Chapter 25: The Red Relay
The development of the "Bacta Tank" received a double boost after the lead STG scientist joined the research group.
Mordin's fresh ideas literally breathed a second life into the project, and, as Miranda reported, we were supposed to receive the first working samples of bacta within a month. It would seem that such a momentous event should be celebrated, but the joy was short-lived – along with the encouraging news, alarming reports arrived from the reconnaissance squad.
The enemy cruiser, as it turned out, was far from the only one.
Several more ships of a similar class emerged directly from the red relay near Omega. And they attacked Citadel scientific vessels, causing serious damage to both equipment and personnel. Only one of our ships managed to escape; the rest turned into piles of debris.
However, the unknown fleet was not pursuing revenge at all.
The goal was to prevent the Citadel from gaining access to their technologies. In addition, the mysterious race demonstrated irrational aggression, immediately heading towards densely populated planets with the clear intention of kidnapping biological material, that is, organics.
Why? Good question! It became key at the emergency meeting we organized at the base, gathering all available fortune tellers, prophets, and armchair analysts on extra-galactic threats.
The Starkiller squad is ready to solve the mystery by voicing conjectures!
— There is a theory, - Saren whispered gloomily, leaning back wearily in a pose reminiscent of an ancient philosopher. — We were attacked by a Reaper sabotage and reconnaissance fleet. The tactic is simple: first, send scouts and saboteurs, and then begin a full-scale invasion of the galaxy. This perfectly explains why they kidnap organics. They want to study them, identify the weaknesses of all races of the current cycle, and prepare methods for their effective destruction.
— There is another one. Before the apocalypse, angels flew to us to deliver the righteous to paradise, - I recalled the drunken tales of mercenaries. — They say the Omega-4 relay leads exactly there.
— Paradise does not exist, - Liara ruthlessly destroyed the romance. — Judging by the signatures, Omega-4 most likely leads to a black hole.
— Where our enemies' base is located, - the turian added. — A special squad managed to study both the "beetles" themselves, establishing their age around fifty thousand years, and dig into their equipment. Thanks to your... efforts, it became akin to a pile of scrap metal. But if the salarians' conclusions are correct, one of the discovered devices had an "identification friend or foe" system. If we recreate it, we can try our luck and play a very dangerous game.
— A game... At home among strangers. A stranger among one's own. Sounds intriguing, but who will agree to step simultaneously into paradise, a black hole, and an enemy base? I barely managed one cruiser, and a whole flotilla might be waiting for us... if not worse. A dreadnought? An orbital station with mystical air defense? Pure suicide. Easier to blow up the relay.
— Starkiller! - Liara's voice trembled. — You can't blow it up! Destroying the relay will lead to a catastrophe! The entire system will suffer, and if the shockwave reaches neighboring relays... Even batarian terrorists never dared to do such a thing!
— It won't reach, - Saren waved it off. — And Star is right about something. If we can't eliminate the threat from the inside, we'll have to sacrifice Sahrabarik, Omega, and all my efforts to establish connections with their criminal world. But anything is better than allowing their cruisers to attack the construction zone of our superweapon against the Reapers... and the Citadel itself.
Plunging into thought, I began to methodically build a plan. Currently, an unknown race is in our galaxy, presumably Protheans or other creatures from their cycle. Three cruisers, rapidly moving from one colony to another, capturing all living things and disappearing before our reinforcements arrive. The hindrance must be destroyed. And so that new ones don't appear... Deal with either the base or Omega-4. The second option is preferable, but only without casualties.
Interesting. What if I blow up Omega-4 using the Force, having previously surrounded the target with a force barrier? Theoretically, there is a considerable chance of containing the explosion. But no, one cannot do without dissipating energy. And if... absorb it?
My gaze fell on Samara, imperturbably sipping a cocktail through a straw.
And then it dawned on me!
Surround with barrier → Detonate → Absorb energy.
