Just Built Different
For those wandering, the "chapter update" a few days ago was just me deleting the "Alternate AU Spider-Max" omake chapter.
Author's note: If Tevos seemed a little weak minded in the previous chapter then that's entirely my own fault. I have no idea how to write her character and just decided to use her as the "panicked" member of the group (I am aware that Asari are typically strong minded). Also my abysmal update time is because of and not limited to: writer's block, being distracted by reading other fanfics, forgetting to write, and many others. I often find myself stopping suddenly while writing in the middle of a sentence and unable to come up with anything for days or even weeks at a time. (Remember when chapter 2 came out a week after the first? Yeah that was pretty great.) The chapter ends at around 6 thousand and 8 hundred words but I tried to make up for it by adding a little something after the end to give a slightly more concrete view of the galaxy that I have envisioned. (It also brings it up to the 8k words per-chapter goal that I have set for myself)
Chapter 5: Brain damage
Max stood straight as he made a final set of adjustments to his appearance. He ran a hand lightly over his combed hair, straightened his jacket and tie, and rubbed at his freshly shaven jaw.
As he did so, Max recalled the events that took place earlier.
"Do you trust me?" He held out a small shot sized glass full of purple liquid.
Kurdon gave it a hard stare before turning his cold reptilian gaze towards Max. "After what you said back there, I'm not so sure anymore." Despite his words he took the glass anyway. He moved it in such a way that it caused the purple fluid inside to whirl around. After a moment of consideration, and a sigh, he downed the whole thing. He swished it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. "Eugh." He stuck his tongue out in disgust. "What's that nasty ass taste?"
"Grape, Kurdon. I made it grape flavored. Believe me if I hadn't done that it would taste significantly more bitter."
Kurdon ran the top of his tongue against the teeth of his upper jaw in an attempt to scrape the flavoring off. "How long until I'm cured?"
"If my calculations are correct, and they always are, about three to four hours time depending on your body's capacity to expel viruses." Max put a comforting hand on the Krogan's shoulder. "Don't worry Kurdon. Soon you and your race will be saved. You'll be able to reproduce safely again."
Could he have handled that situation batter? Yes, he could have. But he had no idea what came over him that cause the truth to fall out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to admit that he pretty much didn't care about them.
"You're not helping us because you want to."
"No."
He held a hand to the side of his head in a fruitless attempt to hold down the pain that had occasionally been appearing there.
Maybe he actually had been mentally effected by the cryogenic process.
Max groaned. Great. Just great. Just another thing to fix later. Just another problem to straighten out. He may be durable but even he can't be frozen for five and a half centuries without something being damaged.
He wondered if he should just let it heal naturally or if he should intervene and do it himself. Although if he had a hand in putting his brain back together he ran the risk of making himself even smarter.
Wouldn't want to make things too easy now would we.
But still.
The others. His hirees.
He used them, yeah, but Max honestly didn't know why they were so upset. They're mercenaries. Soldiers of fortune. Guns for hire. Test subjects. That's all they were. Why were they so disconsolate when they realized he was just using them?
They didn't actually care about him did they? They didn't actually think he cared for them did they?
Obviously they developed some kind of emotional attachment to him.
...
Wait.
What is this?
Why was he thinking like this?
Why was his mind trying to make emotion sound like a foreign concept?
He's not like this.
He shook his head to clear everything out.
That frozen dirt nap really did a number on me.
"Max, are you alright?"
"I am fine, BT." Actually... "BT, can you prepare the med-bay for me later?" Oh yeah, he almost forgot. "And tell the alternate BT that I'll go see him after."
His friend didn't respond immediately. "Of course...Max."
Ding*
The elevator doors opened, revealing a set of fine italian oak wood doors wide enough for two of him to walk through with elbow room. He stepped out onto the crimson carpet that made up the entirety of the floor. Such high end decor was complimented by the carved marble that filled out the rest of the room.
The paintings of him here and there only added to the beauty of the place.
Max approached the oak doors as he cracked his neck and steeled his face, it's boss time now. "Show time."
He pushed open both heavy doors, one with each hand. On the other side was a much larger version of the room he came from, completed with paintings and statues of himself in each corner.
Some would say that with all of the artwork of him laying around everywhere there was a chance that he was quite possibly self obsessed.
He couldn't see it.
