Spectre Evaluation - Zepheras Agorix, [Closed: Yarik]

[Schmidt]

Alexander looked over the report once more, making sure he had all the details fixed firmly in his mind. He'd read the information given to him three times thus far - a fourth, including this time - and still the actual assignment was difficult to comprehend. This was not a simple mission. Then again his very first assignment as a spectre - the infiltration of the Saints on Omega - hadn't exactly been easy, or simple for that matter. But that mission had been completed and now the Inquisitor had given him yet another task.

Zepheras Agorix, a member of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch since 2197, had been seriously wounded in an assignment some time ago. A period of hospitalization had followed but, instead of returning to active duty, Zepheras had decided to take a period of leave from the branch. That in itself had shocked the Inquisitor and senior members of the branch but not moreso than his attempt to return to active duty. Rarely did spectres leave and then attempt to return.

This particular turian had attempted to do just that. The Inquisitor had met with her closest colleagues and after a period of discussion they had come to a decision. Zepheras was to undergo re-evaluation to assess whether he was capable both physically and mentally for the stresses of such a job. There was an issue with that plan though in that many Spectres were currently on assignment or on leav themselves. They had turned to Alexander Toth, a relatively new and perhaps untested spectre, to conduct the re-evaluation.

Some forty five minutes prior to the re-reading of the report he'd sent a message to Zepheras Agorix. The message was simple, informing him that he was required to meet Alexander at the docks at the Citadel Tower. It was from there that they would begin their assignment, and it was there that Alexander would actually reveal some of the details to Zepheras. This was a unique case in that the turian had already undergone evaluation once and thus had an idea of what to expect. But that didn't mean it'd make their assignment any easier.

[Yarik Streydus]

Despite the vast array of restaurants and food-service institutionments on the Citadel, Zepheras had only ever found one that made a good Invictus-style louza-shell. The crispy, toasted shell, that tangy fruit and vegetable spread, and, of course, the main attraction: the spicy, juicy, grilled louza meat at the center of the thing. Just the way Zeph's momma made it. Sure, in these parts they'd put on airs about any trifling thing they served out of some fancy 'bistro', but their attitude was a small price to pay for a little pocket of Home. As an upside, the place was at the top of the wards, and not much of a walk from where Zepheras had just been summoned.

Stepping off the elevator, he emerged into the spacey din of the Citadel Tower docks. Speakin of fancy! No matter how many times he'd set foot on those alabaster walkways, Zeph could never get over the majesty of it all. Some of the ships docked here look about the size of a city or two, and the docks themselves had more fancy lights and doohickeys than one of those odd little rave-halls always springing up here and there on Invictus. Must've cost somebody a fortune!

Idly, the former Spectre stood in the enclosure just beyond the elevator doors while he finished the last drops of Elcor Blast X held in his free talon. After throwing his head back and draining the sickly sweet substance from its container, he tossed the can in a convenient waste bin before stepping out and lookin back and forth across the docks for... why was he here again?

Oh, that's right, the Spectre! "Alexander Toth!" he said quietly, a silly grin on his face. Humans and their names- they had a peculiar way of rolling off the tongue that you just couldn't emulate in your head. Still, Zeph couldn't fathom having one for hisself- that just didn't sound like a proper kind of thing, and 'Zepheras' suited him fine enough.

Looking around for the Spectre who had contacted him only an hour or so ago, Zepheras realized he wasn't one for discerning one human from another, what with the lack of any differing facial features, like mandibles or a fringe. Why, without a fringe, Zeph wouldn't know himself from anyone else; he'd probably keel over and wait for the spirits to take him! Or maybe he'd carry on and just wear a hat, or one of those weird hairy things humans kept on their heads.

Finally he spotted the human, looking somewhat perplexed as he stood near the end of the docks, recognizable by the distinctive contrast between the colors of his hair-fringe and his skin. Zepheras waved at the human, and, after swallowing the mouthful of louza he'd been chewing, he called out to him, "Mr. Toth!"

Chewing down a hard piece of toasted shell, he jogged over to where Alexander stood and offered the man a small, but respectful bow. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, sir," came his voice in its backwater accent, his eyes having to look down at the Spectre despite the craning of his neck. "Zepheras Agorix. Friends call me Zeph."

After picking his head back up to a more comfortable orientation, he went to finish off his louza shell with one last titanic bite, before realizing the impolity of doing so without offering Toth even a taste. It was probably more polite than sending him into shock from all the flavor and anaphylaxis, however, so Zeph decided to do away with the non-nonchalance and eat it anyway.

"Anyway," he said, swallowing the final piece of his snack save a single tendon, which he chewed and mulled over idly with one half of his mouth while he spoke out the other, "I'm awful eager to get back to work, so the sooner we can get started, the better."

[Schmidt]

The dark-skinned human watched patiently as the turian strode over to him. This wasn't what he'd been expecting; most spectres were stiff, formal, proud individuals, and they acted that way. This particular turian seemed more interested in being both relaxed and content and, judging by the manner in which he finished his food, uncouth to say the least. The Council had really authorised this individual to act as a spectre? He knew the current Inquisitor, Greywalker, hadn't been Inquisitor then, and wondered if she'd have approved this if she had been.

"Zepheras Agorix," Alexander replied when the turian introduced himself. Alexander's formal demeanour was at odds with the turian's relaxed one, and his use of the turian's full name rather than the shortened name Zepheras had said his friends used was an indication of that. "I have been assigned as your evaluator. No doubt your previous experience with evaluations will come in handy during this assignment. If you would follow me, please?"

He swept a hand towards the ship waiting beside them. It was a ship very few individuals got to see the exterior of, let alone the interior. One of the Operative-class cruisers, created by Felix Armament Industries exclusively for the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch. Only spectres were allowed the use of these vessels, and this particular ship was the one assigned to Alexander upon his promotion to the position of spectre. He'd dubbed it Vigilance, but the times were rare when he actually used the name.

