And here's Chapter 1:
CHAPTER 1:
Gina hated the food on this ship. Mess Sergeant Kidron always called a warm pile of dextro-protein that when consumed, feels like heaven in a turian stomach. In real life, it was just gray tasteless mush that makes you shit real big. But Kidron was in the turian military long before Gina enlisted, and he was a hard-ass military man. He must have lost his sense of taste years ago.
Gina let the food slide off her spoon and back onto her shit pile. Not feeling hungry anymore, she got up with the tray in her hand and began walking to the garbage can. Why did it have to be across the cafeteria? Wait, it wasn’t Gina’s fault. A bunch of stuck up turian soldiers were sitting on the only table closest to the bin. They noticed Gina get up from her table and stood up as well and begun walking in her direction. Gina didn’t try to make eye contact with them, half expecting something bad to happen. And sure enough it did.
The tray she was carrying suddenly flipped upward, launching the goop called food on to her torso. The tray landed on the metal floor with a loud clang, drawing the attention of the entire cafeteria.
“Ooh! You should be more careful lieutenant!” the smug voice of Lt. Merick Vaas said with a chuckle.
“You did that on purpose asshole!” Gina growled angrily. Merick had been an absolute pain in the ass ever since boot camp, and somehow had been in every rotation Gina ended up. Gina assumed this was because of the higher ups. They purposely threw Merick at Gina whenever they could, probably to fuck with her.
“And what if I did?” Merick said coyly, his friends laughing alongside him, “They ain’t nothing you can do about it. You may be Vakarian, but you ain’t got the balls like Garrus-” Gina punched Merick across the mandible, so strong that he fell on the floor. Many of the fellow soldiers let out exclamations of surprise. They new a fight was coming, and they were excited!
Merick touched his sore mandible. A line of blue blood dripped from it. He smiled, with a small chuckle. His friends stepped back as the entire cafeteria circled the two, placing bets with each other.
Gina shook her arms and limbered up. If there was one thing Gina was good at it was hand to hand combat. In the words of her dad, “she had reach”, which Garrus also had. That reach made her great in a fight.
But Merick was better. As soon as Gina threw a punch, Merick dodged it, grab her arm and waist, and threw her over, slamming her on her back. Groaning, Gina picked herself up and turned to Merick, still in the fight. Merick through a punch, but Gina blocked it. She blocked each continued punch Merick threw until he accidentally opened himself for a quick jab in the face. Marik rubbed his faceplates and glared at Gina. He was pissed, and Gina was loving it.
Unfortunately, Gina’s overconfidence got the better of her. She charged at Merick, but now he was fighting dirty. He blocked her punch and socked her in the gut. As Gina winced in pain, he continued to strike the gut, causing her to collapse on the floor. Then Merick kicked her in the face, blue blood gushing from her plates. Merick continued to kick her with angry yells, so much so that his friends realized he was out of control and pulled him away. As soon as he was away, Merick eventually calmed down, feeling satisfied seeing Gina crumbled on the floor.
“As I was saying, you may be a Vakarian, but here, you...are...nothing!” Merick spat some blood toward Gina before turning and marching away.
Everybody else went back to their seats, collecting the winning bets along the way. Gina rubbed her mandible, coating her arm with blue blood.
“I don’t get Turians,” a familiar high pitched voice spoke out, “Always so violent towards each other.” Gina looked up to find the green skinned Salarian Strir looking down at her. He had his arm outstretched toward her, to which she took and get pulled back to her feet.
“Here hold still,” Strir said as he activated his omni-tool. He waved across Gina’s face and Gina felt her face heal up instantly. Medi-Gel is a fascinating thing. Strir smiled as Gina’s face restored.
“Perfect angle of upper right brow plate, even shape, perfect harmony!” Strir said rapidly with a smile. Even by Salarian standards, Strir was strange. Gina knew when he came on the ship as a tech advisor that he wasn’t a normal Salarian. Salarians were usually cold calculating businessmen and scientists, but Strir claimed he he was an artist. Yes, he graduated with high marks for science at his academy and is now an officer of the STGs, but he would always ramble on that what his people always seem to ignore is that science is not just cold numbers and charts, but art. Even if not everything Strir said made much sense, Gina always enjoyed listening to his rapid and excited delivery. Plus, Gina admits that he’s kind of cute, in that adorable little nerd sort of way.
“Come sit!” Strir said happily, “Smuggled in goodies!” Gina was relieved. It means he brought actual food! Gina followed Strir to a more private corner, away from the eyes Kidron, as he unload a bag full of various fruits. They weren’t a fine steak, but at least it was real food! Strir picked up a fruit and handed one to Gina before grabbing another. He always seemed to instantly know which one was dextro and which one wasn’t. As Gina chomped down her fruit, savoring the sweet, sweet juices, Strir still had this confused look.
“You and all these soldiers, all these Turians,” Strir talked waving his fruit around, “You fight each other before you actually fight your real enemies. Isn’t that unnecessary and likely to cause low moral?”
“In our military, fighting’s just a way to relieve stress,” Gina explained. She didn’t blame Strir for not knowing. Very few species ever been in the Turian military.
“I see,” Strir said, “Still much better alternatives don’t you think? Comedy, sports...I paint.”
“We all have our own needs of relieving stress Strir,” Gina said, “Sometimes it's fighting, sometimes it’s fucking. Sorry.”
