A/N: Welcome to The Kiss of the Moon, our next journey into the world of Mass Effect. This is not a sequel to Sparks; it may be in the same world, but it's not about Legion or Shepard. This is a story about Kal'Reegar, our favorite quarian soldier. It's going to be a little more gritty than Sparks, because I find Kal to be a more gritty, down-to-earth character. And yes, I did write "supernatural" for the genre... You'll just have to wait and see. Also, there will be romance. Of course.

I'm still working on Sparks at the time of this writing, and that means that regular updates on this story won't commence for a while still. So, consider this a preview of what is to come.

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Disclaimer: All characters, for better or for worse, belong to Bioware.

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The Kiss of the Moon

Chapter One

Kal'reegar shakes out his silvery shoulder-length hair and lets loose a sigh of gratification. The glass embrace of his helmet is protection, shielding him from the millions of deadly contagions of the outside world, but at times it becomes claustrophobic and oppressive. The manufactured sterility of the ship's clean room is a blessing at times like this. An artificial comfort.

Kal rolls his head around, reveling in the freedom of movement. He massages his shoulders and sighs again, closing his eyes. The ship he's on now, the Ierra, is a small frigate, tiny by Migrant Fleet standards. Two weeks ago a ship went dark in this sector while hunting for resources. Suspecting pirate activity, the admiralty sent a group of marines to investigate.

Search and destroy. Kal's lips twist into a smile. Perfect.

Then, just at the edge of his perception, something flickers. It's the smallest nudge, an almost nonexistent prickle at the back of his neck, but Kal's been on enough battle fields to know it for what it is. To ignore your instincts is to pass up a chance at survival. He pretends not to notice the feeling, picking up his helmet with calculated carelessness and reattaching the seals. The prickle intensifies, and now Kal can almost feel the outline of the body behind him. He presses in his visor, the pressure locks closing with a slight hiss. A boot scrapes on the metal floor.

Kal doesn't go for his gun. Instead he spins around, and as the helmeted figure behind him yelps in surprise, Kal chops him across the throat with the edge of his hand. His would-be attacker, a human, stumbles back, clutching his throat. Kal bends fluidly and sidekicks him in the chest. The human falls awkwardly to the deck, the knife in his hand dropping with a clatter. Going in for a stealth kill, thinks Kal as he jumps forward, mounting the human's chest. He takes a firm hold in the human's helmet, ignoring the flailing arms, and gives it a savage twist. The human's neck cracks audibly, and his arms drop to his sides.

Stupid. Had me in his sights, shoulda' just shot me. Kal stands up, picking up his assailant's weapon and twirling it between his fingers. Tryin' to get bragging rights, a little Quarian blood on his blade. Like this is some kind of game. Stupid. He looks up from the blade, gripping the hilt firmly. How'd he get in here, anyway? The answer stares him straight in the face. The clean room door is wide open, giving a clear view to the corridor outside. Kal frowns. Even if he hacked the lock, the decontamination cycle... Unless...

Kal stands still for a moment. Then he swears under his breath and dashes out of the room, leaving the dead human on the deck behind him.

…

Kal runs through the halls of the ship, making his way to the bridge. Booms echo through the ship, like thunder drumming on the walls. He passes doorway after doorway, open with the locks deactivated. The ship shakes, but no alarms sound. Shit! He runs on, sliding to a stop outside the portal to the bridge. The door is retracted, but the passageway has been jammed full of various flotsam, forming a rudimentary barricade. Kal tries to peer over the top, but his view is blocked by a supply crate. "Hey!" he yells. "Anybody back there?"

"Kal!" A male voice comes from the other side, higher pitched and more heavily accented than his own. "Is that you?"

"Breil? The hell is going on here?"

"Quiet, quiet!" says the voice hurriedly. A chair moves aside, and a pale visor appears in the gap. The Quarian reaches an arm through the barricade to Kal. "Come on, quickly! It's not safe out there!"

"No shit," mutters Kal. He accepts the proffered appendage, pulling himself through the gap in the barricade. Crates slide under his feet, bouncing loudly on the deck, but he manages to land on his feet. Kal looks around the bridge. Five Quarians stand around him, weapons drawn, in various states of alarm. The control banks are dark, haptic interfaces deactivated. Suddenly something shifts in the bridge's viewport, and Kal realizes what he's seeing. The stars are blotted out by the tail end of a ship, enormous and incredibly close. As he watches blue lights flicker, thrusters turning the ship's bulk slightly. The bridge's deck shakes as the thunder sounds again. The face of the pirate ship lights up briefly.

