I feel like people is missing the concept here. I'm open to reviews and critics, but those regarding how I write or mistakes I've made. All reviews trying to correct my divergence from what is considered canon in either W40k and ME universes, are completely unnecesary. I know how long someone, specially a stormtrooper, tends to live in the W40k universe; I know Inquisitors have a tendency of dying of unnatural causes, like assassination; I know the Imperium is a xenophobic state where almost everything alien is destroyed immediately, often without being studied first; I know most of my OC's equipment sounds outlandish and "doesn't make any sense" and "makes him look supercool awesome etc.". All I'm going to say about all but the last item I mentioned, is that this is still a fictional story within an equally fictional universe, two of them actually; I've purposedly altered what some things are and how they function so that they fit the story a little better, namely the Pariah gene. As for my OC's equipment, I cannot explain much without spoiling my plans for this story, but bear in mind that he is 500 years old AND was an inquisitorial stormtrooper, so try to step out of what W40k lore says a little bit, and imagine just what someone intelligent, immortal could do in a position like that.
Last, but not least, and it pains me to say it: if you find that you HAVE to be lore-nazis (patent pending) even when reading a FANFICTION (which by definition strays from the main path marked by canon and franchise owners to better fit the desires and imagination of the fan or fans that write and read it) then you can simply un-follow and/or un-favorite, if you did any of those before, and simply quit reading. All I can say is that this IS a serious story, and I intend to take into account reader's reviews, but this won't be lore-friendly in all aspects.
Well, here it is. Chapter 2. A few hours early release this time.
Expect more dialogue, but it's a must if I'm to set the plot for the chapters to follow. No new reviews this time, except one regarding Chapter 1 that has already been addressed.
As for this chapter, I bet my life on it that some Warhammer 40k will take issue on the topic of the prosthetic arm and it's material. To those, let me tell you, that in W40k CANON, Primarch Ferrus Manus had both arms affected by a similar incident than my character in this story, after fighting a creature during his youth, that turned out to be Necron in origin.
That being said, I won't hold you any longer. Enjoy.
"I can build a working las-weapon."
The sudden silence that has risen in the room makes me wonder if I somehow broke their minds with that statement. Pretty feeble they turned out to be, if that's the case. Out of all the things they could've expected me to say, are prepared for, I wager that was not one of them. I have to thread carefully from now on, because if I give too much information too fast, I may end up on a medical bed en route to a forceful intel extraction directly from my brain matter and implants. And that never ended up well for the subject, even with the Inquisition's nigh miraculous medicine.
"What?" That's all the impossibly talkative Elui can ask, and I fear I just turned him into some form of monosyllabic entity. The equally impossibly intense stare he is directing at me, however, speaks of a myriad of questions and calculations taking place at the same time in his hyperactive brain.
"What you heard. I can build a working las-weapon. GIve me some duct tape, wiring, a flashlight, translucent glasses, and a battery of, say, an electric shave or even better, an automatic screwdriver. In five minutes you will have one." I basically gave them a shopping list; should have added something to eat, I'm starving.
"It is not possible for it to take such simple things, let alone a short time to build. You are bluffing." Careful, curiosity killed the cat.
"I'm NOT bluffing." I totally am, heh. Turns out it's not that easy to construct a laser weapon. Sure, the materials are enough, and I can build a gun out of them, at least a jury-rigged, last resort one. However a key ingredient for it to work properly would still be missing, and that one is the one that takes longer. A machine spirit, or virtual intelligence if you will. I am qualified to create one, however it takes far longer than just five minutes. Should I need to prove my words, I will use a fragment of my armors machine spirit to operate the weapon for the time being. Emperor knows I've done it before...
"As for the question regarding the materials in my arm, the answer is not that simple. The original prosthetic was a custom imperial arm, designed and modified to my specifications. A privilege only officers and nobles can access, much to the common soldier's bad fortune. Eventually, an incident caused it to be forcibly modified by a material known as necrodermis in my universe. It is essentially a living metal, capable of regenerating itself even when facing catastrophic damage. That's the scan-proof material you can't get through." They better not try and take my arm away for studying.
