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Feb. 7th, 2008 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
paragonsoldierShe's walking through some dingy building of off-white walls and tile floors, endless corridors lined with little rooms. There are florescent lights in the ceiling: half the tubes are flickering or have gone out all together. There's water on the floor, water almost up to her knees. It's not still or dirty, like a flood born out of broken plumbing. Instead it flows out of the rooms and down the hall, clear as crystal and warm as a tropical lagoon. She's walking against the current, and though it flows fast, it's not strong enough to make walking a struggle.
All the doors to the rooms are open, so she could go into them if she wanted to. The rooms are completely dark or dimly illuminated at best. They're full of shelves and cots and bits of what she thinks of as antique medical equipment, things she recognizes (if at all) only from old recordings and museums. There are no people in any of the rooms. She's not interested in entering any of them, or examining them beyond a cursory glance.
There are monitors, though, and other unidentifiable devices with lights on them, beeping and blinking. She gets the unsettling feeling that the machines are watching her, especially the ones in the dark rooms where the glow of screens and blinking constellations of red and green status indicators are the only light there is.
On her left she notices a closed door, the first one she's encountered. A small window at eye level glows with faint light. She goes to the door and pulls it open, for once curious to know what's inside.
There's a window in this room - none of the others had windows, she realizes - set high in the wall, letting down a ray of sunlight. There's no medical stuff or machines in here that she can see: although the shadows beyond the pillar of natural light are too deep to see anything, she's sure that the room is empty. Except for the person standing in the middle.
The woman's back is turned to Shepard. She wears an Alliance uniform. Her skin is tanned to a golden brown, her dark hair twisted into a tight bun. Shepard knows who the woman is, wants to call to her, go to her, but she's somehow rooted silent to the spot, caught like an anticipatory breath catches in the throat.
The woman looks over her shoulder at Shepard, blinks her large brown eyes, and then turns slowly, a beatific smile on her face. It's the smile you make at a chance meeting with an old friend you haven't seen in years. Shepard feels herself smiling back, and realizes that she's no longer frozen. "Ash," she says, taking a step forward, reaching out towards her fellow soldier. Ashley reflects the movement, her smile growing.
Then there's a muzzle flash and the crack of a pistol shot from somewhere in the shadows. The right side of Ashley's face dissolves in a mess of bone and blood and tissue: the other half looks surprised for a seemingly eternal moment before Ashley's body crumples, falling facedown in the flowing water. A cloud of red mars the crystal flow, expanding and moving from Ashley to Shepard, flowing around her boots.
Feeling something spin in her head and something else tighten in her chest, Shepard takes four quick steps forward, already kneeling down, wanting to help her friend although she knows it's too late for any kind of help. Before she can touch Ashley's body, it sinks into the floor beneath the water, leaving no trace except for the blood, which is already fading.
Movement in the corner of Shepard's eye, the sound of footsteps splashing through the water, as someone else steps into the light. The figure is tall and gray, skin and armor both: his face is a cross between a predator's skull and a voodoo mask. Saren.
Shepard straightens up, her hand going for the pistol at her hip - except it isn't there. She retreats with one, two unsteady steps. Saren throws his own weapon into the water and in a couple of swift strides he's right in front of her. Shepard can't seem to move quickly enough: one of Saren's three fingered hands is clamped around her throat before she can stop him, lifting her into the air. She reaches up to his hand with her own, tries to pry his fingers loose, to no effect. She gasps and struggles to draw breath. Her lungs begin to burn, and her vision starts going dark around the edges.
Saren snarls, hateful and triumphant, as his grip on her neck tightens. Then somewhere an alarm goes off: it sounds like the panic of monitoring equipment when the patient to which it's attached flatlines or seizes. For just a moment, Saren is distracted by the noise and turns his head away. He turns back just in time for Shepard's fist to hit him in the face.
That worked on Virmire - where all this water came from, where Ashley died - but Shepard was wearing armor then. With her bare hands, all she manages to do is split her knuckles on the turian's bony skull, and maybe break a couple of small bones into the bargain. Her move also angers Saren, who roars, shakes her like a rag doll, turns and takes a few running steps to slam the back of her head into the nearest wall. Pain and white stars flash across Shepard's darkening vision.
But now, held up against the wall, she has some small amount of leverage. She takes hold of Saren's wrist and lifts her legs, tucking up her knees. Shepard puts everything she's got into a kick at Saren's midsection. His light armor does little to protect him: the turian drops her, doubling over and clutching his stomach as he stumbles and retches.
Shepard collapses in a heap and gets up onto hands and knees, taking in great lungfuls of air as she does. Her vision wavers and her head screams with pain. It feels like her mind isn't properly hooked up to the rest of her, or the world outside. Some part of her knows that trying to stand up would be useless, so she crawls, although perhaps her mad, splashing scramble on all fours isn't worthy of the term. Shepard somehow makes it out to the hallway, hearing Saren roar behind her.
