With a final puff of paint, Rex meticulously inspected the boot of his heavy suit armor. Finding no fault, he placed the armor fragment on a special table and turned on the dryer. The paint, as it dried, began to resemble darkened wood more and more. The Krogan worked the airbrush so skillfully that the structure of the wood fibers began to show.
"It'll pass for a prosthesis," he boomed contentedly, puffing on his cigar, radiating complete satisfaction with himself.
He was in a good mood. And why shouldn't he be, when during the koky festival, everyone could get drinks, which they could drown themselves in without the annoying buzzer in their heads? To drink and not lose social points on fines for violating healthy lifestyle rules, isn't that a dream?
Even though the ancient Krogan was exaggerating, the "Collective's" algorithms treated lovers of strong alcohol humanely, but sometimes he just wanted to let loose and not hold back. Therefore, he welcomed the Samhain celebration positively. A Krogan refusing to have fun and drink? Never!
Whistling a cheerful and lewd song, Rex glanced at the cabin's synthesizer, which was finishing a blue tunic to his size. Without overthinking it, he decided to dress up as John Silver. He had, of course, considered choosing Jim's image, but he didn't like doing exercises in the morning that much.
He was distracted from observing the printing process by a knock on the door.
"Again," the Krogan grumbled, shifting his cigar to another corner of his mouth, baring his teeth.
Trudging to the cabin door, his expression hardening, he pressed the sensor, opening to the visitors.
"Trick or treat!" chirped three ladies from the crew, who had managed to prepare for the holiday faster than Rex. Three fox-like vulfhednars, dressed as witches, made cute faces and curtsied, their long skirts rustling on the steel corrugated floor, extending a pumpkin-shaped container for offerings, holding it in three pairs of hands.
"I'm not giving," the Krogan stated indifferently, about to close the door, but a foot shod in a small shoe of one of the little foxes already stood in the doorway.
The seasoned mercenary sized up the impudent one, considering whether to act stereotypically for his race, but concluded that such behavior wouldn't suit a guest on the ship. Distracted by the visitors, he didn't notice how a shadow quickly and silently crawled along the ceiling, clinging with its claws.
"Then treat!" the little foxes chirped in unison, looking pleadingly at the strongman, batting their eyes. Sarcastically clicking his tongue, surprised that the ladies' false eyelashes didn't fall off, which, in his opinion, could be used for batting and flying, he cursed under his breath, reaching for the sweets. The rustling of wrappers hid the sounds of the shadow's manipulations, which began its small, but very dark deed.
"Thank you!!!" the three little foxes almost sang again. Overcome with emotion, one of them climbed on the others and loudly kissed the bewildered Krogan on the cheek, which the shadow took advantage of, rolling out of the mercenary's cabin, tumbling behind the doorjamb.
Closing the door, Rex thoughtfully rubbed his injured cheek, which still smelled of grapes, and chuckled. With his mood slightly improved, he took out the tunic and began to dress.
Pulling the imitation prosthesis onto his left leg, the Krogan reached for his boot... And his fingers felt something sticky and cold. Carefully pulling off the boot, he cautiously shook out of it, judging by the smell, a porridge colored with jam, which gave it the color of a well-known substance.
"I'll kill you," the mercenary stated with admiring calmness, realizing that there was only one creature on board that could do such a thing and had the desire. "Well, Risa, I can joke too."
In response, through the "Collective," a malicious but kind schadenfreude flared up. One intelligent cat had accepted the challenge.
In the darkness of the ventilation, quiet, ragged breathing could be heard. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya tried to catch her breath. Even through the polarization of her helmet's visor, one could see how wide her eyes had become from fear. Now the idea of hiding on a Soviet ship from pursuers didn't seem like a good one...
The young Quarian had been incredibly unlucky. Not only did she fail her exam to become a Companion, due to her soft nature, as they told her, but her Pilgrimage also went awry!
Determined to prove to everyone, and especially to herself, that she was capable of something, she brushed aside the safe pilgrimage program, despite her father's pleas, and set off in the old-fashioned way. The diaries of her legendary great-grandmother Lyra had greatly affected her impressionable mind, giving her the idea to repeat all her exploits.
That's why, at the first opportunity, she broke away from the group, embarking on an independent journey. And everything was fine until she "borrowed" information from those Batarian bandits. How was she to know that they weren't bandits, but agents of the Grey Mediator?
Tali had to flee from the Citadel, fortunately there was a recruitment for an archaeological expedition of specialists... which had to evacuate from a Soviet planet due to a Geth attack! Realizing that the communists' cruiser was flying back to the Citadel, the girl did not disembark with the expedition members, but instead opened the ventilation and hid there.
