Mass Effect: Seraphim

Odd Place For A Warlord

Chapter 1: Odd Place For A Warlord.
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Verdantia: (Relay System) 338-889-005-004).
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Verdantia was not a planet one would expect to find on any known star map. Situated on the fringes of the Attican Traverse, the lush world was a curious anomaly—untouched by civilization, yet brimming with verdant jungles, sprawling oceans, and dense mountain ranges. The kind of place people went to get lost, whether from the law or from themselves.

Humanity, still licking its wounds from first contact with the Turians at Shanxi, had sent out scouts—pathfinders tasked with charting new systems and evaluating potential colonies. Verdantia was one such candidate. But unlike most wild planets, this one had an odd, ominous signature buried in its rich ecosystems—an encrypted signal. What it was transmitting was anyone's guess, but the system had piqued enough interest to send a small detachment of military and scientific personnel to investigate.

Captain Amara Thorn stood on the loading ramp of her shuttle, her boots planted firmly in the muck of Verdantia's dense jungle floor. She adjusted her helmet, squinting through the polarized visor at the distant mountain range. Sweat beaded her brow beneath her armor. Even the advanced cooling systems of her hardsuit couldn't completely dampen the oppressive humidity of this place. She wiped her brow, muttering under her breath.

"Odd place for a first mission," she said, her voice barely registering over the ambient noise of the jungle—chirping insects, unseen animals rustling through underbrush, and a distant rumble that might have been a waterfall, or thunder. "The hell kind of signal comes from a world like this?"

"Well, Cap, if it was easy, they wouldn't have sent us," Lieutenant Gregor "Griz" Anvar replied, stepping beside her and nudging her with an elbow. He was all rugged grins and bravado, his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder. Griz was part of the Alliance Marines—veteran of the First Contact War, the kind of soldier who didn't scare easy.

"You'd think they'd have sent a real recon team if they thought it was serious," Thorn replied, her gaze still scanning the tree line. There was something wrong about this planet, something she couldn't shake. It felt too quiet, too still. And that encrypted signal? She had a feeling it wasn't anything good.

Her team was small—just five. A mix of Alliance Marines and scientists tasked with tracking down the source of the mysterious transmission. What had first seemed like a routine mission was quickly turning into something stranger.

"Think it could be pirates?" Griz asked, breaking the silence. "Some fringe group settin' up shop?"

"Maybe," she mused. "Or worse. Someone might be waiting for us."

Before Griz could respond, the shuttle's comm crackled to life. "Captain Thorn, we're picking up movement. You might want to see this." The voice belonged to Doctor Elara Nezrin, one of the scientists assigned to the team. Smart, but jittery—her nerves didn't exactly instill confidence in the rest of the crew.

Thorn exchanged a glance with Griz before they headed into the shuttle. Inside, the cramped interior was filled with the hum of electronics and holo-displays. Dr. Nezrin was hunched over one of the consoles, her face bathed in blue light as she examined a scan of the terrain.

"Show me," Thorn said, pulling off her helmet and wiping sweat from her forehead.

Nezrin tapped the console, bringing up a map of the surrounding area. A faint red blip appeared on the edge of the scan, near the base of the mountains to the north. It was moving slowly but deliberately, weaving through the jungle like a predator stalking its prey.

"That's not wildlife," Thorn noted, narrowing her eyes. "Too methodical."

Nezrin swallowed nervously. "It gets weirder. We tried to triangulate the signal's origin... and it's coming from the same direction as whatever this is."

Thorn's eyes narrowed. "We're not the first ones here, are we?"

"No, Captain," Nezrin said softly. "And I don't think they're friendly."

The jungle loomed over them as the team made their way toward the mountains. The trek was long, the air thick with moisture, and the oppressive canopy above blotted out much of the sunlight. Thorn's boots squelched in the mud, and the occasional cry of an unseen beast set her nerves on edge.

Griz walked ahead, his rifle at the ready, scanning for signs of movement. Nezrin followed closely behind, flanked by two more marines, Private Joss and Corporal Malik, both green but eager. The jungle seemed alive, teeming with potential threats hidden just beyond sight.

As they reached the edge of the mountain range, Thorn halted, holding up a fist. Griz crouched beside her, peering through the thick brush.

Ahead, the ground sloped upward into a natural valley, flanked by jagged cliffs. And there, sitting at the base of the mountain, was something that didn't belong. A structure—a large, armored bunker, its surface covered in vines and moss. Ancient, by the looks of it, but still very much intact.

"The signal's coming from there," Nezrin whispered, her voice trembling.

"Look," Griz muttered, nodding toward the entrance. Thorn followed his gaze and felt her stomach twist. Emerging from the bunker, moving with a deliberate, hulking stride, was a massive figure—a Krogan.

Thorn knew immediately what she was looking at. Krogan were a rare sight this far out in the galaxy, and most of them preferred to keep to themselves. But this one... this one was different.

The Krogan stood easily over seven feet tall, his armored bulk gleaming under the faint light filtering through the canopy. His skin was dark, marred by old scars, and a single eye gleamed with a predatory focus. He carried a massive shotgun slung across his back, but what caught Thorn's attention was the way he surveyed the area, like a warlord inspecting his domain.

"That's no random merc," Griz whispered, his voice tight with concern.

"No," Thorn agreed. "That's Throgar Nex."

The name hit like a hammer. Throgar Nex, a Krogan warlord whose reputation had spread across the galaxy like wildfire. Rumors painted him as a ruthless tactician, a beast of war who had turned entire planets to ash in his search for power and revenge. If he was here, on Verdantia, it could only mean one thing—this planet was more than it seemed.

But before Thorn could give the order to pull back, Throgar Nex turned his head slightly, his one good eye locking onto their position.

"He knows we're here," Thorn whispered, her heart racing.

In an instant, the Krogan warlord moved, faster than anyone his size had any right to. He raised a massive hand, and in that moment, the jungle fell silent.

"Humans," his deep, guttural voice rumbled, carrying through the air like a distant storm. "I wondered when you'd show up."

Thorn's blood ran cold. The first contact between humanity and another species wasn't supposed to go this way. It wasn't supposed to be with a warlord.

And it certainly wasn't supposed to be with Throgar Nex.