The Ash Tree: Chapter 2

7.22.2008

Chapter 2 - Preview

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Auron lay very still, knowing that if she moved, Saren would see her. She could feel the fires of Citadel Tower licking its tongue on her arm, her chest, and her entire face. The pain of it was searing, but it was dwarfed by the throbbing between her shoulder blades and stomach. Auron did not look for Saren. She lay with her eyes closed, using all of her strength to not cry out, or the effort would be for nothing. Her body began to shake. Almost as suddenly as they came, the fires died. At first, it was some sort of heaven, but then a terrible cold set over her, chilling her bones and freezing the sweat on her skin. Noveria. Cold, empty, lifeless. If anything, the cold was worse than the fire. She screamed.

Auron struggled to sit up, opening her eyes. She was in a room of some familiarity, laying on a bed right beside a desk. The walls were blue, and weak light from the artificial ones from above almost blinded her. Her hand reached for the pistil on her thigh, but there was none. Her heart skipped a beat, and she glanced around, wild-eyed, for Saren. Sweat dripped down from her forehead and stung her eyes.

There was no turian. No evil wannabe overlord coming to kill her. Her throat was as dry as sandpaper, and sharp, stabbing pains ran themselves through her stomach.

“Dreaming,” she said, aloud. The trembling grew worse. Her body, clothed in a light medical gown, was soaked with sweat, and the air from the above vent felt like a winter blizzard. She curled up on her side in an effort to negate the stomachache by some degree, but the pain only flared sickenly. She had the presence of mind to at least edge her head over the side of the bed before she choked up her last meal, whenever that had been.

“Red?”

Somebody was in the room with her. She blinked her eyes, trying to clear away the fog that had descended, to no avail. Somebody was touching her now, somebody whose hands burned worse than the fire had. She shuddered so violently that the grip slackened, just a bit, but the man continued to push her back down into a laying position. She could offer no resistance, and the man wrapped more blankets around her. The warmth grew. And grew. Sweat bathed her features and dripped from her face.

She saw again the batarian raiders on Mindoir, raiding their home and butchering her family as she hid in a tree half a mile away, and the sight of old Commander Garbold, her mentor and best friend, torn in three separate pieces on the Akuze mission.

Saren returned. This time Auron looked at him, uncaring and unafraid. “Trying to intimidate me, Saren?” she whispered.

“She’s delirious,” Saren said.

“Her fever’s spiked,” said another voice.

Auron drifted into strange dreams. She was floating on a clear lake, on water so cool it soothed the fiery, throbbing pain, save for where the sun beat down on her face and arms. She tried to lower herself further into the sweet liquid, but it was impossible. Aunt Kalandra was there, sitting in a worn-down, creaky metal chair. She realized she was not in a lake at all, but a shallow bath. “I can’t believe you,” Kalandra said. “You told Michael you’d be back five hours ago.”

“Sorry, Kal,” Auron replied. “Dunno where I’ve been… Keep having dreams. About Saren.”

“Is she going to die?” somebody asked Kalandra. Auron couldn’t see the speaker.

Kalandra didn’t answer. She was upgrading her armor. Only it wasn’t armor. It was fire. A ball of fire. “I’m worried, Auron. Michael said your kinetic barriers failed during a raid yesterday but you haven’t fixed them yet. Then you go off on your own, we’re worried sick...” She twitched the ball of fire, and she realized it was supposed to be her armor.

“I don’t want it,” she said, shaking her head fiercely.

“Over your dead body,” Kalandra snapped. “I just finished coating it was some hardening residue. Here, touch.” Kalandra rubbed the fire against her stomach, and she screamed.

Darkness swamped her. When light came again, she found herself looking at the strangest sight. A woman was hovering over her, dark gray hair and a matching jumpsuit, but floating above the old lady’s shoulders were two curious faces. One was a light blue, with wide, slanted cerulean eyes. The other was Caucasian, dark hair with his brow furrowed in what she could only suppose was anger. Both faces shimmered, as if shown over a faulty communication channel. The woman seemed oblivious to the people behind her. “Can you hear me, Commander?”

The face was familiar, but she could not place it in her memory. As she watched, the others’ face twisted into an angry snarl, and her eyes turned red with the indoctrination effect. Auron grit her teeth, fighting a sob. “I killed you,” she moaned. “I killed you!” It had to have been Sovereign. She had thought it was all over when she had fired that final shot in the Citadel Tower, and Saren had erupted in flames. But he was back, with a new, stronger woman at his side. She struggled to get up, curling one hand into a fist and striking out with a feeble biotic attempt to throw her into the wall. She merely stumbled.

One of the faces detached itself from behind her and rushed over. It was the man with the pale skin. “You’re fine, Red, it’s okay,” he whispered, taking her head into his chest. Auron screamed, arms and legs flailing in an attempt to get him off of her.

Her cries were muffled in his chest, but they were heard anyway. She heard a door open somewhere in front of her and to the right. “What’s going on?” She knew this voice. Or at least, she thought she did. It rose in alarm. “What’s happening?” Joker! she tried to yell.

The man smothering her answered. “She can’t recognize us! Stay back, she just tried to hit Chakwas!” His reply was lost with the ringing in her head, something louder than any scream she could possibly make. She struggled for air, but it was like breathing underwater. She stopped flailing her limbs, focusing on getting air to her oxygen-deprived lungs. The man released her, and she could breath again, choking and coughing air back into her bloodstream. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he apologized.

Her limbs slumped in exhaustion, and she drifted off into more dreams.

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End of preview. YES, it will be longer. Trust me!

Labels: fanfiction, Mass Effect

posted by Ashton @ 10:29 AM

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