Mass Effect: Salvage

by N00813

Chapter 18 - Epilogue

Chapter 18: Epilogue

--

New beginning… for all of us. – Dr Mordin Solus’s last recorded transmission, Tuchanka Shroud facility

--

A muffled thump and a series of hisses told the three that they'd docked at Omega. Still the heart of evil that she remembered from the vids, Riana thought, as she looked out at the bright neon highlighting of the massive space station. Even the Reaper War hadn't changed that. The strong still preyed on the weak, and the wealthy on the poor. Some things never changed.

Omega had sprouted from an eezo-rich asteroid like a weed from fertile land, and over the centuries, it had been the home of almost every Terminus Systems pirate or slaver gang. Even the recent Cerberus attack had only put a short stop to those functions.

She didn’t trust anyone on this Goddess-forsaken rock, apart from her two companions. Even after the decimation of the pirate fleet during the Reaper War, and the attack that Cerberus had made on the station, there were still enough ne’er-do-wells still alive to rip her off. Aria was still alive, last she heard, even after the Reapers took control of the Citadel. The old bitch had always been hard to kill.

Levin had stayed with her whilst Sev had gone shopping, idly tapping his long talons on the ship’s doorframe. Any second now, one of the docking guys was going to come in and demand payment. Levin had been on Omega for quite some time in his past, whilst she hadn’t.

The door hissed open, revealing Sev and his newly bought rifle – a massive machine gun, at least a meter long, which seemed to have been roughly sandblasted to remove identifying decals and engraved serial numbers. Still, she recognized the distinctive shape of the weapon; it was one of the human made N7 Typhoon models, a constant sight on the propaganda posters. So many had been produced during the war that it was inevitable some would go off the radar, so to speak.

“Let us go,” he growled happily. Huh. He must really have wanted to test it out.

“What of the docking guard?” Levin asked, fully armored and cradling his Avenger in his arms. On Omega, only a fool went around looking weaponless.

“I took care of that,” the krogan replied, and Riana felt a trickle of dread running down her spine. “He was going to charge you double. Here he is. I think he finished changing his pants.”

A rather lanky salarian in dirty armor came up to the group from around the corner, boots clanking on the metal flooring. “Apologies for the delay, sirs,” he said to the group, ending with a short bow.

‘What?’ Riana mouthed to Sev.

-&-

What are you going to live for?

Luna looked up at the night sky. Twinkling stars stared back down at her. The universe was at once beautiful and deadly.

Equestria - no, the world - could not live in the dark ages forever. Other races frolicked amongst the stars, uncovering the mysteries of their pasts, exploring and killing, loving and hating. There was so much out there to discover, and they would definitely miss out if they were to ignore the galaxy’s potential in favor of simple living.

Knowledge is power.

Simple living had its benefits – a country of peace, untouched by war or large-scale conflict for the best part of the last century. Still, they didn’t have a choice. The arrival of those three had shown that alien life could reach them, and the next visitors could have even worse intentions than even that krogan, Sev. What then? Equestria would be caught unprepared, pressed into a long and difficult war, and in the end she doubted that even the power of herself and her sister could do much to a full alien fleet. Or multiple fleets.

Power corrupts.

She hardened her resolve, and her face set in determination. She couldn’t do much; she had always been seen as the second sister, the one who took up space, the one who didn't deserve her title. But she could do enough to make a difference. Live and let die. And by making a difference, she was living the life she wanted.

She reached for the nearby parchment and quill with her magic, and started to write.

Equestria Space

No. That wouldn’t be good. Her time with the griffons had shown that they could work off one another, and both benefit – and this program was going to change the world. Why not invite all races of the world to play their part? Every species’ strength would counter another’s weakness, and the level of teamwork needed in a project this massive would foster harmony between all species and races. Her sister would agree, if she wasn’t lying about all that harmony stuff she sprouted in her speeches.

Every race was going to be given a chance. There would still be old grudges, and there would still be conflict and friction; but such was the price for harmony.

International Space Project

She started to write.

-&-
Six weeks since the Massacre

Gilda walked through the streets of Ponyville once again. The light blue sky above her head sickened her; it looked artificial and filtered, and she had always felt like her eyes had somehow stopped working correctly once she entered Equestrian airspace. For a griffon, death was preferable to blindness.

