Rebirth: The Mass Effect. Book 1

Nihlus noticed my maneuver and grinned.

"Quite practical."

"And what do you want to evaluate?"

"I have put forward your candidacy for the Spectr." the Turian kindly explained to me. "I want to evaluate you as a possible Special Corpus operative."

I chuckled, casting an ironic glance at the captain. The story has a peculiar humor. Eighteen years ago, the legendary Spectre Saren Arterius evaluated the candidate for Spectra from humanity, David Anderson, and, as a result, he failed. Now his student, Nihlus Kraik, is evaluating the protege of the failed candidate. Me. It's symbolic what to say here.

"I don't even know... should I be pleased with the honor, or should I be outraged that I was confronted with the fact?" The Turian understood me quite correctly, his green eyes glittering with hidden amusement. He enjoyed this conversation, a kind of ritual of introducing two predators. I think I'll choose the third one, and I'll say that I'll be glad to work with you, Nihlus Kraik, regardless of the decision you make later.

He nodded slightly. Wow, he understands hints instantly, and the Turian is quite friendly with humor. Good. No, it's a good thing he's not the arrogant, pretentious jerk Imrir thought he was.

My recipient made a mistake in her assessment, mistaking the outward manifestations of strict self-control and a long-tested mask for the true character of a representative of an alien race. She wasn't paying attention, she wasn't listening, she wasn't looking. A common mistake.

Our sweet conversation, which gave us both some fanatical pleasure, was interrupted by the excited voice of the pilot, who announced the reception of the signal.

The story is back on track. I calmly watched a short video that was transmitted to us by fighters from the surface of the planet. Nothing unexpected: a shootout with the Geth, the death of fighters, the Lord in the sky. Expected. Anderson stared intently at the screen. Nihlus squinted at me, more interested in my reaction than in the image. The green eyes only flickered once at the screen when the Reaper appeared on it. And they returned almost instantly. Meeting my gaze, the Turian shook his head slightly. I raised an eyebrow. In response, a questioning urk. Like a cat, what a word! My serene smile colored his gaze with concern.

Well, well... And Kraik is well versed in human facial expressions.

"Report the situation." Anderson ordered, looking at the frozen image of the landing Lord on the screen.

"Seventeen minutes, flight is normal, Captain." The Joker immediately responded. "There are no other Alliance ships in the area."

"Go ahead, Joker. Fast and quiet. The task has just become very complicated."

I could barely hold back a sad sigh: well, why say the obvious? I thought it was only in the canon... Funny talk, but no, he actually says that. Is he really a pretentious paragon? Doubtful... But it looks like it.

Anderson shifted his gaze to Nihlus. The Turian twitched his mandibles and answered the unasked question:

"A small strike group can move out quickly and take the lighthouse without attracting attention."

"Prepare to disembark."

Nihlus turned around and walked to the exit of the briefing room. And then the captain gave out:

"Commander, tell Alenko and Jenkins to be ready."

I almost choked on my breath. What?! Okay, there was no one on the ship in the canon, but my recipient's combat team is on the real Normandy, and I'm being sent to the planet in the company of a newly graduated cadet and a staff lieutenant! Don't you understand? Canon is canon, but where are the brains?

"Sir, what about my landing party?"

Anderson twitched his cheek in displeasure. Nihlus stopped before reaching the door, but did not turn around.

"Your group will have other tasks."

The Spectre shook his head and silently left the room. Really, what can I say?

Anderson sounded the alert, and I left to prepare for the landing. To sum up our conversation, I'm interested in Nihlus Kraik, and I don't want to see him dead on that ill-fated spaceport.

His behavior and involuntary habits give us hope that we can work together. The Turian is a predator, his reactions and habits are completely consistent with his nature. A predator will never recognize a game as equal. Just another predator. It's an instinct. Game can be deadly and treacherous, it can inspire respect and positive emotions, it can receive patronage and protection, but it will never become someone equal. In our short conversation, I made my status clear: I was just as much a predator as he was. The words served only as an outer shell. Like me, Nihlus assessed my movements, habits, small unconscious gestures, manner of conversation, attitude towards others. He was surprised and puzzled. The current me was different from the original Shepard, and Nihlus Kraik understood this perfectly.

The decision has been made.

