Snippet #2272813

“See, I’ve been noticing the core’s been spiking when I run up the secondary weapon systems.” Dusk spoke quickly, almost too quickly for the technician who’d come to her assistance. “It’s not going to cause anything critical to explode, but in a heavy combat situation, the excess heat and burn off could cause some malfunctions. Eezo is not my area of expertise, but I’m thinking it’s cause the core is starting to get a little old…” The tech scratched his head, raising an eyebrow at the pilot.

“The core shouldn’t be causing the spike, even if it’s got some years on it. It might be something with…” He blinked, pausing for a moment. “The…ah…” Dusk tilted her head slightly at his sudden choke up, lowering the omni-tool displaying the read outs. The tech noticed, shaking his head sheepishly. “Sorry, just uh…” He gestured over her shoulder. “Do you…know him?”

Blinking once, the merc turned on her heel, frowning when she spotted Martin sitting casually on the lip of Daedra’s passenger cabin. He waved lightly, inclining his head ever so slightly as the woman heaved a heavy sigh. “Yeah, that’s my partner. Gimme a minute…” She muttered, stalking forward without hearing the tech’s response. Once close, she leaned forward slightly, face just above his as she stared down her nose at him. “Martin.”

“Dusk.”

“You’re hovering. You know I hate when you hover.” He raised his eyebrow curiously, which only deepened her frown. “Don’t even deny it. What do you want?” The two held their stare down for a moment, before he shrugged carelessly.

“Lunch.”

Straightening, she laughed humourlessly. “Then get some. I’ve got work to do, unlike someone else I know.” There was a beat before she quickly added. “You did finish your checks, right? And the maintenance? Calibrations? Any repa-”

“Yes, I did.” He cut in swiftly, seemingly amused by her worry. “And I already got lunch.” The statement derailed her worries, earning an incredulous look from the pilot. Martin didn’t waste any words, gesturing to a tray just behind him with two plates of food and a pair of mugs. “Some company would be nice though.”

Blinking incredulously, she shot him a withering glare. “You are not eating in Deadra!” She thumped him in the arm threateningly, earning a chuckle from him as he nursed the hit. “Not a chance in hell! And I don’t have time for some ‘lunch date’ with you, the engine isn’t gonna adjust itself, and then the guns need cali-”

“Dusk.” She paused, clearly not fond of being interrupted in the middle of a tech rant. “I’d like to have lunch with you.”

“I told you-”

“Dusk. I’d like to have lunch with you.” He insisted, and she ran her hands down her face in exasperation. “Otherwise I’ll be eating in Deadra while you work.” With an aggravated growl, she nodded sharply, jerking her head off towards an area behind the gunship as she turned back to the technician.

“Take 15.”

“20.” Martin called over her head as he retrieved the tray. Dusk glared over her shoulder at him, but nodded agreement to his statement. The tech, clearly confused, nevertheless complied; heading off towards another section of the hangar for his other duties. “Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah…what’d you get?” The two rounded the ship as they spoke, coming into a small nook in the storage area that had been arranged into something of a living space. At least, a living space combined with a mechanic’s station. The twin tables that dominated the space were littered with tools and parts in various states of assembly, several miniature screens displaying status of the various projects. Tucked into the back was a pair of low chairs around a short almost bistro-like table, the only one not buried under machinery. Off to the right of the table, a hammock had been fastened to the bulkhead, with only a meagre pillow in it.

“Chilli. The kitchen is apparently very well stocked.” Her eyes sparked at the mention of it, and he set the tray down on the table without any further delay. The pair took their seats, Dusk swiftly digging in while Martin examined her little nook. “They did provide you a room, you know…”

She fixed him a look, fork held tightly between her lips. Pulling the utensil out, she jabbed it towards him. “Uh-huh, and I don’t want it. Private rooms are so quiet. Makes you forget you’re on a ship without the hum. How people sleep when it‘s so quiet is beyond me…”

“And the hangar is better? Ignoring the possibility of violent decompression, that is.”

She nodded enthusiastically, speaking between mouthfuls. “This place has some great acoustics. Can feel the vibrations when the drive kicks in. Best lullaby I ever heard.” The mercenary chuckled at his companion, slowly picking at his own food. The conversation fell to the way side for a few minutes, a companionable silence between them before she spoke . “…so how’s your room, anyway?”

“Nice, I suppose. Has it’s own bathroom.” He tapped his fork on his lip. “Right near the battery, so makes it easy to handle my work for the day.”