Once inside the ship Alexander proceeded towards the 'bridge' which, given the fact that the vessel was a cruiser, was moderately sized. There he activated the galaxy map, preferring to dive straight into the details of the assignment. "The Council received word that, six days ago, a high-ranking admiral of the Turian Hierarchy went missing. He was last known to be here," he pinpointed an empty section of space, a few thousand kilometers from Palaven. "Travelling by frigate to visit another turian world and give a lecture. Evidently no one suspecting anyone would be bold enough to assault an admiral so deep in Hierarchy space, given the lack of escorts and the classification of ship he was on."

Turning to stride around the bridge, inspecting each station as he went, Alexander continued. "Our job is to get in, investigate the region of space he went missing in, and see if we can determine where he was taken and by whom. We don't know much more than that. If you have any questions, however, now would be the time to ask them."

[Yarik Streydus]

"Zepheras Agorix," said the human, in his odd human voice. All shallow and singular... lonesome, and a smidgen disconcerting if you asked Zeph. He'd never quite got used to talking to humans, and he wasn't sure he ever would. "I have been assigned as your evaluator. No doubt your previous experience with evaluations will come in handy during this assignment. If you would follow me, please?"

The man gestured to the ship beside him in an apathetical manner, as if it wasn't really a marvel of science and engineering, but just a plate of double-fried pampas sticks, covered in-... by the Spirits, Zeph was hungry! Wasn't nothing that had the same effect on the metabolism as the threat of mortal danger!

"O' course," Zepheras affirmed, falling in line behind the spectre and ignoring the piddlin' rumbles coming from his stomach. One-by-one they passed under the airlock, which hissed at them like a root snake as they went on by, then made a beeline for the bridge at the front of the ship. Zeph let out an impressed whistle at the spaciousness of it as his eyes scanned around, trying to take in all the room's nuances. Before he could do much in that regard, the lights dimmed and a glowing, holographic grid of of the galaxy appeared in the air before them.

"The Council received word that, six days ago, a high-ranking admiral of the Turian Hierarchy went missing. He was last known to be here," said Toth, gesturing to a single point in an empty area beneath the cordon designating Heirarchy space. "Travelling by frigate to visit another turian world and give a lecture. Evidently no one suspecting anyone would be bold enough to assault an admiral so deep in Hierarchy space, given the lack of escorts and the classification of ship he was on."

From the turian came a low murmur of confirmation as he nodded his head, an uncharacteristically grim expression gracing his features as the human began to pace about the bridge, his attention now turned to the various system monitors on display. "Our job is to get in, investigate the region of space he went missing in, and see if we can determine where he was taken and by whom. We don't know much more than that. If you have any questions, however, now would be the time to ask them."

"No leads?" Zepheras asked. Six days and no information about the disappearance of an Admiral. Sounded fishy, really, but then that was likely why he and Toth had been asked to handle it.

"Will we be havin' any interference, Mr-..." Zepheras began, cutting himself off as he recalled his current rank, or lack thereof, and struggled to figure out how exactly he was supposed to properly refer to Toth. After a moment of anxious thought, he went with his best guess, and added, "... Spectre. Sir? The local authorities ain't always eager to give folks like us free reign over what they think's their own investigation."

Being that an Admiral's life could be on the line, the turian doubted anyone would obstructrificate the Spectres' investigation, but Zeph had met more than one officer in his time in the military who would have looked at this as a turian matter, to be handled by turians. Add in that old turian-human animosity, and there was a distinct potential for time-wasting ugliness.

[Schmidt]

The turian didn't seem to be taking the situation seriously at first and it annoyed Alexander. This mission had been assigned to both Alexander and Zepheras because the Inquisitor and her senior colleagues had considered this a decent enough assignment for a re-evaluation. Considering this assignment would be the deciding factor in whether or not Zepheras rejoined the ranks of the spectres, Alexander had expected Zepheras would be taking it extremely seriously.

Trying his best to ignore the turian's demeanour, Alexander replied to his initial question. "The Hierarchy has revealed that this particular admiral was the source of a hate campaign; his stance on the Citadel Council and the Hierarchy's relations with the Systems Alliance - a pro-stance - caused some displeasure from an extremist group. Name, location and populace of this group remains unknown." Alexander looked again at the area of space the galaxy map had focused on.

It was almost completely in the middle of space between Palaven and the admiral's intended planet. Somewhere along that relatively linear space journey the admiral's ship must have been assaulted, with the boarding party obviously making off with the turian admiral and leaving behind relatively few clues. If they'd left clues the Hierarchy wouldn't have asked the Council to assign spectres to the investigation. An admiral was an important figure, especially in the military-oriented Hierarchy.

"I doubt we will see any interference," Alexander said, not taking his eyes from the galaxy map. For a few seconds he said little, and then he did look up, nodding to one of the crewmen to his right. That nod relayed the order and the crewman walked away without saying a word. "The Hierarchy has asked for our assistance in this. Local governments will ultimately bow to their superiors, who have summoned us." As he spoke the ship began to move; finally the Vigilance was leaving the Citadel, heading for Hierarchy space.

"We should arrive at our intended destination in three hours," the human said, turning and striding towards the back of the bridge. "I will be in my quarters. Take this time to prepare yourself. Train in the hangar, if necessary. If you require anything of me, the lift will bring you to the my quarters on the uppermost deck." Entering the waiting elevator, he turned finally and looked at the turian. "And you may call me Alexander."

[Yarik Streydus]

"The Hierarchy has revealed that this particular admiral was the source of a hate campaign; his stance on the Citadel Council and the Hierarchy's relations with the Systems Alliance - a pro-stance - caused some displeasure from an extremist group. Name, location and populace of this group remains unknown," explained Toth, his shallow-set eyes looking intently at the map in front of him as if it was a hot steaming bowl of toskea stew- by the Spirits, Zeph was hungry. If only thinking about food was as satisfying as eating it!

