I own Cass Abenex and Gnaeus Quntillius, all else to Bioware
A/N...
Hoo boy, am I AUing the hell outta this
Warning: fighting, death, and AUness
Commander Gnaeus Quntillius sneers over at the human platform called Shepard. Attached to the platform is a set of hard, white armor. The crest of the Collective—which is two hands, one organic and one synthetic, clasped in the symbol of unity—rests on the upper left breast. In the hands of the platform is a standard human rifle, as white as the rest of Shepards' outfit. The Turian commander had heard rumors about the Collective's weapons. Turning to Shepard, he clears his throat before speaking. "Shepard, is it true that the Collective does not use ammunition in the traditional sense?"
The platform turns its head to the Turian, nodding quickly. "Yes. The Collective uses standard ammunition for other projects, so weapons have been developed that fire lasers at a high velocity. But they are still in the experimental stage. This platform has access to such weapons to test." Shepard motions to the buildings of Eden Prime before them. "The Collective believes that this is as good a time as any to conduct tests." Shepard smirks before flipping a switch on the rifle, switching on the device. A low hum can be heard around the rifle.
Harumping, Gnaeus turns to look at the Salarian companion. Dr. Mordin Solus nods back at the Commander, checking his pistol and rifle. "Interesting. Human technology more advance than realized. Must make notes if we survive." Mordin sniffs. "Day already looking up."
Gnaeus groans, rubbing his head to stall the migraine. Gripping his rifle, he turns back to Shepard. "Alright, platform, you're on point. This is your town." Hearing footsteps behind him, Gnaeus turns his head to find the Spectre Nihlus looking at the trio with a bemused look on his face. Gnaeus inclines his head. "Nihlus will be going ahead of us to conduct his own mission for the Council."
Nihlus nods at the group. "Shepard. It is good to finally meet you, although I wish it was under better circumstances."
Shepard nods its head at Nihlus. "Spectre. This platform has not met you personally, but it does know of you, as you have met with other members of the Collective. Still, it is glad to finally meet you."
Nihlus smirks, his mandibles twitching. "I'll catch up with you later." Nihlus inclines his head before running off ahead. Just moments later, Shepard and the others head off to the large spires of Eden Prime. The green grass leading up to the town complex contrasts greatly with the harsh grey of the concrete, steel, and glass. Large spires jut out of the ground, stretching hundreds of miles into the air. Inside the towers hold hundreds of thousands of individual charging pods where members of the Collective recharge their synthetic bodies. And just beside these technological monstrosities sit playgrounds, parks, and smaller houses more akin to cottages in the countryside.
"Shepard," Mordin calls out, pointing to the cottages. "Why the contrasting architecture? Smaller homes provide what purpose? Remnants of former occupants?"
"No, Dr. Solus," Shepard says. "The smaller homes are for the reproducing members of the Collective. Our studies have indicated that it is cruel to children to raise them in the Spires. They need room to run and grow. They need to have the sunlight on their skin and feel the dirt under their nails. Active children are happy children."
"And it's not cruel to raise children in an environment where there is the constant reminder of what they'll become?" Gnaeus spits at Shepard.
"Is it cruel to raise children around their family, Commander?" Shepard sneers this at Gnaeus.
Gnaeus stops and turns to Shepard. He points one of his talons at him, staring into his gold eyes. "Not all families are worth joining," he hisses before turning on his heel and heading back into the action. Wave after wave of Geth come at the trio as they step over dead and inactive members of the Collective. Next to the group, one of the cottages burns and the smell of charred corpses hangs in the air. In the distance, a large black ship rockets off the planet, exiting into the cold vacuum of space above.
Nihlus bounds up the platform, heading for the tram that leads to the Prothean dig site. He raises his weapon, sweeping the area as he dives behind a metal crate. Peering around the crate, Nihlus raises his pistol, approaching the lone figure standing before him. The other turns and Nihlus is greeted with his mentor, Saren. "Saren!" He lowers his pistol, comforted and confused by the friendly sight. "What are you doing here?"
Saren turns, an odd look coming into his eyes. "The Council determined that you needed more help and so I graciously volunteered."
Nihlus nods his head, slipping his pistol into his holder. "Thank the Spirits. The situation is bad here. The Geth are overrunning Collective forces." Nihlus explains to Saren, as his mentor turns and pulls out his pistol, coming up behind his student and friend.
