Salvation: Episode I - The Taking of the Carmenta Illustria

Disclaimer: This fan-fiction is part of an episodic series taking place after Salvation: A Half-Life/Mass Effect Universe Fan Fiction, which will lead directly to its sequel, Salvation II: Project Prometheus. These episodes and sequel take place OUTSIDE of the Mass Effect 3 continuity. Characters property of their respective companies, Half-Life created by Valve and Mass Effect created by Bioware.

Chapter 13: A Wrench in the Works

DING! Came the chime of two fine crystal glasses, as they were tapped together on the bridge.

“To fortune and glory...!” Davix toasted, as he raised his glass to Teshya, who was seated at the inert console beside him, before tilting his neck, and knocking back the drink in one, swift gulp.

He sat reclined in his seat, with his feet kicked and crossed on the desktop edge of the inactive console he sat it. Similarly, Teshya sat at the blank terminal directly to his left, swilling the sparkling drink around in her glass, as she sampled some fine, exotic fruit.

A food cart now rested near the center of the bridge, topped with silvery platters of fine, exquisite delicacies, vintage wines, and expensive champagne. Though so far, the only ones that seemed to be indulging in the extravagant smorgasbord were the two mercenaries fortified in dark red and white Blood-Pack armor.

The Carmenta Illustria's original bridge crew had been moved out, and taking their place was a troubled quarian, running a majority of the ship's systems from the largest console at the fore of the bridge, with a volus purporting to be a Captain, dictating direction, beside him.

Two salarian officers had taken a post on the bridge, guarding the main entryway. They stood on either side of it, like sentries, with their arms stoically placed behind their backs.

In a corner of the room, the burly, light-green skinned krogan, with a deep, lime-green, osteoderm brow plate, yet stood ruminating in silence, as his attention remained completely enthralled by the surveillance video on the screen in front of him. There were multiple feeds on the screen, but the most prominent, and the one that had spellbindingly engrossed him, was the feed of the hostage holding area, in the Promenade Deck. His reptilian eyes were narrowed by the light, yet as sharp as a predator on the prowl. He watched a young, fellow krogan sitting restlessly. A salarian and a geth seemingly making small talk. A young, naive, uniformed turian chatting away with a scarred older one. And a dark skinned gentleman conversing with a light skinned brunet beauty, wearing only a tan suit jacket, and a brown towel. Even with these dangerous figures firmly at their mercy, Kargas couldn't elude the feeling that something was amiss...

“Spirits, I didn't know they made food this good...!” Davix exclaimed with a revelrous delight, as he dangled a sliced strip of meat high above his tilted back head, and slowly lowered it into his gaping mouth. “Mmm...!” He muttered euphorically, as he chewed.

“Best food in the galaxy...!” The milky eyed Security Commander assured, as he walked up behind Davix, with a lit cigarette between his lips. “Dextro, or otherwise...” He assured, giving Davix a firm pat on the back, as he pulled his cigarette out, and exhaled a white stream of smoke into the air.

“Get used to it, my friend--” He said, with a smug, self-satisfied look - pinching the cigarette between his thumb and index fingers, as he watched the smoke disperse into nothingness above his head. “--'cause this is only the beginning...!”

“Well... I was hopin' I'd get to see a little action on this barge... But here's to Illustria Security...!” Davix toasted once more, raising his glass up high. “And to all the filthy rich saps who thought you'd be protecting them...!”

“I'll drink to that...” Teshya announced with a smirk, as she raised a champagne glass, with a small, blue fruit sitting at the bottom of the bubbly cocktail.

As the asari sipped triumphantly on her drink, the Commander casually strolled over to her, and leaned over the console she sat at, with the smoking cigarette compressed within his brash, crooked smile.

“So uh... Tesh...” He began in a sly, cocksure tone of voice, as his covetous eyes meticulously inspected the asari's figure, who in turn was already engaged in rolling her own eyes. “Whaddaya say when this is all over... We keep this ship as our own, personal love nest, and you can show me what that famous, asari promiscuity is all about...?”

