Drift Effect

Chapter 17: Turning Point

In the Hierarchy, a turian soldier was expected to perform their duty, regardless of the circumstances. After all, working together toward a common goal was the foundation of turian civilization. Even tasks that seemed pointless had to be done, no matter the situation.

One of those seemingly pointless duties, especially given the current state of affairs, was being a Data Intercept Operator—a notion Commander Venatix found utterly ridiculous.

Normally, DIOs were invaluable, especially in anti-piracy and military operations within Citadel Space. They could intercept and analyze enemy intel, using it to gain an upper hand. However, that expertise was no longer useful in this alien world, where they had little to no data on the local language or signal protocols. All they could detect were bursts of radio transmissions, which sounded like nothing more than white noise.

Despite the job’s current futility, Venatix hadn’t reassigned them. After all, routine—though most turians were reluctant to admit it—was the lifeblood of the Legions. As long as everyone performed their duties, everything would eventually fall into place.

She sighed, recalling that statement. The irony wasn’t lost on her—they were stuck in this spirit-damned situation because the Admiral hadn’t done her job correctly. A darker part of her mind wondered if her real duty was to expose the Admiral, make a break for it, and report to the Council about everything that had gone wrong.

She shook her head. While she was confident she could convince her own crew, persuading the commanders of the other frigates was another matter. Not to mention General Oraka—he wouldn’t even entertain the idea. Even if he did, there was a strong chance his Captains would disobey him, especially with soldiers under them who had already bled and died on the planet. Such a move would cause massive disruption to the Legion, making any future plans impossible. And even if, by some miracle, they all agreed, there was no guarantee the aliens—who had the technology to shoot at them from beyond the planet—would allow them to escape.

No. That time had passed. Their only option now was to do their jobs and hope they could make it out of this intact.

“Commander!” Comm Technician Velana shouted, snapping Venatix out of her thoughts. “We’re receiving a signal! The data protocols are compatible with our systems—it’s a vid broadcast!”

Venatix's mandibles tightened as her eyes narrowed. “Has the Admiral finally arrived?” she asked, keeping her tone as neutral as possible.

“No, sir,” Velana replied. “The broadcast is mostly made up of Carolinian protocols. It’s the aliens. They’re trying to communicate with us!”

The Commander couldn’t help but find the situation absurd, though she was quite glad now that she hadn’t reassigned the DIOs. “A message for us, huh,” Venatix mused. “Play it.”

The vid wasn’t as clear as it should have been—there was too much static and noise, especially around the edges. Still, it was enough to present a coherent picture. Two Carolinians stood on what appeared to be an elevated platform made of organic and metallic materials, in shades of brown, light blue, and green. It reminded her of the times a Councilor would make a public announcement.

Her attention shifted to the Carolinian behind the podium, dressed in something sleek and form-fitting. A realization hit her—the scene unfolding before her was eerily similar to the mental image she had just formed. Venatix then glanced at the other Carolinian, who she assumed was male. He wore what appeared to be a military uniform, though it seemed a bit too ceremonial for her taste.

“Male asari,” Velana whispered, her tone laced with wonder.

Venatix didn’t blame her. She too was struck by how similar the two races looked. Yet, oddly enough, these Carolinians didn’t possess that ‘sameness’ common among asari. The one who resembled a politician appeared to be gradually losing the fur on his cranium, while the other was blessed with an abundance of it—not only on his head but also on his face.