“That‘s important, yeah…” She muttered, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before going back to her food. Once her bowl was picked clean, the pilot hopped up from her seat, seemingly eager to return to work. Despite her apparent eagerness though, Dusk glanced towards Martin once more. “It’s pretty well lit down here all day, you know.” He flicked his gaze up to her, but remained quiet. “And I still have your old hammock, in-case you…you know…” She trailed off awkwardly, causing him to grin.

“Lonely in the hangar?”

She pinked slightly, giving him a furious glare. “No! You’re just like a lost puppy without me around, so I thought I’d be nice and make a spot for you, and you’d come down, and then we could have lunch an-” He laughed lightly, earning another glare, although it was far weaker than the first. “Oh shut up! Just set up your damn hammock, Martin! I have work to do!” She stomped back towards the Deadra, pausing mid-step to glance back at the still smiling battery officer. “…and get that grin off your face before I smack it off.”

“You’ve got it.” His smile didn’t falter, and despite herself, the pilot had a matching one as she returned to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The entrance to the gym hissed open, revealing Charlie with Vala in tow to the occupants. In what seemed to be their typical fashion, the Commander noted, the commandos had seemingly taken the entire facility for themselves for the time being; not a single marine present amongst them. As the first few faces turned, Charlie cleared his throat and shouted over the din. “Officer on deck!”

Regardless of task, each commando stepped swiftly into a salute, some leaping off their treadmills to do so. None of them moved an inch once the stance was assumed, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the show of respect for a few seconds longer than necessary. It might have been her ego talking, but it was a welcome change from two months of being treated like dirt. “As you were!” She called, and as quickly as they’d stopped, the Hounds were right back at their training; easily chatting amongst each other as they went about their various work outs.

To her right, Charlie whistled towards the lone solitary figure in the room, who perked up ever so slightly at the sound. The woman turned, a gentle smile stretched across her soft, rounded face. She crossed the room quickly towards her superior; the auburn braid hung round her shoulder swaying with each step as pure golden eyes regarded the pair. Once close, she gave them both a respectful nod before speaking. “You called, Charlie?”

The commando leader nodded, gesturing to Vala with a hand. “Indeed I did. I want to properly introduce the unit to Commander Buchan before we have any further ops, and you are the best starting point.” Looking to Vala, he grinned lopsidedly. “This is Staff Lieutenant Heather Driskel. I may lead the Hounds, but for all intents and purposes, she pretty much runs them. Any questions you have about the unit, or any concerns about any of the operatives, she’s the woman to go to.” He snickered. “She’s also the only dog I’ve got trained to respond to a whistle.”

Heather’s smile didn’t falter for a moment, replying without a moment’s pause. “I could only hope they were calls for attention, since a cat call doesn’t suit a hound, hm?” The lieutenant looked to Vala properly, offering a hand for a polite shake. Vala took it quickly, noting the woman’s gentle grip. “It’s a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance. As Charlie said, I handle most of the day-to-day business involving the Hounds. Please, don’t hesitate to ask me any questions if they arise.”

Vala tapped her cheek once in thought. “Well, I am curious about one thing…why did you send two? It seems excessive for a simple armour delivery.” Heather glanced at Charlie, seemingly surprised by the question but she answered all the same.

“It’s how they operate, Ma’am.” She turned, motioning over to a pair of the commandos chatting. “We never accept a single recruit for the unit, we always take pairs. After a few training missions, they’re assigned to each other. From their training to schedules and even their missions, a pair is stuck together.” Her smile widened ever so slightly, like a parent taking pride in their children. “It makes them quite the team, and highly effective in the field.”

Vala followed her gaze with some incredulity, speaking bluntly. “I’ve never heard of that before. Seems counter-productive to make a commando dependant on another.” Her eyes flicked up to Charlie. “Your idea, I assume?”

He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Not exactly. I actually took the idea from asari huntresses, if you can believe it. I was assigned to a sabotage operation a little while before I made the Hounds, and got intercepted by a pair of asari. It was incredible, watching two lone huntresses so expertly juggle the entire raid team and lead them all on a wild goose chase. They moved and reacted to each other faster than I thought possible…”

Scratching his chin, Charlie shook his head slowly. “It was the day that I started to believe that turian saying. ‘The asari are the finest warriors in the galaxy. Fortunately there aren’t many of them.’” After a pause, he laughed. “So, I stole it for myself.”