“Ugh...” Teshya groaned in disgust, as she simply reclined back in her seat and turned her face away, trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of them. “...Just get away from me, human.”

Kim stood upright from his leaning position against the console, as he tried to hide the look of discouragement bleeding through his expression, with a small smirk, and a chuckle under his breath.

“Don't take it personal, Commander...” Davix chimed in, reclining far back in his seat, with his hands locked behind his head, under his fringe. “Tesh hates all humans. Not just you...”

“Eh, she's just playin' hard to get 'cause she knows it drives me crazy.” Kim coyly acknowledged, as he crushed out his cigarette on the console.

Just then, as Kim turned and took a few steps towards the cart topped with fine cuisine, the door to the bridge unexpectedly slid open, and there at the entryway, was a turian donned in the same uniform as every other corrupt security officer on the ship. Hesitantly, he walked in, past the two salarian sentries stationed near the door, who only greeted him by looking at him with furrowed brows, and perplexed expressions – obviously recognizing either him or his uniform as benign.

“Tylan...” Commander Kim addressed, with a bit of surprise both in his voice, and on his countenance, when he noticed the turian. “What are you doing up here? This ain't your detail.” He said, as he pulled the sterling silver lid off of one of the dishes, causing an eruption of steam to pour out, and float towards the ceiling, like a miniature, vaporous, mushroom cloud.  Kim lowered his head towards the dish, and inhaled deeply the rich, delectable aroma, before sighing in delight. “Ahhh...”

“Shouldn't you be down on the Promenade collecting by now...?” He continued, holding onto the silvery dish lid, which dripped with condensation, as he looked back at the clearly agitated turian.

“Uhm... Well, yes sir... But--” Tylan stuttered to begin, as the mandibles around his mouth twitched back and forth, perhaps as a sign of turian anxiety. “--there's... Well, there's a matter I felt needed your... attention...”

“Uh-huh... Which is...?”

“Perhaps... I could... talk to you in private...?” He beckoned, apprehensively sputtering his words out, almost one at a time, as he bowed his head in shame.

Clang! Came the loud, reverberant sound of silver against silver, as Kim slammed the dish lid back onto the tray, at a loss for patience, causing the turian to jump a bit, in a fright. “Out with it, officer!”

“Uhh...” He began, in a shaky voice, beneath the sound of a forming dry heave, as he searched for the right words, before rapidly commencing. “Well I... I waited to see if they would bring him in! But I haven't spotted him at all! I've been looking over every passenger they bring, and all the decks have been pretty much cleared out, but he still hasn't showed up, and-and-I figured th...”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa...!” Kim shouted, putting his hands up, and waving them at the turian blathering on, a mile a minute. “Slow the fuck down...! Who? What the hell are you talking about...?!”

“Sh...Shepard, sir... Commander Shepard...”

“SHEPARD?!” Came the bellowing exclamation from the towering krogan in the corner, as he suddenly raised his head at the drop of the name. The outburst quickly caught the attention of both Leahr'Haan, and Tarrik, who were seated at the front-most console on the bridge, and the two mercenaries seated nearby. Kargas spun himself around with a jerk, and swiftly marched in a huff, straight up to the nervous turian, with a look of rage brewing in his eyes.

“Did you say Commander Shepard?!” The seething krogan demanded, sputtering droplets of saliva onto the turian's face, as he spoke. “As in the Alliance N7 Marine, Commander Shepard?!”

The turian reeled his head back in intimidation, and sunk it down between his shoulders, as he replied. “Y... Yeah...?”

“RAAAAAHHHH!” The acknowledgment sent the mighty krogan into an uncontrolled rage! Suddenly, he cocked his arm back, turned, and with unforgiving force, slammed his tightly coiled, wrecking-ball of a fist into the adjacent, metallic wall – leaving a small, fist-shaped dent where it had struck.

“HE'S HERE!” Kargas bellowed furiously, through clenched teeth, practically foaming at the mouth. “I WANT HIM!”