At the center of the floor was a large decorated redwood table surrounded by equally expensive looking chairs. And each chair was occupied.
Sitting at the table was every top ranking alpha level member of the company. The representatives of the stocks and shareholders. The big decision makers.
The Board of Directors. The Oh-Five Council.
The one wing in the entire company that held power over him.
Or so they thought.
Max walked quietly along the side, consciously ignoring the atmosphere of the room as every Board member silently watched. He approached the chair at the very end of the table, facing towards the others and keeping it's back to the enormous window that overlooked the city. It was, for lack of a better description, a throne. Gold accents accompanied by red velvet padding effectively made it seem like it came straight from a castle in europe during the medieval ages.
After five and a half centuries of never being sat in, it probably felt like a rock.
Upon sitting down he discovered his assessment was unfortunately right.
If he was a regular sized human it would seem more like a noticeably oversized single couch rather than an actual chair. But with as big as he was it was just right. The golden arches at the top of the backrest stopped only a foot above his head, the armrests were positioned in correspondence with the dimensions of his arms, and the seat sat at a height where -had he not grown those extra 2 inches- his feet could be planted flat on the floor without his knees being raised.
It was perfectly designed for his body. Any other human would look like a child in it.
His spine straightened against the backrest as he placed his fourarms on the armrests. His gaze swept over everyone before him. All fifty of them.
Some would say that such a large number of Board members was excessive. But for a company like Barrett Industries it's necessary. As a company not only is it the largest but it is also the most profitable in the galaxy. Supplying not just all of humanity but also The Alliance, a conjoined military force made up of both humans and ex-Covenant species. Understandably a company of such an enormous magnitude needs many branches and even more employees. Not to mention the three dozen planets his company owns purely for the purpose of material supply alone.
Back to the topic at hand. Most of the Board members sitting before him represented a large branch and a portion of the company. The rest were for stockholders and other boring things that were supposedly "vital for the company".
In other words, they're all completely useless to him.
"Goddamn." Max shifted in his seat. "This is the most uncomfortable fucking thing I've ever sat on."
The Board members glanced warily between each other, several of whom released equally cagey chuckles.
Every single one of them was old. Wrinkles, gray hair, and even baldness was a staple here.
I thought they cured baldness?
"Gentlemen."
The Board each sat up slightly straighter.
"It is with a prodigious amount of exuberance that I announce my return to Barrett Industries."
Silence followed in the wake of his words. The only reaction he received was one of the members slowly raising his hands to clap.
Max's cold hard stare put a stop to it before it could begin.
"I am tremendously proud in the growth of my company. The numerous contracts from both the American government and it's military has allowed us to expand so quickly that in just four years we have risen to be not only one of the largest companies in the world but also one of the top ten retailers on the planet. This, as expected, effectively made Barrett Industries the fastest growing company in human history."
They did not react. They're eyes stared on in silent judgement.
"Then, a mere five years after my disappearance, we overtake Amazon and Walmart as the largest retailer on Earth with over sixty thousand stores world wide and acquiring a net-worth of five hundred billion. Five years later, we overshadow America itself, and the world to an extent, as an economic superpower unlike anything humanity has ever seen."
Most people would probably claim such a thing to be impossible to do in such a small handful of years. BT, on the other hand, is an intellectual master of corporate manipulation. Selling everything at their actual value, unlike some companies, while simultaneously providing his own company with everything it needs to make said items and making a fortune was quite simple. Monopolizing most of the Earth's industrial workforce would do that.
He allowed a small smile to crack across his face.
"And thus my dream of building the first true mega-corporation like from those books about a dystopian civilization controlled by a super sized company has come true!"
He resisted the urge to throw his hands in the air and scream in joy.
And of course there was the minor detail that Barrett Industries almost singlehandedly spearheaded humanity's campaign into the stars and beyond.
For colonization and business purposes of course. More people means more spent money.
In this day and age there was almost nothing that humanity used that doesn't have a Barrett Industries logo on it.
"Congratulations are in order. With my reinstatement as head of the company we will expand our industry to the rest of the galaxy and enter another financial golden age that which will surpass the early years of the company's existence."
Smiles and quiet murmuring broke out among the table.
They seemed happy.
Time to ruin their adorable little moment.
"And when I say 'we' I mean 'me' because you're all fired."
A hushed confusion ran through the room.