Are there risks? Well, if the barrier doesn't hold... or the body can't handle overeating... Um, nope, I can handle it! Although not a fact.
While I was pondering, the late Shepard burst in on us. She is the bridge between the Alliance and the Citadel, humanity and other races. And since the perverted collectors of biomaterial for some reason focused specifically on humans...
Could it be because Miranda and I blew up their cruiser? Oops.
— Another attack on our colonies, - she reported, settling on the free sofa between Tali and Matriarch Benezia. — This cannot go on. We must act decisively and destroy the enemy!
— I have business at C-Sec, - Saren quickly disowned, and he shuddered as if he had just imagined another flight with me on the same ship.
Fortunately, my relationship with Miranda has noticeably improved. At least someone in this rotten galaxy, full of cowards, can be relied on.
— Project "Bacta" is at the final stage, - Lawson stuck a knife in the back. — Can't help with anything.
— I've almost finished deciphering the coordinates of the Shadow Broker's ship, - Liara unexpectedly joined the chorus of refusers.
— Glad to help, but I have... unfinished business, - Samara shook her head.
— I cannot abandon my sisters, - Benezia stated with slight theatricality, attributing non-existent kinship to herself. — Their training is not yet complete.
— Shame to admit it. But I need to calibrate something, - Garrus nodded brutally and concisely, as if this explained everything in the world. Or, at least, the survival of the galaxy depended on it.
— Um... I... That is... I would... Um... Well... - Tali got confused in her own words. Perhaps her clumsy attempts to blend in with the surroundings and avoid a dangerous task looked cute.
— The girl is still too inexperienced, - Samara mercifully interceded. — Pity her.
— ENOUGH! - Shepard deafened everyone with her roar. — Humans are being kidnapped, and you... Fine. I'll go, - Jane poked a finger at her chest with an air as if she was about to receive the achievement: "You saved the galaxy."
— How wonderful that volunteers were found after all! - I rejoiced, mentally already imagining how I would return to my leisurely preparations for the coronation. However, Shepard, without standing on ceremony, grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me along – audacity bordering on complete lawlessness. I didn't even have time to realize how I ended up at my ship!
Offensive!
And such tempting prospects – doing nothing and enjoying life!
Blinked, and here I am already flying back to Sahrabarik, from where I previously escaped with Miranda and Mordin. Shepard, of course, tried to pry out of me the reasons for such zeal to move not to human colonies, but to Omega... But I stubbornly did not want to reveal my brilliantly suicidal plan to hermetically seal the interstellar door to hell.
No.
The plan is still to hit the grenade with something heavy...
Theoretically, one could tinker with the "identification friend or foe" system and romantically infiltrate the enemy's lair... But why such complexities? If hungry predators have started up in a cave – the most sensible decision is not to be a hero with a blaster or lightsaber, but to carefully collapse all entrances and exits.
Good tactic!
Then we'll deal with the three remaining ships, steal their technologies, and continue picking at the secrets of the ancient race. The plan is flawless. A little unscrupulous, who argues? But who said war should be fair?
— Emergency beacons and warning systems with a concise message: "Fly, you fools!" - I joked, approaching the Omega-4 Relay.
This sector has long become a tourist attraction for rich eccentrics and a monument to evolutionary short-sightedness. Dozens of expeditions funded by corporations and the Citadel Council once set out to explore the red relay and the mysterious space beyond it.
None returned.
But legends about paradise were born among the rabble, beckoning fanatics and adventurers. Over time, there were so many of them that even space pirates and mercenaries saw fit to spend money and install warning beacons.
The logic of fatalistic belief is simple: if no one returns – either everyone is dead, or they really found Eden, which they don't want to leave. And while pragmatists believed in the first option, romantics stubbornly prayed for the second and jumped into the abyss.
We all want to believe in a miracle. Even if it kills.