Somehow she gets to her feet after all: she starts to run, heading for the closed double doors at the end of the hall. She stumbles, hears Saren splashing behind her, and gains her feet again, running, pushing and tumbling through the double doors and out into blinding light...
[Tinytag: Thy Kingdom Come]
All the doors to the rooms are open, so she could go into them if she wanted to. The rooms are completely dark or dimly illuminated at best. They're full of shelves and cots and bits of what she thinks of as antique medical equipment, things she recognizes (if at all) only from old recordings and museums. There are no people in any of the rooms. She's not interested in entering any of them, or examining them beyond a cursory glance.
There are monitors, though, and other unidentifiable devices with lights on them, beeping and blinking. She gets the unsettling feeling that the machines are watching her, especially the ones in the dark rooms where the glow of screens and blinking constellations of red and green status indicators are the only light there is.
On her left she notices a closed door, the first one she's encountered. A small window at eye level glows with faint light. She goes to the door and pulls it open, for once curious to know what's inside.
There's a window in this room - none of the others had windows, she realizes - set high in the wall, letting down a ray of sunlight. There's no medical stuff or machines in here that she can see: although the shadows beyond the pillar of natural light are too deep to see anything, she's sure that the room is empty. Except for the person standing in the middle.
The woman's back is turned to Shepard. She wears an Alliance uniform. Her skin is tanned to a golden brown, her dark hair twisted into a tight bun. Shepard knows who the woman is, wants to call to her, go to her, but she's somehow rooted silent to the spot, caught like an anticipatory breath catches in the throat.
The woman looks over her shoulder at Shepard, blinks her large brown eyes, and then turns slowly, a beatific smile on her face. It's the smile you make at a chance meeting with an old friend you haven't seen in years. Shepard feels herself smiling back, and realizes that she's no longer frozen. "Ash," she says, taking a step forward, reaching out towards her fellow soldier. Ashley reflects the movement, her smile growing.
Then there's a muzzle flash and the crack of a pistol shot from somewhere in the shadows. The right side of Ashley's face dissolves in a mess of bone and blood and tissue: the other half looks surprised for a seemingly eternal moment before Ashley's body crumples, falling facedown in the flowing water. A cloud of red mars the crystal flow, expanding and moving from Ashley to Shepard, flowing around her boots.
Feeling something spin in her head and something else tighten in her chest, Shepard takes four quick steps forward, already kneeling down, wanting to help her friend although she knows it's too late for any kind of help. Before she can touch Ashley's body, it sinks into the floor beneath the water, leaving no trace except for the blood, which is already fading.
Movement in the corner of Shepard's eye, the sound of footsteps splashing through the water, as someone else steps into the light. The figure is tall and gray, skin and armor both: his face is a cross between a predator's skull and a voodoo mask. Saren.
Shepard straightens up, her hand going for the pistol at her hip - except it isn't there. She retreats with one, two unsteady steps. Saren throws his own weapon into the water and in a couple of swift strides he's right in front of her. Shepard can't seem to move quickly enough: one of Saren's three fingered hands is clamped around her throat before she can stop him, lifting her into the air. She reaches up to his hand with her own, tries to pry his fingers loose, to no effect. She gasps and struggles to draw breath. Her lungs begin to burn, and her vision starts going dark around the edges.
Saren snarls, hateful and triumphant, as his grip on her neck tightens. Then somewhere an alarm goes off: it sounds like the panic of monitoring equipment when the patient to which it's attached flatlines or seizes. For just a moment, Saren is distracted by the noise and turns his head away. He turns back just in time for Shepard's fist to hit him in the face.
That worked on Virmire - where all this water came from, where Ashley died - but Shepard was wearing armor then. With her bare hands, all she manages to do is split her knuckles on the turian's bony skull, and maybe break a couple of small bones into the bargain. Her move also angers Saren, who roars, shakes her like a rag doll, turns and takes a few running steps to slam the back of her head into the nearest wall. Pain and white stars flash across Shepard's darkening vision.
But now, held up against the wall, she has some small amount of leverage. She takes hold of Saren's wrist and lifts her legs, tucking up her knees. Shepard puts everything she's got into a kick at Saren's midsection. His light armor does little to protect him: the turian drops her, doubling over and clutching his stomach as he stumbles and retches.
Shepard collapses in a heap and gets up onto hands and knees, taking in great lungfuls of air as she does. Her vision wavers and her head screams with pain. It feels like her mind isn't properly hooked up to the rest of her, or the world outside. Some part of her knows that trying to stand up would be useless, so she crawls, although perhaps her mad, splashing scramble on all fours isn't worthy of the term. Shepard somehow makes it out to the hallway, hearing Saren roar behind her.
Somehow she gets to her feet after all: she starts to run, heading for the closed double doors at the end of the hall. She stumbles, hears Saren splashing behind her, and gains her feet again, running, pushing and tumbling through the double doors and out into blinding light...
[Tinytag: Thy Kingdom Come]