A chuckle.
Sitting at the opposite end of the massive table was Charles Moore. Otherwise known as the Chairman of the Board. The Top Dog. The absolute highest power of the Directors. He was the only one at the table besides Max who still has at least a few strands of slicked back hair that wasn't gray. The tiny little upturn of the ends of his lips accompanied by the twinkle in his eyes foretold everything Max already knew was coming.
Clearly he thought this situation amusing.
And that Max was probably incompetent.
Oh you poor wizened child.
"I am not entirely sure how you managed to get so far with this company," Charles began, one of his wrinkled eye brows raised in obvious mirth. "-but it has become clear to me that you have absolutely no idea how the world works."
Max remained silent, his face the epitome of impassiveness.
Charles Moore leaned forward and brought his hands together on the table, his fingers interlocked. "The CEO holds no power over the Board, quite the opposite in fact. We can reappoint you. You work for us. At the end of the day you are the employee and we are the boss."
For several tense seconds everything was quiet. The lesser members of the Board glanced between their Chairman and the Chief Executive Officer.
"That's cute." Max finally broke his mask of blankness. "If you're done with your adorable little villain speel then I'd like to say that you are by far the most stereotypical 'evil chairman' character I have ever seen. On that note I couldn't help but notice a flaw in your logic. Under normal circumstances, sure, the CEO wouldn't have any ground on the Board in a large company, especially one as gi-fucking-gantic as this one. But these aren't normal circumstances. The one with the most power is always the one who possesses the controlling interest."
"And that would be us. The Board of Directors owns over ninety percent of the company."
"Au contraire mon frere. As of a few minutes ago, on the elevator, I have bought out the entirety of our stock. We are no longer a public company, we are privatizing immediately after this meeting."
Charles Moore squared his jaw as his face progressively became more and more red. "That's impossible! Barrett Industries is the most lavish company in the galaxy. Nobody, let alone you, could possibly have enough money to simply buy it out!"
"And that's where your wrong. Did you think my bank account was stagnant all these years? I was already one of the richest people alive back in my time but now I am easily the most wealthy man in the galaxy. Increasing interest and a constant inflow of an ever growing income over the course of five and a half centuries can do that. I own most of humanity's fortune and almost no one knows that except for a few very obvious exceptions."
Max made a show of moving his chair back and propping his expensive dress shoes on the table, one on top of the other, and folding his arms behind his head. "But I digress. The subject at hand is that you are all no longer employed at this lavish company. But don't worry, you're positions in this company's many wings and branches will be filled by your beneficiary. And I assure all of you, he is more than capable of running everything by himself. He is everything you are and significantly more. Say 'hi', BT."
"Hello everyone." The AI's deep, rumbling voice filtered into the room through hidden speakers, causing several Board members to nearly jump out of their chairs. Max, on the other hand, had felt a delightful shiver run up his spine. "I am BT-7274, the Artificial Intelligence created by Max Barrett. I will be your replacement as manager of each wing and branch of Barrett Industries."
"BT is the most advanced technological achievement in recorded human history. His only rival in the entire galaxy is the Forerunners' technology."
"Thank you, Max. I have been updating regularly since your time away."
"All these years-" Max's eyes bored holes into Moore's. "-BT has been the big decision maker of this company while I was away. All the generations of Directors that have worked here have barely done anything. All their disicions influenced by BT or completely ignored all together. All of they're knowledge of the company, it's branches and wings, and other inner workings has come from him. They knew only what he wanted them to know, including you, so that he could run Barrett Industries his way. And it is because of that we are where we are today."
Max's smile became a mocking smirk. "In other words, the Board of Directors has been nothing more to this company than a mascot. A figurehead. The face of the franchise as to appease the masses so no one suspects anything is amiss."
The 'masses' obviously being the entirety of humanity. But this is the twenty sixth century. No one, or at least most, will care or even bat an eyelash upon learning that the largest company in the galaxy has been ran by an AI for the last five and a half centuries. Back in his time humanity will have definitely cared enough to stage a revolt, which was exactly why it had to stay on the down low.
"This is ridiculous!" Almost every Board member stood from their chair, affronted by the latest proceedings and yelling their displeasure.