"Mm-hmm," came a noise of confirmation from the turian's direction while he wracked his mind muscle trying to recall any knowledge that might be to the Spectre's liking, ultimately coming up empty-taloned. Zepheras had never been of a kind to fraternizate with hateful types of people, and whoever this bunch was, he doubted they'd kidnapped an admiral just to feed him dinner.

"The Hierarchy has asked for our assistance in this. Local governments will ultimately bow to their superiors, who have summoned us." The human sounded particularly confident in that sentimentilation, so Zepheras deferred to his judgement and remained quiet.

"We should arrive at our intended destination in three hours.I will be in my quarters. Take this time to prepare yourself. Train in the hangar, if necessary. If you require anything of me, the lift will bring you to the my quarters on the uppermost deck." said Toth as he paced his way back to the rearmost part of the bridge, where he stepped onto a patiently-waiting elevator and looked at the turian, who hadn't moved an inch from the position he'd held when the lights had dimmed. "And you may call me Alexander."

How polite of him! What since the Spectres didn't really have any protocols about how to intereact, it made some sense to just call each other by their spirit-given names. Still, it didn't sit too well with Zepheras to call a man he didn't know by his first name, so Toth it was.

He seemed like a nice enough kind of fella, far as Zeph could tell, and a plenty good Spectre to be evaluating under. Maybe a bit hoity-toity, but the position just seemed to have that effect on some folks. Zeph considered taking him up on his offer, maybe get to know the fella bit better, but he didn't seem the type to appreciate them types of intrusions.

"Many thanks for all your hospitality," the turian declared, the last extended syllable slipping out between his jaws just as the elevator doors came to a close.

Three hours... Zeph wondered how many Cupisum Dough-balls he could eat before they arrived at their destination. That was, supposing the ship's mess hall was even equipped with the proper equipment to undertake such a cuisinary challenge; likely they would have at least something safe for a turian like hisself to snack on, so he headed off down the ship's main corridor in the direction he thought would most likely lead him to the cafetorium. After that, if there was enough time, he could ask around about a firing range to get some last-minute practice, but for the moment he was full of a lonesome desire to eat until he couldn't eat no more.

[Schmidt]

Upon entering his quarters Alexander took off his jacket, tossing it onto the nearest chair with a sigh. This month had definitely been a busy one, and he could only hope that upon completing his evaluation of Zepheras the Inquisitor would see fit to give him at least a couple of days for rest. Probably not - there were usually enough assignments to keep a spectre busy - but one could always hope.

Upon becoming a spectre himself one of his colleagues had told him that the life expectancy of a spectre was indeterminate, because whilst they went on exceedingly dangerous missions they had the best training available. Occasionally, like in this instance, Alexander wondered what his life expectancy would be. Had it changed upon becoming a member of the spectres? He was already 'old' by the standards of some races, like the salarians, but with the medical strides humanity had made he was roughly half the average human lifespan.

A puzzle indeed.

Reaching over to his computer he typed in his authorisation code before proceeding to activate the monitoring system. Flicking through each screen he finally found what he was looking for; the turian, sitting in the cantina, snacking on some form of food that Alexander couldn't make out. He let out a small laugh. Yes, Zepheras seemed like the type to eat rather than train. He was definitely an interesting turian and, by Alexander's standards, not exactly spectre material. But someone obviously thought different, and he wouldn't allow his prejudices to come into play.

Closing the monitoring system the human then activated his personal log, speaking clearly as he made a note. "Personal log, October 2200. I have departed from the Citadel with the turian Zepheras Agorix. We're heading into Hierarchy space to begin the assignment passed to us by the Inquisitor, which will serve as the re-evaluation of Zepheras. I'm not sure what to make of him yet; he seems far more relaxed than any spectre I've come across and his lack of formality troubles me. Still, someone obviously saw skills and talents that I have yet to see, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now."

A brief entry, he thought as he closed the log. Leaning back in his chair, Alexander once again thought back to the life expectancy issue. But there wasn't a reaper-in-hell's chance he was going to spend three hours thinking about that depressing subject. So instead he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift into the eternal void, knowing that in two hours and fifteen minutes the computer would alert him to their status. Enough time for some shut eye.

[Yarik Streydus]

A good 45 minutes after Zeph’d gone into the canteen, his stomach empty and his eyes all full of hunger, he found himself trudging across the main access corridor on a direct route to the recreation hall. He hoped, in the interimical time between leaving the citadel and showing up wherever it was in Heirarchy space they were headed, that he could at least burn off a couple of the calories he’d just stuffed down his craw, but decided as he stepped onto the foam-covered floor of the gym that he was more likely to end up in a gunfight today than a good old talon-to-talon brawl, and made his way towards the shooting range.

The armory guard, and, apparently, firing range attendant, started to check his credentials when he arrived, then realized there weren't likely any other large red turians wandering around the ship and went to check him out a weapon. Zeph nearly spoke up and stopped him, what since he already had a few functioning guns of his own (and more than a few non-functioning ones), but thought he’d see what the armory had to offer instead; when the human slid the peashooter under the safety glass for him, a simper spread up his face.

”That’s alright, pardner, I’ve got my own,” came the turian’s rural twang as he de-holstered the heavily-modified pistol from his belt, swinging its familiar weight around in his talon as the human behind the safety glass took the pistol back off of the desk and set it aside. “Should’ve guessed,” he muttered, setting a pair of thermal clips down where the gun had been.

As he scooped the things up in his talon, Zepheras gave the man a friendly nod. “Much obliged.”

--

An ear-piercing crack thundered through the firing range, rattling all those present who hadn’t electificated to wear ear protection, and drawing the confused attention of most of those who had to the brick-colored turian in the middle booth. He quietly chuckled at the old familiar sensation of little Butea going off in his talon; it’d been awhile since he’d had a chance to let her loose, and Spirits, that shoulder-jolting recoil made Zeph want to dance.

