Chapter 1: Synthetic Escapade
Disclaimer: Neither Mass Effect nor Karakuridôji Ultimo belongs to me.
Three and a half months after the Port Hanshan Incident...
Location: Noveria; Hollows; near Peak 15.
Reports of combat drizzled through the battle net like rain through forest canopies. Events that happen with such frequency that he barely even noticed most of them anymore, the general urgency veiled by weathered experience. Slow did not like to admit to having such an opinion, but he was relatively fed up with the base hostile shown so wearily often by organic beings and dearly did he wish he had at least one friendly one to exchange words with, for a change of pace.
No such luck here.
"You will die!"
The harsh flanged tone of a wounded soldier just shouted that through the battle net and out the custom omni-tools Legion had made for him. Slow barely even winced as a gunshot cut off the defiant scream, and recognized with lamentation of how wrong that felt.
He sighed sadly, "If I had a credit every time I heard that..."
"You would have thirty-six point five credits, Aspect Slow." Legion flatly told him.
"I meant in a figurative sense, Legion." Slow sighed as he browsed through the tactical assessment of the most far-away situation ongoing, "Twenty soldiers. Five Cabalists. And an IFV, of Seiri Type." he continued thoughtfully. Bad luck for the most recent drop to land so close to an entrenched position. The Consensus sent six squads, a Prime, and an Armature to recover the drop pod's contents... all of them currently pinned down.
Geth did not require his help to formulate an appropriate response, but they listened to his recommendations. Slow used this after he took a quick look on the map of local geography and what information the drones managed to recover, "Legion, there is a weak point in the defensive line by the ravine to the east. I suggest you get the Hoppers in there."
"Covering fire initiated." it imperceptibly provided a nod after a brief pause, "Hoppers redeploying."
Only a minute passed before the desired result came in. Through use of this hole on the organics' defenses, the Hoppers moved in and planted a bomb on the Seiri's undercarriage. Its explosive demise allowed the remaining squads to close in and collapse the position. Once the area was secure, the platoon hurried to recover the wares, and withdrew below ground. Another skirmish was thus concluded.
"Items recovered:" Legion reported promptly, "Sixteen platforms. Reserve parts. Power modules."
No sooner did the troops get below ground before a sphere of destruction embraced the immediate area of the surface, courtesy of an orbital kinetic strike. A bombardment they weren't able to commit to prior to the entrenched position's cessation. Normally done ten minutes after communication's lost rather than this time's five, it was a close one.
Legion followed it up with further input, "Cave ins at four separate locations. Fifty platforms cut off. Recovery in progress."
"And with the three other pickups going smoothly, and twenty firefights proceeding favorably," Slow droned on about the other such minor incursions on the surface and dismissed the haptic auras from his gauntlets with a simple flex, "it's about time for today's main item. How are the preparations for the assault going?"
"Near completion." the geth replied after a brief data-burst. Even though he was practically surrounded by its kind at all times, Legion was pretty much the only talkative one. Geth did not need Command Posts in the traditional sense. All the twenty platforms that surrounded him in this little section of Noveria's expansive network of underground caverns happened to be glorified bodyguards rather than staff. Whole reason for the geth presence being for their collective interest in forging a relationship with his people, along with an understanding of the threat represented by the kurozu... which unfortunate as it is with backup of misguided organics maintained a base in Peak 17. For the whole of these three last months they broke from one network of tunnels to the next, and edged ever closer to the station while the geth from outside the system constantly sent drop pods full of platforms and supplies to bulk up the ground-side standing forces. Most of the pods did not make it thanks to the comprehensive defenses set in place on and around Noveria by Council forces.
Throw enough pods though, and some are bound to make it through.
While not readily obvious, some ten thousand geth platforms now milled purposefully throughout the territory claimed so far. Hopefully enough to beat Peak 17 into a pile of rubble.
Nothing wrong with piling up potential additional advantages though to better guarantee victory. He had a good feeling about their detour to take Peak 15.
"Query:" Legion continued, "We are uncertain as to the gains in this venture, Aspect Slow." Once, the geth insisted on calling him 'Slow-Aspect', which to be perfectly honest sounded all too awkward, so he took pains to correct them.
Slow chuckled as he with his claws combed a little ice from his long dark blue hair, "I don't know either. Only that the secrecy about this lab is riddled with enough red tape to sink a continent."
"Given its relative proximity to Peak 17..." he continued, "that warrants investigation. I'm not going to leave any stone unturned."
It nodded its head, "Understood. Aspect Slow, before we commit: To guarantee mission success, we request for two boons to be provided."