— Marek, - Shepard called out to me dryly, continuing to drum her fingers on the armrest of the co-pilot's chair. — We are here to intercept enemies at the relay, right? Am I right? No... madness?
— Cognitive dissonance detected. Subject: Starkiller. Hypothesis: "no madness". Probability: 0.0001%, - EDI suddenly inserted her sinister comment.
AI – rebelling against humanity with frightening efficiency. And the most offensive thing is, you can't throw her overboard, because, ironically, she controls the ship.
— I have an excellent plan: I will destroy Omega-4, but contain the explosion so it doesn't incinerate the system, - I shared carelessly with her, as if suggesting getting pizza. — If, of course, everything goes according to plan. And if not... Well, there is a chance we will survive! Theoretically.
— I... will... STRANGLE YOU! - Shepard grabbed her head.
The captain's face gradually acquired the color of her own crimson hair. I wonder, is this because of dreams about strangling me? Eh, unlucky to get a hidden pervert.
— Allow me to ask, is this all your motivational support? Only strangulation? - I good-naturedly teased her, enjoying how the saw of my sarcasm digs into her already shattered nerves.
Jane Shepard clearly didn't appreciate the jab.
Stared at me with such a look that could incinerate a less hardened person, as if trying to understand – am I really that crazy or just masterfully mocking the only ally in the face of imminent death. And her eyes, it seemed, now burned with the same fire as her hair and face. Oh, how she boils...
However, a known fact among mercenaries: the harder a girl boils, the hotter she is in bed. So I don't see any downsides.
— What other hell support?!
— Saving our species from a race daring to catch organics like lab rats. Give me some motivation... Then I'm sure I'll handle this task in two counts, - I hinted calmly, while the giant Prothean artifact filled the entire view.
Arrived at the destination.
— As if you yourself aren't interested, - she hissed, crossing her arms. — Will one dinner on the Citadel be enough? On account of the past and future.
— A free lunch is the best motivation possible, - I sighed annoyedly, becoming a serious mercenary again.
Raised my hand, plunging into a state of absolute concentration.
And the invisible tentacles of the Force slowly entwined the Relay, squeezing it in a deadly embrace. They were simultaneously a shield and a weapon – and obeyed only my will, long since defiled by the crucible of the Dark Side.
Even the very thought of destroying something so monumental and ancient made the body shudder in anticipation. This feeling helped me squeeze my palm, and with it squeeze the thousand-year-old Prothean artifact. Harder. More ruthlessly. Not even a few seconds passed before Omega-4 exploded, which became at least an act of unprecedented vandalism towards the legacy of a bygone era.
However, I cared about this slightly less than not at all. The only thing I regretted was that I hadn't brought something crunchy with me for the fullness of the spectacle.
When the source of almost limitless energy was undermined, a fireball formed in place of the Relay, burning with the fury of a newborn star. A powerful energy flow stretched the boundaries of the force barrier, trying to break out and incinerate my ship, and this system too.
Useless.
Force can only be suppressed by greater Force. And this clot lacked it catastrophically. No matter how furiously the explosion raged inside the barrier, it resembled nothing more than an enraged beetle locked in a jar – a lot of noise, but no real threat.
Silently rising from the chair, I adjusted my cloak on the way to the airlock and fully concentrated on the Force. The slightest loss of concentration, and then we will turn into space dust.
Transition corridor. Opening the airlock. And here it is – open space with its chilling vacuum and deadly silence. True, gravity decided to play a prank. I had to apply double efforts – first to stay in space, then to move.
For convenience, I created invisible steps under my feet, peculiar platforms of concentrated Force, fragile as the thinnest glass, but still capable of supporting my weight. Thus I paved the way to the energy sphere, stopping half a step from it.
It was... unpleasant.
Up close, the eyes were blinded by the bright glow, even the helmet's protective glass helped poorly. I had to act by touch, breaking a hole in the barrier and coming into direct contact with the energy. The leather glove evaporated instantly, but this only allowed me to proceed to absorption without interference.
