Super Commander 6

Super Commander

A/N: Those are the essence docs!

Crafter, Commander

After reading Inspired Mass and A Terran Resolution, I decided to make my own Mass effect fic but starting with a Quarian Female MC.

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Part 3.2

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# # #

Back with Yuna…
February 20th, 2169
Hurrel Tech
Morning

Since the release of my promotional video, business simply flooded in. My small arms were selling like hot cakes; the Turians, Asari, and Humans seemed to love them the most. Oh, and the froggies have started sniffing around my business and try very hard to hack my computers.

Their pathetic attempts were rebuffed and caused me to counter Hack them. This is how I discovered a small STG operation in Omega; an interesting info that I was tempted to act upon with fire and blood.

Anyway… back to the shop's operation! Many clients have come and gone to check my wares, some said that they didn’t trust Quarian businesses, others were completely different and ordered the entire catalog. My fabricators were always churning out more and more weapons, as well as the kits and accessories for the weapons.

However, some con men tried their luck daily, disturbing my business and my inventing time. Like right now, a Batarian and a Salarian came to the shop and asked for me and were insistent; the VI in charge and Zithor commed me to come.

I walked behind the counter of the shop in my minimal blue suit, with Truurax in the shop's background. The Batarian smirked as he saw me arrive. “Here you are.”

He was wearing heavy armor, and from what I could get of my scans of the power source of his armor, his kinetic barrier was raised. His obvious evil four black eyes focused on me, and I immediately guessed that the dumb bastards were here for trouble. 

“So what can I do for you, gentlemen?” I asked with a chirp in my voice.

 The Salarian wearing a red and black suit stepped forward and put a weapon I’m familiar with on the counter. It was a heavy pistol, part of the Freedom line, and just by looking at it I could see from the ID number pinging on my Augmented Reality HUD that it didn’t belong to any of those two before me.

“Miss, we came here a week ago. Your weapon doesn't work as advertised, and I demand a refund.” The Salarian claimed smugly.

I sighed. “You're like the third this week trying that stunt with me.”

The two aliens looked at me with a confused expression; they must have thought that they were the first to have come up with a plan to gouge my business. I pointed them to the sign behind me; the rules of my business were simple:

You draw, I draw, you die

No credit, cash only

Pay now, not later

No refund accepted

I harrumphed and went on a rant. “You think that I don't keep track of who I sell my weapons to? You have never entered this shop, and don’t know the rules. This weapon belongs to a Turian, who was recently killed and found in a ditch. Oh, I see… You murdered him, and because the gun is DNA locked, you can't use it. So you came to make a quick buck, huh?”

The Batarian didn’t seem impressed by my rant and the big reveal of their bad deed. He moved forward and looked down on me, taking advantage of his height. “Bitch, just give us the money and we will leave.”

Omega was that kind of place, idiots everywhere; they saw me kill hundreds of people with special weaponry and those guys still came into my shop to threaten me? I sighed. “I’m bored, they come and act just like thugs…”

I reached for the gun they had brought on the counter. "As for this gun?”

They dumbly watched the gun come alive in my hand, I removed the safety and pulled the trigger on the dumb Batarian and the Salarian. I aimed at the Batarian’s dick and at the Salarian’s left thigh.

ZIP! ZIP! The two bullets shattered their kinetic barrier as if it was tofu and penetrated their armor and suit. They fell on the ground holding where I shot them.

“Argh!”

“Grrkk!”

“The pistol works just fine." I said as I looked at the two aliens bleeding out.

Truurax, the Ancestors bless his soul,  appeared menacingly behind them. "Now leave. For your little stunt, you're banned from the shop."

Though I doubted that they would survive and would just bleed out. Crossing my arms under my breasts, I became thoughtful. “This was a waste of my time. I think I need more employees, and I know just where to get them.”

# # #

(Zana'Taalan nar Sherah)

2 hours later…
Omega
Gozu district
Quarian slums

Zana was working on the water filter of the communal water dispenser, which was breaking down again. Why isn’t anyone splurging on a new filter altogether? Ah, yes, the price inflation on new parts because we are ‘suit rats’. Life on Omega was depressing, but it was better than the deal Zana would have been given on the Citadel.