"A regenerating metal? How is that possible? You must give me the details of it's functio-"
"Can't do. How it works is something I still cannot figure out, no matter how much I try. This is technology designed by an alien species millions of years before mankind first came into existence. It's ridiculously advanced, and poking-proof." Hopefully that will keep them at bay. I actually know how it works, with the nanites and all, however it's already too much for me to give them the laser technology. This galaxy, for what I've learned so far, is not ready for the advancements that come hand in hand with necrodermis.
"A pitty. Yet that only means we will have to take samples of it for studies of our own. But that can be discussed at another time. The captain will take over again now." At that, Elui moved aside and returned to his original position on the sidelines. A visibly annoyed Chenkov took a seat in front of me once more.
"You are testing our patience and good will." Good will? What? "All you have said so far is unbelievable and outlandish. Not possible, not even when considering what technological capabilities the Imperium of Man has. You have a choice to make now, Martinez, if that is really your name. You can either cut the bullshit and start being truthful, or you can keep up and force our hand into more... persuasive manners. Your call." Torture already on the table? You shouldn't show your game so fast mate.
"I think you are not taking the whole picture into consideration. What could I possibly gain by lying? As far as I know, it's not only my freedom what is at stake here, but my life as well. You said it yourself, there is no Imperium nor Emperor; there is no point in withholding information: you cannot betray what doesn't exist." Hopefully they will "cut the bullshit" themselves and start being more welcoming, as I haven't really lied to them so far. If anything, their thoughtful expressions are a good sign.
"Until today, we hadn't come across an Imperial who was this calm and collected the very first day they arrived, not even those that ultimately turned out to be peaceful and fully cooperative."
"I'm not the most average imperial you can come across, so that's that. I can be your friend and help you, or be your enemy and make your life a living hell, quite literally; it all depends on how you treat me, since I have no desire of facing trouble. You came into this room with your ass out and expected me to give it a french kiss, tongue and all, just because you demanded. That's not how you treat someone who is supposed to give information. Now, you want me to cooperate? How about we apply the ping-pong technique? One question each. Also, please, I need something to eat and drink, I'm not a robot." I'm surprised they let me talk this much, but they are probably rethinking their approach. The part about the food may have been over the line, though.
A few seconds pass in silence, during which they are probably expecting for an affirmative or negative response from the big fishes on the other side of the not-wall. At last, Chenkov brings his hand to a loving touch with his ear, no doubt a comm device in between, to receive an answer. What will it be? Door number 1 has torture and useless pain; door number 2 has food and a comfortable talk; choose wisely.
"My CO has given green light to both the ping-pong and the meal. Do you have anything in particular to ask for? Perhaps a three dish meal accompanied by our best wine and a couple of female servants to serve you during and after you ate? Those can be women, men, or one of each, you know." Really, disdain again? What do I look like, a stick-up-my-ass noble?
"Tempting as that offer may be, a simple sandwich and water will be enough. I'm not one to indulge myself in luxuries often, let alone in such an unusual situation. I reckon that would be overstepping my place way too much. But please, did anyone actually asked for something of the like?"
"Not asked, demanded. The guy thought very highly of himself, boasting title, rank and name as if we should know who he was. We put him in his place, and he toned it down. Like him, we've had a few other interactions like that; for some reason, to hear demands for commodities while being soaked by hatred and wishes of swift death for us, is a lot more disturbing than only the hatred and death wishes."
"Yes, nobles and high ranking officers tend to be that in over their heads. Unfortunately for the common imperial, there was no other way around it other than doing their bidding, and hoping someone would come to aid them. There is something not entirely related to that, that has been bugging me since I got here. How long have you been receiving imperials here, and do you have any idea as to how or why this happens?" Time for the real questions to be answered; culture, technology, everything else can wait for a later time.