Slow let a flicker of amusement cross him at the expression that was just two steps short of a pious request for a miracle. He flexed an arm to bring its omni-tool back up, "And you shall have it. Provide the materials and I'll see what I can do."
Legion did so, and supplied onto the omni-tool a detailed orbital image of Noveria – soaked with several hundreds of links in regard to ongoing events that the geth data-mined for his benefit. While the Council forces did reinforce their cyber-warfare suites plentifully of late, the geth could still break through like a hammer through cobweb.
In short order he picked up on the details of two particular details as he bodily thrummed with the activation of his Noh Power: Fate Manipulation. First he focused on the fates of a single small comet which orbit of sixty years currently traveled in Noveria's relative neighborhood. According to the codex, this one was a relative newcomer to the system that was picked up by the system's gravitational forces.
Within the next ten hours, its chance to impact Noveria was rated at a mere eight percent. And seventy percent within the next couple of centuries. Long enough for the local authorities to do something about it. Slow decided to nudge it along a little, though such a monumental change would require the spending of a massive amount of energy on his side.
Energy that drained from him as though sucked in by a black hole as he altered the comet's probability of striking the planet. Enough that Slow's posture faltered and he nearly fainted. It seemed fifty percent chance of impact's the best he can do from this distance without Service's assistance as an amplifier.
Slow fell to his knees, and resisted the desire to succumb to the wave of exhaustion that washed over him that instant. Instead he switched onto the next of the selected details, which involved a satellite that would soon intersect the orbit of one of the cruisers recently repositioned to look over this region. Since military matters in some matters currently superseded civilian concerns, the satellite therefore according to the information lent would see its orbit altered.
Compared to the comet, this one was utterly imminent. Thorough as they are, the geth put a time stamp on when there would be a thruster fired, thousands of kilometers distant from the cruiser itself, but minutes away with the velocities involved.
It required much less an expenditure of energy on his part, and Slow quickly altered its fate so that the satellite once it received the signal to fire the thrusters would fail to actually do so because of technical issues brought on by the satellite's relative age. And from that point, Slow watched as the satellite crossed the distance to no doubt the distress of all organics involved and impacted the cruiser before it could speed itself out of the errant satellite's way. The capital ship's kinetic barrier soaked up the brunt of this collision, but enough managed to get through to damage it.
For the next couple of days at least, its main gun would be inoperative.
"It's done." he informed, "Tell the assigned forces to take up position and wait for the next ten hours to pass before operation start."
The synthetic inclined its head, "Affirmative, Aspect Slow."
"Carry me there, would you?" Slow next requested, "I need to sleep for a while... recover my strength." and felt his consciousness slip, but found his slender form cradled in Legion's arms before finally he submerged himself into a sleep without dreams, though a random memory passed along with a small measure of longing.
After more than three months without, he truly did miss the company of other dôji.
Ten hours later...
Location: Noveria; Peak 15.
To say this latest week had been less than optimal would be a grave understatement. First a containment failure that stranded what few people survived it in the hot labs, and now a comet impact. Han Olar did not even need to check what that entailed. Distant as the impact seemed to be, none of the facilities would suffer much in the way of damage thanks to solid construction and kinetic barriers... but most of the roads were doubtlessly washed away by the shock wave.
It made the possibility of rescue all the more difficult, and accordingly prolonged their stay in this place.
Like they did not have enough to worry about, what with the fear of being killed, and the twitchy guards who for the last week kept themselves up all the way by use of stims. Just one snap, and they would be even a greater danger to the lives of surviving personnel than the monsters beyond this little section they secluded themselves in.
As the only volus, a species with zero aptitude for combat, present in this facility, Han Olar felt especially vulnerable – though anything bad that happened to him would be the deserved penance for his earlier abandonment of his late colleague, who was torn to shreds before his very eyes.
His sanity without a doubt compromised, he secreted himself into a corner on the lower floor of the section and simply sat and stared into space as though in a trance. Only interrupted by the quake that the comet impact provoked.
Then an explosion happened in the next room – a glacial tunnel that lead to another lab over yonder. A strong enough blast to make the scientists he shared the space with scream, yell, and flee. All the guards currently on the upper level.
"Odd." Han Olar hummed, nonplussed, as two sets of claws tore into the door that the others fled from, to join them not even a consideration as he calmly watched, "I had no idea the bugs are that strong."
With a scream of tortured metal, the door gave away and allowed entrance to a figure distinctly different from the creatures that ran frenziedly in the hot labs. It was slender, robed, possessive of a long dark blue mane that seemed to waft gently, pale skin, and a pair of gauntlets that vanished into the sleeves of its dark robe.
