SPHERE OF INFLUENCE

It had been designated Project Crucible: A massive, kilometres long mega-structure designed (supposedly) by the long extinct Protheans and capable of releasing energy equivalent to the power of a supernova. Presided over by the remnants of the Alliance fleet, and incorporating some of the greatest minds from multiple species, it was the most awesome structure the Galaxy had seen since the construction of the Citadel. Practically every known race had a hand in its creation – Races that were until recently mortal enemies had now come together to help build it. And it was working. They were co-operating with each other. Asari, batarians, drell, elcor, geth, hanar, humans, a few krogan, quarians, rachni, salarians, and volus all toiled away on this project to help bring about the end of the war. This in itself was cause for renewed hope. They were proving what the races could accomplish if they worked together.

There weren't enough superlatives to adequately describe the object they were building...

Certainly, this was an alliance born of necessity; and there was no guarantee that the peace would last once the war against the Reapers had ended, but each individual involved in the project resolved to enjoy the experience to its full while they were there. And that included the melting pot of socialising…

Captain Amanda Dillon thought she had seen it all. In her 62 years she had travelled extensively across the Galaxy; stood on numerous alien worlds; supervised or been involved in unbelievable feats of engineering; greeted and fought multiple sentient races; seen magnificent supernovas; watched capital ships ablaze off the Horsehead nebula*; witnessed love blossom amongst disparate races (she'd even had a couple of alien lovers); and had raised a family on-board a star-ship in the depths of space. But never, in her many years of service to the Alliance, had she ever seen a geth play the bagpipes!

It wasn't a sight you were likely to forget in a hurry. She never even considered it to be physically possible. I mean, seriously, where does the air come from?

The mess hall had quickly fallen silent when the two geth first began playing, everyone staring in shock at the odd scene before them. Steadily, more people crammed into the hall, the crowd gathering in greater numbers when word had got out about the bizarre spectacle; while other members of the crew were attracted by the unexpected skirl of noise. The mess hall was now teeming, everyone standing in rapt attention before the geth musicians.

The geth Prime's tri-fingered hand flew over the bagpipes' chanter, its performance accompanied by a smaller grey geth platform that beat out a constant rhythm on a snare drum. The last few chords of "The Lost Song" were played out by the improbable pipe band, to be met with polite (but, mostly bewildered) applause from the incongruent groups of aliens filling up the crowded mess hall.

The geth didn't appear to make any acknowledgement of the ovation and simply packed away the instruments, as if the pair had done nothing more mundane than complete a maintenance job.

Captain Dillon stopped clapping and turned to her friend and colleague standing next to her. "I'm guessing you've got as many questions about that as I have," she said.

"You have no idea!" the Commander beside her replied, utterly bemused by the sight he'd just witnessed.

"Well, you go talk to it," she suggested, "I've got to coordinate with the rachni."

The Captain moved away with the groups of people who had now realised the show was over. Commander Hikaru Takei had been in the middle of a maintenance report when the music had started; the computer tablet he'd been working on now hanging limp and forgotten in his hand. Taking a deep breath he approached the mobile platform. The glowing photoreceptor of the geth Prime looked up as he advanced.

"Takei-Commander. May this platform be of assistance?" it enquired politely, its deep electronic voice resonating around the hall.

"You could say that," Takei muttered. "That was quite a performance," he stated. The geth didn't respond to the statement, but merely observed him impassively, waiting for him to continue. "Listen, I can't profess to have any knowledge of geth society, or indeed of quarian culture, but I'm guessing playing the bagpipes isn't an indigenous skill?"

"You are correct," the geth replied.

"Was playing musical instruments a skill the geth acquired before the war with the quarians?" Takei enquired; inwardly cursing himself for bringing up the geth's attack on their creators all those centuries ago. For all he knew, this program most likely fought in that war.

"Negative," the geth replied. It didn't appear to be moved by his question.

"So, what; you just decided to download a bagpipe primer from the extranet? Also, I have to ask: Where'd the air come from? You don't have lungs."

"Imitation of organic respiration is not challenging," the geth replied. "This platform is equipped with a turbine," it explained. "Additionally, character profiles of male and female human subjects were supplied to the consensus to facilitate comprehensive analysis of your culture. These subjects were selected due to their unique interfaces. This program adopted various musical attributes after studying the subjects."

"I see. So, the person you were studying knew how to play."