The reports of what C-sec did to Quarians coming out of ships by holding them all in a cell for days for ‘processing’ have become notorious; there were also the beatings and the hunting of her people. Zana wanted none of that Turian shit, and changed her destination to the Terminus system.

She finally disassembled the filter and saw all the gunk and dirty stuff inside the filter pads. Zana was rethinking her life as she really didn't want to dirty her suit.

Until she heard behind her, “By the Ancestors, this needs replacing ASAP, there's no saving it.”

Zana turned and saw a Quarian Female wearing a pristine blue, black and gold dress on a black suit looking at the disassembled water filter.

It was strange to see a seemingly wealthy Quarian. The huge and strangely shaped pistol strapped to her thighs made her look more dangerous than she was. She pointed her omni-tool at the water filter and began to scan it.

The results must be bad because the newcomers' body language became tense, and she said, “This Is unsanitary, this should have been changed at least six months ago.”

Zana nodded. There were people down with dysentery already in the slums. “You don't have to tell me, I keep telling the leader that. But we cannot do that as the price of the parts we need are too inflated because we are Quarians. We have many cases of dysentery at the clinic … Someone wants us dead, I think.”

The girl turned to Zana. “I see, fuck. It's time to do my good deed of the day.”

She walked outside the dried pool and once again used her omni-tool. “Zitor, do you copy?”

“Yuna, what can I do for you?” A male voice asked. 

Zana was baffled by the fact that the call was on speaker; normally, this wasn’t possible with current omni-tools. Zana listened as the richly dressed Quarian girl ordered, “Send a construction truck and the experimental medical unit to my location. I need them quickly. Oh and bring Truurax as well, we might need to fight a bunch of bosh'tets.”

“Roger!”

The girl sighed and looked around at the buildings around her, they were barely holding on with duct tape and spit. “Okay, we're going to do some heavy work. I can't let my people suffer.”

“Who are you?” Zana finally asked the question that had been burning her lips.

The girl turned to Zana and replied with a small bow. “My name is Yuna'Hurrel nar Laekor.”

“Huh?” That name was rather familiar… then Zana remembered where she had heard it. It was the name of that new Quarian who came to Omega and opened a business and was attacked by the Black Knife gang, and won. “Vot! You're that girl who zeroed the black knife gang!”

Yuna laughed and said proudly, “My legend is spreading.”

Before Zana could say anything, two large white rectangular hover trucks slowly descended from the sky. Cannons and turrets were sticking out from the roof and side of the trucks ,and Zana noticed that they were heavily armored.

“Zitor was fast.” Yuna commented idly.

The containers at the back of the truck were made to land. Yuna turned to Zana and asked, “Hey, you, I forgot to ask, but… what’s your name?”

Zana replied as she put her tool back on her belt. “I’m… Zana'Taalan nar Sherah.”

Yuna seemed to know which ship Zanna came from. “Ah, the Sherah, the ship is one of the raw ore processors in the fleet, if I remember well.”

Zanna tilted her head. “You know every ship in the fleet or something?”

Yuna shrugged. “More or less. Anyway, Zana'Taalan, want to help me fix that water filter? I can fab a new one.”

The containers’ frames opened vertically, and Zana could spot tools, power tools! And a bunch of industrial sized fabricators. Zana stared in shock, then took everything in stride as she shouted, “I will! Please, we need your help. My friends are almost dead.”

Yuna nodded, took Zana's arm and pulled her toward the clinic. “Okay… let’s go to that clinic on the right first, let’s save your friends and the people.”

# # #

(General pov)

Yuna helped treat the ill Quarians. Though the leader of the slum, who was in charge of security, didn't trust her at first. However, seeing his people recover from their ordeal helped assuage his fears of the too clean and young Quarian girl.

