Massive Disaster 4-10

The main training room hummed as kinesis barriers cycled through their charge sequence, a sound Caleb had almost stopped hearing after enough hours down here. The girl across from him with long blue hair tied up into two pigtails — a hairstyle more feminine than he’d ever expect from her — moved through warm-ups like someone who’d learned that wasted motion got you killed—each stretch flowing into the next, nothing casual about any of it.

Yeah, N7 had clearly sharpened her.

The girl who used to sprawl on couches and laugh too loud was gone, replaced by someone who moved like every room might contain threats.

“Ready when you are,” she said, settling into a stance.

Caleb nodded and took his own position. His body was already calculating distances, angles, reading the way she distributed her weight. Part of him that never turned off anymore, background process running constant threat assessment even when the threat was a friend who was only a few inches shorter than he was now.

She came first.

A quick brutal jab flew toward his midsection, Kira moving with clean technique and form that was downright beautiful with how textbook it was. He read it in the shift of her shoulders before her hand moved, slower than Kai had been, and he reacted, deflectinginstead of meeting with a block.

Contact sang up his arm—he could feel exactly how much force she was putting behind it, like reading numbers off a screen.

Kira adjusted without wasting even a half-second, a low kick aimed at his knee. Smart.

It was, honestly, going for joints instead of trying to match strength she didn’t have. He shifted, let it glance off his shin, pushed back with enough force to slide her across the mat. “You’re holding back,” she said, circling him.

“Maybe you’re just getting better.”

Her smile had edges now. “Don’t bullshit me, Caleb.”

The next exchange came faster.

Kira feinted left, drew his attention high while her right swept low. When he moved to block, she pivoted, and used his reaction to set up a throw that should have put him down. And it would have, if she had attempted it eighteen months ago.

Put him down and into a hospital bed for at least a week.

Now, though, his balance adjusted automatically, center of gravity shifting without thought, and he stayed upright despite the physics of what she’d just tried.

Her eyes widened, both then and as Caleb pressed forward.

He threw punches with controlled pressure, each strike measured to test her without overwhelming her completely. She adapted in real time, drew on training that pushed human limits to their breaking point. Under normal circumstances, she’d be more than capable.

These weren’t normal circumstances.

Blue light flickered around her hands as the biotic charge in her body began to build, that ionizing taste in the air he wasn’t sure most people noticed. Her next punch came enhanced, enough force to crack ribs if it landed clean.

And her aim was clean, aimed right for his solar plexus with surgical precision.

Caleb caught her wrist mid-strike and absorbed the force of the impact without stepping back even in the slightest. Biotic energy dissipated against him like water hitting stone. Kira’s eyes widened as he locked her in place—the N7 straining to complete the strike, him holding her steady without effort. She pushed more power into it, biotic flare brightening as she tried to force through his defense.

Okay, let’s not do too much. Careful not to hurt her, Caleb released Kira, and took a proper step back. He meant it as respect but he ould see in her face it didn’t land that way.

Kira reset, but something had changed in her posture. The girl had clearly given up testing, and was down to fully commit.

She came at him with everything—biotic-enhanced combinations flowing like water, throws using his momentum against him, strikes aimed at nerve clusters with the kind of precision they taught people to kill efficiently.

Beautiful, in its way. Perfect demonstration of what human training could accomplish.

Yet, it just wasn’t enough.

Caleb stood 5 ’11, and roughly 255 lbs of “pure enhanced posthuman muscle”, according to Zedd, with “bone up to five times normal strength” and skin “closer to animal hide in terms of tension strength”.

He didn’t know her exact measurements, but Kira was… not that.

Caleb absorbed what he needed to, deflected what he could, did his best to make the fight even as the sparring match wore on. Not about strength or speed, he thought with gritted teeth, darting back and meeting a kick of hers with a raised knee, it’s about skill.

And Kira had plenty of that.

He’d always thought of Kira as scary the first and only twelve-month period he had spent around her, even before Zedd had… 

Well, the polite term was ‘saved the colony’, but even before Zedd had done any of that and long before Kira had left, the girl had her own training, easily enough to make the militia even if it hadn’t been for her biotics. 

But now…

Caleb ducked a hard elbow that might have made his nose sore (at least for a few minutes)… he guessed? 

It would have hurt at the very least, probably.

Man, this really isn’t fair. He had known that the procedure that made him Major Victory had made him a great deal more effective physically, sure. That much was obvious in the way Kai Leng had to struggle and strain to make him hurt… at least before his own mods…

He’d seen it in action when he went against Batarians and fought against attempts to breach VI’s HQ or manufacturing plants, but this was another N7. I guess I just expected it to be like fighting Kai…

Unfortunately, it was a lot more disappointing. If he were normal, he would compare this to like… fighting a nine-year old. A skilled nine year old, sure, maybe even a ten year old, but nothing like a real fight. He held back the urge to shake his head. Yeah, let’s close this out.

When she overextended on an ambitious combination, he moved. Not with everything he had, but enough to end it clean. Found her center of gravity, applied pressure that sent her tumbling backward. Kira tried to recover, eyes wide from the shock of the sudden movement, but the girl collapsed back from the sheer sudden force, barely catching herself with a single roll before she came to rest against the wall.

She lay there, breathing hard, sweat on her forehead, beaten but not bruised. Well… at least not bruised enough to last. 

When she looked at him, those blue eyes turning his way, something had shifted in her expression.

“Zedd?” she said, eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. Caleb knew she had picked up on it from the moment she saw him, even if she hadn’t been aware of it while off-colony. He was taller and way healthier than he had been when she last saw him, even if healthier was such an understatement it was like comparing a dreadnought to a frigate. 