Kal rounds on Briel. "Mind telling me what's going on here?"

The other Quarian backs away slightly. "Uh, it's a—an attack! Pirates-"

"I can see that!" Kal growls. "What's with our systems? Are we flying dark here?"

"N—no! They hit us, gauss or ion cannon or something! Life support is still functional on emergency power, but it's going fast!"

"Weapons systems?"

"What do you think?" asks Briel, rallying. He shrinks back under Kal's glare. "We, ah, barricaded the bridge, and sent a distress signal, because the beacon's still working, ah..."

Kal turns away, spinning his knife again. Briel watches the blade, entranced. "So we're just gonna sit here until help arrives," says Kal without turning. "You think we're gonna survive until then? And what about everyone else? There are twelve marines on this ship. I'm not sitting comfy up here while they could be dying!"

"Kal'reegar, I am, in fact, the commanding officer here," says Briel. "Therefor, despite what you seem to think, I am in charge."

Kal shakes his head, striding to the doorway on the other side of the bridge. "You can do what you like. I'm saving our men." He kicks at the barricade, sending furniture and boxes tumbling. "Come with me if you want, but I'm going."

With a glance at Briel, the two marines set off after Kal.

"Kal! Kal!" Briel looks around the bridge in desperation. He is alone, except for the unarmed pilot. Briel gestures helplessly at him. "You stay here. Do... I don't know, do something!" With that, he rushes away after the marines.

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The second hallway leading off of the bridge is lined with windows, ultra-thick multi-layered glass showing a panoramic view of the void. The view is dominated by the hulking pirate vessel. From what Kal can see, it's a modified cargo ship, bristling with tacked-on cannons and shield relays.

The group unconsciously slows as they pass the viewports, staring at the monstrous craft.

One of the marines gives a low whistle. "She's an ugly motherfucker, ain't she?"

Kal nods agreement. He tares his eyes away from the view, focusing on the objective. Kill the pirates. Save the Quarians. Right.

Suddenly a voice bounces down the hallway from the way they came. "Hey!"

Kal looks back in alarm, then narrows his eyes as Briel comes into view around the corner. "I told you..." he warns.

"No, no," says Briel. He slows to a walk, catching his breath. "I'm coming with you."

Kal opens his mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but he's cut off by the sound of gunfire. Without thinking, he shoves Briel down, both of them hitting the deck behind a bulkhead. Kal looks around. The rest of the marines are taking cover too, except one man lying face down in the middle of the hall. Kal peeks over the top of the bulkhead. A human stands there, firing wildly from the hip. Shots ricochet around the confined space, buzzing like deadly hornets. Idiot! Probably hit him by accident! Kal waits for the human to empty his clip. As soon as the shots stop, he darts out from his cover keeping low to the ground. The human is looking down, fumbling with his gun as he reloads. Kal's hand whips out, throwing the knife with deadly accuracy. The blade penetrates the man's suit, sinking into his neck with a meaty thunk. Blood sprays from the wound, and the man falls.

Kal reaches the downed Quarian, and hoisting him up by his armpits, drags him back into cover. He lays the injured marine down next to Briel, who looks on silently, hands shaking. Three holes are punched through the man's suit, in a neat diagonal line along his stomach. The fabric is already soaked. The marine moans weakly, tries to speak. Kal shakes his head, triggering an application of medi-gel from his omni tool. If reinforcements get here in time, there's a chance he might live.

Kal stands up. A helmeted head peering around the corner catches sight of him, and quickly pulls back. Kal crouches down again, signaling to the remaining marines. They train their rifles on the door, waiting for a human head to reappear.

Next to him, Briel is still sitting transfixed, staring at the bleeding soldier.

Kal grabs his shoulder roughly. "Hey!"

Briel turns toward him slowly. "Yes?" he says in a far-away voice.

Kal shakes his head in exasperation. "Give me that," he says, taking the pistol out of Briel's unprotesting hands. He checks the clip. At least it's loaded. He turns back to Briel. "Just keep your head down, okay?"

The other Quarian nods, wide-eyed.

Kal motions to the injured marine. "And keep pressure on that wound. We'll head down to pick up the rest of the crew and meet you back up here." He hazards another look around the bulkhead. Why isn't anyone shooting?

