Chapter Text
Jaal Ama Darav sank wearily into the comfort of his cot. Today had been exhausting. His morning had started off pleasantly, but derailed spectacularly as soon as he set foot in Resistance headquarters. One of the junior intelligence specialists – the youngest he had seen so far – had approached him nervously, and practically begged him to read through her report before she took it to Evfra. Understanding her fear, he had stopped to read the report, and immediately regretted his decision. It contained an in-depth analysis of the latest goings-on in Kadara, which of late seemed to be evolving a particularly toxic brew of organised crime, associated politics, rampant narcotic abuse and advanced skulduggery. Jaal did not think it was possible to find a worse hive of scum and villainy than Kadara port.
The only person who hated Kadara more than Jaal was Evfra, and the contents of this particular treatise were guaranteed to set Evfra off in the worst way possible. The sensible thing to do would have been to advise the girl to deliver the report and not take the inevitable rant personally – but Sahuna had raised her sons to be gentlemen, and if it came to her knowledge that he had allowed a junior to be verbally trampled by a man possessing the temperament of a feral adhi, Jaal would never hear the end of it. So he had offered to deliver the report to Evfra himself.
As expected, the news from Kadara acted as tinder to the crackling fire that was Evfra’s customary disposition, and the Resistance leader’s infamous temperament exploded. “Kadara be damned, I won’t lose Voeld!” Evfra then launched into a rant which ranged across various issues of concern to the Resistance: the steady kett advance across Voeld, the mysterious disappearance of a team of extremely promising young scientists on Havarl, recruitment issues, and – above it all – the weeks-old abduction of the Moshae. Consequently, Jaal had been forced to table what he really wanted to discuss with Evfra – the problem of ritual bullying of fresh Resistance recruits by their immediate seniors as some sort of induction – in favour of simply acting as a sentient sounding board. And then, just as Evfra had regained his composure, they had been all but deafened by the public warning system blaring into life, the roar of hastily-scrambled defense aircraft taking off and a breathless scout barging into Evfra’s office talking too fast about something which involved invaders. Evfra looked nearly apoplectic by that point, and Jaal found himself wondering about two things: the state of Evfra’s emotional health and if he would have the opportunity to write a farewell missive to his family before he was ordered to engage whatever had now, apparently, invaded Aya.
Jaal was about to ask the scout to repeat himself when something outside the large window in Evfra’s office caught his eye: a sleek, white ship enveloped in a halo of superheated particles was rapidly descending, on approach to the landing pads near the city gates. It was so large that the defense aircraft which were escorting it looked pitifully small and unfit for purpose, and it was beautiful. Very definitely not a kett ship, but that in itself was no comfort at all. Evfra had responded in typical fashion: a string of colourful invective followed by a terse order to investigate.
Jaal had complied immediately, sprinting to the city gates as quickly as he could. He arrived to find Paaran Shie addressing an alien he recognised to be from ‘Shena’s’ species in an almost motherly tone of voice. Privately thanking the gods that Evfra was not around to be further annoyed by Paaran’s demeanour, he had brusquely demanded answers from the alien… whom, it turned out, either had a death wish or else routinely deployed humour as a means of de-escalation. His provisional assessment on the alien complete, Jaal had instructed Paaran to escort the alien to Resistance headquarters, where Evfra would doubtless appreciate the opportunity to subject someone new (and unarmed) to a vicious verbal assault.
His job done, he had seen no reason to hurry back to headquarters, choosing instead to walk and use the time to pick his words. Evfra was already in a foul mood, and Jaal knew not to unnecessarily stir the kaerkyn’s nest. So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he entirely missed the gaggle of Resistance recruits waiting just inside headquarters, and it was not until he heard one of the recruits, Moraan, calling out to him that Jaal remembered his original purpose in seeing Evfra earlier. He had just enough time to reassure Moraan that the bullying allegations would be appropriately looked into, and to dispense some practical advice to a brother soldier when the electricity of the room changed entirely. The alien was now in Resistance headquarters. Sighing, Jaal retrieved his trusty Lanat from Moraan, who would have been more than happy to walk away with it, and escorted the alien to Evfra’s office.
