A/N- Well, well, well. What do we have here? Oh, that's right: Reverse Effect: The Spark, a totally unique story based on the universe created by OrbitingTheSun and inspired by other stories like Renegade Reinterpretations, by CollegeFool. This isn't the 2183 you remember now, kiddos. In this universe, the noble and mostly paragon Systems Alliance has been replaced by a ruthless, propaganda-driven oligarchy: the Grand Human Alliance. Which means that the protagonists you know and love have become the antagonists you'll come to know and hate.
This is just the beginning, too. I hope you all like it. And, hey, if you don't, tell me what I can do better. Read and review, folks. Without further preamble, I give you Reverse Effect.
Prologue
The Great Cull was over. Worlds were remembered briefly and then forgotten. Peoples were lost forever to time. Their homes were unrecognizable, and the greatest of these races, the Protheans, were staging a last attack against their oblivion. A long shot in a galaxy they had filled with woe.
Two angels of justice held an orbit around a planet that was once a Prothean stronghold; one of their last. As they glided through space, their white hulls became tinged with blue streaks to the observer as they journey approached light speed. Two magnificent sentient ships began a dialogue.
"50,000 years. Why so long of a time, Harbinger? Could not we have prevented more of the cruelties of the Protheans if we had acted sooner? These beings, this cycle, were they worse than others? They colonized the galaxy and destroyed their AI, but they were still sentient. Was this right?" the ship designated Nazara asked of its elder.
The ship known as Harbinger rumbled greatly. "We do not have a choice if they do not give us one. It is not our wish to destroy them. Recall, we gave them The Ultimatum. So many years ago, we told them, in no uncertain terms, that their choices were accepting peace and tolerance or being destroyed. Their decision was made. As was ours."
"To kill them all, to destroy their culture, though, is cruel, and ultimately difficult to maintain. In the early stages of the Cull, they were able to destroy some of us!"
"Precisely. Even more reason to force them to listen to the call of wisdom. We are not their gods, Nazara. We are the Sentinels of their future. We watch and act. But we allow them to make that choice for us," Harbinger intoned.
"They will continue along this path again and again and again. Why don't we let them be?" Nazara asked.
"And sacrifice all life in the galaxy? As you grow, Nazara, you will learn. There is only one answer to tyranny, that is, revolution. And only one answer to injustice, and, that is, justice. The justice only we can provide."
As Harbinger retreated into the galactic cloud, a newly formed nebula of stars, Nazara took the time to observe the last of the Prothean worlds.
A broken people. A lost war. A fate to be repeated, but not if he could do anything about it.
And he swore he would.
-RE-
In 2147, the United North American States funded a private expedition to the planet Mars, and found what they had never dreamed of: a still-functioning outpost of a hyper-advanced alien race, the Protheans, who had been observing Earth's evolutionary path. It was not long before humanity reached out to touch the stars together and formed the Grand Human Alliance for that purpose.
Soon, after the discovery that the moon of Pluto, Charon, was not a moon, but a mass relay, a gigantic convoluted machine that could alter mass fields to send objects hurtling at speeds faster than light, humans could finally become galactic citizens.
And all thanks to that peculiar device that alter physical laws, that device that humans call the greatest discovery in recorded history.
The greater galaxy, however, tends to call it...MASS EFFECT...
I have to stop myself from laughing at the dramatics the author was taking with his prologue. Drew Karpyshyn is just another puppet author, devoted to spreading the GHA's propaganda wherever and whenever he could. Not that I would ever say that to him personally, of course, but it is true.
I close my datapad's text-processing program and turn my attention out my vidscreen. The display reads a feed from its exact location outside the hull; a reasonable replacement for a structurally unsound window. It shows me the familiar black canvass, dotted with the pinpricks of light, each one a world to be mined or settled by the GHA or the Council, preferably as soon as possible.
"...and now, with your daily news, Diana Allers." The words come over the public announcement system, and I lent an ear to her, even though I consciously held that she was speaking mostly bullshit.
"Thank you, Emily. In the most recent news for the Grand Human Alliance, humanity's first SPECTRE is giving Eden Prime a visit this week. A scientific team from Binary Helix has unearthed a relic from the Prothean era, and Commander of the SSV Normandy, Jane Shepard- also the SPECTRE in question- has been assigned by the Citadel Council to safely transport the relic, which is currently in a classified location, to a Council research outpost on a satellite of Zion. From there, it is expected that humanity will be duly credited for the discovery and attain that long sought-after Council seat. For GHAN Network, this is Diana Allers." The feed fades into nothingness. Apparently, the ship's crew wanted us to here this segment alone.
The lightest of footfalls sounded from somewhere behind me, and my head snaps to center, only to have my eyes follow the body that moves silently past me in the aisle. It's a soldier of the Grand Human Alliance, which happens to pass for the government in these parts.
He glares at each passenger as he passes them, and as he passes me, I give him a counter-glare that I hope has some effect. If it does, I don't see it through his opaque white helm. His entire uniform is white and gray, supposedly to show that he is an active keeper of the peace. What that means for him, though, is at least 20 years of servitude to a slavemaster of a sergeant and then a violent death in the Free Terminus Systems.