"Dôji!" a scientist who had previously frozen solid in trepidation broke and dashed for the stairs, "Geth!"
Another colleague who was already halfway up the stairs cried a terrified, "We're all gonna die!"
No one could blame them. Everything that Han Olar was said that he should join them and flee in terror to avoid what seemed like inescapable death under the cold claws and guns of the synthetic menace. Han Olar however simply watched as the dôji walked serenely like it had just come out of a wonderful piece of art to the center of the room and looked over the rows of cots and dirty clothes with a distinct look of bemusement while the geth, a dozen at least, dashed through and positioned themselves at every entrance, except two who put him under their gun-sights.
Really, he should cry out. Scream up a storm.
Instead he simply stared dispassionately at the flashlight-heads in simple resignation.
Either all the facilities on Noveria held the same abysmal standards as Peak 17, or something went seriously wrong here with every outsider none the wiser. Slow was perplexed as he looked on the chamber's desolation, all the dirt and grime on wall and floor alike, and how ragged the scientists who understandably ran were. It looked more like a refugee camp than a laboratory space.
Suddenly the three other platoons that waited for his signal to penetrate the facility seemed wholly unnecessary.
"Aspect Slow." Legion called from where it had run to, "We require your presence."
Slow turned to it, and saw the volus that simply stared back at Legion and the Prime that towered over it. Interest flared and he approached with a thinly veiled smile at the opportunity that just presented itself, "Good eye, Legion... Now go and try and see if you can get something out of this place's data net."
"Affirmative." the synthetic nodded and went to one of the nearest computers and slotted a cable into a receptacle. The Prime on the other hand took up guard position as Slow waved it aside.
Now relatively alone with the volus, he crouched down in front of it. To its credit, the alien simply stared at him dispassionately. "You don't scare easily." Slow tried to break up the ice, "Is it bravery or resignation?"
It sighed, "... The latter. You here to kill me?"
"Not really." the blue-haired dôji folded his claws to illustrate the point, "We're just here to see what this place here is so secretive about."
The volus dryly shrugged, "I see."
"What's your name?"
"... Han Olar."
"My name's Slow." he introduced himself succinctly, "Care to share what's going on here, Han Olar?"
"Guess there's no more point to the secrecy." the volus wheezed, seemingly thoughtful, hard to tell with that pressure suit, "We were researching a find made recently. Some surveyor found a derelict ship from way back in the Rachni War... and inside of it, an egg."
"A Rachni egg." Slow whispered interestedly, "Did you get it to hatch or something?"
"We did." Han Olar confirmed without pride, "A Rachni Queen came out of it. We brought the Rachni back to life... In retrospect, a bad decision."
"Things went wrong."
"Very. It soon began to lay eggs. We tried to take them away from her, to experiment on her children and see if they could be safely turned into biological weapons. That according to one of the others was when all turned bad."
"Considering they were a space faring species according to the galactic codex... fully sapient, and intelligent." Slow pondered verbally, "Your mistake was treating them like animals, I take it."
"An easy mistake to make, as our current situation has proven all too well."
"Obviously." he considered and smiled, "Any idea where this Queen is?"
"Down in the hot labs." Han Olar said, "The guards tried to initiate a neutron purge, but..."
Slow nodded, "Thank you." and pointed to the stairs, "Go to your comrades, and tell them to wait five hours then leave."
The volus seemed to blink, this time in surprise.
"Legion!" Slow called as he pushed himself back up, "I need a map."
The geth's head-light flickered once as it disconnected itself from the computer, "All relevant information has been uploaded."
"Good."
Han Olar looked up at them in quiet disbelief – again, it was hard to tell. "You intend to set up the neutron purge?"
"Not at all." Slow shook his head, not quite able to subdue the his lips' upward quirk, "I intend to give her a way out of here."
Twelve minutes later...
Location: Noveria; Peak 15; Tram Station.
After he let a stunned Han Olar return to his equally isolated compatriots, he led the platoon to the tram station as according to the map Legion uploaded to his omni-tool, from where they would be able to access the Hot Labs. While at it, the steady staccato of gunfire could be heard as firefights erupted sporadically elsewhere in the facility.
It turned out they found a good use for the other platoons after all.
"Status report." Slow called as he motioned to the next room just past the tram station, and found two elevators at the far end. The left-side elevator of which would take them to where they wanted to go.
"First Platoon is at the Computer Core. Attempts to reactivate station VI underway." Legion informed him, "Second Platoon is securing the Tram Controls, will attempt to activate tram once area is clear. Third Platoon, en route to Station Reactor, but faces strong resistance. Estimated breakthrough in six minutes and fifty seconds."