Caleb tilted his head, the mascot unable to help the smile as it spread across his face. “Zedd.”

They sat afterward, backs against the wall, each with their own sealed tumblers of water, his blue and branded with Victory Innovations logo in white and hers in black with the N7 symbol in a bright crimson. Kira pulled her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them, the action making her look a lot younger than a simple twenty-one.

Even as she sat still, Caleb could see it clear enough. Yeah, its there. He’d heard rumors of how different they were and seeing it in person, there was absolutely no comparison, whether against militia or normal Alliance marines. That N7 discipline was still there but relaxed, like a hardsuit with its shields off.

“So,” Caleb finally said. “How was it? The program.”

Her quiet was a long one, long enough he thought she might not answer.

“Intense doesn’t cover it. Everything anyone has ever fuckin’ said about N7 selection being hell, that’s just the start. Real challenge is figuring out who you are when they’re done breaking you down.” Kira paused, the Alliance soldier taking a long pull from her water, before letting out a sigh. “I was good at it. Really good, but I guess I already had some experience with Alliance combat doctrine from the trainer they sent me when my biotics kicked in.” 

She clicked her tongue, leaning her head back against the wall. “Urban combat, hostile environments, scenarios that kill people if they make mistakes. Turns out biotics help when you’re clearing buildings.”

“But?”

“Some instructors had issues with biotics. Nothing crazy, y’know,” She pulled a face as she said it though, Caleb couldn’t help but notice, his senses tuned to process faster than most people could manage their micro-expressions. “Yeah, they usually kept it professional. Just small things. Extra scrutiny, assignments designed to make you fail, comments about ‘unnatural advantages’ when you succeeded.” A dry laugh spilled out of her throat. “Enhanced reflexes from gene therapy are fine, but add anything eezo-related and suddenly you’re a cheating cheater who cheats.”

Caleb nodded. He’d seen that attitude before.

“You finish?”

“Yeah. Made it through, got the rating.” She gestured at all of herself. “On extended leave right now. Taking time to figure out what comes next.”

“Alliance career girlie, still?”

“That’s the question.” Kira leaned back against the wall, stared at the ceiling. “I’m basically on the vaguest orders on assignment to monitor this colonial sector.” The look on her face said everything, spoke deep on how much of that was entirely bullshit and she knew it .”I could request a different positioning. Take assignments, work my way up, maybe make a difference. Or stay here, have more control.”

“What do you want?”

Her quiet stretched for longer this time. “Y’know, I used… I used to think I knew. Serve the Alliance, protect human interests, be part of something bigger. But after months with other N7 candidates, seeing how the system works…” She gave a shrug, clearly unsure what else to say. “Maybe making a difference doesn’t require the uniform.”

The training room door slid open with a hiss as Zedd stepped inside. The boss man stood tall (as he always did now), muscles bulging in his tight blue shirt. Brown eyes roamed across the room, and paused as they fell on both Kira and Caleb on the far end, those eyes roaming over Kira and then staying firm on her hair.

Everyone and everything was silent.

Kira broke it.

“You’re such a fuckin’ cheater, Zedd,” she said with a scoff, the big man standing tall and buff and clearly enhanced, her gaze flicking to Caleb for a half-second. “Like, come the fuck on.”

“Good to see you too, Bue.” Caleb blinked as he remembered the old nickname Zedd had for Kira, the boss’s expression softening slightly as the world left his lips. “Nina said you were back. Figured I’d find you here.”

“Yeah, Nina said that, I bet,” she shot back with a scoff. “Where else would I be?” Her tone was light, but Caleb caught something clearly sharp in it, an edge underneath. “Got to stay sharp.”

Zedd’s gaze moved between them, back and forth, again and again. His brain was clearly moving fast, same as it always was, but Caleb wasn’t sure what was going on upstairs. “You two catching up?”

“…something like that,” Caleb said, unsure if he was interrupting which was weird because Zedd was the one that just showed up.

Another silence filled the room, far heavier this time as Caleb studied both of them—Kira with her new discipline and questions about the future, Zedd with obvious exhaustion and whatever he was carrying that he couldn’t talk about. “Should let you finish,” Zedd said as he made to move back out the door.

“We were done,” Kira said quickly. Too quickly, like she didn’t want him to leave.

Zedd nodded but was clearly still planning to leave, the boss looking at both of them with something Caleb couldn’t read. “It’s good that you’re both here. I know things have been complicated. But it’s good.”

He turned and left, the door sliding quickly shut behind him with a soft hiss.

Kira sat there for a few seconds more, clicking her tongue, before she got up and shook out her pigtails. “I want a rematch,” she said the words without turning around, already halfway out the room by the time Caleb blinked.

Almost as quickly, the door slid shut behind her too.

Caleb sat in the quiet, still on the floor, tumbler halfway to his lips. “… they just need to clap it out and get it over with.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The photo sat on the nightstand of his bed. Smiling faces stared back at him from the early days on New Abraham—younger versions caught in a moment of happiness that felt like it belonged to different people. Nina’s smile was unguarded as she stood in the center, wrapped in his arms, Kira relaxed in a way that seemed impossible now with one arm thrown over his shoulder. Caleb thinner, still with glasses and in the baggiest jumpsuit a human being could possibly wear to hide his weak body, Dev with his arm wrapped around Zedd’s other shoulder and his other arm around Adele.

As Zedd’s eyes traced their faces, he couldn’t help but linger on Nina’s expression, Kira’s eyes sparkling with mischief that had nothing to do with military precision. Times when the biggest challenge was making a small brand new pre-fab feel like home. 

Everything was different and the weight of change pressed down heavy, damn near a physical thing. 

Zedd set the photo face-down and rolled over.