Then she started fixing the water dispenser and made it better with the help of Zana'Taalan. Yuna replaced the lights in the slum and did a quick inspection of everyone’s home, connecting them to the water dispenser to give them access to running water by installing a pump and building canalisation that was connected to a life support system. Yuna had been surprised that they hadn’t done it already even with a makeshift rig.

The power grid in the Quarian slum which has been struggling and on its last leg was repaired quickly and even hardened. Yuna's reserve of omni-gel was spent, but she felt accomplished to have helped. The leader, Yen'Vorul nar Taahok, thanked Yuna and started to explain to her the situation of the Quarian in Omega. 

A gang, The Sons of Ivanki, was forcing the Quarian to pay for protection in the Gozu District. It was another gang filled with Batarian, Turian and Salarian who hated Quarians and who had been tightening the screws on the Quarian slums to steal their business and the location to replace them.

Well, Yuna's reaction in learning what was happening was obvious. She called Zitor and Truurax and asked them to come loaded for war, and that she was soon going to be a district leader in Omega.

# # #

(Yen'Vorul nar Taahok)

Yuna'Hurrel seemed to be a woman of action. She said that she would heal everyone, so she did so; she said that she would fix everything, and she did so. Yen felt a tad inadequate there for a moment, for the last ten years that he had been on his pilgrimage, all he could do was give platitudes and run out the gang bangers who wanted to hurt and exploit the Quarian people. Omega had a way to grind you down and make you fall into despair; everyone was against you and took from you.

The Quarian slums weren’t always a slum; they had been a growing community trying to help new pilgrims gather resources and return to the Fleet ASAP. However, Yen and his fellow associates had underestimated the greed and the hate against their race. Merchants started raising prices for essential items and quality of life products; then, there came the sabotage and harassment from the gang who thought of the Quarian as a threat to their business thanks to their excellent skills in engineering, mechanics, and weapon development.

In essence, they were going to take over this part of Omega, and the gangs wanted to stop them; they succeeded, either their skilled members were killed or made to leave the space station for new horizons. Yen didn’t blame those who fled; they were getting picked off one by one, and this is how their community turned into a slum filled with people with no prospects.

Things were changing, though. Yuna’Hurrel practically took over the security building and started making plans against the main gang, who were causing problems.

“I’m going to take over this entire district as it borders mine.” Yuna’Hurrel declared to everyone present in the room.

“Wait what?! Yen, she’s crazy.” Zeeni'Tenna nar Yafirn, a female quarian pilgrim who recently joined the security team.

Yen shook his head; he remembered what Yuna’Hurrel did to the black knife gang. “Don’t underestimate her, let’s at least hear her out.” The tall Quarian turned to Yuna, who was using her omni-tool, and asked, “Miss Yuna, do you think we can do it?”

Yuna threw a data packet on the makeshift holo-table of the security center. Schematics of the entire Gozu district appeared on screen. Yen was surprised that she had already hacked this part of the space station.

The young Quarian replied, “It’s possible, I have the weapons and the means, but I need the bodies. You’re what? Five security guards against a hundred of those thugs?”

Yen nodded. “More or less, yes.”

He hadn't kept count, but the Sons of Ivanki must have passed the two hundred marks long ago. Swelling their ranks like ticks on the dying animal that is Omega. 

Yuna began to sit at the edge of the holo table, looking at the data; she focused her attention on the ventilation system in the building the gang used as a HQ. She zoomed on the life support unit connected to it. “Hmm, we're outnumbered. Then we need to go the subtle route. This entire district runs on a separate life support system than the station, right?”

Yen smiled inside his helmet. Yuna’Hurrel wanted to play asymmetric warfare. “I see what you’re trying to do, now.”

Yuna looked at him; her helmet became transparent; Yen saw how pretty and young she was as she gave him an impish smile. “As you might have guessed, Mr. Yen. We’re going to take over the life support system where they are gathering and disable all those gangbangers. We must get the innocent out of the way first, you know… The blue bitch dancers. Then we’re going to start cleaning up.”

