A Man Out of Time II
"We notified your sister. She will arrive at the Citadel in a few weeks. We explained what we could of your... Injuries, without going into too much detail." Garrus says sympathetically.
"I see... It's probably best she hears it from me anyway... On the bright side, I can use this time to begin therapy." I say with a forced smile.
"That's good... Do they know... Um... Nevermind." Garrus starts to ask but stops.
"Do the docs have any fuckin' clue as ta what happened to me? It's alright ta ask, mate. And the answer is yesn't." I tell him with a faint smile growing in my face as I mess with him.
"Oh, I see, and sorry, I think my communicator missed that. What does that last word you said mean?" Garrus asks, relaxing a little.
"It's a... Colloquialism, I think? It means both yes and no. In this case, the docs figured this Saleon fellow got ahold of some advanced black market tech that allowed'em to splice genomes of various species together and create tailor-made organs and other parts for his... Masterpiece. They called me a Chimera, and a cursory gene screening revealed that I've got Asari, Batarian, Elcor, Human, Krogan, Quarian, Salarian, Turian, Volus, and even Vorcha DNA inside me. What's crazier is somehow that bastard got ahold of Prothean and Rachni DNA!" I exclaim to a flabbergasted Garrus.
"If that's the case, how did you survive such a process, and how are you still alive?" Garrus asks in shock.
"Docs said, it's due to several tailor-made organs regulating everythin' goin' on in here, but they don't know how they work and how to maintain'em. So they put me life expectancy to be either a few weeks or a few centuries. As for how I survived? Well, apparently, I had the fightin' spirit of a krogan before I grew the quad to match." I joke with a smile.
"Pfft-, Sorry. I'm glad you're taking this so well." Garrus says, suppressing a laugh at my previous comment.
"Well, I can either get up an do somethin' about it or wallow in self-pity, and I ain't much of a wallower." I say with enthusiasm.
"That's a commendable attitude to have. How long do they expect your therapy to take?" Garrus asks, stopping his not taking and seeming to be just sitting around enjoying my company.
"The docs tell me about a month, but I plan ta be up on me feet by tomorrow… If I can figure out how ta bend me leg. Seriously, how do ya walk like that?" I ask him, trying to flex my leg forward, but that only makes it go backwards further into the bed.
"Well, I think the same about you humans. You'd think your legs would just collapse like that." Garrus jokes, causing us both to laugh before silence reigns.
"Well, I best be getting back. Criminals don't catch themselves, despite their incompetence." Garrus says as he stands to leave.
"Thank ya for savin' me. It means the world." I tell the young officer who will one day become the man who was one of my favorite characters in the game.
"Just doing my job. Until next time." Garrus says with a smile as he leaves the room.
I spend the next few days getting the hang of my new body. Much to the shock and surprise of the doctors, I'm able to competently walk after two days. They chalk it up to the vorcha DNA forming the necessary neural pathways between my limbs and brain. As well as the salarian DNA affecting my brain in such a way as to add more folds to aid in processing the new information with the vorcha DNA, causing a slight neurogenesis and forming entirely new portions of my brain to handle the overwhelming sensory input I've been dealing with.
Though this gave me several severe seizures, which caused me to code a number of times while in their care, but my redundant krogan organ systems helped to sustain me long enough to allow the vorcha DNA to repair the damage and bring me back up to functionality.
I was a complete mystery to my doctors, who had no clue how even to begin treating me. Because standard treatments for one species would cause terrible and severe reactions, leaving them no choice but to try random experiments just to try and keep me stable.
It wasn't until after the second week that my body seemed to begin self-regulating, and they have begun taking away all the drugs and stopped the exploratory surgeries, and I was declared fit enough to leave.
As a sign of "compassion," though more likely just covering their own asses, the Citadel Bureau of Tourism that me and my friends booked our travel with completely covered my medical expenses.
Though, I didn't just sit on my scally ass the entire time. I spent every waking second I could studying the extranet and everything on it regarding the upcoming video game timeline, and what I discovered left me with more questions than answers.
There's not one, but three Shepards... At least from what I could gather from public registration for the Alliance military and an article written on Hannah Shepard, their mother.
With this revelation, I'm brought back to my initial dilemma… Should I change the timeline or not?
I wrestle with that dilemma for a few days before deciding only to do things in the background. Secretly preparing the galaxy for war with the Reapers... Maybe join or hell, even take over the Andromeda Initiative if things don't work out. The good news is I know a lot about the lore and theories of this game. At least much more than, say, Fallout or Skyrim...
I feel a slight twinge in my chest, but it quickly fades, and I chalk it up to one of my new organs acting up.
But right now, I need to focus on getting combat-ready. Because I decided my first step in turning Conrad into a badass will be signing up for the most badass job in the galaxy… A bounty hunter!