“Hey! Hey! Whoa...!” Kim shouted out, pleadingly, as he stepped between Kargas, and the now cowering turian officer, in an attempt to quell and restrain him.

“I WANT SHEPARD!” The krogan continued to rant, in a vicious fury. “HE'S MINE!”

“Hold on!” Kim beseeched, raising his hands up towards Kargas in a halting manner, and trying to maintain control of the situation, to which he was mildly successful, as the krogan seemed to cool down a bit.“We don't even know he's on-board yet. We don't know what he's talking about, just calm down...! Take it easy!”

“What is the meaning of this...?!” A voice, accompanied by the loud hiss of a respirator, demanded, as Tarrik stepped up to the group convened near the rear of the bridge, still wearing the pristine, white Captain's Cap upon his brow.

“Nothing!” Kim shot back, with a blend of frustration and anger building up, as he slowly turned back around to face the turian messenger. “Look, everybody just calm down!”

“And you!” He asserted, pointing a rigid finger into Tylan's face. “Explain yourself. Why are you saying Commander Shepard is on-board this ship...?”

“B-Because he is, sir... I saw him...” The daunted turian elaborated, with a look of dread reflected in his eyes. “I-I was... the one that was on duty in the main dining hall, last night... He was... Captain Ryback's guest of honor...”

“...Jesus Christ...!” Kim muttered in a hushed, exasperated tone of voice, which was quickly muffled, as he tilted his head back, and placed both hands over his face.

“I knew it...!” Kargas snarled through his teeth, as he began to pace around in a small circle, while repeatedly pounding a fist into his open palm. “From the moment I boarded... I felt it in my blood...!”

“Shepard...!” Kim screeched to himself, in a gruff, throaty voice, through tightly clenched teeth, as he dragged his hands up towards his temples, and yanked down at his hair with his fingers. “Of all the god damn things that could've gone wrong... we get Commander 'save the Citadel-stop the Reapers-you gotta be fucking kidding me' Shepard...!”

While the Security Commander worried, nearly ripping out his own hair, and while the Blood-Pack leader brooded over sweet thoughts of mutilation and disembowelment, the arrogant, manipulative, conniving little volus was already ruminating on his own schemes.

“If Commander Shepard's on this ship, he'd be worth a fortune to me, alive...!” Tarrik thought to himself, as he tapped a stubby, curled finger against his suit's mouthpiece. “He's got no shortage of enemies, and any number of them would be willing to pay exorbitant sums to get their hands on him...! I just have to make sure these clods handle the situation appropriately...”

“Tylan...!” The Commander started again, sounding painfully frustrated. “If you knew all this, why the HELL didn't you bring it up sooner?!” The Commander demanded, growing increasingly aggravated, as he pulled his hands away from his face, and shook them demandingly at the turian.

“W...ell.” The turian hesitantly began again, as he lightly rubbed his forehead with the edge of his hand. “I was hoping he'd show up on the Promenade Deck with the other hostages... A-and  you told us not to bother you with anything until AFTER we took the ship...!” He informed, as he looked back up at Kim – his fearful eyes searching for empathy. “You said just stick to the plan, do our jobs, and act as if nothing was wrong...”

The fog-eyed Commander placed his hands akimbo, on his hips. He bowed his head, and shook it in disappointment, as he slowly exhaled, a long, drawn-out sigh. Suddenly, and without warning, he looked up, lunged forward, grabbed the turian guard by the collar, and swung him, with authority, towards the adjacent wall, pinning his back against it, with a loud thud.  

“You idiot!” He exclaimed indignantly, as he hoisted the turian up, against the wall, lifting him up to the very tips of his toes. “Didn't you think... For one moment... That this might be a tiny, little, FUCKING exception! You moron-prick-piece of shit!”

“S-sir, I was just following your orders!”

“ORDERS?!” Kim barked, in a rage. “You need orders to use common sense, you god damn turian twit?!”

“...C-Co-Commander, please!”