And it wasn’t just the sky that was wrong. The grass was too light a shade of green, the houses looked like they were painted plywood, and the animals weren’t animals – only golems dressed in flesh and blood, programmed to obey and serve their creators.

So much for her new post, Gilda thought. This was looking like a bad idea already. Still, live and let die. Life was fragile, and she’d rather experience all that she could before her flame snuffed out.

The houses seemed to be hodgepodge, with no rule or reason in their design at all. Every house stuck out like a sore talon, screaming to get the attention of ponies, and the one griffon, passing by. Gilda narrowed her eyes. The timber framing and thatched housing would make them susceptible to fire. It would be simple for them to burn down, trapping every pony inside. At least every house seemed to stand far enough from the others for fires to be confined to one house.

She glanced upwards, towards the roofing. Thatch meant that it was flammable, but also that it was easy to scale. A good griffon sikskysher would be able to fire from one of the slanted rooftops, using the bulge of the roof itself as cover. Problem was, he wouldn’t be able to cover a lot of ground with the scope.

The whole town was a rat’s warren of streets, alleys, dead-ends and market stalls, perfectly designed to allow a defending guerilla force pick off a much larger attacking one. Even after taking the residential housing, there was a wide area of flat land surrounding the town hall – a killzone for land units. Snipers would be able to pick them off from the safety of the hall’s top floors.

Still, griffons had wings, which meant that she could lead a small force to bust in through the top windows and clear the floor. From then on, the defenders would be breached, and they’d be at a higher point. The only caveat was that the breaching team would have to be quick, since they’d be exposed to anyone in the town after breaching cloud cover.

She looked up and back, noticing the apple plantation in the distance. A red house loomed above the trees, and she could see the many windows that decorated it, even from this distance. From there, a sniper unit could hit the bridges across the river, softening up any defenders and attackers. A vital area.

As she juggled tactics in a part of her mind, the other part noticed that the ponies seemed to stare at her as she passed. They didn’t seem happy. More shocked, angry, and fearful, judging by their open mouths and wide eyes. Gilda shrugged. At least those were glares they were slinging around, not bullets. She could live with that. She'd have to keep an eye out, though. Crowds were great places to launch sneak attacks from.

“Halt!” an authoritative voice sounded, uncannily similar to that of her own. Gilda did, idly patting her chest for the combat knife that wasn’t there. Well. Looked like she would have to take them hand-to-hand if things went sideways.

Two Royal Guards rushed over. “State your name and business.”

“Gilda. Visiting a friend.” It was better not to tell them what she was really here for; it would take too long. She had the papers in her carry-bag, but still.

One of the guards lit up his horn, whilst the other strafed her, intending to flank. Gilda bristled, turning such that his advantage would be reduced. It wasn’t too difficult to take them down, she idly remembered. Their throats were exposed, unprotected by armor, and their spears only popped out from one side of their armor. Some would think that the Equestrians would have rolled out new sets following the alien arrival.

Still, a good griffon soldier never let the enemy close in.

“Not a changeling,” the unicorn guard said, dispersing the remnants of his spell. He nodded quickly, and professionally. “Continue. Celestia bless you.”

Gilda refrained from rolling her eyes. “Hey, can you tell me where Twilight Sparkle’s home is?”

The unicorn guard started, mouth opening in surprise, before narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in thought. “The library. It’s a tree, converted into a house. Golden Oaks, I think it’s called. About that way.” He pointed with a hoof to emphasize a direction.

Gilda nodded, and took off into the air with a flap of her wide wings. She wasn’t nearly as fast as Dash, but she could fly for far longer. Now, she had a description to work off of, and her eagle eyes started scanning the area. A converted tree would have to be massive – ah. There it was.

A raspy, somewhat cool voice sounded from somewhere behind her. She didn’t need to look back to know who it was. “Hey, G!”