I will do EVERYTHING to change one single event: the demise of the Nihlus Krayk Spectr. Unfortunately, this particular change has a very slim chance of success, since it will take place without my direct participation. The Spectr can only change its fate by itself. I can only warn him.

The recipient's memory was fully assimilated, and therefore the preparation did not take long, and eight minutes later I was already standing in the hold and looking longingly at the two soldiers of my squad. Alenko and Jenkins. And I listened to Captain Anderson, who was broadcasting:

"Your squad is the muscular strength of the operation! Break through to the excavation site."

There are no words, only expressions left. The muscular strength of the operation... Then who are the brains? Is the Spectr stunned by this circus?

By the way, where is he?

I turned my head, catching the wistful gaze of Nihlus, standing by the all-terrain vehicle and absently twirling a powerful pistol in his hands. Apparently, there was something similar on my face, as he barely noticeably shook his head and slightly spread his mandibles.

"What to do with the survivors?" Kayden asked.

"Helping the survivors is a secondary task. Your main goal is the lighthouse."

The speakers clicked, and the Joker's voice said:

"We go to point one."

The Spectre came up, stopping a couple of meters away from me.

"Nihlus? Are you coming with us?" Jenkins asked happily.

The man shuddered at the prospect, and he replied sharply:

"No. I move faster alone."

Did the brave corporal have time to talk to him too?

Anderson thought about it and decided to enlighten us:

"Nihlus will go ahead for exploration. He will inform you about the situation. Otherwise, please keep quiet on the air."

Uh-huh. Great. That is, if I want to warn my mentor about something, in fact, will I need to violate a direct order and go on the air? Amazing! The Spectr itself only closed its eyes wearily at this statement and pressed its mandibles tightly to its cheeks. I got it too.

The ship shook, and I stepped back a little, approaching the Turian, and said softly:

"Nihlus, may I ask for some... a promise."

Spektr blinked in surprise at this question and looked at me in disbelief. He was the only one who heard my words: the Turians' hearing is very sharp, and he easily heard my almost silent whisper. He hesitated for a few moments, but curiosity overcame his doubts, and he answered just as quietly:

"You can."

"Swear to me that you will NOT turn your back on an armed sentient." The green eyes widened in surprise. "Especially if you know this reasonable person perfectly well and trust him infinitely."

My cold voice and gaze made him flinch.

"Do you know something?" The officialdom is thrown aside. It wasn't Commander Shepard and Spectre Kraik who were talking here and now, but two fighters preparing to land.

"Intuition." a hard look of green eyes in response. "FOR PEOPLE LIKE US, it is very developed. Mine is RARELY wrong."

The Turian blinked. He thought about it. He didn't brush it off, but took it into account, glaring at me suspiciously.

And finally, a slow response.

"I'll do my best." and not a shadow of irony.

"Nihlus." The man tilted his head questioningly. "If you die, I'll kill you."

A soft, vibrating chuckle, and the Spectr moved away to the descending ramp.

Chapter 2: Eden Prime: Losses

The crimson colors of the sunset flooded the silent world with blood. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, blinding sensitive eyes, and it smelled acutely of smoke and burning. A tall building in the distance smelled of heavy smoke from a fire. The trees rustled softly, the dry soil creaked under the soles. A heavy, oppressive picture.

Alenko shivered.

"It smells of smoke and death." The fighter's quiet, hoarse voice sounded organic in the atmosphere of a world drowning in sunset.

I nodded silently, lowering my visor. The sniper rifle clicked softly, coming into firing position. I don't like rushing headlong into the unknown. I may remember the canon, but my knowledge has already been blurred by time, and I cannot guarantee its absolute accuracy. Embodied reality is not a game. Minor changes that do not affect the key chain of events are quite normal and can easily cost me my life.

"Let's go."

The fighters followed me, looking warily around, only Alenko muttered softly: *Damn!*, plunging into a murky greenish slush. Nihlus landed a little earlier. I really hope that he interprets my warning correctly, and I won't find him on that ill-fated spaceport in a pool of blood and with his head smashed open. That would be extremely insulting and annoying. He can be too useful in the future. Anyway, he's interesting. It would be a pity if he died because of absolute trust.