“I see…” She looked back to Heather, pausing as she noticed a trend. Glancing towards another pair of the commandos, Vala tilted her head slightly to view their eyes. Which were the same solid gold. She turned slightly, scanning the various faces for a moment. “…are all your eyes tattooed?”

Heather nodded. “Good eye. It’s something of a little ritual for the recruits. Once they’re partnered up, they get the retinal tattoo that makes their eyes look like ours. Charlie is the only one without it because he’s afraid of needles.” He scoffed.

“I have to actually look presentable for the higher ups.”

She giggled. “Right…and you’re afraid of needles.” Sighing, he waved her off, clearly knowing a hopeless battle when he saw one. Heather looked back to Vala and continued her explanation. “It was an idea from another member of ours, to increase the solidarity of the unit. A bond with our partner is good, but all the hounds view each other as a sort of second family.”

“Complete with it’s own crazy traditions?”

“Something like that. Oh, we should introduce you to Sorin. He’s the primary trainer for all the pairs.” She placed a finger on her lip for a moment, brow creasing ever so slightly. “Although, he’s been in something of a mood today…”

Vala raised an eyebrow while Charlie snickered. “Sorin is always in a mood, Heather. He’ll behave.” Stepping past the women, he moved towards the small ring set up in the corner of the gym. Inside the ring, a lone figure stood, flexing a pair of sparring gloves on his hands. As the light revealed more of his features, Vala immediately noticed the pale, tarnished glaze over the right eye. Dozens of micro scars surrounded the blinded eye, as well as an imposing tattoo of a fanged grin that dominated the side of his face. Before she could really examine it, his head jerked over quickly to regard them, as if he‘d heard their approach over the din. His remaining eye was the same solid gold as the others, although it lacked the mirth she’d seen amidst the commandos prior to him.

Heather, seemingly aware of something Vala wasn’t, moved a few steps ahead of her, climbing up into the ring with who she assumed was Sorin. The two were an interesting contrast to each other, she immediately noted, the rich dark brown of his complexion a sharp contrast to her olive white. They exchanged hushed words as she approached, and the man eased back on his heels as she reached the ring with Charlie. “Commander Buchan.” He grunted, voice hard and hollow.

“Yes, that’s me. You would be Sorin?”

“1st Lieutenant Sorin Malcoms. I keep the Hounds from being useless, Ma’am.” His tone was curt, and she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly his issue was. “If you need anything improved, I figure I’m the one you should talk to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant.” She spared only a split second glance to Charlie, who seemed slightly exasperated at Sorin’s attitude, but made no comments. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Sorin tilted his head slightly upwards, showing more of the jaw tattoo as he did so. “No. I’m just not one for chit-chat. That’s Heather’s department.” Heather elbowed him sharply in the ribs, but the trainer didn’t even react to the hit, staring down at Vala with his one good eye.

As she looked at the two up in the ring, a thought occurred to her and she quickly voiced it. “Should I assume you two are a combat pair, since you both lead?” Heather stiffened in the ring, while Charlie muttered an ‘oh boy’ underneath his breath. “What?”

Sorin’s expression darkened; eye flicking to Charlie suddenly and glaring accusingly at the man. “You didn’t tell her.” Heather opened her mouth, but the trainer stifled her with sharp intake of breath. “Fine then.”

“Introductions isn’t the best time you know, Sorin.” Charlie commented, clearly not bothered by the sudden anger in his subordinate.

“Sure they are.” He stepped through the ropes and dropped down to the floor. “Charlie and Heather forgot to mention something important about the three of us. We’re the Old Dogs of the unit.” He stepped up to her, holding up a finger for silence when she opened her mouth. “Before you even ask, Commander, it means the three of us don’t have partners.”

“Don’t all of you have to have partners?”

“We get one. One partner. That’s it.” The gym had fallen silent as the hounds wizened to the scene playing out in the corner. “No. Heather isn’t my partner, and I’d appreciate you don’t make any assumptions about something you don’t unde-”

“Alright,” Charlie snapped, stepping between him and Vala. “That’s about enough. She didn’t know, and even then, Buchan is the boss. That means you show some respect.” The trainer narrowed his eyes, but Charlie didn’t let him get a word in. “Not up for discussion.”

His mouth opened and shut several times before his eye fell to the floor. “I apologize, Commander.” Part of Vala simply wanted to strike the man across the face, or take his ear off herself for a few minutes for showing such insubordination. And yet, another part quietly reasoned that she had struck a nerve, clearly a sore one. She’d have likely done the same, hell, she HAD done the same in the past.

