~Author's Note~ I know, I know. One does not attempt three stories at the same time. But this idea... this has to be put down before I forget it.
This is chapter 1 in a larger story that will be updated after either Warrior Angel or Aftershock has been completed, whichever comes first. For now, consider it a one-shot.
Details on Shepard and the ending to Mass Effect will become clear as the story progresses.
Definition of Terms:
ruach- A breath of wind. Only used for sentient creatures, generally for insignificant ones.
mel-keter- Metal-crusher. A small mining machine that can be "manned" by one person.
jaber- Idiot, fool.
veret- A small winged insect, found only on the homeworld of the Teralok race. They are so attracted to heat, they will fly directly into a fire.
warelysh- A wrong act, a crime.
It was when he broke through the cavern wall that Nazarim knew he had something big. The Teralok had been digging down in this excavation for the past twenty night-cycles, longer than many, but also shorter than many, driven onwards by the Yahg who had been put in charge of them- Berelis. No one would dare whisper a derogatory word to the Yahg's face, for it was not for nothing that they had once conquered much of the known galaxy. Only the Nightwalkers had managed to resist their advance.
An uneasy peace had rested over the galaxy for the past three hundred rotations, but even a small ruach like Nazarim knew that things were coming to a head. And this find... this was not going to help matters. The Yahg would undoubtedly claim the find, since they were technically in charge of the proceedings. The Nightwalkers would take offense to that, pointing out the slave labor that the Golden Hall turned a blind eye to, and demanding that the find be released for all the races to study.
For a brief moment, Nazarim considered not reporting the find, but his mel-keter, his metal-crusher, had already broken through the wall's exterior and it would be difficult, if not downright impossible to cover it back up. And not reporting the find would be pointless if the next jaber to stumble across the opening would simply report it anyway. He would miss out on the doubled rations, and they would be given to whoever had reported it- and that would be if he was lucky. If he was not, Berelis would undoubtedly have his hide stripped and given to the aklathla.
It was only as he was turning to report his findings to the leader of his shift that he heard the unfamiliar word, in a language even he did not recognize.
There was a light, something flickering at the far end of the chamber.
Now, by all rights, he should leave immediately and report to Berelis directly, for a find of this magnitude was unprecedented. But the light drew him. On his world, the Teralok would all gather round the large lights at the center of their vast cities, their wings beating in unison as their leaders began a chant that was as old as time itself, (or so they said). And Nazarim had not been gone long enough from his homeworld to completely shake the almost irresistible feeling of being drawn, like a veret to the flames.
He stepped through the hole in the wall, and in that instant, with that decision, his life-cycle was changed forever.
There were... things in the walls. Metal things, like round pods which the nymphs of the Teralok would use to change into their adult forms, shedding their old skin and bursting forth with new, glorious bodies, always done in the light of the flames. Always... except for him.
In the center of the room stood a large structure, stretching further upward into the ground than Nazarim could possibly see. At its base was a single, hovering light.
He strode towards it, his six legs covering ground much faster than many other species.
Whatever the light was, it had noticed him now. It turned towards him, becoming, in a way, less bright.
He raised all four of his hands and gave it the universal gesture for peace, palms out, five of his six fingers pointed downwards.
It clearly did not understand, even when he repeated the gesture.
The being seemed to be made of pure light. It was built extraordinarily odd- only two legs and two arms. How did this thing manage to support its weight on only two legs?
Nazarim stepped right up to it, and nearly tripped on an odd cable that ran from the great structure in the middle of the room, into the ground directly below this creature.
Since gesturing apparently didn't work, he tried speaking to it.
"The peace of the seven moons be upon you, creature of light. My bondmates call me Nazarim. By what name do you go?"
There was a whirr, a click, and a very unfamiliar language came out of the thing.
This was a puzzle indeed. If it could not speak the universal language, then how on earth was he going to communicate with it? And where had it for the past thousand planet-cycles?
Even as these thoughts flitted through his head, Nazarim was keeping one of its ears tuned to the strange creature's voice, which had not ceased since he had initiated contact. As he listened, it became more and more familiar, until finally-
"Repeat, please. Translation complete. I am now ready to engage in my task."
Well. Apparently it was a fast learner. A very fast learner. So Nazarim repeated his greeting.
The creature cocked its head and stared at him, the eyes piercing, the voice much stronger than before, seeming more alive than its first stumbling sentence in the language every creature in the galaxy spoke.
"And greetings of the seven moons to you as well, Nazarim. I have not had occasion for conversation for some time." More noises came from below, and the next sentence the creature gave voice to was laced with shock. "No! For fifty thousand years?"
It did not seem to be addressing him, so Nazarim remained silent. "You, creature! Are you ready for the return of the Reapers? How many fleets can your civilization bring to bear? How much firepower?"
He stumbled backwards, feeling hurt. It almost seemed to be accusing him of committing some warelysh, a thing-that-should-not-be-done.
"Answer me!" Then again, almost to itself. "It is too late. They didn't find out in time."
Nazarim stepped forward again, curious despite himself. "Find out what in time?"
The creature of light met his eyes coldly, turning away. "It is pointless. You have failed to discover the truth in time to do anything about it. It is most humorous that you have found me just as your time has ended." The next part was added so softly that if Nazarim had not been straining to hear it, he would not have caught it.
"That was a joke. It was not a very funny one, but what can one do after fifty thousand years of isolation."
He made his decision. He would return to Berelis and report about this strange creature of light, this thing in the middle of his mining tunnels. But he felt almost a kinship to it. It seemed lost, isolated from its people, just like he was.
So he repeated his original question to it. "By what name do you go, creature of light?"
It waved him off, its voice muttering again. "Pointless, it was all for nothing."
He sighed, and headed towards the exit, towards Berelis, and back to his boring, miserable life as a miner. He felt the thing's eyes on the back of his head, and as he stepped out of the circle of metal that surrounded the tower, he heard it call out to him.
"My name, creature... a very long time ago, my bondmates called me... Edi."