With Pride and Blood 6 (Patreon)

With Pride and Blood 6 - or ‘Time to make Humanity the Greatest Ever, at the Expense of some scum from outer space!’ (Mass Effect, Senator Armstrong!SI)

It would be odd to say this for someone like him but…

Nihlus Kryik, 16 years-old Turian, liked Earth.

The notion that a Turian as young as he was could have been welcomed into this planet was something of a mystery and the source of some outrage back home but, really, what choice did he get from his peers after being rejected for something out of his control?

Still, Nihlus knew that such a circumstance demanded context, for he refused to be branded a traitor. It all started back when the news of his father’s death in Shanxi had reached back home.

His mother had been heartbroken and desperate. The former because of the love Nihlus’ parents shared with one another, and the latter born from a pragmatic issue- they now lacked a way to sustain their livelihood, despite how precarious it currently was.

Hence why, ignoring the many warnings that Nihlus had told his mother about in regard to this idea, she pushed him to join the military. This was… close to a death warrant.

The moment he asked to be recruited by the Hierarchy was when he was met with a hefty amount of scrutiny through messages. And then, an outright rejection with a statement of ‘dishonor against his father’.

The conflict had tarnished the honor of most of those involved, and the end result was that families lost prestige within the Hierarchy and out of it. The chances of being admitted in the military as someone that was born and had lived outside Hierarchy’s spaces were already slim, but this proved to be the ultimate hurdle.

Unbreakable, and no amount of favors from family’s friends could overturn it.

So, Nihlus was stuck in a rather bad spot. His mother grew disillusioned with him and had left a few days after the rejection, saying that it was time for him to find his ‘space in life’, and the opportunities of work within the garrison he lived in were non-existing.

He had to find a way out of this. And ‘Clever Nihlus’ was never one to take a defeat with a bad mood. Oh no, he had always found this a ‘fun’ reason to turn his attention elsewhere. If conventional methods of finding work or education entailed delving into illegality, then he was going to invest in ‘unconventional methods’.

Specifically, the very individuals that had tarnished his father’s reputation- the humans.

He bore them no hatred. It was war, they had started it and his father had been led to an unpleasant death out of ignorance and incompetence. It was another reason why he had been reluctant to even write that request to the hierarchy, knowing that being accepted would have been hell in future years.

So, Nihlus used those ‘worthless’ favors as his mother had called them and got what he needed through those.

A communicator with a translator with human languages. At the moment it was just ‘English’, but he was assured that humans were keen to use that primarily. Then, he was given a device that would allow him to send a message into the human ‘internet’. The concept was similar to the Extranet, yet it was shaped in a way that only humans could use and was extremely secure in its protections.

The device allowed him to create an ‘email account’ and he had to check the instructions given to him by the ‘family friend’ that gave him the device. He was soon able to acquire the account and then… frown at what he was meant to do next.

He hadn’t thought this far considering no one in Turian’s space knew how Humanity worked in that aspect of their society. He browsed around a bit, surprised by a few curious elements that were missing from the Extranet.

Youtube in particular offered him videos and… Cats behave oddly. It made him amused, and yet he wasn’t sure anything like that existed in the Hierarchy. Same for dogs- pets in general.

It took him two hours to realize he had been binge-watching stuff that wasn’t he came there for. Shaking his head, he finally started to look into the right direction. The Systems’ Alliance had a website and some links on how their recruitment methods worked. And this is where Nihlus frowned at a reasonable issue he couldn’t fault them for.

Confirmation of Enlistment has to happen in person. And he was quite sure he was currently a ‘persona non grata’ by the definition of the term depicted in human dictionaries. Thinking some more about it, the Turian realized that there was an option that was without a cost, but that could as well cause issues with the rest of his species if it backfired.

At this current status, this was not an issue to him. Not at all. He was close to running out of credits, his food supply was diminishing and he was on a time limit. So, Nihlus decided to compose a message, similar to the one he sent to the hierarchy, but adding a few lines of it. Questions he had after being witness to a clandestine airing of a speech made by President Armstrong.

His words carried a strange weight that no literary piece or ancient speech of his own race could grasp. The push forward, the momentum and then… the interest. The glee, the gloating, the boasting and the sense of superiority that felt less arrogant and more born through confidence.

The email was sent, and Nihlus waited.

…

A few hours after that, he was given a response. The President had read it, he found it ‘funny’, but not in a derogatory manner. He mentioned it to be ‘the essence of a young patriot that couldn’t fully tap in his potential’ and ‘requested to speak with him personally’.

The notion was absurd but… Nihlus accepted it. There was a high chance of it being a trap. He could have been a mercenary- no, he could have not. He just didn’t have that attitude, the ‘guts’ to be a horrible person.