As if in answer to his question, a volley of bullets flies towards them from down the hallway. The marines duck back under cover, and a human steps out from around the corner. He levels a rifle at the Quarians. Things happen fast.

There's a flash of light and a deafening thunderclap. Kal feels his feet being dragged away from him, reaches out a hand in a desperate attempt to grab onto something, anything, and then his boots leave the deck and he's tumbling up and away. A chilling, sucking cold envelopes him, sound bleeding away into the black. He spins, without control, and catches sight of the shattered viewport in the center of a giant scorch mark on the ship's surface. He reaches for it, almost out of reflex, and then a steel panel slams down over the glass and he spins away.

The world is silent except for the whoosh of Kal's own breathing in his ears. In. Out. He blinks. Lights sparkle. A flash of green. A gout of fire from a ship's hull. Debris spiraling off into nowhere. Not a ship, my ship! Kal tries to turn his head, but he's powerless against his own inertia. Think, dammit! Think or you're dead. He tries to remember the number. It's drilled into all the recruits, the worst-case scenario for a marine. Thirty seconds. You get thirty seconds of air. How much is left?

The hull of the Ierra passes out of his slowly revolving view, replaced with the dull brown expanse of the pirate vessel. And between them, growing nearer, the boarding tube extends like an enormous mechanical phallus, violating the smaller ship.

Kal tries to move again, but his arms flail without traction. I'm going in about the right direction. As long as the air holds out... Kal's spin takes him around to face the tube again. Gotta be forty meters. Come on...

He takes in a deep breath, forcing as much oxygen as he can into his lungs. Thirty meters. Twenty five. Kal suddenly remembers the pistol in his hand. He aims approximately, squeezes the trigger twice. The gun kicks against his palm, and he feels the added thrust pushing him faster towards the tube. He fires again, spinning wildly, and as the tube comes around again Kal grabs a fold of the vacuum-sealed lining and empties the rest of the clip into the fabric. It tears, hissing air, and Kal lets go of the pistol and pulls himself inside.

His pulse pounding like artillery fire in his ears, lungs screaming for air, Kal climbs hand over hand down the empty tunnel. The edges of his vision dim, focusing on the glowing green square at the end of the corridor. Kal forces his lips together, ignoring his pleading lungs. The door floats closer in his vision, impossibly slowly. The light seems to bleed out of the corridor, an eternity between the last handhold and the surface of the door. Finally it's within reach, and Kal brushes his omni-tool against the lock, and hauls himself into the airlock with the last of his strength.

The floor lurches sickeningly as the ship's artificial gravity takes hold of him. Kal looses his feet. The deck presses against his side and he clamps his knees against his chest, all the will he possesses desperately keeping in the breath, even as the darkness fades across his eyes.

And then the hiss of the cabin's vents subsides. Kal lets go, gasping, and as his lungs gorge themselves the world springs back into vivid detail around him. He closes his eyes, making himself take in measured breaths through his nose, letting them out slowly from his mouth. Praise Keelah it wasn't locked. It could have been—no. Don't think about that.

Kal's heart begins to slow down. He pushes himself up. Save the Ierra. Right. One thing at a time. He looks around. A single door is set in the opposite wall, its access panel a cheerful green.

No time to plan. Just go. Kal strides to the door and swipes it open with his omni-tool. The door pulls back into its frame with a swish. Beyond it lies a landing and a set of stairs, and on the landing a startled Human pirate, clearly not expecting company.

Kal steps forward without giving the man time to think and kicks him hard, his armored shin connecting with the human's not-so-armored groin. The man drops almost comically, straight down to the deck. Kal pins his head with his boot, snatching up the man's rifle. The pirate doesn't even struggle as Kal sights quickly and fires twice. The kick hits his shoulder hard, along with the gun's echoing blast and the crunch of shattered armor. Kal kicks the corpse away and jogs up the stairs. Get into the bridge. If this is was cargo ship once, then all the important stuff'l be clustered up at the front. It won't take long.

The stairs end in another portal, also unlocked. Must be my lucky day, thinks Kal wryly. He opens the door. Shit!

It's not the bridge. The hallway ends abruptly, turning into a vertical shaft with a ladder running up it.

Kal turns away, cursing the wasted time. There must have been another door. Then he stops, hand halfway to the door. Wait... Kal turns back to the ladder, practicably leaping up the rungs. The top of the ladder is ringed by a ledge, and Kal sees exactly what he's looking for.