"Inaccurate – The individual in question does not possess that knowledge. However, further study of the male subject's culture has led this program to incorporate specific artistic sub-routines from the human's nation-state. It is a preference."

"Geth have preferences?" And that preference is playing the bagpipes?

"Since receiving the Old Machines upgrade codes, many programs have developed inclinations – A partiality for different aspects of organic culture. Isolation is no longer tenable. It is our consensus that co-operation with organics is not only a necessity but desirable. We wish to learn more about you."

"To what end?" Commander Takei demanded. "In my experience learning more about a former enemy is usually a prelude to attack."

"We have no wish to destroy organics. That move would be counterproductive. The Reapers are as much a threat to geth forces as they are to you. Their final solution is genocide; extinction of all sentient life. We reject their hypothesis. They do not represent order. The geth and Reapers may be synthetic but we do not share their narrow vision. Their enslavement of us and attack on the creators have proven the fragility of their argument. In effect, the Reapers' actions have convinced us that co-operation with organics is the key to survival."

"But allying yourselves with the Reapers means you might be spared," Takei pointed out.

"A minority of geth do believe there are levels of survival we should be prepared to accept, however a stable consensus on the subject has not been achieved… In this program's view: Is not extinction preferable to submission?"

"Live free or die, eh? Well, that's a… long debated point," the Commander conceded. He couldn't believe he was having a philosophical argument with a talking machine. "How have you learned so much about hu... er, organics?" the Commander asked.

"We have had assistance," the Prime admitted. "There are other synthetics allied with humans in addition to geth. One synthetic has provided the consensus with articles to assist our interaction with organics."

"What kind of articles?"

"Psychological profiles; neurological biochemical metabolites; systemic physiological responses; sexual diergism of hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal activity; instructional video aids; synthetic/organic co-operation subroutines."

That was a lot to take in. "I don't follow," the Commander said, somewhat bemused by the maelstrom of terminology.

"Example: Human procreation induces specific biological responses – Similar to creator physiological reactions. Human responses to synthetics are unknown. Video Instruction files were provided by the human synthetic ally to advance our understanding."

"Human synthetic ally… what do you mean?"

The geth activated his omni-tool and indicated the pad Takei was holding. "Uploading video file to remote tablet… Observe."

The Commander glanced down at the video image on the pad. It only took a second for him to realise what the geth had meant: The video he found himself watching was certainly instructional!

Takei's eyebrows arched in astonishment. "Oh myyyy!"

The two geth were slightly confused. They were standing in the engineering hub of section twenty-one theta of the Crucible sphere, and they were at a loss as to how to proceed. None of their attempted interactions with the organics working in this sector had been successful, with most of their organic colleagues either moving away rapidly or verbally remonstrating with them.

The geth platforms had analysed the likely scenarios extensively, and not come up with a solution. Co-operation between geth and organics on this Project was proving difficult – Especially amongst the creators. Most creators were suspicious of the geth – just as the geth were distrustful of the creators – while a minority of creators had been openly hostile towards the platforms. Having little understanding of organic behaviour the two geth had been merely tolerant; concluding the behaviour was within normal organic psychological parameters.

So, it was some relief that the consensus had provided new organic/synthetic co-operational subroutines in the next programme update… The two platforms stood rigid as their programs connected with the Rannoch orbital stations.

…Online: … Locating Consensus… Consensus achieved…

…Data mine in progress… … … Cluster analysis initiated…

…New algorithms identified… Receiving updates…

…Downloading synthetic/organic interactive subroutines…

…Initialising subroutines… … … …

…

Captain Amanda Dillon sat down in the relative quiet of the armoury while nursing a cup of coffee in her hand, grateful to be in a lockable, armed environment away from those 2-metre-long spider things. She hated speaking with the rachni. It wasn't that she'd had any problems so far. The insects were incredibly efficient labourers – They acted as one unit rather than individual engineers – But, meeting with them always freaked her out… An single worker would just take the information she provided and disseminated it amongst the other rachni, seemingly with no verbal communication. She had no idea how they did it.

But, it was more than just a phobia of the vicious looking creatures; a deeper part of her was worried. She feared their union with the rachni was tenuous at best; there was no guarantee the scuttling insects would want to continue this coalition. From what she'd heard, their queen had been a prisoner of the Reapers for goodness knows how long – There was no certainty the rachni could be trusted. And, now they had geth to contend with: If the machines suddenly decided to end the peace…

She was interrupted from her thoughts when the quarian coordinator, Rahda'Shar vas Tamar, ran up to her; her alien body language giving off the unnerved signals Amanda had come to recognise – The quarian was worried. Rahda'Shar spoke and Dillon's blood ran cold as she heard the words she'd been dreading: "Captain! Something's wrong with the geth!"