“Wait a minute, Kim...” Kargas suddenly chimed in, as he stopped his pacing, and opened his eyes wide – coming to a great realization. “Of course... Of course!” He exclaimed, as he unexpectedly turned, and rushed back over towards the surveillance console, in the far corner of the room.

“Of course, what?!” Kim demanded, as he was left holding onto the poor turian's collar, in dismal befuddlement.

Kim turned back to glare into the eyes of the turian before him, completely at his mercy. Tylan, seeing no other options, reciprocated a nervous grin, hoping that it would buy him some amnesty. Almost as if it had worked, the Commander released his tight hold on the turian's collar, with a hard shove against the wall. Leaving the daunted Tylan behind, the Commander turned, and marched over towards Kargas, who had repositioned himself in front of the screen.

“I knew it...” Kargas muttered to himself, as Kim approached him, with Tarrik, and both the mercenaries in tow, behind him. “That's why they're familiar me to me...”

“What are you going on about, Karg...?” The Commander inquired, as he stepped up beside the krogan, with his arms crossed.

“It's his team, don't you get it?!” Kargas snapped back, as his eyes narrowed, with the screen the focal point of his gaze. “Look... The geth.” He said, as he pointed towards the passively seated Legion. “Shepard has been known to travel with a geth... And the turian...!” He continued, shifting his finger's aim with each new target he addressed. “That has to be the one they called Archangel... The one responsible for the deaths of many of my Blood-Pack brood brothers on Omega...”

“The krogan whelp must be Okeer's progeny...” He uttered in disgust, as he turned his focus towards Grunt. “His own tank-bred abomination unto his own people... And... And the salarian... Yes...” As he explained further, a sudden twisted, monstrous gleam came over his eyes, and the corners of his large mouth began to curl upwards, to form an odious, evil, and somewhat lustful looking smile. “Yes...! That is the salarian! They're all here... And they're mine...!”

“What are you talking about...?!” Commander Kim demanded, greatly perplexed, as he watched the krogan savor the deranged fruits of his nightmarish daydreams. “And what's this beef you've got with Shepard?”

As Kargas turned towards Kim to respond, Tarrik's shrill, confident voice quickly interjected, moments before he could speak.

“Gentlemen, I don't foresee any majorly complicated problem here...”  He offered up, in a very calm, calculated demeanor. “All we have to do is make Shepard come to us... We simply retrieve one of the hostages, and broadcast a message across the ship threatening to kill them, should Shepard refuse to surrender himself... If he does resist, we'll simply continue to execute one hostage every five minutes, until he gives in... But I sincerely doubt it'll come to that... I'm more than certain that one will suffice...”

“Don't be an idiot, Tarrik.” Kim countermanded, scoffing at the suggestion. “Shepard ain't gonna fall for that shit...”

“And why not...?! It worked on his team, didn't it?”

“Tarrik... Shepard sacrificed dozens of Alliance ships at the battle of the Citadel...” The one-eyed Commander rebutted, as he turned to look down, with his hands on his hips, giving the volus his full attention. “Hundreds of his own people, just to save the Destiny Ascension... You think he'd sweat a few random hostages...?”

“I agree...” Kargas put forth. “Shepard is a warrior. He would never yield to such petty, cowardice tactics...”  

“Hmm...” Tarrik muttered under the hiss of his respirator, as he bowed his head, conceding defeat. “I suppose you have a point...”

“Yeah... Alright, now let's all think about this for just a moment...” Kim suggested in a placid, composed tone, as he took a stoic demeanor. Meanwhile, Kargas had already pulled the sizable shotgun off his back, and was busy loading a thermal clip into the empty chamber.

“Now, when we first took the ship, these guys fought back...” He began to explain, as he pointed over his shoulder, towards the screen, addressing the semi-circle of accomplices that had formed around it. “But they had absolutely no idea what was going on... It's safe to assume that this isn't some sort of black op, or sting operation... No, these guys just finished fighting a war... I'd say they were vacationing. And that means no armor.. No weapons... Now, we've got his team. Or at least most of it, there could be more... But as long as we keep our heads, this isn't anything we can't handle. The quarian's activated his mechs, and I'll put my men on full alert... We'll comb every inch of this ship until we find 'em...!”