A clear dome covers the tiny room, which is filled by an empty seat and set of controls. A gunnery turret! Kal drops the pirate's rifle and slips into the chair. The console is simple, a yoke and a set of triggers. Kal wraps his three-fingered hands around the control sticks, craning his neck back. The glass, fortified with strips of steel, shows two canons thrusting out side by side from the ship below him. He tilts the yoke and feels the turret turn, and then he almost gasps as the Ierra comes into view. Fires burn sporadicly on its hull, feeding on internal gases, flames licking at the void. Large sections of her hull are burnt, marking heavy blast points. As he watches, the viewport flashes and another shot crashes silently into her wounded body. Kal bares his teeth, fingers tightening on the trigger. Hang in there. I'm working on it!

He gives the yoke another experimental jerk, and the turret swivels again. The side of the pirate cruiser's hull stretches before him, dotted with canon banks. These ones are automatic, without pilots in them. The actual ship doesn't go too far back. Most of that is cargo hold. Kal thinks for a second, then smiles. And engines. And reactor core! He squeezes the triggers, one cannon flashing and pulling back under its recoil, then the other. The canons along the hull burst like grenades, debris spiraling away from the ship. He looks for more targets, but the range of movement on the turret is too small.

Kal feels a sudden urge, the battle-lust, stealing over him. It rolls in like a fog from the back of his mind, covering up everything he doesn't need. Reason and self-preservation become muted, far away, and his grin stretches wider as he pulls the canon barrels down as far as they will go, aiming at the hull of the ship. His mind watches without any chance of stopping him as his body pulls the triggers, fingers clamping down and pressing them into their frames. The canons shudder, spouting yellow light, and the hull a hundred meters away sprays fire and sparks. Metal fragments fly, the armor plating cracking and buckling under the pounding of the guns. Kal swivels the turret slowly, carving a burning canyon across the ship.

The guns fire again and again, and with each shot the gouge grows deeper. Metal beams and support struts snap out like broken bones, gas erupting in pillars of rosy fire, and the entire ship shudders. An alarm starts wailing somewhere, but Kal barely hears it. His senses are far away, his every faculty focused on doing as much destruction as possible. He loses track of time, the blasts of the guns blending together, glass of the viewport painted with a scene of silent carnage.

The ship lurches suddenly, throwing Kal out of his seat. He hits the deck on his elbows, rolling up against the wall as the ground tilts. A terrible noise crash pounds in his ears, metal screams in agony, and then a colossal boom hurls him onto his back. Kal pulls himself to his feet, clinging onto the back of the chair, and stares out the viewport.

A massive wall of torn metal fills the window. Fires burn, and sparking, twisted metal, the ship's bent ribs, jut out at odd angles. Kal realizes the aft end of the ship is breaking away. It hangs on against the force of the engines, mass effect fields trying desperately to compensate. Klaxons blare, adding to the din, and Kal hears shouts from below. He pulls away from the view, dropping down the ladder and hitting the bottom heavily. He staggers, steadies himself on the wall. The door opens, and a human stares at him from the other side. The noise of sirens doubles, and Kal hears more shouting from behind the pirate. He tries to think of something to do or say, and then he and the human are both lifted off their feet. The explosion throws him clear through the door, back into the stairwell. His back hits the wall and his breath leaves him in a whoosh, and then suddenly he's floating.

Kal pushes off from the wall, barely registering the loss of gravity as he drifts to the bottom of the stairs. A door opens, and he pushes past the pirate and propels himself off the ceiling and down the hallway. It turns and he moves around the corner, finding himself in a large circular room. The walls are lined with computers, and humans strapped to chairs shout back and forth to each other, not seeming to notice the floating quarian in their midst. Kal looks up to the viewport dominating one side of the room. What he sees takes his breath away.

The massive blue-green face of the planet below looms ahead of them. Clouds swim lazily across its surface, and Kal realizes with a sluggish sort of panic that it's far too close. The ship is no longer in orbit around the planet: It's on a direct collision course. The ship begins to shake violently, untethered objects flying around the cabin. Feathery tongues of flame wrap around the viewscreen, blurring the view and casting the cabin in a deep red light. A body floats by, waving franticly, and the whole room starts to spin. The shaking intensifies, rattling Kal to his bones, and in the midst of the flying chaos something strikes him in the side of the head and in a sudden white flash the world goes dark.