The first encounter with life on Sol2487-3 - we called it “weeny wacky mudpot”, at least for the time being - would proof itself as one of the most gruesome experiences of my life. We enterd the “field”, as Dr. Proaxl named it, but in fact it was a jungle. The stems of that cultivated grass reached far into the sky, almost as far as anyone could see. The soil underneath was brown, crumbling, muddy, and smelled like a space corps’ field latrine in Pjörecian summer. Our expedition platoon consisted of in total four security squads members, including Loxxar Kraes, respectively two members of both medical and scientific squad, on top of that Dr. Proaxl, my first mate Xato Nexgrra and myself. Eleven trained and experienced ambassadors of the Intergalactic Federation of Peace in Space, half of our ship’s crew. The other half stood behind and secured the ship.
As we ranged the woods, suddenly a creature stepped out of the shadows. Our first encounter! Following the protocoll, we stayed alerted, but calm and peacefully. The creature was about our size, quite round and, well, fluffy. Its skin looked like it was covered of billions of the Grdklean Firewrappers poisonous prickles - hopefully it wasn’t as toxic as them. But our protective gear should grant our safety. The creature approached us on all four of its limbs, and began to collect grains that were scatterd around the ground and nibbled peacefully on them while it peered at us. Its eyes were dark and round and full of… nothingness. Did it even see us? Did it even comprehend the fact that it had encountered life from outer space? This one clearly couldn’t be one of this planet’s sentinent races. I at least couldn’t remember of any sentinent race that used the same limbs for running as for eating. And this empty glance, uninvolved to anything on this planet and propably the entire universe and… for Xaleates’ sake, just how many of that grains could this thing fit in its cheeks?! “Look how it’s stuffing itself” smirked Loxxar Kraes, “those grains must be quite delicious. Maybe we should take some, to…” As soon as he reached for one of the grains, the gates of Xyrrhos hells opened. The creature, just a second before dispassionate as a rock, jumped at him like a rabid Rjurcean Brooax. Fangs as long as my head burrowed into Loxxar Kraes’ breastplate. Fortunately it was designed for and tested in outer space, so there was no way it… it just broke. That beast just bit through one of the toughest armors the IFPS could provide. Loxxar Kraes screamed in pain, but was soldier enough to take his gun and shoot the damn monster in the face. I nearly had forgotten my position, as I pulled my gun and screamed on top of my breathing diaphragms “Fire! Fire! With all you’ve got!” Beams of blazing hot plasma and bolts of concentrated electric energy whooshed through the air and hit the creature hard. It squeeked in such a high pitched tone and absurd enormous volume, that three of our team’s members - one security and both of the scientists - fainted immediately. But thank Xaleates the beast fled, leaving a scent behind that was even worse than the latrine soil we stood in.
“Status?” “He is alive” answered Dr. Proaxl, “at least for now. If we returned to our ship, we could stabilize and propably save him, unless…” “Unless?” I asked nervously. “Unless those spineless worms that prefer crouching through the mud rather than helping in medical care of a wounded comrade can’t pull themselfes up again!” she vituperated against the collapsed crew, especially her own squad members. The scolded ones flinched concerned, regardless the circumstance that Dr. Proaxl was the only one around who as a matter of fact had not a spine. “Ok everyone” I commanded, “return to the ship! Weapons at the ready and all organs of perception at work!”
We retreated as fast as Loxxar Kraes’ condition allowed. But as we reached the edge of the street, the next monster awaited us. Right on top of our ship sat - IT FRICKIN’ SAT! ON MY SHIP! - a monstrousity unheard of. Not even the scariest tales of my homeworld’s pitchblack mythology would have prepared me for this nightmare. A creature, covered in dozens of long spikes, each of them encircled with black filaments, like leafs of a tree. And its size. It was as tall as half of my crew stacked over each other. Its two limbs each branched into four roots, three in front and one in the back, wrapped around the ships hull and left screaching deep scratches, for the giant claw at the end of each root, that would have put the ceremonial weaponry of the IFPS’ guards of honour at blank shame. Its head alone was formed like an ancient weapon, a gigantic spear, meant to impale one’s body at whole. And its eye. It was gigantic, wide opened, deep as the wide darkness of space itself, but nothing compared to that earlier one’s eyes. This here seemed terrific intelligent. It fixated us with its cold, taxing glance. Suddenly, from one second to the other, the giant turned its head and showed us another eye, identic to the other one. It even bent its neck and stared down to us. It was horrific intimidating. Through the windows of the ship I could see the rest of my crew, shuddering of fear. Then the beast unbended two additional limbs one couldn’t have expected, it stretched those extremities as if it wanted to cover the sun and bring neverending darkness upon us. We could feel how the ground was shaking and from afar rumbling thunder approached to us. This was an incarnation of Xyrrhos himself and he was about to bring us doom. Then with a clash of its gigantic black limbs it jumped - No! It pressed the air beneth it! - it flew! It genuinly flew! Without any recognizable device, it flew! Away. “What at my progenitor’s lappets was that?!” whispered Xato Nexgrra. Then, the doom struck.
A mountain, taller than you could see, faster as you could think, with deafening uproar scorched through, black and silver linings hasted through my sights, a screaching noise of ripping metal echoed in my ears. Blazing storms dragged me along, hundreds of steps away from the point I stood before. When I could pull myself up again, the unimaginable had happened. My ship was gone. Obliterated. Pulverised. Half of my crew, shreds in the blasting winds. Exterminated by a might incomprehensable to my thoughts.
“This isn’t weeny wacky mudpot any longer. This is… Devil’s Playground.”
Y’all, Bioware is fucking insane sometimes, and I absolutely love it.
Jen Hale’s delivery is genius, I dissolve into giggles every time I watch this.
Commander Shepard: “Please send this to an animal shelter for proper disposal as a warship is not an appropriate….” Oh, that is not okay. She messed with my hamster, guys. Now it’s personal. Guys? Were you gonna say something, or… No, no, I get it. Hard to even find the words. Should we check on my fish, ‘cause if she’s getting rid of all the pets… We should probably deal with her first, huh? Alright. Sit tight, little guy. Anybody gives you trouble… Go for the eyes.
So while everyone continues to debate Andromeda, get butt hurt over facial animations, and make heart eyes at Jaal, I’m just here wondering how the hell the space hamster made it 600yrs to Andromeda and onto the Tempest.