“Dash,” Gilda replied evenly, continuing her flight towards the green, leafy building. Now that she laid eyes on it, she could how well built it was. Windows built haphazardly into the wood let snipers spray lead into the wide open space around the library. Furthermore, the leaves in the tree’s canopy, no doubt supported by branches, could let a sikskysher sit and shoot without fear of discovery. The leaves would hide the muzzle flash. The sound would still travel, though. Still, a suppressor would solve that problem easily.

Not a bad building, by pony standards.

Dash caught up, flying alongside her with ease. She’d expected that. Dash was fast, but not tough.

“Sup,” the rainbow-maned pegasus said nonchalantly, placing her hooves on the back of her head in an attempt at normalcy. Ha. Those days were long gone.

“Visiting Twilight,” Gilda replied, eyes still fixed straight ahead. The library was about the size of her clenched fist now, and she’d arrive in a few seconds.

“Twilight? That egghead? Why?” Dash laughed, and Gilda felt a sudden urge to punch the smug bastard in the muzzle. She herself didn’t like reading or studying that much, but she’d gained a new respect for academics when she joined the army. Her guns and armor were all born from the mind of an ‘egghead’ as well, and those two things had saved her life on more than one occasion. The Battle of Winterhold had made that very clear.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Gilda growled, summoning the deeper, rumbling voice of her lion’s genes.

Dash frowned, flipping her body over until her legs dangled down below her. “I’m not.”

“Good.”

Ignoring her acquaintance’s sigh, she landed with a flutter of wings and a click of claws, eliciting gasps from the surrounding ponies. Even on her second trip here, she was still a novelty. Great. It didn't help that last time, she’d insulted about half the town.

Granted, now that she thought back to it, she had just lashed out – an instinctive move for a being under emotional duress.

When had she started using those words? Twilight must have had a bigger effect on her than she’d thought.

Eh. Past was the past, and dwelling on it changed nothing. At least, that was what they said. The past had a lot of very important lessons, and it was imperative to learn from the experiences long past to improve one's future. Dwelling did change the future, now that she thought about it.

As she knocked on the wooden door, she thought about the aliens. Their arrival, along with the ponies, had been a godsend. It had looked like a diplomatic thing at first – three mysterious beings from the stars, a Princess and two pony advisers – but without their help, the death toll on their side would have been much higher. Fate? Destiny? Gilda hated those concepts. More like luck.

The door opened, and she spotted the tiny, purple-green lizard that had ruined the cake back on that fateful day. What a waste of food. She only hoped that he got diarrhea from eating the dirtied dessert. Knowing dragons, however, he’d been the only one to eat that thing without getting sick.

Twilight Sparkle looked up from behind the dragon, her face lighting up in joy as she beheld her visitors. “Come in!” She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, what with the lines around her eyes, and the bags under them. Her mane wasn’t like the usual straight cut she’d had when she’d first arrived at the camp, either; rather, it looked fuzzy and frizzled, with strands jutting this way and that.

Dash and Gilda did so. The pegasus took one look at the myriad of bookshelves, and feigned a faint. Judging by Twilight's rolled eyes, that happened quite a lot.

In front of the griffon, on a table, was an abacus placed on top of a wide piece of paper. Gilda’s sharp eyes picked out the sharp, thin lines that represented diagrams and blueprints, alongside the squirrelly writing of equations. Just looking at those made her head hurt. Instead, she focused on the unicorn and the architecture of the library.

It was a very defensible position, she noted. The high alcoves looked over the entrance, and bookshelves carved out of the wall lined the walls under them, so that a sharpshooter holed up in them wouldn’t be surprised or ambushed. A thin, narrow and completely exposed staircase led up to the second floor, which was blocked by a heavy wooden door. The floor of the library looked completely barren, and seemed to lack cover of any kind, apart from a few stylistically placed, lonely wooden statues that stood a good distance apart from one another.

The dragon buzzed off, probably to cover the kitchen in mud.

“Gilda! What brings you here?” Twilight asked, crossing a hoof over her chest in an admirable copy of the traditional griffon greeting. Gilda smiled, and reciprocated the gesture. Dash hadn’t bothered to learn it, or couldn’t remember the nuances. She couldn't remember the reason why the pegasus had never bothered to greet her like that.

“They made me a liaison officer,” she said, a tired smile on her face. “You know, for the ISP project.”