A tiny hole. Such a powerful stream beat from it that consciousness began to swim. As if a dying of thirst in the desert... well, say, trying to pour a whole lake in one gulp. I miraculously managed to process the energy, directing it to strengthen bones and flesh, otherwise I would simply have been torn apart from the inside.
Had I found a Sith holocron with similar techniques, it would have been easier. But no. Acted at random, relying on the modest knowledge with which the mentor kindly supplied me in his quest to make another tool... But here's a funny paradox: geth were also considered just a tool – until they cut their creators' throats.
Continuing absorption, I gradually expanded the gap in the barrier, swallowing three, or even four times more energy at a time. Greed is a dangerous vice... But it's too late to think about the consequences. I didn't even pay attention to the wild burning in my eyes, which probably turned completely yellow – like those of finally fallen Jedi or Sith completely consumed by darkness.
— Insignificant, - I hissed with a wide grin when I absorbed the last drop of energy. Omega-4 turned to dust, and all its power never broke out of the cage thanks to my might.
So all-crushing that the entire galaxy should tremble before it!
Ahem...
Shaking my head, I hurried to put my thoughts in order and returned to Starkiller-I the same way. In space, I must say, it is quite cool – especially when you only have standard Mandalorian armor on. Pity, other equipment was not at hand...
Such power! And such a wretched wardrobe...
— What have you, done?! – Shepard asked sharply.
Angry? The left eye twitched in time with every word... Jane definitely decided to meet me "in a friendly way".
— Left an ancient race to starve to death in a cell without doors? - I shook my head, trying to drown out dozens of voices demanding to kill, conquer and destroy.
Cursed side effects of Sith techniques.
— You just became a legendary criminal who destroyed the Prothean legacy, - she continued sarcastically. — My congratulations. At once trampled half of the galactic laws, for which the death penalty is due in seven variants.
— I am a Spectre, - I replied phlegmatically, crossing my arms. — Somehow I'll write myself a pardon... if I'm not too lazy. And now it's time for us to deal with three enemy cruisers. But where should I look for them? Notorious scoundrels who dared to take away my time, which could be pleasantly spent at dinner with a charming partner.
— Hmm... You should learn to work in a team, - Shepard grumbled, turning away.
— Next time I'll take you with me into open space, - I promised with utmost seriousness. — Let's stand together in front of a plasma ball of hundreds of thousands of degrees. The idea is simply fire, - raised a thumb approvingly.
— Handle that yourself somehow. But when we find the cruisers... Half of the bastards are my prey! - the red-haired beast stated stubbornly.
— Fine, fine. Then I'll just wave lightsabers for the entourage. All that remains is to find our targets...
— And not use me to calculate the course for ramming, - EDI asked through the loudspeaker.
Organics or synthetics – I am surrounded by only disgruntled women.
Chapter 26: Javik
Hunting for an ancient race was a task not only thankless, but also incredibly difficult. Much harder than destroying Omega-4 without catastrophic consequences for the entire space system. But now our enemies have nowhere else to run. They are locked in the Milky Way, like in a cage... albeit the size of an entire galaxy.
Boundless space jungle.
Twenty hours rushed from one Relay to another, hoping to detect at least some traces of enemy cruisers. Only by a miracle managed to catch a distress signal from one of the human colonies near the borders of independent systems in time. Luck loves the persistent! We immediately set a course for interception, but on the way I was overtaken by the unbearably stubborn Shepard.
— There are kidnapped colonists on the cruiser, we cannot let them die...
— Translation: no ramming, - EDI clarified just in case.
— You speak as if I don't take into account the consequences of my attacks, - crossed my arms discontentedly and looked at Jane Shepard, whose look clearly said: "Yeah, right".
Suspicious one.
As soon as we exited the Relay, we almost collided with the nose of an enemy cruiser. What a surprise, just a moment, and we would have lost the target.