"It started out of nowhere about 5 standard years ago. A sudden surge of energy on the surface of a planet made us send an investigation team, and the reports were of a madman, human, in an unknown pattern of armor attacking bare-handed the research team, specially humans. He managed to kill two people after he disarmed a guard, and before they could knock him out; xenophobic people we had dealt with before, but that armor and the unintelligible language he was speaking sparked our utmost curiosity. What we learned through that man somewhat prepared us for the following arrivals, leading up to this point. So far, out of the thousand or so imperials that we know have arrived, at least a hundred proved too violent on-site and had to be eliminated then and there. Of the remaining, a majority have adapted and some are living peaceful lives, integrated with society; the rest, imprisoned in the name of safety of others. And we estimate there is an unknown number of imperials that we never knew they arrived, so their status is also unknown." Clearly Chenkov has changed his mind about me, otherwise he wouldn't be that straightforward or cooperative. But he didn't answer the how or the why. I bet Elui may have an answer about that.
"The how and the why, if there is a why to begin with, continue to elude us. The energy signatures that are detected upon the imminent arrival of someone from your universe are signaled as mass effect singularities, yet there is no recoverable evidence every time we scan the arrival sites, which are random and never repeat. More intriguing is the fact that biotics can detect these energies from large distances, depending on their training and genetics; never before has a similar situation been recorded, except if a biotic is in physical contact with the mass effect generator, be it an object or a person." It is a shame I can't really bet with someone else, I would be killing it. Yet, what he just said is both fascinating and troublesome. Psykers tend to be problematic, if not handled correctly.
"Perhaps it's a longshot, but has any imperial spoken about psykers?"
"Only in passing. They seem to be able to wield powers not unlike those of the biotics, plus they can read minds and things like that, drawing their power from a sub-dimension called the Warp. So far, no one has been able to give us an accurate description of them, nor has any arrived here, that we know of. Do you have any information regarding them that can clarify things?"
"I have some information about them, but the details are for another conversation. The Warp, or Immaterium, however, I suppose could give some form of explanation about how this arrivals are happening. Since the Warp is immensely vast and unpredictable, I believe it's possible for the Immaterium to be the means the imperial are somehow utilizing to get here. And I cannot speak for the rest of the... visitors, let's call them that, but for my case, there is a why, because the only way for me to go through the Warp is with the intervention of some massively powerful entity, and those always have a reason to do something." I do not want to talk about myself, but if I'm getting anything out of them, I have to give them something.
"So, according to you, the sub-dimension that gives power to psykers is responsible for the universe-jumping. Is it something that is done willingly or is more by chance?"
"Unless the subject in question is a psyker with certain level of sensibility and training, there is no way they can manipulate the forces of the Warp in such a way to be transported to a different universe, assuming it is possible to do so. Events regarding the Immaterium can normally be divided between intentional and accidental in a 60-40% ratio respectively, the intentional kind not moving much higher only because the Warp itself has certain resistance to large-scale change. However, if both our universes' timelines are in sync, then the generalized turmoil across my Milky Way meant the Warp saw more movement than usual in the past century, enhancing possibilities of random, rare events taking place, such as this one."
"What did you mean when you said that your case in particular would need input from a powerful entity to take place?" The asari asked. Here it comes.
"In my universe, I'm what is known as a Pariah. The name is just an accurate description of the effects my condition has on myself, not what it actually means to be a Pariah. We are also known as Soulless, for the fact that in the eyes of the rest of sentient beings in the universe, we have no soul. Only effect it has on normal people is a feeling of wrongness coming from me, causing increasing paranoia and terror, and the sense of me being unnatural, therefore it causes unwanted aggression and hatred because people destroy what scares them. On psykers, being in the presence of a Soulless one causes physical pain, and physical contact may prove fatal to them. The most important feature of a Pariah, is that we are nigh-immune to warp powers, lest they come from an extremely powerful being or source; with our presence alone we can nullify the passive effects of the Immaterium on the normal realm, like the mutation of organic and inorganic matter, bringing everything to normality within the range of our aura. I'm among the very rare Omega-minus Pariahs, the most powerful ones that happen to exist, and because of that and my age, I can actually hide my condition; it makes life easier for me."Wow, and I thought they couldn't get any more tense...
The shock in some faces was evident, although certain asari's face quickly turned into distrust and annoyance. And it's understandable, given how religious her species is; if I were her, I would find the concept of a soulless being ridiculous and impossible just like she does right now. Then again, if I'm right and biotics are not-yet-fully-realized psykers, the lack of effect her powers will show against me should be proof enough.