The commander nodded. “It’s fine, Lieutenant Malcoms. We all have our own demons, and I didn’t mean to stir yours. If you’ll ignore my faux pas, then perhaps we can leave this behind us.” It was far more diplomatic than they’d expected her to be, and if she’d had access to a mirror, Vala would have seen a similar expression on her own face.

Sorin inclined his head. “Of course, Ma’am…” As quickly as his apology had come, the man snapped back into his personality from before, barking loudly at the commandos. “I didn’t give you bastards permission to gawk! Get back to work, or it’ll be suicides instead of dinner tonight!”

With a collective groan and a few grumbling ‘yes sirs’, the gym returned to it’s previous noise level. Sorin gave a lazy salute as he brushed past her, clearly wanting to bury himself in work for the moment. Heather took a seat on the lip of the ring with a sigh. “I told you he was in a mood…”

Charlie scratched awkwardly at his neck. “I’ll trust your women’s intuition next time…sorry about that, Commander. Sorin is a bit of a…handful some days. He’s good though. No one else I’d trust with whipping these lightweights into proper shape.” She nodded idly, clearly distracted as she watched the man work. “Something on your mind?”

“Only one partner?”

Heather diverted her gaze from Vala’s inquisitive stare but Charlie instead held it with a sombre expression. “Yeah, just one. Hounds don’t come home alone.” The statement hung in the air as he searched for words. “…they bond heavily in training. It’s kinda impossible not to. We don’t define what they have to view each other as, but the relationship is always…close. So, when one half…bites the bullet, and the other doesn’t…it’s like losing a sibling.”

“Oh.”

“I tried in the past to get new partners but…things linger. It just dug up more wounds, so I changed the plan. If one survives, they can either retire from the unit, or help me run things, as one of the ‘Old Dogs’.” He glanced over his shoulder at Heather. “Out of everyone, only Heather and Sorin wanted to stay on.”

“He certainly doesn’t look like he wants to be here…” She noted, earning a slight chuckle from the two. “What?”

“That’s just how he is. Always. Leave him to yell at everyone, and you’ll get along fine.” The man in question roved between the hounds, constantly watching, constantly tossing out criticisms and improvements for all of them. She watched him out of curiosity, lingering on the oddity he was for longer than she perhaps should have, before partially looking to Charlie.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Brushing a few fingers across her forehead, Vala made a few mental notes on what she’d been told, even as she continued to scan the assembled commandos. It didn’t take long to begin seeing the pairs, as they shifted between stations and exercises, only two in each ‘group’ would remain with each other. It was an odd system, but she was eager to see the results of such rigid policy. “Well, I trust that you three will be more than capable of keeping the Hounds running properly. If there’s anything you need…”

“We’ll take care of it.” Heather smiled, earning a similar one from the commander herself. “I’ll only trouble you with them if it’s necessary, Ma’am.” The woman was clearly used to the task, and was obviously well suited for it with her seemingly maternal nature. “All I ask is you don’t run them completely ragged.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I don’t get to call those shots.” She shot Charlie a dry look. “Although that should be changing here very shortly, hm?” He grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck awkwardly under her sharp gaze before the commander continued. “But, I think that’s enough for today. I have a report to file, and we should be safe to leave the Citadel.”

The ‘Old Dogs’ nodded, following her to the door and offering polite salutes as she set off to handle her tasks for the day. The pair watched Vala’s back until she disappeared around a corner; only then did Heather speak up. “Odd.”

“What’s that?”

“Dozens of things, really…she‘s young but leading a vessel chief among them. I’m not really sure if she can handle it…” He fixed her with a quizzical glance, and she continued lightly. “I don’t mean much by it. It’s a lot of responsibility, and not everyone is equipped to handle it. I’m just worried she might not be.”

Charlie blinked once, before looking out into the hallway. “Would she really have a ship if she couldn‘t handle it?” The pair exchanged curious glances, before the Lieutenant simply shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “Doing wonders for my confidence, Heather.”

“My job is support, not soothing your destructive curiosity. Doesn’t hurt to keep an eye on things, does it?”

“Isn‘t there an old saying about cats and curiosity? Something involving dying?”

“Good thing you’re a dog then, Charlie.” Heather patted his shoulder with a smile; promptly turning on her heel and trotting off towards the furious barking of Sorin’s instructions. The commando chuckled humourlessly to himself, before glancing off down the hall. “Besides,” She called over her shoulder. “Isn't the assignment to help?”