Yen tilted his head and said, “You have a low opinion of Asari, don't you?”

“It's those old strippers who want our people poor and dead.” Yuna shrugged.

After this small exchange, things went faster. Yuna’s people, a Quarian named Zitor'Widor nar Varah and a Krogan called Truurax, came and brought weapons and other stuff that Yen can’t believe a Quarian girl barely one month in her pilgrimage got. She had on a black and red environ-suit that became completely transparent, and was making her unable to be seen; her footsteps were silent as well, and despite Yen using his omni-tool to check for an EM or heat signature, he saw nothing.

“You created a suit with an integrated cloaking field?” Yen was completely gobsmacked by that little piece of tech.

Yuna sighed. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy. The current prototype has juice for only four hours.”

Yen looked at her with shock. Current cloak prototypes made by the Asari could barely stay active for one hour, and this girl complained that her model could barely stay invisible for four? Was Yuna’Hurrel a perfectionist or an overachiever? There were many people like her in the Quarian Fleet; they were all on the Hive ships, in the labs. 

Yen asked himself why someone as smart and gifted was allowed to go on a pilgrimage at all. Something must have happened, but Yen wasn’t that nosey; what mattered to him was that Yuna’Hurrel could help their people.

Yen turned to his second in command. “See, Zeeni? We might succeed after all.”

The female Quarian huffed and crossed her arms. “I hope so, Yen.”

Yuna chuckled at the two of them and raised a fist in the air. “Alright, everyone, let's do this!”

# # #

(Salarian STG agent)

Omega
Afterlife Club

Tuban Voss was a patient and determined Salarian operator, he discovered that the Quarian Fleet had allowed one of their brightest minds to go on a pilgrimage. The fools. Instead of keeping them on a tight leash and bringing their people from extinction, they sent their skilled young on those “pilgrimages” to control the population in their fleet.

And here was a Quarian who completely changed how the game was played as she fixed the overheating problems of ground weapons in the galaxy. His quarry has been splashing her wares all over Omega’s network, and it was spreading in the terminus systems. The heatsink mods and custom weapons she made were slowly spreading in the station as well; the young Quarian was redefining the notion of what a good gun was.

If she had been in Council space, she would have been put under control long ago, as she threatened the current players of the Weapon Industry. But here in the Terminus systems? Yuna’Hurrel wasn’t able to be touched by the council’s conventional methods to deal with those who rock the boat.

It came to people like Tuban to bring balance to the board for the sake of all. He was currently on the second level of the club in a private booth; he needed the venue to question a very irate Batarian ex-gang leader. He succeeded by playing the being with alcohol and Asari exotic dancers. It always worked.

The Batarian, Farlak Ghef'Coprak, spoke and said, "She killed my whole crew, and turned their murders into an ad for her shop. Who the hell does that?!"

Farlak took a deep swig of his glass of Blue dot cocktail and slammed the glass on the left side of his armchair, right on the cup holder. “A crazy bitch, that’s who.”

Tuban nodded. This Quarian was quirky and downright dangerous; she seemed to mesh too well with the environment of Omega. “She does show psychopathic tendencies toward anyone who isn’t a Quarian.”

The Batarian gasped and widened his four eyes. “You think she’s a speciesist?” 

The Salarian took a sip of his cocktail. Partaking in the small fizz of fermented insects in the carbonated liquid. He made the liquid swirl in its glass and replied, “I wouldn’t be surprised, her people are oppressed by others, so she feels that she doesn’t need to care about other sentients’ thoughts or feelings, especially from the Citadel Races who have forgone her species.”

Farlak looked vindicated as he heard Tuban’s theory. “Have you seen what she calls my people on the net? Bats, like those flying mammals from Earth! I wish I could just capture and sell that bitch.”

“Why aren’t you?” Tuban asked. 

Farlak slammed his fist on the armchair, the glass fell on the ground, spilling its content. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?! No one wants to mess with her anymore! Aria herself said that she would handle her! And no one fucks with Aria T’Loak when she says something is off-limit.”