Evfra had been surprisingly civil. No verbal eviscerations or drama, though Evfra had not attempted to conceal either his suspicion or disdain. The alien – this Pathfinder – had had the wisdom, or the cunning, to be conciliatory throughout the interview; deflecting even the most inflammatory insinuations Evfra had thrown her way (and Jaal was certain it was a ‘her’: the Pathfinder’s physical form resembled the file image of the despot of Kadara, and intelligence reports consistently described said despot as female) in a manner that would have been disarming, were the angara not already fighting an extinction war against the kett.
The interview would have ended in an impasse had the Pathfinder not mentioned resetting something on a planet known to his people to be little more than a radioactive dustball, which immediately rendered said planet borderline habitable. Her description of the structure had been inelegant, but as a former student of the Moshae – from whom he had received the only formal education in his life – Jaal instantly recognised it, and a vague, desperate hope suddenly sprang up in his heart. He had ventured to barter, indirectly, with Evfra for the Pathfinder’s freedom.
It was testimony, Jaal mused, to the level of trust Evfra reposed in him that he had not been charged with insubordination when he persisted in doing so despite Evfra’s pointed hint to shut up. Evfra’s confidence in him notwithstanding, Jaal was well aware that it had taken the sterling character of his family name, as well as every last bit of goodwill standing to his credit in Evfra’s books for the latter to acquiesce to his suggestion to place him aboard the technological marvel that the Pathfinder called the ‘Tempest’ as the Resistance leader’s eyes and ears.
The rest of the day had passed in a mad rush. The Pathfinder had wasted no time at all: upon being told that she was free to leave Aya under the watchful eye of the Resistance, the Pathfinder had announced that she intended to commence earning the trust of the angara with immediate effect. That left Jaal with a precious few hours in which to acquire provisions, compose a message to his mothers informing them of what had transpired, requisition a full set of bedding, armour and weapon maintenance kits and other necessities from the quartermaster, and gather his belongings. Then, he’d had to attend at the Resistance medical centre, where the medics gave him every vaccine that had been developed since new, exotic bugs had started circulating on Kadara courtesy of the Jarevaon Imasaf aliens. His arms were both sore now on account of the various immunisations administered.
He had definitely not been expecting his introduction to the Pathfinder’s crew to be redolent of an invitation to witness a playground quarrel. Everyone seemed to have something to say, much of it only tangentially relevant or thinly-veiled sarcasm. It was clear to him that several members of the crew were either highly individualistic, set in their ways, or harboured significant emotional baggage that translated into quasi-personal grudges. Truth be told, the more he listened to the animated exchange taking place before him, the less likely it seemed that the Pathfinder would be able to keep half her promises to Evfra. It was all very frustrating, and he was grimly pondering the implications of this for his people when one of the crew suddenly asked if his translator was working. The male human, Liam, had leveraged the opportunity to invite him to speak for himself – and so he had.
Not long after leaving the Onaon system, the Pathfinder had dropped by the tech lab – now serving as his room – ostensibly to thank him for his blunt, matter-of-fact summary of the situation, and to reassure him that she had matters well in hand, all appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. They had chatted briefly, but he had abruptly ended the conversation upon realising that it was rendering him sociable. After all, he might still have to kill the Pathfinder and her crew, and who knew if they were attempting to lull him into a false sense of security?
That had been some hours ago. The Tempest was now mostly silent apart from the steady background hum of her engines as she travelled across the vast expanse of space. Were he still on Aya, he would have been fast asleep by now, but a few more things had to be taken care of before he could call it a day. Reaching overhead from his semi-recumbent position on the cot, Jaal retrieved his Resistance-issued datapad and started writing.
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To: de Tershaav, Evfra
From: Ama Darav, Jaal
Subject: A Report from Jaal (aboard the Tempest)
Evfra,
The Tempest is on its way to Havarl. My introduction to the crew that run this ship was… not exemplary, to say the least. It appears that the Jarevaon Imasaf aliens are united only by their confusion and tendency to talk over each other. The Pathfinder could certainly learn a thing or two from you about commanding the attention of her subordinates, if her attempt at debriefing the crew earlier is anything to go by. She is clearly inexperienced, perhaps younger than many of her crew. At least, that is my deduction for now.
The crew complement comprises nine individuals. Thanks to information provided by ‘Shena’, I am able to confidently identify them by species: five humans, two asari, one krogan, one turian, and one salarian. The humans and asari bear the closest superficial resemblance to us, and given the lack of any obvious natural defences I imagine they would be fairly easy to eliminate should the need arise. The turian’s appearance is confusing. It is covered with strange, shiny scales and possesses a pair of mandibles such as one usually sees on crawling things, but it stands upright on legs which closely resemble our own. I do not yet know what to make of it.