He fired a second shot, and watched with a grin as the second bullet landed a few inches closer to the center of his target than the first one. It was still a way’s off the mark, but then that was why he was practicing. A third shot ripped through Butea’s over-sized barrel, tearing through the air and colliding with the bullseye.

”Hot damn!” Zepheras cheered, and fired off another two rounds down the range; neither hit in the center ring, but they came close enough that the former Spectre was satisfied with them. Not satisfied enough to go and leave, of course; no, he was only just getting started, and he intended to spend as much intimate time with Butea as he could.

--

Somewhere in the region of an hour and a half -and 10 or so thermal clips- later Zepheras made his way back to the bridge, his talon aching from Butea’s fiesty temper. She was a nasty witch when she wanted to be, just like the woman she was named for; if looks could kill, they’d be on par for lethality too. ‘Course, all of that stopped mattering soon as Zeph wrapped his talons around her...

And now she sat idle on the former Spectre’s hip, swinging back and forth as he strode past the automatic bulkhead, his eyes roaming across the busy crewmen in search of a human by the name of Alexander Toth. Hopefully he’d find the Spectre here, and avoid interrupting any important work he might be doing up in his cabin; having some man-to-man words with someone as experienced as Toth seemed sounded like a grand old time, but the turian was chomping at the bit to get started.

[Schmidt]

As he had expected the computer chimed repeatedly to alert him to the fact that they were approaching their intended destination. Slowly opening his eyes, he grimaced as the piercing sound the computer was making assailed his eardrums. Why oh why had he set it to be so damn loud? He reached over and hit a random space on the screen. The noise refused to abate. Agitated, he continued hitting the screen until he finally hit the right button. The alarm fell into silence.

Rising from his chair, the human stretched his arms skyward as he attempted to work out the cramp in his right shoulder. This happened every time he fell asleep in his chair. God only knew why he still did it; old habits and all that. Rolling his shoulders in a further attempt to release the tension and aching there, he looked around the room. No, nothing had changed. He didn't expect it would have. The crew knew not to enter without his permission, and to contact him via his communicator if they needed him.

Grabbing his coat - some might call it a trench coat but though it was similar in appearance it was actually made out of basic materials, not leather - and checking his heavy pistol was holstered securely he turned and left the cabin, pressing the button designated "bridge" on the elevator control panel. Journey's in lifts were quite boring and he was forced to merely look around the same interior he'd seen countless times as he passed the seconds away. Finally the door opened, and he stepped out into the central command area of his ship.

"Status?" He called, moving to stand by the galaxy map. The ship's yeoman, Alice Lowe, turned from her computer screen to reply. "We're approaching the last known location of the admiral's frigate, sir." A very basic report but it reinforced his own knowledge about the situation. He was about to reply when he heard the lift opening, and this time the turian spectre was dispersed onto the bridge by that infernally dull machine. Alexander nodded to him, waving him over to the galaxy map.

"Go to yellow alert," the human ordered. Whatever had assailed the admiral's frigate might still be around and he wasn't taking any chances. Though a naval officer by career, he didn't want his tombstone reading "and he was blasted out of space by an unknown enemy before he could really begin his assignment". How disgraceful that would be. "Long range scans of the area please. I want to know if there's anything out there." Alexander took a few more seconds to scan the galaxy map, and was about to turn to Zepheras when one of the crewmen spoke up.

"Sir, we're picking up a frigate on long range scans. A couple of thousand kilometers out. It looks to be in pretty bad shape." The admiral's frigate, perhaps? "No lifesigns." Quickly formulating a plan, Alexander made a decision and set about putting it into effect. "Hold position here. Keep scanning the area; I want to know if there are any approaching ships. Zepheras," he turned to the turian. His imposing figure was something Alexander knew he'd be glad to have by his side if combat came about.

"You're with me. We'll take a shuttle and head over to the frigate. We can conduct an investigation there and see if there are any clues pertaining to the admiral's kidnappers or his location." Without another word the human spectre turned and strode back towards the lift, releasing a slight sigh as he did so. Oh, another few seconds of boring-non-activity. Fun.

[Yarik Streydus]

A lot of activity on the bridge flared up all of the sudden, as all the crewmen and women flitted around their stations like flies on a dead varren. Zepheras realized after a few seconds that the man directing them was Alexander; Zeph had been looking for the clothing he'd been wearing earlier- on account of his face being hard to recognize by turian standards- and hadn't considered that the man might throw on a coat before he came back down to join the party.

"Sir, we're picking up a frigate on long range scans. A couple of thousand kilometers out. It looks to be in pretty bad shape." called out one of the crewmen to Toth, who turned his head from the holographic map in front of him and towards the other human as he continued, adding,"No lifesigns."

"Hold position here. Keep scanning the area; I want to know if there are any approaching ships. Zepheras," the Spectre said, turning to the other side to look at the turian who'd walked up to stand beside him during the commotion. "Alexander," the turian replied with an acknowledgatory nod of his head, hiding the strangeness he felt at calling the man by his first name. But 'Alexander' was what the man'd said, so Zeph obliged.

"You're with me. We'll take a shuttle and head over to the frigate. We can conduct an investigation there and see if there are any clues pertaining to the admiral's kidnappers or his location."

"Right behind ya'," Zepheras replied as he followed the Spectre into the elevator, and was uncharacteristically quiet during the ride; they had an Admiral to rescue, and no amount of talk was gonna' get that done.

As the elevator came to a halt and opened into the hangar, the turian set a quick pace for the nearest shuttle.