"What I find ridiculous is how old all of you are." He pulled his feet off the table. "I mean, Jesus Christ. I know you have to have a lot of experience to be a Board member but damn." He made a show of looking over them with slight disgust. "I didn't know you had to be a senior citizen to be accepted. Did the job application say you had to have seventy years of experience? Did it say that the average life expectancy of a Board member was only a handful of years?"
"That's enough, Mr. Barrett!"
Max's eyes met Charles'. "You're absolutely right. This-" he gestured with both hands towards everyone around him. "-has gone on long enough. It's time for all of you to leave."
The other man scoffed before typing a command into his omnitool. Moments later a surge of security bots burst into the room through the doorway. When they stopped they stood in perfect formation in two rows, one on each side of the table.
Max noted silently to himself that they all looked suspiciously like the spectre automated infantry bots from Titanfall2. The only difference being that these ones were more advanced looking with rounded armor and an overall sleeker design. Their weapons, if Max was guessing correctly, were hidden in various locations across their bodies. A 'main gun' within the forearms ready to replace the hands in the blink of an eye and turrets primed to pop out of the shoulders if need be.
Yet another difference from his reality. The security bots he made were the super battle droids from Star Wars.
"Apprehend him!"
Max was the only one not taken by surprise when the security bots each grabbed a Board member. Shouts of indignation filled the room as they were roughly lifted from they're chairs and into a standing position, they're hands pulled together harshly behind they're backs.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Charles shouted. "Unhand us at once!"
Max watched with an amused smile as he stood up. He walked to the side and gestured for the bot holding Charles to bring him over. "You know-" He began, taking a moment to straighten his suit as the other man was harshly pushed in front of him. "-I've always held a deep love for my company. And no matter how big and old she becomes she will always be my baby. She will always belong to me and there is no one out there that can change that."
He reached over and adjusted Charlse' suit jacket and tie, all the while smiling and making direct eye contact. "You, and everyone else that came before, never once had a chance of taking this company from me. For as long as my good friend, BT, remains online he, Barrett Industries, and everything else I made will remain loyal solely to me." He added the final touches by brushing nonexistent dust off of the left shoulder. His hand, after he was finished, was left where it was. His fingers gave the man a gentle squeeze. "You see, Charles Moore, you-" Max paused and scoffed. "-well, no one can replace me. I am irreplaceable. Inestimable. Inimitable. Matchless. Peerless. Unequaled. And as far as anyone should be concerned I am God's gift to humanity."
Charles stared into his eyes. His stance straight as a statue and his face just as unflinching. He took a deep breath and leaned forward. "You know-" He began, a glare overtaking his face. "-I can read people too. It's how I got this job. You may have everyone else fooled but I can see throught your act. You're not a kind man, you're a cruel man. You act generous but you want nothing more than to take. But more than anything, you are by far the most arrogant, egotistical bastard I have ever seen." He leaned back into his previous upright position. "And I cannot wait to watch your downfall."
Max smiled. "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed." His hand dropped to his side. "If I survive long enough to see my own downfall then, trust me, it will be well after you turn to dust." He half shrugged as a smug look crossed his face. "Security is gonna rough you up a bit on the way out." He nodded to the Spectre droid.
Charles was promptly shoved around and lead out the door with everyone else, leaving Max alone in the well lavished room.
He felt a small wetness under his nose.
He wiped at it.
...
Oh...
Blood...
"I believe it's time I went to the infirmary."
--
Max released a sigh as he stood up, the machine once encircling his head moving back in place against the wall. "Alright, what's the damage?" Considering the symptoms so far he already was almost entirely sure what was wrong.
Didn't hurt to he completely sure though.
"Your brain possesses several injuries. All of them are non-lethal but they are grievous enough to effect your mental condition. The damage your limbic system and amygdala suffered has impaired your ability to perceive and process emotions."
"Why do I feel like that's not all of it?"
"The hippocampus and neocortex are also injured. Those combined with your amygdala and you effectively have possible memory-loss."
"...oh."
"The damage to your neocortex also presents possible loss of sensory perception, motor control, and spacial reasoning."
Max sighed in annoyance. "Goddamn it."
"As well as-"
"I get it, BT." Max rubbed at his head. "My brain is all kinds of fucked up right now. Fuck, there's probably not a single area of it that's not..."
And he lost his train of thought. Great.
Probably his cerebrum.
This is quite a new experience though. He's never once had a thought process grind to a halt that abruptly before. "This doesn't feel right. This feels wrong." The smartest guy around shouldn't have fucking brain damage.