So, he used most of his remaining credits to buy a small ship and moved into the coordinates offered by the email. A few days later, that tense meeting with an Alliance’s ship had left his mind.

He had been taken in, checked by security, some of his food taken to ‘provide’ proper accommodation and he was surprised when, in the trip to reach the ‘New White House’, he had been given new food. Some of which were Earth’s recipes that had been prepared with Turian's biology in mind. In four hours, humans had been able to provide him with the right kind of food and ingredients to have a safe meal.

Nihlus’ assumption of this being a trap was, at this point, in the trash bin. The food was even better than what he had back at the outpost. And the services offered, that at first felt like a limited luxury, turned out to be the common standard.

The city where this ‘White House’ was located was devoid of slums. Earth was, surprisingly so, devoid of any sight of poverty and homelessness. It was less strict hierarchically but it was clearly in a better shape than Palaven.

And then he was subjected to… ‘unconscious intimidation’.

President Armstrong was far bigger than the speech had displayed him to be. Taller than most men- stronger, actually. He wore glasses and had an air of brutish intelligence that left Nihlus… nervous. And while the president was kind and jovial to him, respecting him for ‘the hardships he was born with’, he still pressured him on something he never thought of dealing with.

“And what is your reason to join the military?” The tall human asked, cigar puffing by his right hand’s fingers as he stared at him. “After all, you’re young and can learn something else. Be a civilian and still make the difference.”

Indeed, if given the opportunity to be something else- away from falling like his father had, why would Nihlus still want to invest himself in this?

“I… I want to fight.”

“Why?”

Why is it so difficult!?

“I want to make myself worthy. It’s the only way I knew-”

“As I said, young lad- that’s no longer the case if you so decide,” Armstrong remarked, cigar back to his lips. “You are clay, a piece of malleable material that can be shaped however you wish to or you want others to shape you to be. Knowledge, Training and Experience. Books, Exercise and Life. But what defines you is a purpose. What is your purpose, Nihlus?”

…

“I suppose you never thought that far.”

“I…” He paused, knowing that it would be awkward to say, but he could tell the President was onto him. “Yes.”

He snorted with mirth, then… nodded. “It’s a fair issue. Not everyone knows what they want from life. Some want a peaceful life, some want a chaotic one. Some want a safe existence, others find the thrill of danger worthy of putting their lives on the line. And then there’s those that want to protect the freedom they got. They felt indebted to it as much as they are willing to die for it.”

He leaned back on his chair.

“Men will fight for reasons they don’t understand, ‘cause they don’t believe in them. And for a time, I thought that a few individuals would have led the charge into a new world worthy of being called the home of mankind,” Armstrong continued to explain, setting his cigar down. “But you see, Nihlus, the truth is that everyone is blessed by that destiny- those that can change it by the power of will and might. It’s already there, the fuel. You just need to know how to make the spark and where to let it detonate.”

“Like a bomb,” The Turian hummed. “Destructive but… only if used in a specific manner.”

“Correct!” The President grinned as he said this. “You have the potential of making something grand, but for it to be helpful to you, lasting to you, to be a great or horrible thing is… bound to your own consciousness.”

“Consciousness?”

“We live in an existence where people can be bound by indoctrination or be set free. Collective Consciousness against Free Will. Each has its merits for different reasons, but Freedom has a special place in my heart for a simple reason- it’s where the best and the worst of people came from. The purest result of a wonderfully imperfect existence. Weeding the worst out is then trusted in people that have experience and will and loyalty to the cause to keep it safe for others.”

…

“I never had many freedoms. Would this… be the same, even if I wasn’t in the army?”

“It’s your right as a new citizen. If you keep following the law, you will be guaranteed a right to a proper life with all the services all citizens get, a right to be safe from dangers, a right to be happy. This is the Systems’ Alliance at its core for its citizens. Freedom, Progress, Prosperity and Patriotism.”

“...I am not sure I can just claim it for myself.”

“Then how about we make a deal?” Armstrong suggested. “You get some training. Self-defense is still a way to learn more about yourself, and, in a few months from now, we talk about this once more.”

“And… then?”

“If you still want to fight, then you can keep doing it. If you don’t, you can pursue another job.”

That was simple. And yet-

“By the way, training will be hell.”

He didn’t believe him, and Nihlus was quite annoyed he didn’t. The drill sergeant he got was unforgiving and the other cadets were equally wrecked by the exercises but… it was a start. And Earth was lovely. He liked the scenery and the people there.

Some were still distrustful, but if there is something Nihlus was good at was making friends from enemies. And in due time, he hoped, this was going to be how people were going to see him.

A young patriot.

—-----------d-d-d-d—---

AN

And thus Armstrong adopts someone that would have become one of the best Specters.