“Oh? I thought they’d choose someone with, no offense meant, more diplomatic experience.”

Gilda rolled her eyes at the jab. Still, she appreciated the fact that Twilight hadn’t been scared of being direct. “Nah, they picked me. Guess it was ‘cause I worked with you and the Princess, back in that town.”

“Ah.” Twilight’s ears drooped, and her eyes seemed to stare vacantly for a moment, before she jerked her head back up to face Gilda. “Sorry, just… what happened to you?”

“Still have the dreams, huh?” Gilda said quietly. “I understand.”

Rainbow Dash, who’d been feigning sleep all this time, blinked one eye open.

“You too?” Twilight murmured. “I thought I was the only one. I thought there was something wrong with me –”

Gilda shook her head, interrupting Twilight’s panicked mumbles. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“It’s always the fire,” Twilight said distantly, eyes misted over. “Even now, I can still remember the smell.”

“For me, it’s the way I got this.”

Gilda simply tapped her chest, feathers flecked with brown and black alongside her natural purple. Truth of the matter was, the blood and soot she’d gotten on her feathers had dried, and some of it had stubbornly stayed on her, no matter how many showers she went through. The army doctor had recommended a chemical to remove it; she’d declined, saying that it was fine. A war trophy, or a record of actions past.

She almost spat as she thought of the word ‘trophy’, remembering the taste of the blood as it had splashed all over her front and face. Spotting Twilight's puzzlement, she continued. “Couldn’t wash out all of the blood and soot.”

Twilight shivered unconsciously, whilst Dash jerked upright instantly. “Gilda, what have you been doing?” the pegasus demanded.

“Fighting in battle,” Twilight murmured softly. “You’ve read the news about Winterhold? Gilda: what happened to your soldiers? How have they been?”

Gilda squinted as the memories sprang to the forefront of her mind; Hans in a hospital bed, along with a few of the soldiers under her command; Anya, who’d excitedly shown her the letter of acceptance into the sikskysher corps; Hans, in the hospital gym, surrounded by nurses and aides whilst she sparred with him; ten resignation letters that had fallen into her claws as she unlocked her mailbox, splayed out on top of her own; delivering the bundles to her own commanding officer; and the whole platoon, saluting her, before they went their separate ways.

“They’re good,” she said, a wistful smile on her face. And they deserved to live good and full lives, she thought, for the things that they’d done for the sake of their people.

“Good,” Twilight replied, with a smile of her own, whilst Dash stared incredulously at the duo.

“So, you?” Gilda asked awkwardly. She really wished she’d sharpened up on her social skills before this. Barking out orders and making up speeches she was good at – this, she wasn’t.

The purple unicorn perked up. “Princess Luna made me the magician lead for the ISP! Can you believe that?”

Gilda actually could, if Dash wasn’t exaggerating about how smart Twilight was in her letters to the griffon. She smirked. "Yeah, I could."

“We’re sending over a few of our own engineers and physicists,” the griffon remarked, once Twilight had stopped hopping on her hooves. If it was even possible, her smile got even wider. “Hope that’ll warm up relations even more. I’m supposed to be the one that gets both of the sides to work, so I guess I’ll be working with you three a lot more.”

“I hope you’ll get along with the zebra alchemists,” Twilight remarked, giggling a bit.

“They’re working on the fuel mixes and propulsion systems, and the minotaurs on the metallurgy,” the unicorn continued, noticing that Gilda’s confusion became more and more apparent as she went on. “Oh, never mind.”

“You guys really got the whole world together on this, it seems,” Gilda remarked, shaking her head. Once upon a time, xenophobia and war would have marked times when two different species met. Her country’s own history was spotted with those events. Their legacies were still present in today's griffon government policies.

“What happened between you two?” Dash exclaimed, pulling the attention of the two towards her. “I mean, you’ve met before, but you two didn’t even talk to one another last time! And now you’re best buddies?”

Was that jealousy? Gilda smirked, and Twilight giggled. Dash huffed, crossing her hooves over one another, in a display of annoyance.

Maybe it was time to let her taste some of her own medicine.

“I thought you’d be in Canterlot,” Gilda said, turning back to Twilight, who picked up some tea from a set of cups that the dragon had set down.