Alenko grumbled, trying to wipe the smelly green stuff off his shoes. That's how he managed not to notice this huge puddle? And I was hoping that the real Kayden was at least a little different from his canonical image. Right now! A pretty face with an eternally wistful expression and universal sorrow in brown eyes, caused only a desire to slap a good one on the back of the head so that he could think faster and stop slowing down. He seems to be a handsome man, but... Let's see what kind of fighter and biotic he is. I hope he doesn't disappoint me completely.

"Alenko, finish cleaning and be careful."

Kayden lowered his head in embarrassment, carefully wiping his shoe. Shame on him, asshole. Well, you have to look at your feet! What if there was something more serious? Is there a mine, toxic stuff, or something else equally kind? I would like to throw it into ancient tombs, in which traps are set under every convenient cobblestone. I would have learned quickly not to click himself beak. If he had survived the first day and the first kilometer.

And the demons were with him, with Kayden. I went forward, motioning for the fighters to follow me. We found the first bodies on a rock very close to the landing point: black, burnt to slag, they lay losing their greasy ashes in the gusts of wind. Alenko shuddered.

"What happened here?"

"We'll find out soon enough." catching the fighter's gaze, I dryly retorted: "Stop being hysterical! It's like seeing a corpse for the first time!"

Kayden looked down and shut up, and I walked slowly forward. A little further on, there are more bodies scattered along the road. The same burnt ones, crumbling into pieces of ashes and more smoldering coals.

A barely audible whistling sound made me abruptly raise my clenched fist. The soldiers froze, listening to the whistling of the wind. Was it just my imagination? It shouldn't be... There are three Geth drones out there somewhere. I pointed my fingers at my eyes and waved my hand. Jenkins nodded, examined the bushes and trees, cautiously stepped out onto the road and... slowly stomped towards the cobblestone chosen as a shelter.

I wanted to give a kick to speed up.

The drones appeared unexpectedly, emerging from behind a large rock. There was a short burst of blue pulses, and Jenkins, with a muffled cry, collapsed onto the road.

The sniper rifle jerked in his hands, and the drone fell to the ground, sparking and smoking. The subtle beep of reloading, catching the next one in the sights, firing. Alenko took off the last one.

Damn it! Three flying things and immediately — a corpse on the ground! That's how you could put yourself up like that? Lowering my weapon, I cautiously approached the fighter's body. Is dead. And here's the reason: I forgot to turn on the kinetic shield. Once again, inattention and clumsiness caused a stupid death...

A confused Alenko stopped nearby.

"Jenkins..."

"He's dead! Alenko, take cover!" I growled, hiding behind a rock.

"But Jenkins!" the biotic pointed to the corpse, as if I hadn't just made sure there was no pulse.

"In! Shelter!"

Alenko nodded curtly, frowning at me. What did you expect, I'm going to be hysterical and upset? Just the case! Jenkins, somewhere in the depths of my callous soul, was still a pity. A little bit. A self-confident, enthusiastic young guy whose life was so stupidly cut short at the very beginning. I remember him bragging to Dr. Chakwas. Unfortunately, such people are the first to die. It's good if you're alone, without dragging everyone else down with you.

I moved forward, moving from stone to stone. These drones are not the only ones here.

The connection clicked softly and Nihlus reported:

"Shepard, there are several burnt-out buildings and a lo-ot of corpses." A vibrating voice stretched it out *a lot*, letting me appreciate the scale of the tragedy. "I'll try to scout out the situation and meet you at the excavation site."

"Don't you remember what you said before we landed?" I asked quietly.

A short pause and a muffled reply:

"I remember."

"Don't disappoint me, Nihlus. I don't want to find your body. Jenkins is enough for me."

"Died?"

"He died. Try not to add to our losses."

The connection is gone. Alenko looked at me strangely, but, thank all the gods of this reality, if they are here, he did not comment in any way.

"Be careful! Alenko! These drones are not the only ones here!"

The fighter shuddered, tightened his grip on the rifle and slowly walked forward.

"And move!"

The biotic shuddered and stomped faster.

I walked a little to the side, peering into the rustling foliage, at the massive tree trunks, at the boulders. The drones attacked twice more, but now, knowing what to expect, they were easily killed. Only Kayden had taken a couple of shots in the shoulder, and now, hissing obscenities, he was treating his wounds with panacelin, trying not to meet my eyes. Shame on the parasite!