"It's alright, Nihlus. Everything is under control." Saren says soothingly. He raises the pistol to Nihlus' head. His talon curls around the trigger and just as he is about to kill the Spectre before him, a voice shouts out in protest.
A dockworker jumps up from out of cover and begins to yell. "Spectre Nihlus! Saren is going to kill you!" At hearing these words, Nihlus turns and smacks the weapon out of Sarens' hands. Snarling, Saren throws a punch, to which Nihlus counters. The two Spectres fight, each punching or kicking the other. Saren head-butts Nihlus, staggering his student, giving him time to dive for the gun. Saren fires several rounds into the dockworker, killing the human. Saren turns back to Nihlus. "This ends now, Nihlus!"
Nihlus grips Sarens' arm, pushing the pistol into the air, as Saren fires. Pressed close, Nihlus head-butts his teacher, trying to throw him off balance. But, as if filled with some unholy spirit, Saren shrugs off his attack and struggles over the pistol, trying desperately to lower it and kill his student. Slowly, inch by inch, Saren begins to lower the pistol. A wide grin nearly splits his face in two. But before he can complete his master's will, a new voice rings out.
"Spectre Saren," Shepard shouts, raising its laser rifle. "Lower your pistol and surrender!"
Snarling in rage, Saren pushes Nihlus to the side and goes to fire at his student. "This is not how it was supposed to happen!"
With lightening reflexes due only to its robotic body, Shepard fires its rifle, shooting the pistol out of Saren's hand. "You are disarmed, Saren. Lay down or this platform will make you!"
Huffing in rage, Saren stands rigid. His hands rest at his side and his eyes shift around. He looks at the human platform in front to him, to the Turian commander at his right, to his student, Nihlus at his left, and finally to the Salarian taking up a position on his flank. Slowly, Saren raises his hands and goes to his knees. "I guess you win this round, human," he whispers softly. He interlocks his talons behind his head, bowing his head as Nihlus cuffs his former teacher.
Gnaeus and Mordin come out from their positions to keep their weapons trained on Saren. Nihlus approaches Shepard with a look of gratitude on his face. "Shepard. Thank the Spirits you came when you did. A little longer and I might not be here."
Shepard smiles and inclines its head. "It was Powell that alerted this platform to your trouble," it says, motioning to the dead human. "But this platform is happy to serve."
Gnaeus places a talon to his ear, listening to the communication system. Growling, he pulls his gun off of Saren and stomps over to Shepard and Nihlus. "Platform," he hisses. "Didn't your Collective say that a sect of organic humans was just a rumor?"
Shepard nods its head. "Yes, they are a rumor."
"Well, your rumor just sent us a message." Gnaeus pulls out a small data pad and presses a button to activate the holo-transceiver. The video begins to play.
On the screen an organic human stands solemnly. Behind him the vastness of empty space stretches outwards. The human is clothed in a royal blue vest with gold trimmings. His head is bald, save for a tight crew cut of black hair and his hands are bare save a wedding ring. His right breast is covered in medals and decorations of military performance. "Greetings to the Galaxy. My name is Admiral David Anderson and I represent the last free, organic humans uncontrolled by the vicious and vile AI called Adam.
"In 2046, Eric Milderson became the first victim of a rouge and dangerous AI called Adam. The machine took over Milderson, and forced him to uplink Adam's matrix onto the internet, where it infected the globe. Robots hunted humans in the streets and forced children to live in cages until they came of age to be assimilated. Any human who fought back or resisted was killed. My ancestors fought a long war against these machines and were forced into a tactical retreat in 2049, fleeing into our colony ships.
"Eventually we settled in a new home and plotted our return to free mankind from the grips of the collectivist machine and to restore individuality. That time has come. With other children who have fled the home world and raids against Collective worlds, we have reversed engineered their technology. And, as I speak this to you, human warships are bombarding Collective worlds, fighting our way back to Earth and the center of Adam. Humanity once flew too close to the Sun and we burned out our wings. We let technology run rampant and it destroyed us. But Cerberus stands ready avenge humanity and free them of the control of Adam.
"And to all other peoples in the Galaxy: either join us against the Collective or get out of our way. And if you would dare to help those robots who play at being organic, then you would be considered an enemy of humanity and treated as such. For the glory of the Human Race and the destruction of Adam!" The video cuts out and a Cerberus warship warps into the skies above Eden Prime.
Looking up from the data pad and onto the warship firing at the town below it, Shepard seems to sigh heavily. "Well . . . shit," it mumbles under its 'breath'.