The unicorn nodded. “I thought I would have to as well, but we reached a compromise. I just send the blueprints and plans through Spike here!” She pointed to the dragon, who didn’t seem pleased at all. Did he ever?

“Damn shame, Twilight. Looks like Canterlot’s gonna be my new home,” the griffon replied, cracking a quick smirk.

“I’ll visit, once in a while,” Twilight said, returning that same crooked smile. She noticed the two blue feathers still present on the back of Gilda’s head, alongside a red one. “What do those feathers represent?”

“One griffon’s achievements in life,” Gilda muttered, distantly. “The blue represents that I have once been military, and two of them mean that I got to an officer rank. The red one means that I do work for the government, now. And the black and brown flecks – you know where that comes from.”

Twilight’s wan smile disappeared, to be replaced by a frowning grimace, as if she’d eaten something bitter.

“You never told me about that,” Dash butted in, sparking up some flickers of annoyance somewhere deep inside Gilda.

The griffon herself shrugged. “I didn’t have those, the last time I saw you,” she replied. “And you never asked.”

“Fine,” Dash conceded, grumbling. "Twilight, how come you've never told me about any of this?"

The unicorn sighed softly. "I didn't want you girls to be worried about me. I thought I was going to be fine by myself, and I turned out alright, I suppose. There wasn't any need."

The real reason, Gilda thought, was that she was ashamed of what she'd been a part of. The griffon herself sometimes felt the same way. The local stigma towards violence didn't really help.

"They're her secrets," Gilda said, glancing outside a nearby window inset into the tree. A bunch of ponies had gathered outside. Looked like 50 total, if she had to guess.

She bristled, and spread her weight out into a lower stance. It always paid to be prepared, in case the worst came to worst. By now, the move was so natural that she didn't even have to consciously adopt the position; she'd only noticed when she found her eye-level a little lower than usual.

Dash noticed the move, as did Twilight. The latter unicorn blinked, eyes widening, before summoning a shield around the griffon and her pegasus friend. They could all hear expressions of surprise and complaint rolling in from the kitchen; the dragon must have been shielded as well, then.

Keeping the shield up, Twilight edged around her table until she could see out of the window. She sighed.

Gilda couldn't tell why, but that sigh resonated frustration and resignation. "They're here for you, I think," Twilight said, dispelling the shields. Rainbow Dash's yelps of surprise went unheard between the two of them.

The griffon nodded once, quickly and professionally, before slinking to the wall and pressing herself against it. So much for a relaxing trip overseas, then. Twilight trotted over to the door, opening it with her magic.

The first thing that came through the open doorway wasn't a projectile, although it could have passed for one; rather, it was a creature. A very pink, very energetic creature.

"Oh my gosh!" the pink menace gasped, exaggerating her movements as if she was performing for some invisible crowd. "Gilda!"

The griffon squinted, focusing upon the vibrating pink mass in front of her. She dropped back to her lowered combat stance. If anything came up, she'd be ready as ever.

She still missed her gun and her knife, though.

Pink continued to blather onwards. "I didn't know you were coming back! We should really set up a party -"

"No," Gilda barked, in her best impression of her drill sergeant. She distinctly remembered that this was the only place that she'd ever needed to do this. Oh well.

She must have broken down the walls separating the pony's mind from the world, because Pinkie suddenly stopped her rambling monologue and actually started to listen for once.

"I don't want to," she continued, lowering her volume. Barking orders took a lot out of one's voice, and Gilda's was no exception. "And I'm busy."

"You don't look very busy, silly filly," Pink replied merrily.

And Twilight doesn't look like she's helped with the razing of a town. And I don't look like I've killed more of my own people than I can count on both my claws. Gilda threw a glance downwards, at her marked feathers. Actually, scratch that second one.

Pinkie must have noticed, for her eyes drifted downwards until she was staring at Gilda's dirtied chest feathers.

"Pinkie, what's with the crowd outside?" Dash asked, butting in. Gilda could tell that the pegasus was itching to have some attention be put on her again. She was twitching, and her wings fluffed out from time to time, as if they had minds of their own. She wasn't comfortable, that was for sure.