He rubbed both hands down his face and released an exasperated sigh into his palms. "Just another fucking thing to fix."
"How do you expect us to trust you if all you did was exploit us?"
Max raised an eyebrow at the male Quarian, the alien's lean arms crossed over his suited chest. Standing behind him was half of Max's hirees. "You were exploiting me too. You were told that I was going to make a buff-up for your immune system and pay you for your time. All you had to do was be here and do nothing and you will be paid and your entire species gets fixed. Where exactly is this disservice you're trying so hard to claim I committed against you?"
Max stilled as the memory flashed through his mind.
He didn't remember that.
When did that happen?
...
Oh no...
He's already losing his mind.
What else did he not remember? What else has he done that his injured mind can't recall? Will they have consequences? He sure as fuck hoped not.
Just then another lost memory came flying by. This one containing him and a Turian, a female, in an alleyway. Her limbs were wrapped around him as he had her pressed back first into one of the alley walls. Her moans filled his ear as she dug her face into his neck and shoulder, desperately trying to ground her scent into him.
Huh. Apparently he made a pit-stop half way to his apartment after he left the hospital.
He turned and sniffed. Eugh. It's faint but he can very much smell her. Thankfully she wasn't just some hooker. It was the inner ring of the Citadel, that and the expensive looking dress she was wearing was everything he needed to know that he didn't commit an act of solicitation of prostitution.
Wait.
Was he losing his memories or was he having spontaneous blackouts?
Simply losing his memories was preferable. At least then he could make an accurate prediction of what he did. But blackouts...
God only knows how base and instinctual he becomes. How murderous and bloodthirsty.
Or sexually driven judging by that memory.
The last time he blacked out he...
His muscles were tense and hands clenched into tight fists. The blood made sure that not an inch of skin was visible between the tips of his fingers and halfway up his fourarms. Lying at his feet were the headless corpses of two bear cubs...
"Max?"
He perked up. "Sora?" He got off the table and spun around, facing the Quarian with a smile. "Is there something you need?"
The woman's eyes glanced over at the machine behind the table before going back to Max. "Is everything ok?"
Shit. Of course she would figure out what was going on here.
"Yup, everything's fine." He walked over and flamboyantly waved a hand over his head. "Just a very minor, tiny, insignificant case of serious brain damage. Nothing to worry about." He continued on by and opened the door. "As it turns out, being improperly frozen for five and a half centuries can break even the hardiest of men."
The door slowly closed behind him. His footsteps caused a low echo that, quite honestly, was slightly annoying. The only brightside to this is that he no longer had to fake being mentally impaired by the cryo-stasis like he originally intended.
Time to meet the alternate BT.
As he walked his mind drifted back over to the memory of the alleyway. If this was a fanfic then railing that random Turian woman is not only going to come up again sometime in the future but it will also be the cause of a serious problem.
Thankfully this isn't.
--
The massive metal doors closed behind him with a soft ker-klunk. The room was bathed in blue and white lights. The latter coming from the ceiling.
And the former coming from the enormous AI central processor cortex sitting in the middle of the floor.
The huge glowing machine took up a good half of the available space within the room by itself, and that's without counting the great many tubes and wires varying in sizes and colors going in and coming out if it.
Max's back straightened. The nearly overwhelming feeling of a higher being casting it's enlightening gaze down upon him took him by surprise for a moment. He had to remind himself that, considering the things he is capable of intelligence-wise, he practically is a higher being himself.
"So, which is my BT?"
"That would be me, Max."
"And I am the one from this universe."
Their voices were identical. The same in every possible way. Neither was a single octave higher or lower and their tone patterns held no difference. The only real way to tell them apart is that the alternate BT's core glowed slightly brighter for a split second with every word.
And yet, without it, he can still identify which was which.
It was strange, he couldn't really describe it. It was one of those times where you just "know it when you heard it".
There was an explanation behind this. It was just a matter of what.
But that can wait for later.
"Can I call you BT-two? I feel that it will just relieve us of the confusion of identities later down the line."
For a brief moment the only sound in the room was the quiet humming of the AI core. Max took the silence of the other as a gesture of rolling his figurative eyes rather than consideration of his question. Which, if he's anything like his BT, then it definitely was.
