Firebird

The Firebird

The engines hummed gently as it powered up. White and blue paint, moon and starlight reflecting gently off of it. It was a small ship, passenger vessel, but it still had weapons equipped, some sort of light cannon. He had seen something like this before on the Normandy, but they weren't quite this small. The airlock opened, air wheezing out as the pressure equalized, and the professor stepped in and he followed after, feeling the gaze of his son on his back. He would be taking a passenger vessel back to the citadel, he lived there now, working with C-sec.

The inside was much more lavish than the lab, well furnished, but the same annoying white linoleum, he listened to the professor's boots echo loudly. Why she wore such tall boots, he would never know. "So, you're coming with me to hunt a spectre killer. You realise that this person is killing spectres, right? Spectres." He leaned on the wall as she adjusted the pressure systems, shutting the airlocks. "And where is your pilot? Don't tell me you're a helmsman too." He yawned, his body was tired from being dead for so long. He even rested for two days as they tested him to make sure his cognitive processes were up to par.

"I can fly actually, I can man this entire ship myself. Would I? No. My job is to help you hunt whoever it is down, and kill them. I couldn't do it alone, I tried." She shut the control panel, locking it with her security code, and Thane was able to see how well manicured her nails were as she tapped away at the screen, in the deepest shade of crimson, contrasting with the blue screen. "The pilot is probably still in the ship, he never leaves here actually. Literally lives in the cockpit. It's my ship, but I let him. He's served me well for half a decade. Name's Kyre, a Salarian."

"You remind me of Cerberus." He said bluntly, folding his arms and looking to the artificial lighting. "You're bringing people back to life and doing... well, crazy things."

"Well I assure you, we're not Cerberus. We're nothing like them. We listen to the laws of the council where applicable, and we believe in interspecies cooperation for the betterment of the entire galaxy, not just humanity." She smiled brightly, leading him into the main room, the engines still powering up, but the humming becoming more subtle, "Phoenix is the best organisation I have ever worked for. Ever. We get the resources and funding we need, and everything is ethical, well for the most part. If anything we do is illegal, we make sure to do it outside of council space." She sat down on the red sofa, crossing her legs, "Though I am willing to answer any questions you have about the organization."

He sat down on the synthetic brown leather across from her. It still smelled new. "I don't have questions, I'll do my job. Although I would like to know how many spectres they have killed so far."

"Seven Asari, a Turian, and two Salarians. The council has yet to investigate. It's being blamed on the dangers of the job, but there's no way so many spectres could die in such a short time. We're talking about the most highly trained individuals in the galaxy. The chances of Batarian slavers actually being able to take them down are slim to none." She held onto her chair slightly as they begin to pull out of the port, "I hate this part."

The vertigo wasn't too strong, clearly the pilot was skilled, but Koi didn't look too happy, clearly it affected her more than it did him.

He looked out the window to see the desert world his ancestors had dwelled, Rakhana. He stood up to get a closer view, fingers laying on the glass, the view taking his breath away. He could make out their more populated areas, the land stained, still visible from space. That was over eight centuries ago. He couldn't help but wonder if there were still survivors down there, or the rest of the inhabitants had wiped themselves out entirely. If the Hanar hadn't rescued the 350,000 Drell that they did, they would have ceased to exist entirely.

That terrified him.

To owe one's existence to another race, to know that their decisions could have caused his species to cease to exist entirely. That was why they owed the Hanar, it reminded him of just how fragile their lives were. How a single decision could impact such a large number of people.