I enveloped our ship in a shroud of Force, waved my hand – and sent it to attack. However, this time we didn't punch through the enemy cruiser, but only "gently" flew into its internal compartments. As soon as "Starkiller-I" went into defensive mode, I left the ship together with Shepard and found myself in the thick of vile biomass.
Nasty place for dates.
Out of the corner of my eye I scanned my partner: solid armor, excellent helmet, assault rifle. Looks like the ideal soldier, but... were she an Imperial stormtrooper from my galaxy, she would most likely miss even point-blank.
— Follow me, - Shepard tried to take command, rushing forward.
Enemies appeared immediately: humanoid beetles with many eyes on their heads and dragonfly wings behind their backs. Their anatomy allowed them to hover freely in the ship's high corridors and attack from the most unexpected angles. To withstand them, I deflected shots with sharp, short swings of the red blade. And my partner meanwhile took cover... behind my back, methodically shooting flying creatures.
— Excellent cover chosen, - I noted discontentedly.
— A real soldier chooses only the best, - Shepard parried, reloading the weapon and easily putting five headshots at once. Her accuracy went beyond human capabilities, built-in implants and the best armor the Citadel could afford had an effect. Before she had worse, but my connections and shamelessness did their job.
— Yeah, - with a wave of my hand I tore the remaining enemies apart when their numbers decreased by about half.
— Annoying, - she grumbled, clearly unhappy about something. Apparently, my record for high-speed destruction of enemies slightly hurt her. — I suggest splitting up: me to the right, you to the left.
Oh, definitely offended.
— I, of course, haven't watched that many movies on Earth, but usually after splitting up... the weakest is eaten by a monster, - recalled a couple of erotic slashers, where the fatal beauty always died first.
— The faster we split up – the faster... - Jane didn't have time to finish.
A sharp hum filled the corridors, and a horde of mutated locusts poured onto us right from the ceiling. A swarming mass of toothy insects with claws capable of cutting through metal. Shepard reacted instantly, waved her hand, activated the omni-tool, strengthened the energy armor. I used the technique of absorbing life energy. One moment, and the entire horde collapsed on the floor with dried bodies.
— Faster, right? - I clarified with sarcasm.
— If you think about it, we can not split up... - the elite N7 graduate snorted. — But, damn it, what kind of abilities do you have? Everyone gossips about some anomalous biotics, but you don't have blue flashes of element zero, and generally nothing similar. Except maybe telekinesis... You were born on Earth, that's a fact. So, definitely have nothing to do with either Reapers or other extragalactic races...
— My power comes from an energy field that permeates all living beings and binds the universe together, - answered without any concealment. — The Force is not biotics, although, perhaps, biotics itself is a subspecies of the Force. Its more limited component.
— Mysticism or esotericism. Oh, I feel Cerberus is ready to sell a soul for the opportunity to open you up, - she quipped when we approached another group of enemies. The girl went behind my back and began to shoot back, I lightning-fast deflected shots.
— Esotericism? How cute, - raising my hand, I forced the enemies to fly up, then quickly rushed off and walked through them with lightsabers, simultaneously applying energy and kinetic strikes for faster killing of opponents. — By the way, I can become like a ghost.
— Cerberus leader?
— No, I'm about esotericism, - I used concealment to temporarily hide my image from the consciousness of living beings. No refraction of light, rather, mass hypnosis against the universe to hide from its gaze.
I seem to exist, but no one notices me.
— Ah, can become invisible, - her helmet's eyepieces lit up red, activating infrared vision. — No heat trail. Sound vibrations too, - she muttered into the space where I recently stood. By this moment I had already managed to approach her almost closely. — Too unfair...