“I'll be the one that finds him...!” Kargas asserted, as a bright red indicator light suddenly lit up on the side of his shotgun, indicating the selection of incendiary ammunition. “And tonight... I'll drink his blood in a toast to his own bones...!”

Tarrik took a slight step back upon hearing the krogan's disturbing intentions. But it wasn't the graphic notion that had him reeling. No, rather it was the sudden, gripping concern over potentially loosing a substantial monetary mother lode.  

“Look, Shepard could be anywhere...” Kim replied, shrugging at Kargas indifferently. “Finding him could be like finding a needle in a haystack. But if you wanna run all over this giant ship searching for him, be my guest...”

“Oh, I'll find him...!” Kargas asserted, as his fingers anxiously tapped the sides of the shotgun they clutched, as if they were keying a piano. “And I don't know what you're trying to say, but I have no intentions of sifting through dry grass for pins or needles of any kind...!”

“...It's just an expression, Karg.” Kim replied, flusteredly rolling his eyes, and rubbing his forehead, as Kargas turned to march out of the room – quickly forcing the group that stood around him to part, and clear a path.

“Kargas, my good krogan, you deserve better than that, don't you...?” A voice suddenly spoke up, slightly obscured by a heavy respirator breath, as Kargas stomped towards the door, causing him to momentarily cease his advance.

“...What now, Tarrik?” The krogan pointedly demanded, with very little patience in reserve.

“Well... I just assumed--” Tarrik began in a nonchalant tone, casually strolling over towards the reptilian behemoth “--as a krogan, you'd want more than to simply rush out, and kill him...”

“You can't even begin to imagine the vendetta I have with this human...” Kargas rebutted with a growl, and a snort through his large nostrils, as he clutched the stock of his shotgun tighter. “Why wouldn't I want that?!”

“Because you're a krogan!” Tarrik affirmed, proudly raising a clenched fist into the air. “You deserve the glory of having him brought to you... Alive...!”

Kargas eased the grip on his shotgun, as he slowly turned around, with his attention suddenly enthralled. He spoke not a word, but his face clearly conveyed the phrase: “I'm listening...”

“Imagine it, Kargas...! Having him brought to you in chains... What greater triumph could their be, than having your enemy dragged to you, and thrown before you on his hands and knees, as he snivels for mercy...?! But there'll be no mercy... will there...?”

“Yes...” The krogan replied in a low, hushed tone, as he turned his eyes towards the ceiling, and ruminated in devious delight. “I like it... Something I can savor...”

“Why don't you let us do it, boss...?” An eager, female voice suddenly interjected, much to the volus' delight, as Teshya stepped forward, pulling her sub-machine gun off her hip. “Let us bring him back for you...!”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho-yeah...!” Her turian partner chimed in, laughing and grinning with an aggressive avidity, as he stepped up beside her, and pulled the large assault rifle off the back of his armor. “I'd love to get me a shot at Shepard, sir!”

“Ah, yes...” The krogan eagerly agreed, as he stepped forth, and placed one hand on each of their shoulders. “Teshya... Davix... You two will be my krantt! You will fight in my name, and you will bring Shepard back to me a broken man... But alive...! So that the last thing he sees will be the sight of his still beating heart crushed within my grip...!”

“Consider it done, sir...!” The turian acknowledged with a stoic salute, before once again gripping his silver rifle with both hands, as he and his asari partner stepped around the krogan, and walked out of the room with a purpose.

“Your conquest will be glorious, my friend...” Tarrik assured, exhibiting a great sense of pride in his voice, as he watched the two Blood-Pack armored mercenaries march out of the room, past the two salarian sentries.

Commander Kim shrugged, and shook his head as he looked on, somewhat perplexed by the strange krogan obsession for glory, and dominance. Without giving it a thought further, he panned his gaze a bit, quickly spotting the turian bearer of bad news out of the corner of his eyes.