Here she lived, stealing food little by little from the Turian, because she hadn't undergone stomach modification and could only eat food specific to her species, without taking pills, which she had run out of. It was hunger that pushed her to sneak into the infirmary, where she saw SUCH A THING!
The girl shivered again. Tali had read in her great-grandmother's diary, and had heard about the legendary Soviet washings herself, but it was one thing to hear, and another to see... The Quarian shivered again, remembering how the octopod medic wielded his tentacles and equipment over some asari. Now she would only go to the infirmary at gunpoint...
The ship's AI, observing the "stowaway," rubbed its hands together mentally. Although she initially felt sorry for the girl, which is why she didn't turn her in or catch her herself, today the cunning artificial intelligence had plans for her.
Rubbing her metaphysical hands, she turned on the ventilation maintenance, plotting the robots' route to drive the illegal into the desired area of the ship, at the desired time...
"Joker," Shepard addressed the pilot of the "Normandy," already anticipating regret. "Why aren't you in costume?"
The pilot, in his usual attire with an unauthorized tank helmet on his head, tore himself away from his drink and shouted joyfully:
"Hey, Cap!!!" he drawled, saluting with his glass. "And I am in costume! The scariest one!"
With these words, he pulled off his headgear...
"Damn it..." was all the Lieutenant Colonel could utter, seeing a helmet drawn in green on his poorly shaved head.
The pilot bowed mischievously so that everyone would notice and be impressed, pulling the helmet back on, so that the shocked audience could recover. Although everyone was used to his slightly eccentric behavior, the helmet, painted with green, looked very impressive.
"Our commander did that to us in training," Joker explained, pleased with himself. "I was first assigned to the tank corps... But it's okay, I flew a tank too! And how! Once, like a pancake..."
"Enough," Shepard barked at him. "I don't want to know! My sanity is more important..."
"Understood, understood, Your Vampiric Majesty!" the pilot began to grimace again, but quickly deflated when the Colonel demonstrated plastic fangs, growling like a felinid who had been deprived of a treat.
Joker, pantomiming as if zipping his mouth shut, with a very authentic sound, returned to drinking, loudly and demonstratively sucking it through a straw. However, as soon as he looked behind the Lieutenant Colonel, the straw fell out of his lips, and his jaw literally dropped. Without difficulty swallowing the remaining drink, the pilot whistled, giving a thumbs-up.
Intrigued, Shepard turned... and almost repeated Joker's actions. Miranda slowly entered the assembly hall. Her black dress sparkled like space in the spotlight, making her skin even whiter. The makeup, in the form of rough stitches, skillfully masked all her scars, completing the image of a living dead girl.
The girl walked in absolute silence across the hall, gracefully stepping in high heels. Reaching Shepard, she gently closed his mouth, lightly tapping his lower jaw with her gloved fingers, and continued her promenade to the drinks table.
The Lieutenant Colonel shook his head, dispelling the enchantment. No one, not even him, had ever seen Miranda like this! Knowing her past, he was much more surprised by her choice of outfit than the other crew members.
Still holding his outstretched hand with his finger sticking out, Joker retreated backward, skillfully doing the moonwalk, winking at his comrade one last time, envying him with pure white envy.
The officer, however, was not a fool and perfectly understood that the quiet siege was about to turn into a decisive assault, and something needed to be done about it... but his impulse was temporarily interrupted by the beginning of the entertainment program.
The lights dimmed, illuminating Risa, dressed as a loaf of bread. The cat's displeasure, unable to make a proper cucumber costume due to the wrong bandages, vanished without a trace. She smiled radiantly like a cat, closing her eyes, so one couldn't tell that the felinid had been lamenting a few minutes ago about not being able to play a pickled cucumber. Why pickled and what did bandages have to do with it remained a mystery to all non-felinid crew members.
"Hey, comrades! Let our dark forces ball begin!!!" she began in a well-trained voice. "What should I play for you to start?"
Risa pretended to think.
"Maybe Sector Gaza? Huh, kids?" she asked slyly.
"And you can also play something for very young children, the song of the baby mammoth from the cartoon, by Till Lindemann!" a voice, no less sly, came from the hall. "My one-year-old nephew only listens to his song. It makes me nostalgic... 'Mom, Mom!'"
Petrovich's remark elicited an approving hum and a wave of whispers. "It would be great if she played Gorshok too..."
"Why not!" the cat-bread exclaimed, demonstrating excellent hearing. "It's perfect for little ones! Nothing teaches potty training better than Gorshok. I'll play you... 'Cheerful Kindergarten'!" What?
Risa pretended not to hear well.
"Want something for adults? Then why don't you sing! Shus-mi, won't you sing 'The Moth's Lullaby' for us with your wonderful voice?"
To the approving hum of the crowd, the embarrassed asari crawled onto the stage, adjusting her maid costume as she went, which made her impressive bust even more monumental.