"So you don't have a soul, that's what you are saying? How is that possible?" The inevitable question came, and it's time I put to rest some incorrect ideas before they even spawn.
"Common belief says that no, Pariahs don't have souls. But that's a misunderstanding, born from the experiences of psykers, who only see a hole where my soul should be, and then spread mouth to mouth and report to report across the systems. The average folk has no actual way of telling apart a Pariah from a psyker or non-psyker, other than the unnatural aura we generate, so they trust what psykers say, which is not correct. The truth is, that I have a soul, only not in the conventional way; the best explanation I can give is that souls resonate in a certain range of frequencies, and a Pariah's soul resonates in a frequency that opposes the range commonly found in other souls. That means that we have no access to the Warp, and are mostly immune to it. A very powerful entity, say a Greater Daemon or even a God, can summon enough psyker energy to temporarily cancel out the negative resonance of my soul, making me susceptible to their effects; I speak from experience, so that could explain how I came through the Warp and ended out here." So much more that I could give them, considering all I studied the past centuries, but this will have to do, for now.
My words have clearly spiked T'kajin's interest, but I presume it's the sinister kind of interest, given her somber look. She is probably deciding how to test me, how to prove me wrong perhaps? What do we have here? My Machine Spirit has been pinging me for some time now, but I didn't give that any thought; I guess now is as good a time as any to look what it has for me. After all, everyone in the room seems to be in deep thought, so I have at least a minute to do so.
[Analysis on "mass effect fields" and "biotics" completed. Source: newly acquired footage and data, cross-referenced with owned "psyker" files. Results: inconclusive, requires further study. Observations: energy emissions from "element zero" and "mass effect fields" consistent 80% with Immaterium energy. "Biotic" powers consistent 90% with determined forms of psyker powers, mainly those regarding manipulation of objects mass and telekinesis. Final conclusion (pending future analysis): "biotics" are a form of psykers.]
Well, there's a confirmation of my theory. That means most biotics, if not all, won't be able to affect me; yet there is a problem: the most common weapons in this universe will not work properly, if at all, when wielded by me, given their eezo-based mechanics. I'll have to either get my hands on some old, conventional auto-rifle, or fulfill my plans and build laser weaponry. Luckily for me, they are not mutually exclusive.
"Food is here." Chenkov suddenly brought me out of my reflections, with great news. I'm starving, but I have to keep composed and keep form; discipline and etiquette are the signs of an officer, and crucial for making a good impression. Not that it really matters right now, mind you.
"You said that Pariahs are hated and shunned by most of society. That has to have given you trouble at some point in your... astonishingly long life." That pause while you thought a proper word was NOT an exercise on subtlety, Elui. And boy do I have a few stories about that...
"That I know of, I'm the only case of acquired Pariah condition; normally, it's a situation that manifests itself as the pregnancy advances, so the subjects are born with this condition, and it happens randomly, apparently. What is not random, is that the more powerful or "negative" the Soulless is, the less chances they have to reach adulthood. A mother that is about to give birth to an Omega-minus Pariah like me, would already know something is "wrong" with her child even a month before birth, and normally by the time of birth of such a strong Untouchable, the mother has already harbored enough hatred and disgust to terminate the life of the baby as soon as it is out of the womb, that is, if she didn't terminate the pregnancy before reaching term. Less powerful, hence less detectable, Pariahs, usually are abandoned at a very young age by their families, and shunned by all society, turning them into actual pariahs, and often turn into criminals and evil-doers, fulfilling the role the society unknowingly forces upon them." Unless they are caught at birth or young age by the Culexus Temple; that is a fate I would not want anyone to reach, but so many times was it too useful to be disbanded.
"Pariahs are therefore doomed to an existence of horror and loneliness. What a terrible fate indeed, I pity them. Yet you did not answer his question regarding your experiences as a Pariah. Is it a touchy subject for you?" Chenkov, are you showing a soft side?