Dillon was on her feet in an instant, grabbing an assault rifle from the wall. "What's happened? Have they attacked anyone? Alert security!"

"No, nothing like that," Rahda'Shar placated her. "They're not violent. But, something's wrong with them. They're acting peculiar."

"Show me," Dillon ordered, already manouvering herself out the door and following the quarian down the passageway.

"It happened without warning," Rahda'Shar explained as she escorted the human at a brisk run. "They were downloading updates from the consensus and then suddenly went weird; they're not behaving the way geth should."

Oh, hell! Amanda thought. Have they been taken over by the Reapers again?

"I need details!" the Captain demanded. "The geth's normal behaviour has been to shoot at us in the past. And now they're allies. Surely you should know how the geth usually behave?"

"No, I'm not the person to ask," the quarian admitted. "The expert on the geth is currently on the Normandy. I couldn't begin to tell you what's wrong with them, but I'm damn sure they shouldn't be acting like this…"

Dillon understood what the quarian meant as soon as they entered the engineering hub. The two geth were at their consoles, and they seemed to be working at optimal capacity (in fact, they'd probably gotten a little faster), but that wasn't what struck her as odd… It was how they were communicating; there was no binary wail of noise she associated with the geth; they were talking to each other. And their dialogue was bizarre!

"…Why does this platform have to go crawling through the ducts?"

"The program occupying that platform would be better suited installing power convertors on its knees rather than observing the secondary sexual characteristics of the asari ally."

"This program was merely admiring the comparative dimorphism of the organic ally in an aesthetic mode."

"The platform is likely full of human faeces. This program would prefer that platform remove its metaphoric external photoreceptor from its own emergency egression port!"

"This program concludes the program occupying the platform opposite is overly mistrustful of this program."

"The program's assessment is correct. This program observed that platform participate in a near collision with a female creator ally; resulting in the creator impacting with the partition."

"The creator ally rebounded. There was sufficient top-heavy insulation!"

"The program occupying that platform is a qualified primary male sexual characteristic!"

"This program wishes it was a wall."

"This program suggests the platform's comparison to a bulkhead is accurate!"

Dillon and Rahda'Shar starred at each other for a long moment, uncertain what they should be doing about this. The geth weren't being violent, but this was behaviour you could in no way class as normal! Do geth even have a reset button? she wondered.

Dillon sighed resignedly; she'd been having nothing but problems since the geth and rachni had arrived to bolster their forces. She gently massaged her temples as she felt the early stages of a headache developing. It was going to be a long day…

The interested crowd around Commander Takei had swelled considerably in the last few minutes – As had the repeated inquiries about the video they were all watching…

"Spirits! Where did you find this?"

"It's an instructional vid sent to the geth to help them interact with us," Takei explained for the fourteenth time.

"Don't tell me that's how the geth want to interact with us!?"

"What the hell do they expect to learn from that?" a young female quarian mechanic demanded.

"The video log has been most illuminating," the geth replied. "It is a penetrating insight into organic responses to overtaxing situations."

"That's one way of describing it!"

"Keelah! Did a human actually volunteer for this?"

"He looks a little thin and pasty for a human," the krogan engineer looking over Takei's shoulder rumbled. "Probably needs to see the sun more."

"This one suggests the human has spent too much time in artificial environments," the hanar opposite proposed.

"Are those gel-packs?" an asari quizzed.

"Really? That's what you're focusing on?" the quarian asked.

"Well, look at where they're placed," the asari pointed out, "if he carries on like that they're gonna burst!"

"You're right. That should be his biggest worry right now…"

"He does look a little uncomfortable. That's an odd expression on his face."

"The Earth-Clan appears to be stuck," volus Engineer Tolla Vann observed as he stood on his tiptoes.

"Suggest he's in wrong position for that particular manoeuvre," a salarian added. "Should be on his back. Would relieve stress to vertebrae."

"I'm not certain we should be looking at this…"

An elcor glanced over the heads of the group. "With barely suppressed humour: Do all naked humans look like that?"

"No, some are much hairier with more muscle," the quarian replied; her confident statement eliciting a long pause as every eye (and tentacle) in the room turned towards her.