“No need. Compared to others, you only use that term an average 2.75 times a day.” Gina rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well you haven’t seen me play Galaxy at War,” she said, “Speaking of which, any details on our mission yet?” Strir shook his head, but for some reason kept his smile.
“No idea,” he said, “Captain seems to have added extra security measures since I’m STG. Understandable, but not needed.”
“You’re not at all nervous about what we’ll run into?”
“As STG you’re expected not to know what you’ll run into,” Strir said, “We’re information gatherers. No point gathering info if you already know info.” Gina bobbed her head, indicating Strir made a good point. Almost right on cue, their ship’s PA system awoke with the sound of Captain Tyran.
“All right soldiers, approaching destination!” he called out, “All soldiers to the cargo bay for mission briefing!” Instantly, every soldier in the room left their tables and made their way to the cargo bay. Gina followed along with Strir.
They stood inside the large room, empty except for all the Turian soldiers milling around, ready for some action! Eventually, Captain Tyran stepped forward, wearing red heavy armor. He was a combat vet who saw a lot of action, and his scars and facial tattoos showed it.
“Ninth Platoon!” Tyran barked bringing all the soldiers in the room to attention, “Mission reports have already filed in. They are synced to your omni’s.” At that mention, every soldier opened up their omni’s and read their latest briefing. Even though she had only just glanced at it, Gina already knew what the mission was.
“That’s right little doggies! You’re in for the biggest dance of your life! Perhaps the biggest mission in Ninth Platoon history! Ninth Platoon, you are dancing with the largest Blood Pack attack you’ll ever see in your short lives!”
The Blood Pack. One of the largest mercenary groups in the galaxy, comprised almost entirely of Vorcha and Krogan. From what Gina knew, the Blood Pack had been pretty quiet for the past many years. The Reaper War thinned out a lot of Krogan hundreds of years ago, and it took a good century for the population to rebalance itself. But since then the Krogan had always kept themselves quiet from Council activity. Why would the Blood Pack suddenly come out of hiding?
“The Pack’s target is a facility on Nova Prime,” Captain Tyran said, “It’s a research facility, but details are classified beyond that.”
“Sir?” Gina spoke out loud, “Don’t you find it suspicious that the Blood Pack suddenly attack a facility without any idea of what’s in it?” Gina shouldn’t have spoken out like that, and would have been yelled at or humiliated if she were in any other unit. But Tyran was different. He respected Gina, either because he respected the Vakarian name, or because he saw her as a good soldier first.
“Of course it’s suspicious,” Tyran admitted, “But investigation is a job for Spectres or STG’s. We have our own orders. Alliance personnel are already on the scene, but roughly 2 hours ago had called in for reinforcements. They need heavy hitters, and that’s where we come in. Vakarian, Vaas, you two will be accompanying our volunteer STG officer Strir. You three will be airdropped directly in the middle of the fray, near the center of the facility. The Alliance is currently bogged down there along with survivors. The rest of us will circle the Blood Pack and ambush them, buying you time to rally the remaining Alliance soldiers and push the enemy back. This will be incredibly dangerous, and there’s a great chance many of you won’t make it out alive. Anybody who wants out, speak up!” Silence.
“Then let’s kick Krogan ass!”
“NINTH PLATOON! KOOR-KHA!” The room vibrated as every soldier of the Ninth Platoon let out their war cry. Koor-Kha! To victory! The soldiers dispersed and began to load up on weapons, grenades, and other gear. Gina went to her locker and and equipped her gear. The first was a small jet pack, tinted blue and black to match the color scheme of her armor. Jet packs have become a standard issue for the military in general ever since some business guy manufactured affordable and easy to use versions (there’s even some bizarre claim he sold over a hundred thousand to some “Andromeda Initative”, whatever that was). Gina loved this jet pack, which allowed her to quickly access high vantage points and make her a hard to hit moving target. After slapping the pack on her back, she fished her trusty M-92 Mantis sniper rifle, which hadn’t failed on her once her entire career, collapsed it and stuck it on a magnet in the back. She also grabbed an M-6 Carnifex pistol and equipped on her belt, for close range situations or a back-up. She then fastened on her belt some holsters of thermal clip packs, which she also fastened on her arms and legs just in case, as well as a bunch disc shaped grenades. The final thing she grabbed was a special visor. It was a Turian model Kuwashii Visor, carefully cleaned and cared for 600 years. It had a bluish metal with markings worn out with age, and a purple lense. It was passed down from generation to generation in Gina’s family, and when she put it on, she didn’t feel like Gina anymore. She was Gina Vakarian, descendent of Reaper War hero Garrus Vakarian.
The ship was now flying over their destination and the cargo bay doors opened. Gina stood by the doors, wearing a breather mask for the high atmosphere. Strir was next to her, also wearing a breather mask, while Merick stood farther from her, a Phaeston assault rifle in his hands.
“Captain says this mission will be dangerous,” Strir said to Gina with concern in his voice, “I want to ask. If we both somehow survive maybe…” He fumbled with his next words.
“Um, uh, maybe...drinks?” he finished. Gina chuckled and smiled at Strir.
“Oh we’re gonna survive this!” Gina said with a confident smile, “And when we’re done, we’re getting drunk off our asses!” The signal beeped and all three of them leapt from the cargo hold, a thousand feet from the planet surface.
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