[Schmidt]

With his heavy pistol holstered on the right side of his waist and his shock baton securely in place on the opposite side, Alexander followed the turian across the hangar bay. The turian seemed to have an eye on one of the shuttles in particular and Alexander had no qualms with letting him choose which he wanted to use for the short trip between the Vigilance and the admiral's frigate. It didn't take long for the human and turian to get inside the shuttle and power up its systems, checking everything was in synch and in proper working order.

"Bridge this is Toth. We're ready for departure. Keep a fix on us and keep those scans going. Toth out." He didn't wait for a response, instead cutting the channel and keying for the hangar doors to open. The hiss of hydraulics as they slowly dragged themselves apart was audible even inside the shuttle. His hands ran over the console in front of him as he lifted the shuttle from its resting place and, carefully, pushed it outside the cruiser and into space proper.

Alexander had never been talented at flying. Oh, give him command of a vessel - frigate, cruiser, it didn't matter what type - and he could win a battle like a man might drink Elcor Blast X. But personally piloting a ship wasn't his forte. An irony, perhaps. Regardless, the journey from his ship to the admiral's was virtually a linear path and that he could handle. Before too long they came in range of the frigate and, through the view screen, Alexander could see the ship he had come to investigate.

What surprised him was that the ship seemed to be in perfect condition. There were no marks. No hull breaches. Running lights were off, but the ship itself was still visible. The eeriest thing, perhaps, was that the hangar bay doors were open and the barriers that prevented atmosphere from escaping and depressurising the hangar bay were still active. Glancing warily at the turian, he piloted the shuttle int the hangar bay and set it down gently.

"This is your evaluation," Alexander said as he rose from the pilot's chair and started to make his way off the shuttle. "So the lead is yours. You command, and I'll follow. I think you know how this works." The human drew his heavy pistol - made for the Spectres by Felix Armament Industries - and checked he had a clean heat sink in, before nodding to Zepheras. The evaluation began now.

[Yarik Streydus]

With a purpose in his pace, Zeph ambled his way through the shuttle’s airlock, bending his head to fit beneath the dooframe. Thankfully the ceiling past the door was high enough for him to stand without straining his neck- it was a bad time for sitting, far as Zeph saw it, and just as bad a time to get a crick in his neck. Course, he could’ve just went and tried to fly the shuttle himself, but Toth seemed eager enough to do it, and chances were he’d be better at it anyhow.

"Bridge this is Toth. We're ready for departure. Keep a fix on us and keep those scans going. Toth out," came the human’s eerily shallow voice as the shuttle slowly lifted off the floor of the hangar and began to mosey on out into the wild black yonder, intent on what appeared to be the Admiral's ship.

From his position standing just behind the cockpit, Zeph could tell alexander wasn’t as confident as he could be behind the controls, but he was still a damn sight better at it than the turian could’ve managed; he'd probably miss the other ship's hangar and crash into its broadside if it were him turning the joystick.

All of Zepheras' attention shifted from Toth's skill at piloting to the dark outline of the frigate as soon as he spotted it against the starry space framing it. The thing was hard to make out with all its lights off, but it didn’t look like there a scratch on the thing bigger than a pyjack claw- if there had been a fight over the ship, it must’ve been short.

Unperturbated by the eeriness of the armor-plated frigate hanging lifelessly in the abyss, Toth piloted the shuttle past the open hangar doors and put her down gently. But why were the hangar doors open? If some varmints had tried to board the ship, the Captain would have put it on lockdown, and the hangar would’ve been the first thing to get sealed up tight. Either whatever’d happened had happened so quick they hadn’t even been able to shut the airlock, or it had been opened after the fact; Zeph couldn’t think of an explanation for either situation that made much sense. "Nice flyin', Toth," he offered with a smile and a clap on the human's squishy back, before shimmying over to the shuttle airlock, his talon wrapped gently around Butea in her holster. Sitting around thinking about what had happened it wasn’t likely to give them any answer.

As Zeph’s other talon reached for the door release, Alexander picked himself up out of the pilot's seat, saying, "This is your evaluation, so the lead is yours. You command, and I'll follow. I think you know how this works."

A wide simper tugged at the turian's cheeks. "Just like old times," he said, and jammed the button in the panel on the door. The airlock slid open at his authoritative touch, and he strode out of the shuttle with a pep in his step. "We oughta' get ourselves to the bridge first thing and see if there ain't a lead on our missin' admiral."

Spirits, it was good to be giving orders again. Not that Zeph had ever had a particular liking for command- it just felt one step closer to being a Spectre again. For the sake of thoroughocity, the brick-red turian added, "And, o' course, keep your eyes peeled. Just 'cause there ain't any life signs doesn't mean this ship's empty."

After that was done, Zepheras set off for the heavy airlock door at the end of the hangar, each step of his heavy boots bouncing off the far-off metallic walls as he started for the bridge, moving more carefully as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the ship’s lifeless corridors.

[Schmidt]

Without a word the human half of the duo followed in Zepheras' footsteps. He was content to allow the turian to take the lead here, partly because it would allow him to evaluate the turian better and also because, as a turian, there was a good chance he'd have a better understanding of this frigate's layout and thus be able to reach the bridge in a quicker and more efficient time. With Alexander at the lead they'd be stood puzzling at every corridor and each corner, and any junctures they came across would definitely need several minutes of thinking to make a decision.

Zepheras, however, seemed to know where he was going. The turian moved cautiously it seemed, keen to take in any sights he came across and taking his time to adjust to the frigate's interior. Though it wasn't lit brilliantly, dim lights made passage through the ship possible. Barely. His own human eyes took some time to adjust to the light settings, and he dearly wished he'd brought some form of night vision equipment with him. It would have made things much easier.

Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes rolled into one another. They had just rounded another corner when Alexander paused. Something reached his ears - a sound unlike anything he'd heard before - and it gave his legs reason to stop. The second wasn't there when he stopped, however, and with a raised eyebrow he shook his head and jogged to catch up to Zepheras. They had taken but a few more steps when he heard it again, and this time he called the turian's attention to it.