"And, you would know this, because…?" the asari asked.

The quarian's body language subtly shifted under the crowds penetrating stare. "I should… um, you know, um… I have to go," she squeaked, suddenly backing away and disappearing into the growing crowd. Multiple eyes were drawn back to the activity on the screen.

"Oh, now that just looks painful…"

"More leverage required," another salarian opined.

One of the women in the crowd (an ex-Cerberus engineer) turned away from the group as she spied a familiar face strolling through the mess hall doors. She recognised the man instantly and a smile spread across her face: It was the man who had been instrumental in saving her life, and the lives of her family back on Gellix.

So many had died in their escape from Cerberus forces on that planet, but this man, and a handful of others, had helped them to get to safety. And then, instead of turning them over to the authorities, had asked them to join this fantastic project and start their life anew. It was a second chance. She owed him so much and cheerfully hailed him as he approached.

"Hey, Taylor. Come look at this…"

"What is it?" the man asked, wandering over.

"You ever seen anything like this before?"

Jacob Taylor glanced at the pad and instantly recognised the face. "Oh hey, that's 'Joker'. Jeff Moreau, his real name," he explained, glancing sidelong at the woman. "He's the pilot on the Norman – Damn! What the HELL is he doing?"

"Well, if you need to ask that, then we really should have a talk."

"I know what he's doing!" Taylor countered. "I'm wondering why he's recorded himself doing it…"

Jacob glanced back at the pad, horrified (but also secretly delighted considering the number of times Joker had pranked him) that his friend was being exposed like this, when an electronic sounding voice could be heard breathing Mr Moreau's name: "Oh, Jeff…"

Jacob's mouth dropped open. "EDI?" he muttered incredulously.

The call was as welcome as it was unexpected. A priority message from Project Crucible, and for once it wasn't for the Commander… It was addressed to him. Joker eagerly opened the message and was pleasantly surprised to see a friendly face.

"Hey, Jacob – Long-time… If I'd known you were calling I'd have smartened the place up, maybe put on a tie."

"I can't see you in a tie, Joker," Taylor replied.

"Hey, I clean up nice. Good to see you got off Gellix safely. Thanks to our illustrious Commander, of course."

"Yeah, I'm good," Jacob replied affably.

"So, what; you never think of calling home before now? I've been worried sick. Six months after you jump ship and we get invaded by giant cuttlefish! Teach you to abandon us."

"Yeah, it's been quite a ride. Is, er… Is EDI listening in?" he asked.

"No, just me. She's in the AI Core trying to convert Javic to the synthetic faith."

"Javic? Oh, never mind… I wanted to talk to you, in fact. Something's come up over here," Jacob started.

"Did you know EDI acquired a body?" Joker interrupted; eager to tell him the news. "A new mobile platform; and it sure is mobile…"

"Yeees," Jacob said carefully, "I am aware of that now… Listen, Joker… You need to hear this…"

…

Shepard was relaxing with Tali in his cabin when they heard the shout over the intercom. His immediate reaction was to put the ship on high alert; such was the ferocity of the scream. Shepard bounded to his feet and was halfway to the door before he remembered to actually put some clothes on… A second later, Tali jumped off the bed, her hand instinctively reaching around her back for the shotgun that was no-longer there (but then, neither was her suit).

The relative peace of the Normandy had been shattered by the strangled cry of the Flight-Lieutenant – It was obvious he was in great distress:

"Whhaaa…? EDI!"

Author's note: - *Okay, there are a total of four paraphrased references from different sci-fi icons in this story. Kudos if you got them all.

Addendum: Here are the all the sci-fi references (or 'homages', if you'd prefer).

In order: The 'Blade Runner' reference was a paraphrasing of the famous Roy Batty line: 'Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion,' as he sits dying in the rain.

The second and third references come from the Geth Prime's statement: "A minority of geth do believe there are levels of survival we should be prepared to accept, however a stable consensus on the subject has not been achieved… In this program's view: Is not extinction preferable to submission?" which is from the Architect of The Matrix Reloaded, where he states to Neo: "There are levels of survival we are prepared to accept." While, 'Is not extinction preferable to submission?' is a spin of Saren Arterius's famous line to Commander Shepard, when he says: "Is not submission preferable to extinction?"

Finally, and most obviously, is the iconic George Takei and his immortal catchphrase: "Oh Myyy!".

Thank you all for reading.