Author's Note:
For some of you, welcome back. For some, welcome for the first time.
It's been a while since I was active on FF, but I assure you I've not been dead. Just traveling, working, and writing CE2:R. A fair warning – this will be a longer-than-usual A/N as I lay out a bit of groundwork.
So, if you happened to be wondering… Chaos Effect, as a series, is a little project built off of the Mass Effect galaxy. Races, technology, and history are all about the same as the games. There's obvious differences and some subtle, but the point was to move into an independent story.
May it be clear that this is a sequel (well, the title and description should give that away). If you haven't read Chaos Effect: First Contact, then most of this won't make that much sense. Not to say it can't be done, but I'd suggest you take a looksee at s/6696503. There's also CE:Dawning (s/9606083), which was meant to be a little filler between CE:FC and CE2.
Disclaimer stuff:
-Bioware owns Mass Effect and all that jazz. You know how it goes.
-The original characters and story of Chaos Effect are property of Freeride600
-Etcetera.
Feel free to review or PM me with any questions or comments, and enjoy the read!
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Chapter null – Prologue
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Beneath the scars, beneath the lost blood, broken bones and treachery of war, there was a man. By the time it was over, I no longer knew that man. In my reflection there was a machine.
A machine with crimson cybernetic eyes and slicked back hair.
/
Reboot sequence initiated…
…
Performing hardware check...
….
New hardware found. Integrating… Complete.
…
Loading core systems…
…
Checking memory banks for errors…
Bank 0: no errors found
Bank 1: no errors found
Bank 2: no errors found
Bank 3: errors found… Recovering… 100% success.
…
Starting main processes… Finished.
/
When you first arise from a deep slumber, there is only light and dark. No focus, only the movement of light. Your eyes and mind begin to focus, making shapes out of the movement. Those shapes begin to gain color and clarity.
I began to recognize the outlines of my hands in front of my face. The left a healthy, flesh color. The right a synthetic black. I knew they were mine; they both responded as I flexed my fingers. I focused on the two extremities as my mind began to sharpen.
Each breath was a struggle.
In a rapid, pained jolt I was aware that it was not air I was breathing. Water. I lashed out, trying to grab onto something past my focus. My hands hit an invisible barrier. Glass. I was trapped in the fluid, fighting against it.
Then release. I felt the pressure giving around me as the water drained away, first exposing my head and allowing for coughing gasps as it continued to lower around me. Without the liquid suspending me, I collapsed to my knees, pressing my hands against the glass prison.
Then that too gave way. I collapsed forward, landing on cold, hard floor. Still coughing and drenched, I pushed myself up on my hands and knees. Long, soaking hair fell over my face as I looked up. I managed to fall back onto my legs, so I sat there on my ankles. My arms were trembling from the tiny exertion, barely able to brush my hair back so I could see ahead. It had been a while since any of my muscles had seen use.
My ears were still full of water and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. But my vision cleared enough to where I could see ahead.
An old man in a black suit sitting in wheelchair, flowing grey hair and wrinkled skin, watching me with a warm expression and waiting patiently.
I looked around to see if I had reason to panic, if I would need to fight. It was only the two of us, me and the old man, in a long room. Just wider than a hallway, black metal walls, floor, and ceiling. To my right there was a window, a big glass window that went from floor to vaulted ceiling.
It was blinding. A red star was not far away.
I turned back to the old man, shook my head and cleared out my ears.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, my boy."
I stared at him for several seconds, knowing that he seemed oddly familiar. After several seconds of trying to figure out how my voice worked again, I asked: "Who are you?"
"My name is Jack Trinder." He began, turning his wheelchair towards the window. "I must apologize for the introduction. Time has not allowed for the most attention to detail. I had hoped to give you more time to readjust and for us to prepare."
I shifted so that I too faced the window, shaking my head and pressing my palm against my brow. Everything was foggy. My thoughts were fleeting and uncoordinated. "Where are we? What's going on?"
"I'm afraid you have too many questions and I have too few answers." Jack replied. "I will answer what I can. This is the TIER headquarters, located in the Outer Rim."
"Tier?" I turned my head to the side, a bit of water flushing out of my right ear.
"It stands for Terminus Intelligence Enforcement and Recon. It has been my project. My way of trying change things for the better." He explained. "May I ask what your name was – or still is?"
"Jackson." I immediately stated, then went over the words again: "Forrest Jackson."
"Then welcome back, Forrest."
I rubbed my hands over my face, finally looking – rather, squinting – out at the star again. I didn't understand what he was saying. The words were there, but each held no meaning. I shook my head again, hair spinning around until I stopped and looked down my hands. One organic, one synthetic. I remembered why I had the synthetic one. A run-in with a whole troop of Mk.15s. Mean bastards, cybernetic prototypes that ran amok with four blades in place of arms. One had sliced my right hand clean off. My eyes ran along my new hand from the fingers back. I didn't know why the black metal and synthetic leather construction now extended to my shoulder, fusing with flesh at the joint. There had to be a reason. I would get answers sooner or later. Still, that was a while ago. Goddamn, it was all there. I remembered it was yesterday. The 517th, the Contractor. Azarith, Sovereign. Rana. Losing my mind and spacing myself. "How long have I been out?"
"I don't know when you went under." Jack replied and shook his head. "I can only tell you what year it is now."
"And?" I pressed. It couldn't be much past 2013. Hell, the Contractor war had come to a head in 2012.
"This may be quite the shock to you…" Jack began, "But it's the year 2190."
I broke, all thoughts abandoning me for several seconds. That wasn't just a few years. That was nearly two fucking centuries. "I'm sorry. Did you say twenty-one ninety?"
"I'm sorry, my boy. But yes."
"I went out in 2012." I noted blankly as I stared into space.
Just as soon as my memories had come back, everything had been shattered. I wasn't sure how to handle it all. So I sat there, still dripping wet, and thought about everything that would have changed, well aware of my tightening stomach.
Earth would be different. My parents would be long dead. Gone without as much as 'good-bye.'
I realized I was choking up. All the time I had spent on the 517th, I had assured myself I would one day return to earth, see the people I loved once more.
The 517th had certainly moved on, if they weren't disbanded. Or dead.
Kaira T'Suni. She would probably have blamed herself for my death. I needed to tell her that it wasn't her fault. That she was still one of the most incredible leaders.
Delina T'Kasan. My first thought that she would have been disgruntled that I went and spaced myself, since it would be more work for her. That was probably the case. But I also knew, as much as she tried to hide it, loved me like a sibling.
Rana T'Lan. Rana… I had no idea where to start, really. My chest constricted around my heart as I thought about her. Out of the entire squad, I felt the worst about leaving her as I had. Nearly killing her as my mind collapsed, then spacing myself and an overcharged Reaper avatar to protect her. Dammit, I hoped she was still alive. Would she understand my reasoning? Would she accept any form of apology? Or was I being selfish in trying to get clearance, to set things right, and I would only salt old wounds? The poor maiden had certainly moved on. After mending her own broken heart.
I realized my gut was knotting up. I felt like shit for how I had left the 517th. I had bailed on them, without so much as a farewell to Kaira or Delina, then spaced myself to keep clean of the Reaper Sovereign's control. Some teammate I had been. I hissed under my breath, tried to pretend the water on my cheeks was just run-off from my hair. "God damn it all…"
For me, it was just yesterday.
But that was 178 years ago.
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