"Wait." There it was again. At this distance it sounded like something sharp being dragged across metal. And there was a clicking sound, very slight but still barely audible. The two sounds combined together made for a very eerie addition to the otherwise perfect silence of the frigate. "Whatever that is, I don't like the sound of it. What do you think? Should we investigate, or head for the bridge?" A slight test, if an unexpected one. There were three options, and Alexander waited for the turian to assess them and make a choice.

[Yarik Streydus]

The hallway didn’t look like it still existed anywhere further than 6 or so feet in front of Zepheras, who chewed his lip as he strode carefully but quickly through the darkness. He was beginning to get a good feel for the layout of the ship by now; it was a turian design of course, so he knew real surely where the bridge would be relative to the hangar, but from here he could place most of the vital systems of the ship on the map in his mind’s eye. The security room wouldn’t be too long a walk from where he and the spectre were now, but with the power off, it’d be locked down indefinitively.

The tips of his crest tingled when he heard a noise he didn’t recognize from one of the nearby rooms lining the corridor. Momentarily, he wondered if it was a harmless byproduct from the ship settling. Maybe it’d been shut down only recently- like when Toth’s ship had jumped into range of its sensors. But could it have even shut down like this quickly? They hadn’t searched for long when they’d found it, and Zeph’d thought shutting down a ship as big as this would take longer than a minute or so. That would also require somebody to do the shutting down, which this ship seemed to be lacking so far.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the noise again. It didn’t sound like any kind of noise he recognized, not that he was ever much of a navy man; too much time off real, solid ground beneath his feet made him queasy. Cautious curiosity overtaking him, the turian moved ahead of Toth, hoping he can recognize the noise and its source; even as the eerie clicking repeated, however, his mind drew a blank. When he opened his mouth to give the human a warning, the aforementioned human beat him to the punch.

“Wait, ” said Toth, convenientationally doing the mentioning for him. It’s a bad sign if he thinks its noteworthy too; a fella doesn’t make it to the ranks of the Spectres and survive long without having some kind of uncanny sense of danger.

“I hear it too. No idea what it is though,” was Zepheras’ quiet reply. It sounded like a piece of metal scraping against the ground, like dad’s prosthetic foot in the mornings, when he was too tired to pick it all the way up off the ground on his way to the kitchen. He’d get home so late from his second job, and get up so early for the first... Those first few years on Invictus’d been rough. They weren’t all bad; they’d taught him to cherish the good things in life. But they were rough.

"Whatever that is, I don't like the sound of it. What do you think? Should we investigate, or head for the bridge?"

Tough question. Zeph’s naturally inquisitionatory senses yelped at him to go and see what was the matter, but in this darkness he couldn’t see any matter that wasn’t a foot away from his eyes anyway.

"We'll keep for the bridge," he answered in his characteristic rustic tone. ”If its nothin’, it can wait ‘til we get there to find out, and if its not nothin’, I’d rather not meet it in the dark. ‘Sides, not like it’s goin’ anywhere in the mean time, ‘less it knows some unorthodoxical method of gettin’ off this tin can.”

Of course, he hadn’t actually needed to choose one over the other; there were two of them there, and neither of them was overly-reliant on the other’s presence. Toth didn't have as much experience with the architectural innards of a turian ship, though, and in the darkness he was liable to impale himself on a decoration without Zepheras leading the way. Truth told, he didn’t relish finding whatever might be making that creepy noise on his own, either.

Before he started on the road to the bridge again, the red turian decided to err on the side of caution and pulled the shotgun from his back, then silently regarded the weapon in his hands for a moment. Spirits, she was a beauty! The way her filed-down barrel just barely jutted out past her body, the curve of her folding stock pressed up against her chassis... he’d named this gun well.

“Nimtai,” he purred beneath his breath. She looked a frail little thing, especially for a shotgun, but getting on her bad side while her business-end was pointed at you was the type of mistake you wouldn’t get to repeat. Zeph had tested her enough times to know exactly how much her shots spread, how long it took to ready her between shots, and just the right spot to tickle her to make her sing; she was designed with situations like this in mind, where a man just wouldn’t have time to aim, especially thanks to her filed-down barrel. The law’s stance on that kind of modification was up for grabs, but the turian doubted Toth would notice or care about that at a time like this.

But that was enough doting on his former, and first love for the time being; setting off for the bridge once more, Zeph squeezed his shotgun's handle, bared his teeth in a humorless smile, and hefted his heavily-armored body forward.

[Schmidt]

There were three choices Zepheras could have made. He could have directed them to seek out the source of the noise, continue on towards the bridge and begin their investigation proper, or split the duo up and send on towards each target. He chose not to split up, instead instructing Alexander to follow him as they continued on towards the bridge. A wise choice. One that erred on the side of caution, perhaps, but wise nonetheless. Splitting up in an unusual and potentially dangerous environment wasn't smart, even for spectres.

With his heavy pistol clutched firmly in his hand Alexander pressed on, keeping his eyes focused on the back of the large turian in front of him. The Hierarchy seemed intent on decorating the interiors of their starships with all manner of ornate decorations. Most, it seemed, were focused on past engagements and awards received during those engagements. Alexander had to admit he'd never found himself aboard a turian vessel before; he'd never needed to be on one.

These particular decorations, it seemed, were focused entirely on the vessel itself. From one of the murals he picked out a name - the Honorus Victorious - which was possibly the name of the frigate on which he stood. Various pieces of art depicted the frigate in battle with other classes of ships; most, he would hazard a guess, were nothing more than pirates. A frigate wasn't capable of taking on larger classifications of ships no matter how talented the commander or how advanced the frigate; it just wasn't done.