"Perhaps at the beginning it was, what with the feeling of emptiness and the unprovoked aggression from my peers, caused by the fear and paranoia that I unwillingly spawned in them. It was short-lived, however, for only a year after my becoming of a Pariah I met my mentor, Inquisitor Tavirius Golini, then the most promising acolyte of his own mentor, another Inquisitor. The events that followed forged an unbreakable bond between us, that lasted until his death by old age. He was wise beyond his age, and helped me immeasurably to find my center and become the man I am today. I've withstood insults and unwarranted aggression from those I considered allies, and until recent years I have been alone even when in a crowd. Only reason my shunning and my longevity haven't driven me insane so far, is that I've found that despite the human mind is not developed to last as long as mine has without augmentation, if I keep it sharp and dynamic, through studying for example, I will remain more than stable."
As I finished my speech I noticed that my interrogators gave a slight head tilt towards their right sides, where I assume their comm devices are located. I think, then, that judgement has been made. Just in case aggression is about to take place, I prime my hidden blade so as to deploy it on a moments notice. From the second they joined me in this room, I've been analyzing them, trying to notice any weaknesses that I could exploit should the need arises, and marking a priority queue to organize myself while dispatching them. The krogan and batarian behind me, weapons drawn, are my top priority, not only for the weapons, but also for the size of the krogan. A backhanded strike from my prosthetic arm, with the disruption field activated, should be enough to take him, or her, out of commission, followed by a left hook to the batarian's head and a knee to the groin. Use him as a meat shield as the rest draw their weapons and open fire while I approach, going first for the salarian, who is the closest one; test firearm on him, if not useful then break legs and disarm, and throw the batarian over Chenkov. The asari will try biotics on me, with high chances of failure; if successful, then I'm dead. Capitalize on the surprise of the failed mass effects, to shove my blade in her neck, and return to the Captain to disarm, incapacitate, and take as hostage. Will wing it from there.
"Well, as...enlightening as this conversation is being, we have been ordered to cut it short and leave you be, for now. We will more than likely return later today, so as to carry on where we left. If not, someone will be sent to escort you to a holding cell and provide more sustenance. Enjoy your meal." Well, that was somewhat disappointing. After spending so long sitting, I was itching for movement, and a close combat situation would have been the best warm-up. Wouldn't have enjoyed striking my new friends down, though.
Just like that, they stand and leave the room, and my isolated self, locked up. I guess time for a good reading is coming up; I believe the biotic-psyker connection warrants more study. But first, I should check if the data extracted form the quarian's omni-tool holds any information regarding electrical and mechanical components of commonly found devices in this universe. Will need that list if I expect to build a lasgun sooner or later. Aaand I just realized I didn't get to ask as much as they did; fantastic.
A thundering blast and a tremor coursing through the room startled me awake. Clearly I fell asleep as I was reading about this new universe, and my Machine Spirit confirms that indeed I was sleeping for around an hour. Paying close attention to what may be happening outside, I start recognizing sounds and vibrations.
A full blown battle outside, explosions and all.
This base is under attack, by whom and why is something I will have to find out later. For now, I'm content with focusing on what the door lets through; for what I can hear, it's getting closer. As a matter of fact, it sounds right outside this room, and I bet someone will try to get in here. I hate being right. Whoever is on the other side has started to cut through the door, so it's a safe bet to say they are NOT Council troops. I only hope they are not hostile towards me. That would be a bummer.
Finally, the door is fully cut open, and falls over with a shove from the outside. Six or seven beings, an asari leading them, come through, suited in yellow with black details full body armor. Quick look into my files shows that this guys are Eclipse mercenaries, one of the triad of most powerful and renowned mercenary groups in the known galaxy, with myriad of crimes on their name. Charming.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? An imperial, for what I can see. And impressively built as well! My, my, he even comes with armor included. This is our lucky day boys, he will be worth his weight in gold in the Batarian markets! Smith, subdue him." The asari had a deceptively enticing voice, but the venom in her words are badly concealed to my ears. At her order, someone human-looking stepped forward with a pistol in one hand and what appears to be an opened, metallic collar. And now it's sinking in what she meant and what this people are.
Slavers. Fucking slavers. Guess I'll be getting that fight I was itching for, after all. AND I WILL ENJOY IT.
Well, that is it for today. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter, and that it was up to your expectations. I promise, next chapter WILL have less talk and more action. Until then, have a nice week!