"Of course, Max. I have no problem with any name you give me."
Max smiled. It seems that, no matter the universe, BT will always accept what he asks of him. "Do you mind giving me a quick rundown on this galaxy's history? I would like to know how a universe can support the existence of both Halo and Mass Effect." Max paused for a moment. "You have been informed on the dynamics of my reality, right? About the whole Halo and Mass Effect being video games?"
"Yes, Max. Your BT has informed me of this and many other things the moment you arrived. And I would not mind providing you an explanation."
--
His hands were dirty. Each finger and palm covered in grease, engine oil, and ancient gasoline that immediately began evaporating upon being freed from it's metal imprisonment. The carburetor he held in his hands had just been finished being disassembled down to it's individual pieces. "BT, what's the air fuel ratio with the current set up?"
"The current configuration yields a ratio of fourteen point fifty six to one. I'm afraid various parts of the carburetor, especially the jets, have been eroded away from the many years of noncycling gasoline and thus causing an unnecessary increase of fuel flow."
Max checked and sure enough he discovered that over half of the carburetor parts looked like they had a run in with acid. "Looks like we're going to need the works here. Do you mind firing up the automated fabricator and making me replacement parts?" He hummed for a moment, thinking. "And let's lower the jet size. Fourteen seven is gonna be a little lean, so let's bring it down to fourteen sixty five."
"Of course, Max."
He collected all the parts laying on the table and proceeded to dump them in the metal-recycler in the back of the room. The metal will be automatically sorted by their material and repurposed for different things. Whether it be for the automated fabricator or something else. Very little of anything goes to waste here.
Two hours later and he was just finishing putting back together the now rebuilt engine. It was currently suspended over the open engine compartment of the Bel Air by one of the tentacle-like mechanical arms that hung from the ceiling. That was when she decided to walk in.
"Max?"
His left ear twitched at her voice. How does she keep finding him? "Sora."
"I just..." she paused for a moment, unsure how to phrase her sentence. "...wanted to see what you were doing?" There was a slight accidental tone rise at the last word, suggesting that it was more of a question than a statement.
Max hid a smile as it clicked in his mind, immediately figuring out her inner turmoil. "Oh you know. Just fixing my car. The usual."
"Oh."
The mechanical tentacle, that looked an awful lot like Doc Oc's mechanical arms from Sam Raimi's Spiderman 2, lowered the engine into place as Sora's footsteps approached from behind. Max had to fight the urge to turn and grin at her when she stepped up beside him.
The lustrous curves of her body was most distracting.
"So-" She began, looking over the mode of transport. "-this is a ground transport from your time?"
" Ground transport." Max repeated with a smile. "That implies it's a military vehicle. This is what we prefer to call a regular car. But to answer your question, not exactly." Max explained. "It's a nineteen fifty seven Chevy Bel Air. It was built fourty three years before I was born. But yes it was relatively near 'my time'." He reached in and began fastening the engine into place.
"And those?"
He looked over and smiled. "Those are motorcycles. Two wheelers with engines." He pulled back and wiped his hands with a rag before standing and walking over to the aforementioned items of interest. "This-" He gestured to the one on the left. "-is a twenty twenty Kawasaki H2 Ninja. I specially ordered it directly from Kawasaki and requested it be redesigned to fit my body's weight and size. I never got to ride it though because of..." He paused briefly before turning to Sora. "Well, you know. The accident."
The Quarian nodded. "I've read about what happened. How...how did you survive that?"
Max smirked. "Put simply, I am quite durable."
"No human should have been able to survive being crushed by thirty thousand pounds except for Spartans. And that's only if they're in their ridiculous power armor."
Max shrugged at her. "I guess I'm just built different." He turned back towards the bikes. "Anyway. This-" He gestured to the one on the left. "-is a nineteen ninety eight Kawasaki ZX11 Ninja. It was my father's dream bike when he was still around." His face fell somewhat. "I...I never got to give it to him."
Max felt Sora place a comforting hand on his shoulder, thumb slowly caressing him. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a good man."
"He was." He paused. "And he was a good teacher too. I'm the smartest human to ever live and I still found myself learning things from him throughout my life." Max smiled down at Sora. "What about you? You got any kids?"
The Quarian's smile was almost visible through her visor. "I do. A boy. I would have liked to have another but..well..I'm assuming you are aware of the Flotilla's laws on reproduction?"