Tuban conceded that it was dangerous to want to attack or deal with the uppity Quarian. But needs must, he needed to get her before she got too big; she was still innovating, getting stronger as her products spread in the Terminus systems. “I see, thank you for your insights. As agreed, the entire service will be paid for tonight.”

Farlak smirked. “Thanks, I’m going to drown myself in alcohol and pussy.”

The dancer on the pole kept dancing, not caring one bit about what they were saying. Despite the Asari dancers being the most well-informed sentients on Omega, Tuban took care that his intentions for the Quarian’s abduction wouldn’t be anticipated, so he needed to move fast. He left the club and wrote his report for the Commander of the Omega operation:

Target Yuna’Hurrel can't be bribed, swayed, or co-opted; I recommend that torture and leverage are most likely to work once the target has been safely acquired.

# # #

Back with Yuna…

The Mission: Impossible theme was playing in the background of my helmet while I crawled in the cavernous air ducts of the main building where the Sons of Ivanki gathered. Music was resonating and echoing in the ducts as the gang members were having a party.

Who the hell designed those huge air ducts where anyone can enter to spy or infiltrate? This is so stupid. You can’t tell me it’s for maintenance reasons! Robots can do the fucking job! But maybe they had technological limitations at that time, they couldn’t build infiltration-proof environmental systems.

Some kind of rat-sized creature passed by, and made me stick to the wall on my right in disgust. When I get this place under me, I’m going to start an extermination… do they let vermin roam like that? Yuck!

I’m glad that I’m wearing my suit, I don’t want to breathe the excrement or piss of those creatures; how can people live like this? Life in the Quarian fleet made you a fucking clean freak.

Twenty meters later, I finally arrived at the central control unit of the life support system of the building my current nemesis used. There was something that 90% of the Citadel races shared with each other: they were all oxygen breathers.

That is why I decided to use a pacification method taken right out of the Geneva Convention checklist. I was going to gas my enemies, or should I say, give them Carbon Monoxide poisoning.

I know, it's a terrible act, if I did it to a bunch of Quarians or humans; I don't care much about Asari, Vorchas, Turians, Salarians, and other races present. Raising my omni-tool toward the control unit, I started hacking into it. It was rather easy; the firewall was like tofu and hadn't been updated for fifty years.

I ignored the disgusting vermin crawling everywhere and defecating in the air ducts. Yeah I was always going to check the atmosphere in each District now… there's no way that I will let my people breathe in that shit.

While I was working, I saved the current preset of the control device, then I changed the gas composition of the atmosphere to carbon monoxide and applied the changes. The device chugged a bit as it was doing its work, it showed its age…

I opened a holographic screen tied to the building's security system to see the results of my actions. What happened next is that everyone inside the building started coughing and falling on the ground, struggling to breathe.

It wasn’t easy to watch, but I steeled my heart. I am not showing mercy, they wouldn't give me any. When everyone was finally down, I returned the oxygen.

I immediately reached for my associates. “This is Yuna. You can start to evac the blue strippers and resuscitate them, the drones will start cleaning the gang members.”

“We will comply.” I heard Yen'Vorul reply.

Opening another screen, I saw Truurax, Zithor, and the Quarians from the slum burst into the building through the video feed of my drones.

The limited VI housed into the drones followed everyone, they were equipped ionic caster designed to breach mass effect shields and taze the fuck outta people with powerful electro-laser.

A krogan would tank one of them easily, but two or three drones? They'd get cooked in their shell.

My allies took care of the Asari and gave them some modicum of help and aftercare. You see, all those Asari strippers belong to Aria T’Loak's organization; this is how she keeps a pulse on everything; they are spies and informants. And I didn't want the woman on my case for this so I spared them.

Truurax and Zithor started gunning down the downed gang members while some were starting to recover, others were still down. My drones did half of the job by killing the rest. Yen and his posse were hesitating, but finally started clearing the building in earnest with the shotguns I lent them.

Fighting this way wasn't that bad… Now though, how will the rest of Omega react about what happened here tonight.