Refocusing on the path before him, he watched as the scene changed the closer they got to the bridge. Corridors, though still deserted of bodies, began to show what appeared to be acid markings on the walls and floors. Globes of green fluid were plastered here and there and ... yes! Those crates, although now wrecked, appeared to be in a defensive position. Makeshift cover, perhaps? In his mind he was putting two and two together and failing to come up with an answer. Where were they crew? And why were they only just seeing signs of a struggle?

He didn't speak, instead allowing both himself and Zepheras the comfort of silence in order to formulate their thoughts. Well, near silence. That noise from before could still be heard, albeit still at a distance. Whatever was making the noise - if it was indeed a "thing" - was obviously intent on keeping its distance. Best it keep doing that, Alexander thought. He had no desire to meet whatever made such peculiar sounds.

Finally the duo reached the bridge. It was also vacant of bodies, but showed the same signs of a struggle the previous corridors had. How puzzling. "Deserted," Alexander muttered. "This whole ship is deserted. Where is everyone?" He glanced around, still unable to fathom what could have caused such chaos. "Thoughts?" He asked, turning to Zepheras. "Suggestions?"

[Yarik Streydus]

This whole thing was looking real off-kilter. A derelict Hierarchy ship, no signs of struggle, or the Admiral whose ship had disappeared just around this corner of the Galaxy, or anything at all apart from some sketchy noises in the dark.

Truth told, though he kept on a brave face for the spectre, Zeph was more than a little disconcerted by his surroundings. He'd spent his fair share of days aboard various turian vessels just like this one, but never with the power out, and usually without eerie, unrecognizable noises bouncing off the walls. With any luck, though, the bridge'd have the answer to both of those problems.

The scenery began to change as they neared the room in question- the walls and the decorations on it started looking a little tore up and shabby, until near the command deck the walls were full of acid-scorched marks and chips. Finally they had found what appeared to be signs of battle, although they didn't do much except add some more questions to the mystery.

As he stepped past the bridge's open airlock, he noticed the same signs of battle gracing its walls, and still, the distinct lack of bodies or stains of blood. It was like somebody'd come and swept up after the fight, and then shut everything off while they were at it.

"Deserted. This whole ship is deserted. Where is everyone?" Alexander asked. Good question. Turning towards Zeph, who was walking acoss the room toward the captain's console at the center, the added "Thoughts? Suggestions?"

"Let's get this baby fired up," the turian replied, holding his shotgun in one talon while his other ran over the the buttons in search of whichever would turn the console on. "If we can, we oughta' lock this ship down until we know what's going on. The more I see, the more it looks like there's somethin' on this ship that shouldn't get off of it."

A big red button caught his eye, and Zepheras pressed it eagerly. The haptic display at the top of the console lit up as the system slowly came to life. "We can check the cameras from here. I think. If I'm wrong, we can unlock the security room and check 'em there. And we can see if any escape pods are missing, too."

Finally the console finished starting, and the phosphorescent glow of the hologram shed an orange light over the command deck; the turian couldn't remember being so grateful to see his own shadow. The feeling only lasted as long as it took for the console to request an unspecified code from the captain of the ship.

"Oh. I, uh... I don't s'pose you got some kinda' universal overidification code for things like this, do you?" he asked, both hands grasping at his gun again. With Toth's ship on standby, they could likely get the code from the Hierarchy without waiting too long, but Zepheras didn't like the idea of giving anything else that might be on the frigate time to escape.

[Schmidt]

Striding over to the console Zepheras was stood at, Alexander glanced around for another console in which to put a code. It was generally the case that every ship had a main console of sorts which, with the correct code, would allow an individual to override most of the security protocols on a vessel. It took Alexander a few moments to find such a device; unlike on human vessels, the turian version of said console was located to the right rather than in the center.

He was thankful in this moment for his authority as a spectre. It afforded him a degree of knowledge regarding security protocols. That, and the ability to use one particular code to grant him Council override. The code was a highly secure one, changed every time a spectre was captured, went missing or was killed. The second a spectre didn't report in at their allotted time - or another time, given the fact that in certain circumstances reporting in wasn't possible - the code was changed. Security was at the highest level.

Carefully keying the code into the console, Alexander watched as it automatically flashed green, indicating that full access to the ship's systems had been granted. He stepped back, his knowledge on how to work the systems on a turian ship minimal. "She's all yours." Alexander said, waving for Zepheras to get on with whatever he planned to do. At the same time he activated his own communication device, configuring it to send a message to the Vigilance.

"Vigilance this is Toth. Do you read me?" There was some static before the reply came through. "We read you sir. Green lights across the board here. No signs of enemy vessels." So, nothing new had shown its face recently. "Very well. This ship's deserted. Signs of a struggle closer to the bridge. We're continuing the investigation. Toth out." Closing the channel, he was about to turn back to Zepheras when the screeching noise returned.

This time, a lot louder.

Turning on his heels, Alexander peered down the corridor that had led them to the bridge. The dim lighting was all he needed; the large, red creature moving at a rapid pace towards the bridge didn't look friendly. His mind quickly flashed over documents he'd read during his studies, and he knew of the creature coming at him; rachni. Supposedly they were extinct, so what the hell was this one doing charging at him? He didn't pause for thought, throwing himself to the side as it spat a large glob of green acid at him. He felt the impact of his shoulder slamming into a console.

He was reaching for his gun when the rachni, now pushing its way into the bridge, made to spit yet another glob of acid at him ...

[Yarik Streydus]

The spectre puts in his overide code and the system opens up. Praise the spirits for executorial priviledge!

"Thank you kindly, To- Alexander," Zepheras said to the human without actually turning, his golden-hued eyes glued to the display in front of him. He'd never been a technologically apt kind of person, but this system wasn't too difficult to figure out. Getting the backup power generator running took him all of a second or two, and the lights through most the ship's winding corridors switched on afterwards.

A gob of green stuff soared just past Zepheras, dangerously close to that handsome face of his, just as he went to close the hangar doors and radiation vents. He spun around before he could confirm the order, and readied his shotgun when he saw what was charging up the hallway after them.