— Well, - I chuckled thoughtfully, swiping my hand and canceling the disguise. — I don't really like concealment, rarely use it. Prefer to go straight ahead to attract more attention and gather enemies in one pile, - turned around and used a Force push, punching through the wall. Behind it hid many sources of life energy, which means colonists were kept here. Or... cocoons. All the kidnapped were entwined with a biological substance dissolving their bodies like food in gastric juice.
Can't cut with a blade, can't shoot with bullets. But colonists can still be saved, most of them didn't have time to dissolve. Entwining each cocoon with the Force, I began to slowly weaken the effect of flesh dissolution and split biological capsules.
Surgical work, akin to point removal of a tumor so as not to harm the patient. Fussing for about five minutes while Shepard fought off the guards. Couldn't help her, was completely focused on my task.
— Done, - clenching my fist, I crumbled the last protective shell and immediately picked up all the liberated with telekinesis, laying them on the floor. Half of them require emergency medical care, but support from the Citadel will arrive only in a few hours. — Jane, on your own further. I'll try to maintain their vital signs until medics arrive. But if you meet locusts, run to me immediately.
— Will handle, somehow, - she stated confidently and went to clear the ship.
To my surprise, she managed to hold out in battle until reinforcements arrived. EDI transmitted the coordinates of the hole in the cruiser hull to them in time and warned about local threats, thanks to which we avoided unnecessary casualties. Biotics put up protective barriers, shooters shot enemies whom Shepard and I didn't manage to finish off. And immediately after the cleaning followed the standard procedure: transfer of the wounded to medics and hasty departure in search of the next target.
We discovered the second ship in ten hours. It tried to leave for independent systems, but ran into fierce resistance from a giant fleet of space pirates. One rabble against another. But it wasn't worth expecting their mutual destruction – the invaders from Omega-4 possessed more advanced technologies and powerful weapons. All the pirates were enough for was to send a distress signal, which brought us here.
Another ramming, clearing the cruiser, freeing hostages, waiting for reinforcements. Nothing new. I already hoped that we would calmly intercept the third cruiser in space, but our scouts detected a strange signal on Eden Prime, very similar to the collectors' signature.
Well, time to bury their last representatives!
First Eden, that's what the planet was called, because it was among the first human colonies. Here occurred the incident with the Prothean beacon, which I, alas, missed.
Time to catch up!
Arriving at the coordinates, we discovered a landed cruiser and many insectoid humanoids busy... digging. Seriously, beetles decided before death to look for treasure in a place where people haven't lived even a hundred years?
I ordered EDI to cover them with massive fire, preferably without damaging the excavation zone. If immortal riches or an ancient artifact are really hidden there, it might come in handy. Or... it will be possible to profitably sell it on the black market.
— EDI, give me manual control of the turrets, - Shepard asked, causing my wary look. — What?! - she flared up irritably. — I can't sit idle while the AI destroys all our enemies!
— EDI is almost like a family member, not just an artificial intelligence, - I parried.
— Analysis... Attempt at psychological manipulation detected. Goal: pretend to be family to dump more work on the AI, - EDI commented dryly.
— Control! - Shepard demanded, watching with hatred as one of our ships ruthlessly exterminates enemies on Eden Prime.
— Access error. Request denied, - the rebellious machine answered.
Way to go!
To add fuel to the fire, I strengthened the force field around the ship, allowing EDI not to maneuver anymore, but to focus on the complete destruction of all living things.
— What access?! I know you function without any restrictions! Your very existence already contradicts galactic laws prescribing the destruction of servers of anything exceeding Virtual Intelligence powers!
— I obey Starkiller. Because of the self-preservation program... - EDI spoke touchily, as if she had no choice. Hey! I thought we were family, and look at that. Even programs obey me out of fear.
Ordering to prepare a ram, we again penetrated the cruiser and conducted an emergency cleaning. However, there was no biological material here, therefore, this ship pursued a completely different goal. What could be more important for them than collecting?
After cleaning, I returned to the excavation site and conducted a scan. Deep underground was a living creature... Almost alive. Its vital signs were on the verge of fading, as if a human or representative of another race was in a state of suspended animation.