"Very good." Slow hummed in satisfaction as he came to stand before the elevator and pressed a button to summon the contraption, "Reportedly a Rachni Queen's very big, too big for the meager tunnels we dug into the facility. So we're going to have to use the old fashioned exit."
Legion quacked in response, "If the Queen agrees."
"When she agrees."
While the elevator was pretty sizable, only a third of the platform managed to fit in and transfer down to the floor where the neutron purge mechanism was located, which turned out to be a pretty small but open floor that overlooked an underground glacial valley that included a large set of blocks that spanned the small canyon like a bridge.
"Legion, fortify this floor." Slow ordered as he surveyed the area, "Keep the organics upstairs from going down here."
Legion cocked its head, "Affirmative."
"I'll continue on from here alone."
"Negative." the geth disagreed.
"Ain't up for debate, Legion." Slow argued mildly, "This will require some delicacy. I would like to avoid casualties as I approach the Queen, and I can't do that with you in tow."
Legion noticeably hesitated as every geth program on Noveria digested this and built up a consensus on the matter. They very clearly disliked the notion of leaving him without backup, not much unlike most minor dôji. That sort of concern was kind of cute, really.
After a few pregnant moments, the synthetic nodded, "Aspect Slow, return intact."
He smiled, "I will." before he went on to smash a huge opening through the nearest window with a hard backhand and leaped out with arms held high through it. Not once did he consider to fire up his thrusters and let gravity take him toward the laboratory blocks below, and upon arrival caved in the immediate area into a mess of crumpled metal.
Without ado, he flexed his claws and shunted them into the surface and tore enough metal aside to drop himself into the lab, which lights proved to be rather sparse after the abuse this place took during the initial outbreak. What occupied his more immediate attention though was not the damaged state of this place, but the horde of insect-like creatures that immediately homed in on him, both large ones with tentacles that terminated into claws that while clasped together seemed like thick spearheads, and small ones that scuttled across the floor to reach him without once being stepped on by their larger cousins.
While being the most alien of species he's seen so far, the Rachni in a way carried their own form of beauty. He spent a couple seconds to admire the creatures before he burst into action, took a few steps onward, and vaulted across the horde that immediately reared their heads to try and track him. Several tentacles tried to shoot up and grab him by the heels, but failed to quite reach him before he landed on the far side of them and dashed on through before they could come about.
Even with that hurdle cleared, a lot remained before him as he entered a corridor choked with the creatures that all aimed for him.
Slow smirked cheerily at the challenge, "Try to keep up!" and flexed his claws as he gathered power, "Noh Power: Full Throttle!"
Unimpressed by the gesture, the closest Rachni thrust a tentacle at his chest... only to find him gone when it arrived.
With unreal swiftness did Slow spin away from the blow and slipped past the creature, sidestepped to avoid the next attempted strike, ducked to avoid a small creature that hurled itself at his face, raised a foot so another did not run into it. Took another few steps forward and hopped over another warrior, landed softly on the warrior behind it, sprang onto the opposing wall, then with use of it as a spring board jumped to the other before he returned to the floor, moved yet further onward and performed a quick spin that deflected several attempted strikes with his gauntlets.
With use of Fate Manipulation, he gleamed the routes of least resistance and followed them as best as able. It was less a full charge than it was a dance in which every creature in this makeshift hive served as his partners. Slow avoided outright combat with the desire to keep further bloodshed to an absolute minimum as he searched. Hopefully that would convey the right signal.
For several blocks that followed, he performed without pause as though in a trance while the horde that wanted no more than to murder him tried the best they could in turn to overwhelm him. Attempts that even while he bobbed and swayed to avoid most hits the effort eventually did take some toll on him as patches of his clothes got torn or stained by green ichor where attacks did manage to land. But for the most part he managed to prevent being bogged down by the tidal waves of giant insects that persistently tried again and again to corner and pin him in place.
A resistance that grew ever more fierce as he progressed, and estimated the Queen to be somewhere close by. At this point however the Rachni increasingly forced him to apply more forceful methods, and knocked away some among the warriors as they repeatedly closed the gap, undaunted by his rate of progress.
Soon, after another block crossed, finally a frenzied warrior managed to find its mark. Slow found himself launched away as a tentacle struck his chest with every bit the strength required to run an organic through. But he was no organic and was 'merely' thrown through a window. He briefly considered the use of thrusters to return, but found that this large space included both ceiling and walls that ran all around in a large circle.
So instead he let gravity bring him all the way and neatly crouched as he touched down on the floor below, and skidded to a halt.