Without wasting time, Risa dived behind the DJ booth, turning on the necessary accompaniment:
Moth sleep in the field
Already curled at the river
Only a cat sleeps and everything looks out the window
Who is his protection from the storm?
The many-armed snake's voice was melodious and captivating. The hall erupted in ovations. The song's lyrics in a half-forgotten English seemed to embrace the soul.
The asari, waving her arms, gave herself over completely to the melody.
Wolves all asleep amidst the trees
Bats all a-swaying in the breeze
But one soul lies anxious, wide awake
fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths.
Birds all silent for the night
Cows tumbling as daylight dies
But one soul lies anxious, wide awake
For the Witcher, brave and bold
Paid in coin of gold
He'll chop ... and slice you
cut ... and dice you
Eat you up whole
Eat you whole
Wolves sleep among the roots
The wind shakes the bats
Looking for the eyes of a sleeping soul
Ghosts and ghouls that are scary.
The night is quiet, no owls are heard
The cows are closed in a stable on a deadbolt,
But they are looking for the eyes of an awake soul ...
Waiting for someone more dangerous than wolves -
Witcher, what a hundred coppers,
Cut, chop into a hundred pieces
You and eat the whole ...
Eat you whole ...
Wolves doze to dawn
Bat are sleeping in the forest.
Only one soul does not sleep
Protects us from ghosts.
No birds can be heard in silence
Cattle is silent in a stable in a dream.
Only one soul does not sleep -
The brave, valiant witcher.
Give him a golden dime
He knows how to kill,
Beat, stab and tear
He will come for you
He'll eat you alive.
(The Witcher 3 Wild Hunt - A night to remember)
The hall exploded with applause...
The Quarian crawled through the ventilation with a clatter. Breaking open another damper, she slipped down, sliding to the deck below, hearing a persistent squeak behind her. Service robots followed her closely, giving her no time to rest.
Covered in dust, the girl was marked by the system as an active contaminant and subject to disinfection. The pilgrim, who had almost burned through her light suit a few days ago by accidentally getting into a small drop of antiseptic generously sprayed by the machines, rightly feared for her life. Therefore, overcoming herself, she literally learned to hack Soviet systems on the fly, thankfully they weren't heavily protected here...
Suzy experienced undisguised pleasure, stimulating the stowaway's learning process, pushing her with a stick for the past couple of hours. The AI gave her tasks of increasing difficulty, rejoicing in her good learning ability, gradually driving her towards the desired action.
Tali, sweating profusely, continued to crawl and hack, hack and crawl, not hearing the increasing sounds of music over the rustling...
The colored lights flickered, picking out the dancers with ragged beams.
Yo, people
Hey, music
Hey, dj
Let's have fun
Come on, come on, come on, come on!
Risa enthusiastically rocked the hall, masterfully handling the mixer. The cat's enthusiastic nature was revealed in all its glory.
Three fox-witches danced wildly on stage, impressing even those connected to the "Collective" with their synchronicity, igniting their comrades with their energetic dance.
Acid dj, hey
Acid music, hey
Acid people, hey
Let's have fun
Acid dj, hey
Acid music, hey
Acid people, hey
Let's have fun
Acid dj, hey
Acid music, hey
Acid people, hey
Let's have fun
Acid dj, hey
Acid music, hey
Acid people, hey
Let's have fun
(Oksana Pochepa. Album Acid DJ)
Risa's clear voice intertwined with the music, and the mental images amplified the picture, making the dance floor blaze with all shades of joy, creating a kaleidoscope of color, sound, and sensation...
Joker, who didn't like to dance, slowly sipped another cocktail when his ears heard a crunching sound from the ceiling. His reaction was enough to step back, dodging a piece of ventilation that fell, raising a cloud of dust, but colliding with a robot steward who hit him on the head with a tray. The pilot, having parted with his helmet in such an extravagant way and having had quite a bit to drink, was quite disoriented, so he didn't have time to react.
"E-E-E-E!!!" Tali screamed in fright, having just managed to wipe her helmet visor and seeing a bald monster illuminated by ragged white light. Trapped by the crowd, the feisty girl did the only thing that came to mind.
With a strength unexpected even to herself, she jumped up and rammed her knee between its legs, forcing it to instantly curl into a "Z" shape. Without waiting for the monster to recover, she jumped over it, seeing other crew members in makeup, which turned her fear into determination not to be taken alive by these monsters.
"O-o-o-o," Joker groaned, kneeling and holding his injured body part, which was like balm to the AI's processor, who was tired of the cheeky pilot's jokes. "Yesss!" Suzy rejoiced, bypassing the restriction on affecting the crew in this way. No, if the Quarian had grabbed a forgotten pistol, she would have subdued her first, but this way her little revenge was a complete success. Even if she got in trouble with Shepard for it.