“...And you Tylan!” He barked furiously, as he fully turned to face him, and pointed a stiff finger in his face. “You get your boney ass out there! I want you on roving patrol... Now!”

“Uh, y-yes sir... Understood, but...”

“Don't question me boy, just get your ass back out there, and do it!”

“Yes sir, but there's something else...!” Tylan reluctantly blurted out, with both eyes clenched tightly, as if bracing himself for a firing squad.

“...Something else?” Kim reiterated, sounding completely calm, and yet somehow brewing in a sort of silent rage, as he grinned odiously, and nodded his head. “Do you WANT me to kill you...?”

“N-n... No sir...” The turian said, in a shaky voice, that made him sound as if he were about to vomit, while he tried to swallow back at the bile that had formed in his throat.

“More problems, Commander Kim...?” Tarrik queried, in a snide voice, as he approached the two uniformed security officers, after witnessing another debacle in the works.

“...Evidently.” The Commander uttered, groaning and sighing all at once, as he tilted his head back as far as it would go, and allowed his shoulders to droop listlessly, before bringing his bitter, intimidating gaze back down to the turian before him. “Spit it out, boy...!”

“Well, there was... someone else...” Tylan hesitantly began, as his mandibles twitched a bit. “Another human...”

“Part of Shepard's team?”

“I think so...” He continued. “But there was something strange about him... Something different... The Captain had called me over to his table, and asked me to eject a human girl who was ranting, and raving about this guy... As I dragged her out, she kept going on and on about how he was supposedly some legendary figure from their history-Err... Your history...” He corrected himself, with a stutter and an awkward pause, before proceeding.  “Anyway, she just kept babbling on about how this could be her big break, and how she had to get an interv--”

“Whatever, what's you're point?!” Kim snapped, indignantly – quickly running out of patience.

“Well, sir... My point is that I think he's loose on the ship too...” Tylan squeamishly elaborated. “He hasn't shown up with the rest of the passengers, either...”

“How can you be sure...?” The Commander asked, having calmed down a bit, and instead taking on a more wary demeanor. “You'd recognize him?”

“Oh, yes sir...” The turian assured, without a doubt. “I'd recognize this human anywhere. Especially since he was wearing a targeting visor for some reason...”

“Targeting visor...?”

“Yeah...” The turian confirmed with a shrug. “It was weird... The girl kept saying his name...” He elaborated, as he placed his hand over his chin, and paused for a moment of contemplation, before continuing on. “Started with a J, I think... It was... Jorram...? Jorgan...?”

“...Jordan?” Kim supplemented, following along perhaps out of nothing more than sheer curiosity.

“Yeah, Jordan! I think that's it...!” Tylan declared enthusiastically. “Jordan... Jordan Freenan!”

“Jordan Freenan...?” Commander Kim reiterated, dismally confused, with a perplexed eyebrow raised. He took a brief look down at Tarrik, standing beside him, who only reciprocated a confused shrug of his shoulders, before looking back up at the informing turian officer. “Who the f...You sure you don't mean, uh... Gordon Freeman...?”

“Yeah...! Yeah-yeah, that's it! Sorry, I have trouble with human names. But yeah, that's it! Gordon Freeman. He's the other one that's loose!”

“Eheh...” The Commander gave a soft, low titter, as he closed his eyes, bowed his his head, and shook it, with a large, ironic smile on his face. “Eheh-heh-heh...!” He continued to laugh – his titter evolving into a slow, almost maniacal cackle.

“Who is he?” Tarrik queried, interrupting Kim's cynical laughter.

“Who, Gordon Freeman...?” He replied, with traces of his cackle still under his breath. “Gordon Freeman is, as you heard Officer Tylan put it, a human legend... Back when the Combine invaded Earth some TWO-HUNDRED YEARS AGO...” He explained, quickly elevating his voice at the ridiculous notion, as he glared at the turian. “Gordon Freeman was said to be the guy that supposedly kicked their slimy, maggot asses off of Earth...”