"I am."
Sora hummed in thought. "He would be about twenty one years old by now. Probably out on his own pilgrimage somewhere in the galaxy. I..." She stopped, her head lowering. "I haven't talked to him since...since I left the Flotilla to be a mercenary. Which was about..." Sora's head dropped further. "...Sixteen years ago."
This time it was Max's turn to comfort her. "I'm sure he's ok, Sora. The galaxy is a harsh place but a crafty enough Quarian should do just fine."
Sora placed her hand over the much larger one that had been gently placed on her shoulder, squeezing it as deep worry for her offspring filled her being. But she pushed it all away for now. Sora turned her head towards Max's. "Tell me more about your family."
The human's face instantly fell into a mildly annoyed look that, thankfully, wasn't aimed at her. "Oh. Well... my parents are pretty normal all things considered. But my extended family is full of fucking weirdos. One time, during a family reunion when I was fourteen, I accidentally walked in on two of my female cousins scissoring each other. And it's times like this that I really wished my memory wasn't as near-flawless as it is."
Awhile later Max was once more standing by his Bel Air as he watched Sora walk out of the room. His eyes trailed over her form. Her back, her legs, and finally her very well shaped ass. His view, unfortunately, was cut off when the door closed behind her. And thus Max was left alone in the room, accompanied only by the smell of gasoline and grease.
"BT, do me a favor and find Sora's son, please."
"Of course, Max."
--
"And here we are!" Max held his arms out wide, palms facing the ceiling. The lights dotting the upper half of the room lighting up the largest chamber in his underground laboratory.
"By the gods!" He heard a voice exclaim behind him. "What is that thing?"
"This-" Max began, gesturing towards the gargantuan object that filled a significant portion of the even larger room. "-is The Massive Junior. A ship I've been working on in the past." He turned to the others. "I designed it myself but a considerable portion of it is inspired by The Massive from Invader Zim. Which..is actually much larger than the one I've built. About half the Earth's diameter if I'm remembering correctly."
" Fuck." One of the Krogans muttered underbreath with wide eyes, still staring up at the colossal ship.
"I am in personal possession of one of the largest ships in the galaxy. Beaten only by the Long Night of Solace and Sublime Transcendence." Max paused before a grin overtook his face. "Then again, I guess you could say that I possess the largest ship in the galaxy as they were both destroyed before the war ended."
"How..." One of the Quarians scratched at his helmet, momentarily forgetting it's presence as he struggled to wrap his head around the sheer size of both the room and the ship. "How did you manage to displace this much dirt and stone and build this room without anyone noticing?"
"It wasn't easy. But you'd be surprised what humans won't notice if you don't say anything. Besides we're a good mile away from the city anyway." Max turned back towards the humongous vessel. "Speaking of distances. It's kind of hard to see from where we are but if you look closely enough you can see the other end of the ship aaaallllll the way down there, about nineteen miles down that way." Max had gestured down the length of the room and, true to his word, both the end of the ship and a wall was seen very very far away.
"A ship this large cannot possibly be manned by one person. Who exactly do you plan to fill the crew roster with?" A female Quarian asked.
There was a slight twinge in his brain, the left half of his face twitched along with it, effectively distracting him as he scratched at his head. "Actually the crew will be completely automated by robots and other such things controlled by BT. He has more than enough processing power to handle a full crew of some tens of thousands."
Silence met his words. And far too late he realized his mistake.
"BT?"
Damn his injured mind.
"Alright now look." He turned back to the others, his hands partially up in mock surrender. "I know that sounds bad but I-"
"You had an AI the whole time?!"
The Quarians were visibly tense. Their stances slightly wide as some of them held their hands near the weapons strapped to various places on their bodies. The Krogans, on the other hand, looked just as alert except their aggressiveness was aimed squarely on the Quarians.
'Protect the guy that's paying you' seems to be a general consensus between all Krogans it seems...and generally any mercenary being payed...wait...
"How long were you going to keep this from us?!"
Max rolled his eyes and released a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat. "Who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do with my technology?" They had absolutely no right to be so loutish about his decisions. Especially after what he's done for them. "I trust my tech even if it has a mind and a personality. Something your ancestors should have done. Maybe then you'd still have a home world." Off to the side he could see Kurdon grinning complacency at the Quarians, one hand propped on the folded shotgun magnetized to his thigh armor.