The crew, in deathly silence, watched the piece of dust flying, not caring about the direction, followed by service robots tumbling out of the damaged ventilation.
The first to recover were the tipsy Petrovich and Rex... bursting into loud laughter, pointing at the pilot. The scene amused the two hardened cynics, making the already lively evening even more exciting.
"Catch the intruder," Shepard ordered when the girl had already flown out of the hall. The heated team simultaneously sprang into action...
A new day began. Shepard, rubbing his neck, walked to his cabin. The stowaway Quarian was only caught in the engine room, cornered, and even then she had to be persuaded for a long time to open the door, and then given sedatives. At first, he wanted to put her off at the first port, but then he sympathized with her problem and waved it off.
She hadn't caused any harm, apologized to Joker, blushing, and an engineer on the ship is always useful, especially since she proved her qualifications by deed, so to speak. So after a course of vaccinations, she could start her duties as a junior engineer and finally take off her suit and eat normal food...
Placing his hand on the sensor, he entered his cabin, which had become his home over the years, feeling that someone was inside, but instantly calming down when his ears heard a familiar pulse.
"Miranda?" he said, both greeting and asking what she was doing there, the Lieutenant Colonel.
Instead of an answer, the girl moved her hand, using telekinesis, affecting the door closing sensor. Sizing up Shepard, to whom she had cut off all escape routes, she looked at him very eloquently, expressing everything with one glance.
"I'm tired of feeling like a fool," she said with a sigh, not waiting for decisive action from the Lieutenant Colonel. "Artyom, who am I to you?"
Understanding where things were heading from the beginning of the evening, the man somehow couldn't immediately articulate the turmoil in his head, hesitating, which the girl interpreted in her own way.
"I really understand. Every time I look in the mirror, I understand..." she began. "I especially started to understand a couple of months ago..."
Miranda showed a strand of her night-black hair, the roots of which were the color of wheat, which made Artyom's heart ache.
"I really understand..." the girl began again, swinging her leg, but her hands, clutching the armrest of the chair, betrayed her nervousness completely. "Even if life in its shadow isn't the same as seeing its ghost every day... Come on, you'll send me away, and I'll go?"
Miranda stood up and was about to slip past the silent Shepard, but a strong hand stopped her. Artyom, who had finally engaged, albeit with a struggle, silently embraced the girl, feeling her heart pounding wildly.
"And what if I don't want to?" he asked, looking into such large and attractive eyes, feeling the cool silk of the girl's bare back with his palms, which her night-colored dress allowed. "But everything is complicated..."
"I'm not asking you to forget," she said softly, gazing into his eyes, mesmerized. "I know she'll be there... just do something, finally."
The girl was visibly trembling. Her past was catching up with her. A childhood spent in a laboratory, endless biopsies, made a normal human touch more difficult for her than going into an attack against a superior enemy.
Artyom knew this, respected it, and didn't act, even seeing that they were no longer just comrades and friends. His sense of tact and the pain of memory played out exactly like this. Therefore, he did what should have been done years ago...
"Your lips taste like candy..." Shep said out of the blue, still not quite believing it, breaking the kiss.
"If you start singing that song now, know this... I'll beat you up!" Miranda, red as a boiled lobster, blurted out, hiding her extreme embarrassment behind sarcasm, desperately pressing her lips against his already, her neural network flaring with a storm of emotions before she could hastily shut herself off from everyone but Artyom.
As if struck by an electric shock, with the last remnants of self-control, the lieutenant colonel deactivated all communication channels with a mental command, closing himself off, feeling the last illusory shackles fall away. The world narrowed for him to such an alluring vortex of eyes.
Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck, marveling at her own boldness, before being flooded by a reciprocal whirlpool of feelings. The platinum of her coldness couldn't withstand the emotions that burst free. Two minds flared like a supernova.
Light and weightless pink love, viscous like molasses scarlet passion, bright and ringing happiness... A cascade of feelings enveloped the tormented minds, sweeping away the remnants of self-control, washing out the dark, stagnant pain from the wounds, leaving only a sweet sadness, sounding as a quiet note in this ensemble.
The heat of their breath, the coolness of their skin, the intoxicating taste of kisses that left the people who had cast aside their hang-ups breathless. Two beings, crafted from ordinary mortal super-soldiers of the future, who had paid with their humanity for their strength, were now simply humans, rushing towards the fire, their breath catching in this lustful race.
Miranda's ice and Artyom's flame merged into one, to continue in this crazy life together, bravely looking from the front rows at the gaping abyss into which the galaxy was ready to step. But that would be later...
Now, two wounded people were healing each other, no longer lying to themselves. Tenderness and affection became their present, and the sound of their hearts with hot breath – the music of the universe.