Pinkie gasped again. "Well, I noticed Gilda was back and so I planned a party and of course I had to invite everypony so nopony would miss out but because Gilda said she doesn't like parties and the party is to celebrate her coming back here so I guess they're all here for no reason -"

As Pinkie rattled off her machine-gun mouth, Gilda shifted to her normal standing posture just in time to see the backup arrive through the front door of the library. Twilight was amongst them.

The farmer and the yellow scaredy-pony gaped upon seeing her, but the white one looked indifferent, if not guarded.

Gilda laughed emptily. "And here I was, thinking that they were about to kill me."

Twilight spluttered, alongside the other five ponies. "Ponyville isn't like that!"

She took another glance outside, and grimaced. "They don't seem very happy though, I have to say."

"Time to go, I suppose," the griffon muttered, ignoring the multitude of reactions from the ponies inside the library. "Gotta be in Canterlot by nightfall. Damn curfews. Keep in touch, Twilight Sparkle."

She extended a clenched claw, in place of a hoof, to knock against Twilight's own. The both of them did so.

With a whisper of wind, Gilda blasted out of the open doorway, heading off to the capital.

Twilight looked at her retreating form, smiling softly. For all of Gilda's abrasiveness, there was a good soul inside. The trick was to unlock it without being rubbed raw in the first place.

She turned her attention back to her five friends, ignoring the slowly dispersing crowd. They'd made themselves comfortable inside the library, she saw, and she closed the door with an audible clack.

Five mares stared confusedly at her.

It was time. Time to let it all out. They'd understand. If someone as emotionally blunt as Gilda did, then her friends definitely would. Why did she even doubt them in the first place?

No time for second thoughts. Live and let die.

"You see..."

--
END NOTES:

Winterhold was never recolonized by the griffons. To this day, it remains a cautionary tale of the dangers of pride, and curiosity going too far.

After that fateful salvage mission, Sev received another job offer from the two, and stayed as head of corporate security for the burgeoning business.

The launch of the Century Winterhold, almost 100 years after first-contact, was one of the defining moments of history for all races involved. Aided by the continued financial and intellectual support of the Equestrian Princess Luna, the magical expertise of the unicorn Twilight Sparkle, the alchemical genius of the zebra Manisa and the griffon engineering prodigy Erik Sesson sak Tallis, design and construction of the Century Winterhold proceeded at unprecedented speeds. None of the original architects of the space program lived to see their creation reach for the heavens, except for Luna; but their mentions at the launch event drew minute-long standing ovations from everyone present.

The Triumvirate Salvage company grew into a respectably sized firm. After the death of one of its founders, Levin Risvirix, of natural causes at the age of 135, the remaining founder decided to sell a substantial share of the firm to a larger conglomerate. Levin's small, private funeral was attended by the company's co-founder and his close friend, Riana Serrin, and the krogan Sev. The former retrained as a diplomat, and the latter remained her private bodyguard.

The Defiance of Luna made official first-contact with a Rannoch Admiralty vessel, jointly operated by the quarian race and the geth, in the year 2301 CE. A short introductory trip to the Citadel was quickly arranged, and the news broadcast onto the galactic extranet. Most of the galaxy's response was muted, but not unwelcome.

The races of that planet, which had been formally named 'Equis' in the intervening years, came together under the banner of the Equis Accord. After their formal introduction to the galaxy by the Citadel Council, their leaders requested a specific person as their liason between their government and the Citadel; a relatively unknown, relatively young asari diplomat by the name of Riana.

The Systems Alliance, supposedly spotting parallels between themselves and the newcomers, struck up a research deal with the Equis Accord for mutual study into the other's history and origins.

RECEIVED.

Comments

[N00813]

And so the journey ends.

[G S tol Kriaal]

Wow... I kinda want a sequel now

[Killbot3.0]

stubbornlynaive.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/Slow-Clap.gif
That is all.

[sgtnolisten]

1463526 With a quiet exit stage right...

[bright_mind]

loved it

[Commander Jenna Cipher]

So. Awesome!

[Grif_Bladefeather]

still point out even if equstria didn't go after them, the crew would still be as good as dead, when word came out about what they did the turian and krogan governments wouldn't forgive it.