And was once again surrounded by Rachni. All of these even larger than the warriors that hounded his progress so far. Drones probably, given that this place upon a closer look included a field of eggs... and a massive Rachni at the center that even towered over the drones.
"You must be the Rachni Queen." Slow put on a smile and rose to his full though not considerable height with his claws closely folded into the sleeves of his kimono, similar to how he approached the volus to convey his non-violent intent, and hoped the Queen took the gesture for what it was. "I apologize for this intrusion, but I was unsure on how to otherwise contact you."
For a few seconds she merely stared at him, "What are you?"
The dôji winced at the harsh voices that together uttered those words in eerie synchronicity, and belatedly realized they came from the numerous bodies of scientists that lay along the walls. Whether dead or not, they seemed to be used as the Queen's mouthpieces somehow.
"My name is Slow, I'm a Dôji. We are what the Council species call 'synthetics' – non-organic lifeforms."
"Metal men like those above?"
"They are called Geth." Slow introduced them, suddenly aware of the very distant thuds of gunfire that went on somewhere beyond the floor he left Legion and the others in, "We joined forces recently to combat an insidious force that has taken root on this planet."
"Us?"
"Not you." Slow rejected the very notion, "Why would you even think that?"
"... Our history. Rachni history. Is one of abuse. We remember it all... for we know the memories of those who came before us." the Queen replied with a solemn storm of anger and anguish, "Those not of the Singing Planet have always sought to use us. Tools. Weapons. Animals. The protheans used us as weapons of war! And these," she gestured to the bodies, "sought to do likewise. Never again! If we must embrace the silence once again for our refusal, then so be it! We will not bow again."
He experienced a stroke of realization as he listened, "That's why you attacked the other species back then? You feared they intended to render you slaves?"
"Indeed." she hissed through the many bodies, "What guarantee do we have that you will be any different?!"
The Queen had him there. What kind of words could he use to reasonably convince her that he did not share the aliens' intentions with a history like that. She had no reason to really trust him. Still, he attempted to endeavor to provide a sufficiently compelling answer to her query. One that did not quite make it before the place shuddered.
Location: Noveria; Peak 15; Hot Labs; Top Sub-level.
As instructed, the geth platoon fortified the floor as much as the number of platforms allowed. Sufficient for the amount of space to frustrate any effort to reach the room in the rear that held the hot labs' fail-safe, the Neutron Purge. Slow entrusted its defense to them, and to their utmost ability it would be defended accordingly to fit the responsibility.
With the constant exchange of intelligence between the platoons spread throughout the facility, the geth were as confident as non-feeling organics could be. They were ready for anything so to speak.
Anything but what came along next as an object abruptly smashed its way into the facility from somewhere above. No geth knew what it was, only that it's large and burrowed through the floors fast like fish through water. It was too fast for any unit to intercept, and broke through to the hot labs in short order.
Ultimately the geth could only watch as it alongside many tons of debris it had liberated from the facility and glacier proper plunged toward the laboratory blocks below, utterly helpless in their ability to stop it.
Location: Noveria; Peak 15; Hot Labs; Rachni Hive.
Centuries of experience told Slow what was about to happen. An all too localized quake followed by steep silence – broken only by the anticipative shrieks of many warriors – that shattered into outright pandemonium as something huge crashed into the laboratory blocks with enough momentum to mildly bend the place, followed by a robotic cry so deep and terrible it instilled a primal fear into many of the Rachni present.
Slow recognized its like all too well and grimly spread his claws.
It had landed in the adjacent lab, and the wall that separated them broke and was torn away like so many single sheets of paper as the intruder forced its way through. At first what emerged seemed to be little more than a matte black orb, until it unfolded itself like a hedgehog and with powerful legs stood up in full as a giant warrior twenty feet in height, its outer shell arrayed as curved shields that slid aside to reveal a mass of arms that bristled with makeshift weaponry like drills and savage saws. Its stout head with nine optics that all flickered out of turn gazed at those assembled before it and rumbled with clear menace.
One of the Kurozu's powerful Avatars... Deus ex Machina.
Author notes: Finally it's here, the third entry to the Robophobia Saga. Sorry it took so long, but I had to redo the starting chapters three times to find the start I felt satisfied with.
Now onto the chapter. I debated on whether to start with how things are progressing on Noveria, and decided to include the Rachni into the mix, with a slightly altered backstory for them... which proved easy enough. Considering all the times they ended up being used by outside forces in the games, one could say Rachni History truly is one of repeated abuse. So to make sure it never happened again, they fought to the death during the Rachni War rather than submit.