I look up to see the soldier exit this transport bay and the sign above me light up: "Fastening no longer required," essentially meaning the transportees can move about the cabin freely. I get up to stretch my legs.
I amble down the aisle that borders my row of seats and look across at the people who are my traveling companions. All of them reflect some degree of world-weariness that I've come to notice about those who travel to different worlds in the GHA's borders. They all seem...almost dead inside, as if just going to different places is killing them. Of course, given that traveling off of your homeworld is something that is encouraged in order to form a "galactic opinion", it tends to affect a lot of humans these days.
I overhear an argument between a man and a woman sitting across from one another near where I'm standing. Deciding that it would be best to avoid this particular situation, I put my head down and pretend to look occupied as I walk past.
"...and that's exactly what I'm saying, Meredith. You shouldn't feel entitled just because you're the son of an officer!" the man says. "Hey, you, tell my friend here exactly what the GHA does to civs like us, will you? She seems to have forgotten."
Damn it. "Look, I can't just say things like that about the Alliance."
Meredith finds her voice. "Yeah, James. The Alliance has given us everything: clean clothes, fresh water, plenty of resources-"
"No, damn it, they haven't! They pretend to. Visit any salarian information broker. He'll be happy to tell you all about how much of our taxes go to propaganda and military expenses; only a fraction goes to civil works!"
"That doesn't change our quality of living, James! It doesn't matter to me what happens to my money. I happen to like my life and I'm sorry you don't, but that's your prob-"
"No, it's not just my problem!" he shouts. I see out of the corner of my eye the watchful stare of some passengers and an awaiting GHA soldier. I decide to try calming this guy down before he gets all three of us into serious trouble.
"James, you don't just claim these things about the government. We all come from different places. I was raised middle-class, for instance. I was never rich, but my family was still able to grab me an off-world job. I'm here to work in administration at the planetary defense station." I lower my voice. "Look, I have no reason to hate the GHA, OK? Sure, they may not always to the "morally correct" thing, and maybe I don't trust everything they say, but they haven't done anything terrible outright, have they?"
Sensing I may have just challenged him, I change tack. "So come on, if you just quiet down, maybe you and Meredith here can go back to talking about-"
"Turn around, civilian." I turn to find a gun barrel aimed at my chest. "I don't have any reason to shoot you," she says, lowering his gun, "but if you keep spitting out this garbage, I will detain all of you for the duration of this journey."
I glance back out a vidscreen to see it displaying the upper atmosphere of Eden Prime, our destination planet. At least it wouldn't be a long detention. Still, I try not to risk it. "Alright, Lt. Bhatia," I say, seeing her stripes and ID, "I'll sit down and shut up. James, anything to add here?"
James meekly shakes his head and turns back to the window. Meredith offers an embarrassed smile and explains that he does this all the time, but doesn't mean it, but he's a good guy, really. That seems to placate the soldier, although the hunch of her shoulders seems to indicate she was looking forward to detaining some rebels.
I move back to my seat, legs feeling as stretched as they can. The vid-window proves more interesting than my datapad, so I take to staring again. Sometimes, the majesty of the stars can't compare to the simple pleasure of seeing a small planet's vista unfold before you.
Eden Prime was a major coup for the GHA when they colonized it. According to what I hear, the Quarian Collective was looking to colonize it, too, since its raw mineral count was off the damn charts, and if Quarians desire anything besides technology, it's resources so they can build more of their mechanical servants, the "dumb mechs".
Of course, thanks to Admiral Hackett pressing the Citadel Council to show its most prosperous client species some respect, the settlement was found 2-1 in the Alliance's favor, and the planet became Eden Prime, humanity's proof they they were major players in the game of intergalactic colonization.
It's history does nothing to diminish its aesthetic value, though. Outside of the crowded dense population centers, the planet maintains a diverse and sometimes lethally beautiful biosphere that was filled with wonderful species, light and dark.
As this crosses my mind, I notice some weird birds making a formation and flying straight up. Whatever species of bird this is, it's not something that I remember from back on Earth. I sit in awe watching them gain more and more speed...
...at which point I notice that their wings are actually tail fins, their anatomy is strangely mechanical and pointed at one end and they are flying directly toward the transport shuttle; tracking it, in fact. Seconds before the missiles impact, I dive to the ground, shouting a vague warning to anyone who hears me. I don't even know how many people listen when the floor falls from under me.
I open my eyes briefly and wonder if I'm free falling now, since I can only see the sky, still hundreds of feet in the air, but I find out that it's just a gaping hull breach. I flail around and grasp a seat nearby, clutching it as the shuttle unsteadily descends under an increasing hail of gunfire.
I can make out what look like gunships and armored troops on the ground, but that's all I can see before another missile collides with the rear of the ship and shakes me free from my grip. Bullets lodged themselves in the seats and ground around me as I slide down the aisle, propelled by gravity. I can see others, including soldiers, firing weapons even as they free fall to their deaths.
I don't see mine coming, though, because my path slides me right into an uncontrolled collision with a portion of the bulkhead. My skull makes a sickening crack and I feel my body go limp.
The last thing I hear is an explosion before my world shuts off.