Mass Effect: Duty

Introduction

In the icy wilderness of a forgotten world, a lone turian silhouette was etched against the unforgiving glare of a sun that burned with relentless fury. His eyes, hardened by countless battles, scanned the desolate landscape, the howling winds carrying echoes of untold stories lost beneath the frozen wasteland. The heat from the sun seared his armor, a stark contrast to the biting frost that crunched beneath his boots. The struggle for survival on this harsh planet was palpable, a testament to life's tenacity in the face of imminent doom. As he stood atop a snowy dune, staring into the horizon where earth and sky blended into an indistinguishable haze of white, he could almost hear the whispering secrets trapped within towering ice spires that erupted from the ground like frozen sentinels. He was alone, yet he felt a strange connection to this desolate place, as if his destiny was somehow intertwined with its hidden mysteries.

A sixth of the Seventy Seventh Reconnaissance Battalion lay camped just behind him. The idle sounds of camp filled the air. Laughter from the free-flowing conversations, the clangs of food being served, and finally, the most crucial sound, the sounds of heat emitting from the machines they had been supplied to keep warm and alive on this arid planet. It had only been a few days since they had landed, slowly marching towards their mission objective. The Colonel sent fifty troops to Thelara to gather intel about a hidden asari research camp, which may have found an artefact concerning something a human spectre had mentioned.

"Still nothing?" a voice said out next to him. The turian recognised the voice as his captain's and gave her a subtle nod while continuing to stare into the blank abyss. The turian continued scanning the horizon, his keen eyes searching for any signs of movement in the vast expanse of ice and snow. He knew their destination lay somewhere out there, hidden among the frozen dunes and ancient ruins, but so far, they had found nothing but endless wasteland.

The captain sighed her breath frosting in the frigid air. "This planet gives me the creeps. It's like this whole place is dead."

The turian grunted in agreement. The howling wind and biting cold seemed to sap the life out of everything. Even the sun offered little comfort. Its pale light filtered through the haze of ice particles swirling in the atmosphere.

"Let's give it another hour and then head back to camp," the captain said, clapping a hand on the turian's shoulder. There's no point freezing our tails off if there's nothing to find."

The turian nodded, eyes never leaving the horizon.

The turian continued his vigilant watch over the desolate landscape, though he knew there was little chance of spotting anything amidst the endless expanse of ice and snow. Still, duty compelled him to keep scanning, hoping for some sign to emerge from the blank whiteness.

Minutes ticked by, marked only by the moaning wind and the muffled sounds of the camp behind him. He flexed his fingers inside his insulated gloves to keep the blood flowing to ward off the biting cold. This planet sapped heat and life from anything foolish enough to brave its harsh climate.

Before the turian knew it, he sat lonesomely around a heat emitter. He stared into the orange light that shone as his brain emptied of the thoughts of duty that were once persistent. Sounds of laughter continued to make their way throughout the camp; it made the turian uncomfortable as while they were not expecting any trouble on this mission, it broke everything inside of him to not maintain a hands-on approach when it came to being outside Palaven. His captain, leading the mission, took a more relaxed approach to why they were out here, while he did not.

Nightfall came as the night watch awoke to take their positions to guard over the camp. The turian found himself in his tent with three other turians who lay in bed, still talking amongst each other. The lone turian continued to attempt to fall asleep while his eyes remained locked into the bunker above him, praying silently that the voices would stop and sleep would overtake them all.

"What do you think, bareface?" a voice asked. The other two laughed at the remark, which was common in the unit as he was the only one with no face markings, a looked-down-upon asset of his people's society.

The turian ignored the provocation as an awkward silence filled the air; it was just what he was looking for as the other three continued to talk, shifting topics once they didn't receive their desired response.

When morning came, his extremely dry throat reminded him of his place in the galaxy and that it was time to awaken. "The captain wants to see you," a voice said through the tent flap.

The turian sighed and slowly got up from his bunk, his joints aching. He had not slept well, tossing and turning throughout the night, both in fear of some sort of hazing by his bunkmates or an attack that would happen throughout the night.

He stepped out into the pale morning light, the cool air stinging his bare face. The rest of the camp was already bustling with activity as the other turians packed tents and prepared their gear. He spotted his captain consulting a datapad by the central firepit.

"Sir?" he said, mandibles fluttering slightly.

"Ah, there you are," she said briskly. "We've gotten some new intel overnight. Our scouts reported that Cerberus has landed on the planet, we need you to take a squad and provide support to our scouts." The turian's mandibles pulled tight against his face. Cerberus. The human terrorist organisation had become a plague upon the galaxy ever since the First Contact War. And now they were here, on this remote colony world that was supposed to be an easy scouting mission.

"How many?" he asked tersely.

The captain grimaced. "At least two dozen. They seem to be establishing a base of operations." She tapped the datapad. "The scouts counted several prefab structures already in place, with more arriving by shuttle."

The turian's talons curled involuntarily. "We should strike now, before they entrench themselves," he said.

But the captain was already shaking her head. "We can't risk letting the asari know we're here. Our orders are to observe and report back, not engage."

The turian's mandibles flared in barely contained anger. "So we just sit here while Cerberus establishes a foothold right under our noses? Who knows what havoc they could wreak if left unchecked."

The captain's expression was sympathetic but firm. "I understand your frustration. But we have our orders. The asari colony is unaware of our presence, and that is how High Command wants it for now."

The turian scowled, his avian features accentuating his displeasure. But he trusted his captain's judgement. She had not led them astray yet. The turian gave his captain a nod, and a quick salute.