Mass Evil
If Star Trek can have an alternate, evil universe, then so can Mass Effect. Welcome to the alternate universe, where it's not just Shepard that's renegade... it's the entire Human race.
Slightly humorous, mainly darkish sci-fi action/adventure. Rating: M. Graphic violence and sexual situations.
Hello thar. Now firstly, I apologize if I get some details wrong... I don't even know if the Turians call their planet Turia, nor whether the Hierarchy has a single, monolithic leader, like an Archon or Emperor. Secondly, I OWN NOTHING. Except for the characters I created specifically for this story. I don't believe I need to say any more than that. Lastly, the idea for this story was based on the Star Trek Enterprise Episode "In A Mirror, Darkly". In fact I'm listening to it right now... to give me "inspiration"... for EVIL. Muahahahahaha... OK enough of this faggotry... on with the story!
Turia
Late 2157 CE - First Contact War
Endgame
Humans. Archon Kollos could smell their scent, their stink, like a rotten mala fruit. How had it come to this? What happened to the Council envoys sent to parley with these aggressors?
Three, no four... twenty Human commandos had sniped, killed, and beat their way through the remains of his demoralized regiment, while he was... wallowing in self-pity. Unbecoming of a Turian, nevertheless he had always been prone to certain swings of emotion. And he was the last custodian of Turian civilization. His personal guards reeked of the fear-scent, as, he was sure, did he.
The Humans began to surround the Archon and his security detail. Others secured the area. No escape now. Have to face the enemy, like a dutiful soldier. He would do what he must to preserve his race.
"Your orders, Archon", requested a younger sentinel.
If the Council would not or could not negotiate, he would. Not exactly a glorious death, but...
"Your orders, Archon..." requested the same guardian, more urgently. Death closed in around them.
"Lay down your arms. Now."
A pause. The clanking of metal on stone floor.
Get down. Show submission. Make yourself a non-threat.
A Human, who had been hidden behind the vanguard, stepped forward, lightly shoving others out of his way. All their faces were obscured by the contrast of the light coming in from the ajar palace doors into the darker entrance hall, but Kollos could see even then that their uniforms incorporated stolen and reverse-engineered Turian equipment. If there was one thing of note regarding humans, other than their aggression and ruthlessness, it was their skill with adapting foreign technology. A disgrace! That Turian engineering could engineer the downfall of its creators.
Commander David Anderson removed his helmet. Looking down at the pathetic life-form that had kneeled in submission, he unholstered a device, which many of the marines, though unacquainted with technology not developed for combat, recognized as a human-developed reverse-engineered auto-translator. He held it up, expectantly. The pathetic life-form on the ground said something.
"iiiKorchlos asss Tmurakha iii eeemrach tmitar iii. Ghnggeae.."
Andersons eyes shifted from the Turian to the translator. This foul, hissing language disgusted him at best. He looked forward to the day when someone else took over the interrogations.
"Submissively, I Kollos, Turian Hierarch, surrender the Empire. Emphatically, have mercy."
The small device went back on Anderson's belt. It was replaced by a pistol.
He aimed it at the Archon's head.
"Surrender this." Gunshot.
...
"Uh, sir, your last line didn't entirely make sense."
"Shut up, Johnson."
In the year 2148, explorers on Mars discovered the remains of an ancient spacefaring civilization. In the decades that followed, only the mysterious new technologies yielded from these remains protected Humanity from alien aggressors. Fighting their way across the galaxy, the brave Systems Alliance warriors conquered the aggressors, and in a daring tactical manoeuvre, captured the capital of a galactic civilization encompassing thousands of light-years and tens of species.
We Humans call it Eden Prime.
The inferior races call it... the Citadel.
Long Live the Alliance.
Linguistic analysis:
iiiKorchlos asss Tmurakha iii eeemrach tmitar iii. Ghnggeae.
SUBMISSIVEKollos 1SG SUB Empire surrender SUB. .EMPHATIC.
Submissive sentences are laced with the shrill "iii" phoneme (sounding like a cross between a meow and nails on chalk), denoting, of course, submission. Ghggeae is derived from the nominative gggi, "have mercy" (a gurgling, growling sound). The "m" and "n" sounding phonemes in certain words denote the speaker's status as Archon. It is a style of speech reserved only for the highest members of society.