaced, but there was a big fly in the ointment – traces of dried blood were visible in the corner. Typical Omega.
Falling tiredly onto a small sofa, I threw back my head. However, the girl accompanying me was in no hurry to follow my example. Miranda walked over to a table nearby, sat down, and examined me carefully, as if weighing me on scales. Strange feeling, like meeting a loan shark on Thessia.
— Why do you never take off your helmet?
— Tradition? - I replied, citing an almost plausible reason: — The true essence of a Mandalorian lies in his armor, not in the physical shell. Although, to be honest, this is more of a contrived excuse. I cannot call myself a follower of their culture and customs. Darth Revan followed them, and I decided to follow in his footsteps, balancing between Light and Dark. But that's not the main reason. I wear a mask because I messed up badly in the past. Didn't avenge my real father, pursuing the ideals of Light at the end of my life. Didn't deliver the final blow to Sidious, listening to Jedi nonsense. Now it's hard for me to look even strangers in the face, as if I'm exposing my past failures to them. Fatal not only for myself, but for all the inhabitants of my home galaxy.
— Do armor speak and fight for you? To me, a silly tradition, - she shrugged.
— Rather, they hide my failures behind a thick shell, - I decided to open up a little. — In the past, I didn't live up to the expectations placed on me. Decided to go down a path I didn't even understand, and it led to tragedy.
— It seemed to me that strong people know how to accept their mistakes, study the causes and consequences that led to them. And then they move on with their heads held high, not ashamed of it. So that, faced with similar situations where the same mistakes can be made, they could calmly use the experienced experience and emerge victorious, - she walked slowly, almost predatorily around the room, sat down next to me, and looked intently into my eyes through the impenetrable glass. — Don't want to take the first step?
— Towards acceptance and liberation? - I sighed loudly and with unforgivable slowness touched the helmet with both hands. It comes off easily, but this simple movement was difficult for me, as if I were tearing off a part of my skin. And... taking it off, I carelessly threw the helmet on the floor. My appearance differed little from the past, as if fate decided to play a joke. Constantly reminding me in the mirror of who I am – a man who had every chance of victory, but let it slip right out of his strong grip. An unforgivable oversight.
— Until the last moment, I thought the face of a representative of an unknown race was hiding under the helmet, - she smiled charmingly, with a playful note in her voice.
— Disappointed? - I asked seriously, without a hint of a joke.
— Surprised. A little impressed and... captivated? - she leaned so close that I smelled the pleasant scent of her perfume and felt her hot breath on my skin. Somehow unusual – I haven't had contact with anyone without a helmet for a long time. But I was even more surprised when the distance between our faces shrank even further. Well, it seems I'm not destined to rest after the clash with the dangerous cruiser.