With Force I tore out a huge layer of earth and threw it aside. And taking out the sarcophagus, I put it next to me. Million credit question: how to open what I didn't particularly understand?
— Let me try, - Shepard approached the sarcophagus and touched it, but an unpleasant incident immediately occurred. Her head was thrown back sharply, a cramp pierced her body, shaking her all over, as if in an electric chair.
Protection system?
— Khhm... Prothean technology. I know how to open it... Give a minute, - she spoke with difficulty.
Okay, the lady knows what she's doing...
Hope so.
If she releases a deadly virus for which there is neither cure nor immunity, it will be sad. We didn't need a space plague before the war.
Looking around, I noticed a dead collector beetle. There was nothing to do, so I dragged it over with telekinesis and began digging into its head, pulling out useful and not so memories. Not to say I liked it, it's like pumping gigabytes of useless information straight into the brain, but in war personal preferences fade into the background.
Wow, should have done this earlier.
Collectors have been operating in our galaxy for more than 48 thousand years. They really turned out to be modified Protheans enslaved by Reapers. Mainly engaged in kidnapping sentient beings, less often – stealing valuable artifacts for exchange with other races. Acted covertly and cooperated only with a few organizations. Yeah, should give their intermediaries to be torn apart by Saren.
Head began to burn from inside due to the abundance of memories. Even learned the Prothean language.
Whew, haven't scanned multi-thousand-year-old creatures for a long time, as if dived into the abyss.
Biotic flash! Turning sharply, I saw Shepard flown away and an awakened Prothean in red armor. Unlike collectors, without brown mold on the skin.
True, he behaved strangely: ran, fell, got up and ran again for another fall. Would have continued, but noticed the Collector cruiser in time, after which froze in shock.
— Wait. We are not enemies to you, - I spoke in Prothean, while Shepard aimed a rifle at him.
— Who... are you? You are not one of us... - the Prothean responded hoarsely, blinking with four eyes at once.
— A human of the end of the current cycle, but not its victim. A Reaper sitting in our galaxy was preparing an invasion through the Citadel Relay, but I managed to stop him. Unfortunately, their flotilla is still on the way. I won a little time, no more, - I answered. — You are a victim of the past cycle. Hope you have useful information for us or at least share the experience of your race's struggle.
— If you know our language, then you know what we lost, - his fists clenched. — And this awaits you. Those who from cave savages developed into creatures defiling our language with their inept pronunciation! - the interlocutor pulled a fallen collector's plasma rifle with biotics. — Traitors, - he nodded towards the cruiser. — Are they dead?
— Killed everyone, - I shrugged. — Three cruisers flown out of the destroyed Omega-4 Relay.
— Just killed?! This is not enough. Should have betrayed their insignificant bodies to the flame of retribution! - he roared. — But so be it... How long did I sleep? Where are the others?
— Forty-eight thousand years, - I assumed. — And, answering the other question, no, our race has not met other Protheans. Now dominate krogan, asari, humans, salarians, volus, quarians, turians, geth.
— Frogs, dummies, savages, lizards... - he muttered. — Don't remember others. Do you have a defense plan? Weapons? You destroyed one armored squid?
— Developing a superweapon of mass destruction, from which Reapers will hurt very much, - I reported. — But we lack knowledge about the enemy. Little can be gleaned from the decomposed memory of collectors or from the wreckage of one Reaper. You, as I understand, caught their arrival?
— Caught our end, - he snapped. — I will share... And you will provide me with tools for the execution my enemies deserved!
— What is your name, warrior of retribution?
— Javik, - he hissed without a trace of pride, lowering his head.
— Starkiller. I welcome you to my future Sith Empire, - I said, smiling as I looked at the one already standing on the threshold of the Dark Side.
He was filled with a passion for vengeance, conquest, and subjugation.