“But he's dead.” He declared adamantly. “You know us humans, boy... We don't get to live a thousand years... Hell, we're lucky to see a hundred and fifty.”

“Well, the girl said something about Commander Shepard saying, that he had been in stasis or... or something, and was never really ki...” Tylan abruptly stopped, as Commander Kim raised a stern finger, and placed it up inches in front of the turian's face, quickly prompting him to be silent.

With his subordinate officer clammed up, the Commanding officer raised his right arm, and materialized his omni-tool. He quickly manifested a holographic screen over it, and began punching in a rapid set of keys.

“Bah...!” He griped to himself, annoyed, as he continued his work. “Damn encrypted line...”

As he struggled with his forearm mounted, holographic computer, he was suddenly successful, as he uttered “Ah, here we go...”.

“Alright...” Kim began again, returning his attention to Tylan, as he held his arm out for him to see.

The screen was filled with tiled photographs of a human man, with black rimmed eyeglasses, and a goatee. There were various shots of him, but each of them appeared to be from a high angle, looking downward. And in none of the images did he appear too happy to have his picture taken. In one photo, he was wearing some sort of blue denim jumpsuit, and trying to shield his face from the flash, as he appeared to be stepping out of an old-fashioned, antiquated train. In another photo, he actually seemed to be charging the camera – this time wearing some sort of orange armor, and swinging a long, red and silver piece of steel.

“So you're telling me--” The Commander continued, speaking at a slow, dubious pace. “--that this is the guy you saw...? The guy who's now loose on the ship, along with Shepard...?”

Tylan squinted a bit, as he moved his face closer towards the screen floating over the Commander's arm. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, as he quickly reeled his head back and nodded. “Yeah, that's him!” The turian acknowledged, bolstered with confidence. “That's the guy...! Except, instead of those things he has on his face, he was wearing a combat visor, but that's definitely him...!”

The fog-eyed Commander sighed in disappointment, as he tapped his wrist, and dematerialized his omni-tool. He looked up at Tylan, jutting his chin forward, with a look of indifference on his face. “...Get the fuck out.”

“Y... Yes sir...” The turian stuttered a bit, in acknowledgment, before finding it best to simply concede, and comply. He saluted his superior, which actually wasn't customary, but he felt compelled to do so, perhaps hoping that the gesture would grant him favor in the future. And then, with a nervous twitch of his mandible, he turned, and proceeded towards the exit.

“...idiot.” Kim muttered in a contempt filled whisper, as he watched him walk out the door.

“What if he's telling the truth...?” Tarrik queried, sounding a bit concerned.

“Oh-ho, I'm sure he thinks he is...!” Kim scoffed in reply, as he strolled over towards the nearest console on the bridge, swiveled the chair around, and had a seat. “But he's a moron...! And if I didn't desperately need every last man right now, I would've shot him where he stood...”

“Well, is it possible...?” The inquisitive volus continued to ask, as he stood before the seated Kim – the two of them now nearly at eye-level. “Could this... Freeman still be alive...?”

Kim sighed. “Alright look...” He responded, aggravated. “I never bought into the whole 'One Free Man' bullshit they fed us in school... I don't think he could've done everything they say he did... But supposedly he was a bad mother fucker... A real walkin' one man army... You know, the same kinda shit they say about Shepard... But even so, the guy IS dead! He was killed in some battle with the Combine...”

“They said Commander Shepard was dead, too...”

“That was different, Tarrik.” Kim refuted, stringently. “Like I said, this was about two-hundred years ago... Whoever that idiot thinks he saw - Gordon Freeman is not alive... And he sure as hell isn't on-board this ship...!”

“And if he is...?”

“He's not!” The Commander refuted angrily.

“And if he is...?!” Tarrik demanded again, showing no signs of letting up. “Humor me...!”

“Ugh...” Kim groaned, as he leaned back in his chair, and slumped down. “If he is... Then like Shepard, he's just one man... unarmed, and unarmored... Nothing we can't handle... But if we've got two men... One of them being John Shepard... And the other Gordon Freeman... Then we'd have a serious problem..."