The krogan appears formidable: he is almost entirely covered with what appear to be armoured plates, and his mouth is full of teeth that would not look misplaced on a challyrion. He is also the bulkiest of the crew. I imagine that he would be more than capable of literally tearing anyone limb from limb. Please ask ‘Shena’s’ handler to acquire intelligence on krogan physiology if possible. I would like to know if the krogan possess any physical weaknesses that may be exploited.
The salarian is the ship’s pilot. He does not seem robust. Paaran could probably best him in a fistfight. Nonetheless, it is possible that salarians possess defences which are not immediately obvious. Perhaps they are venomous? Needless to say, I will be watchful and shall update you if I learn anything useful in this regard.
The Tempest itself is a genuine wonder of engineering. I am sending you a recording taken from my visor of the interior layout of the ship. The Jarevaon Imasaf aliens’ technology is clearly superior to our own in several respects (for instance the near-soundlessness of the engines powering this ship, its remarkable fuel efficiency and the fact that they have somehow managed to shield the drive core so perfectly that it can simply be left running in a dedicated room in the engineering deck without risk of radiation poisoning). I dream of the day our people have ships like this.
Before I forget, I had intended to discuss with you the epidemic of bullying that is afflicting a good number of our new recruits. You know I like to keep my ear on the ground. Apparently some Resistance officers of middling rank have taken it upon themselves to ‘toughen up’ the recruits by subjecting them to demeaning conduct. I cannot understand the logic (if indeed there is any!). Such practices cannot be tolerated in the Resistance, for obvious reasons. I have with me several written accounts submitted by recruits who have either personally experienced bullying or witnessed it, which I have anonymised (promising anonymity was the only way to get these statements, Evfra – people are scared of reprisals). These accounts are also being sent to you along with this communication.
I will endeavour to send you a weekly report at least, if not more often. Rest assured that I am being careful.
Stay strong and clear.
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To: Ama Darav, Sahuna
From: Ama Darav, Jaal
Subject: A Communication from your son Jaal
Dear Mother!
I hope you are well. By now you must have heard the full details about what transpired on Aya. I apologise if the sparse details in my last communication have caused you to worry. The alien ship is reasonably comfortable and thus far the Jarevaon Imasaf aliens on board have not attempted anything hostile. Before you ask, yes, I have brought along sufficient food to see me through a few weeks, and it goes without saying that I will not blindly eat or imbibe anything that these aliens offer to me.
The pictures I have sent with this communication are of the room that I inhabit aboard the ‘Tempest’, which is the name of the alien’s ship; and (because you are perpetually interested in this sort of thing) the ship’s kitchen and hygiene facilities. It is a very beautiful ship. I cannot imagine how much it must have cost to produce.
We are presently on our way to Havarl. Unfortunately I do not think that a visit home will be possible this time: the leader of this alien crew (the ‘Pathfinder’) is determined to earn her way into Evfra’s good books, and I have given my word to Evfra to keep a close watch on them and do whatever it takes to protect and further the interests of our people. You know what that means. I hope it will not come to that… but we have been disappointed before. Nonetheless, I fully intend to enjoy this adventure amongst the stars, so long as that remains a possibility.
I miss the family very much. It will be hard for me to set foot on Havarl and not see you at all, and in that sense alone, I do not look forward to being on Havarl. So near, and yet so far.
Your loving son, Jaal
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To: Ryder
From: Jaal
Subject: Communication from Jaal Ama Darav
Pathfinder Ryder,
A manifest of items that I have brought upon your ship, The Tempest:
1) Blankets and bedding in the event that your unfamiliar alien bedding is insufficient or uncomfortable.
2) A small number of personal projects, these are bits and pieces of angaran tech and weaponry.
3) Twenty-five jugs of nourishment paste. This will need to be replenished regularly.
4) Armor, including my two Rofjinn [unknown: alt cape; suspenders] and equipment to repair them.
5) Vials of salves, creams, and perfumes. I can provide your science officer with a list of ingredients if that is required.
I've also brought my own personal weapon, a kett rifle. I've been issued an "omni-tool," which I'm currently calibrating.
I hope that this list is compliant.