It was some kind of giant bug-like thing, although it also didn't look too far off from an Invictus mudfish in the face area, with its beady black eyes, the stubby tendrils around its mouth, and the pair of skewed antennas sticking off its head. Its carapace was a dirty, clay-like red, not too far off from the color of Zepheras' plates. It scurried quickly on four legs that scratched the ground as it went, making the metal-on-metal noise they'd been hearing since they'd started towards the bridge.

Alexander was off to the side, only just reaching for his pistol after dodging the first gob of acid the monster had spat at him, but it looked like he wouldn't draw it in time to shoot the bug bearing down on him before it spat again or swiped at him with one of its claws. Thankfully, Zepheras' shotgun was still in his talons, loaded, and ready to fire. Nimtai bucked wildly as he pulled back on her trigger, spraying the attacking creature with a superheated metal fragments.

The impact staggered the varmint enough to give the turian an opening, and after a split second of biotic amp-assisted focusing, he channeled the dark energy in his veins down to his legs and propelled himself towards the creature at a blinding speed. As he neared the ... thing, he reared the butt of his shotgun back and brought it down on the creature's head. The force of the blow reverberated up Zepheras' muscular arm, and a satisfying crack rang out as the bug stumbled backwards and collapsed, its legs still twitching. Olive green ichor dripped from a tear in the center of the plate on its head, a similar substance to the one coating Nimtai's stock.

"Spirits. The hell is this thing?" Zepheras asked, taking a tentative step away from the twitching, but otherwise prostrate, alien on the floor in front of him. He'd never encountered anything like it, so chances were good that Toth would have a better idea of what this insect thing was than he did.

And hopefully he'd know if that twitching meant it was dead or not.

[Schmidt]

The incident occured in a matter of moments and Alexander, still attempting to rip his gun free of his holster, was in that moment thankful for the turian's presence. He'd always been slightly distrustful of turians - not xenophobic, more cautious than anything - but Zepheras had put himself in harms way in order to ensure Alexander's survival. That, or self-preservation; the rachni would probably have gone for Zepheras next so by killing it he'd essentially saved himself too. Still, he was thankful to be alive.

Gripping the console, he pulled himself up and patted his top down. No real reason - the bridge wasn't dusty - but it was a habit. He glanced over at the twitching, very alien form of the deceased rachni and grunted. It explained some of the current situation, but not a lot. It was only then he realised Zepheras had spoke to him. "Rachni," Alexander said bluntly. Obviously Zepheras had never seen one, but it was plausible he may have seen the name in the Council records the spectres were privy to.

"They fought against the Council roughly two thousand years ago when a mass relay to their region of space was opened. It was the reason the Council contacted the krogans; the perfect soldiers to fight these tough little bastards." His pistol now firmly in his hands, Alexander walked over to the rachni and examined it carefully before unleashing two accurate shots. The rachni stopped twitching then, completely limp in death. "They were considered extinct. Well, until recently."

Turning away from the rachni Alexander walked back to the center of the bridge, speaking as he did. It almost seemed like he was telling a story. "Commander Shepard uncovered rachni experimentations on Noveria, during his search for Saren. Most recently they appeared at Omega along with yahg, fighting for the reaper. The Council has people working on discovering where these two races came from. This could be a major lead." He paused. Was Zepheras already privy to this knowledge? Possibly, but doubtful.

"We have to discover where that rachni came from. If there are more, there may be clues as to their point of origin that the Council can use in their investigation into the reapers. How shall we proceed?" Even as he asked that question, more screeches could be heard. Thankfully they were some distance away, by the sounds of it.

[Yarik Streydus]

"Rachni."

It was a name Zepheras'd heard before, like anyone else with a basic knowledge of galactic history. The turians weren't in contact with the Citadel at the time it had happened, but the fact that it'd taken the krogan to beat the rachni- and then the genophage to beat the krogan- gave them an intimidating reputation. Frankly, Zeph'd expected a rachni to take more than a little tap on the head, but then Nimtai wasn't no peashooter.

He gave her pump-action a reassuring slide, readying her to put down the twitching bug in front of her barrel in the case that it wasn't quite dead already.

"They fought against the Council roughly two thousand years ago when a mass relay to their region of space was opened. It was the reason the Council contacted the krogans; the perfect soldiers to fight these tough little bastards. They were considered extinct. Well, until recently," Toth explained, and the turian was happy for the refreshification of his memory on the subject- in his education, the rachni wars had been glossed over a bit in favor of the krogan rebellions.

"Commander Shepard uncovered rachni experimentations on Noveria, during his search for Saren. Most recently they appeared at Omega along with yahg, fighting for the reaper. The Council has people working on discovering where these two races came from. This could be a major lead."

Zeph chewed on his lower jaw as the gears in his head ground against one another. "Spirits. For the sakes of our missin' crew, I hope there ain't any reapers involved in this." Unfortunately, they couldn't rule it out at this point. They couldn't rule out a lot of other things yet either, though, so there wasn't a point in fretting just yet.

"We have to discover where that rachni came from. If there are more, there may be clues as to their point of origin that the Council can use in their investigation into the reapers. How shall we proceed?" the spectre asked. That was a good question; all the excitement had distracted him, but Zeph didn't see any reason to alter their stride just yet.

"I'll check the cameras and escape pods," he said, moving back to the commander's console, which had gone to sleep in the time it'd taken to put the rachni down. Firing it up again, he opened a pair of files and sent them to Toth's omni-tool. "Take a look through the manifest, see if the ship picked up any rachni-sized cargo recently."

When the transfer was done, Zeph switched back to the security menu. After a few seconds of fiddling with the obstinate thing, he pulled up the security camera screen, and began scrolling through with his talon, carefully analyzing each feed for any signs of activity.