Amused, are you?
One of the males stepped forward, fists clenched tightly by his sides. He was just tall enough to where the top of his helmet reached Max's massive pecs. A finger was jabbed harshly into his chest. "And who are you to judge us for what we, as a species, have lost?! Our home world was taken from us by those murderous machines!"
A much larger finger was rammed into the Quarian's chest, forcing him to stubble backwards. "They were defending themselves like anyone else would. They fought back until the threat to their existence was dead or gone. Everyone knows the Quarians started that war after all."
"Defending themselves?! They killed almost our entire population!"
"And that could have been avoided if your ancestors either one, didn't attack them for what most people would tell you was an incredibly weak reason. Or two, evacuated the planet earlier."
"They were going to attack us first if we didn't do something!"
"You don't know that! I've read the records, your ancestors raged war within hours of that geth unit asking if it had a soul! They were still peaceful! They only took up arms after you started shooting!"
"They-!" The Quarian paused, the rage he felt making his form shake. "-they committed genocide against us!"
" After you tried to commit genocide against them! Face it, there is nothing you can say to put yourself in a good light!" Max took a deep breath and rubbed at his face. "And your missing the point. There is no moral high ground in this situation because your both in the wrong. You tried to wipe them out when you realized they gained sentience and they killed off most of your people and took your planet. I'm not saying that they're totally without fault, I'm just saying that your people are arguably almost as guilty and it would be completely asinine to believe for even a second that your ancestors hadn't played a role in what happened to your species. You can't just place all the blame of all the bad things that happened on the Geth."
Without warning the left half of his face twitched before spreading to the rest a moment later. His stance relaxed and straightened as a kind smile overtook his lips. "And with that positive thought in mind, I'd like to introduce you to someone whom I deeply care for. Say 'Hi', BT."
"Hello. I am BT-7274, the artificial intelligence created by Max Barrett. It is a pleasure to meet you."
His BT.
The voice echoed throughout the huge room, filling it with reverberation that slightly stung Max's naturally enhanced ears. "BT is the most advanced and most powerful computer program in the galaxy. His only rivals are exclusively that of the Forerunners. And they're dead so...yeah." Max coughed into his fist. "And he's not the only AI here. BT has two older brothers."
Subject: Max Barrett (New updated info)
Species: Meta-Human
Age: Physically: 22, Actually: 584
Height: 7' 2" (218.44 cm)
Health: 87/100 (Due to a number of reasons relating to the imperfect cryogenic process, Max's mind is currently in a "fractured" state. Symptoms include and are not limited to: Memory loss, blackouts, personality disorders, and a possible dissociative identity disorder. (During a 'blackout' he supposedly becomes a different person as evidenced by the Turian woman he shared sexual relations with in a dingy alleyway.) However, despite his new mental handicaps his intelligence has seen no evident nose dive.)
Intelligence: Unknown/10
Strength: Unknown/10
Durability: 20/10
Speed: 15/10
Weaknesses: Bodies of liquid deep enough to drown in. Inner bodily functions are almost as easily prone to damage as a normal human's (i.e. wrong blood type transfusion). Attraction to Sangheili and a fear for Mgalekgolo.
Notes: Die Young is still his guilty pleasure song.
End 5th entry.
...
Establishing connection to historical records...
Ancient history:
700,000 - 1,000,000 years ago: Several hundred thousand to a million or more years ago, a galaxy wide war of unknown duration between the Reapers and an unknown second party (Possibly more. If going by Halo lore the Precursors might have been involved in someway.) came to an end when a peace treaty was signed (merely a plossible theory due to later evidence). The condition of this peace was decided with the galaxy being split into two equal and fractured "halves". The Reapers get one "half" of the galaxy while the second (and possibly more) party(ies) get the other. (Note that the galaxy is not divided into two perfect halves but rather eight specific large territories in seemingly random places in the galaxy. The 'Reaper Half' possesses all the areas needed to remain at least mostly canon complient with game lore with the 'Halo half' doing virtually the same thing. Mass Relays exist almost exclusively in the 'Reaper Half' with just one being left behind in the 'Halo Half', possibly in violation of the peace treaty.)
50,000 - 700,000 years ago: The two individual "halves" of the galaxy live separately and in peace for hundreds of thousands of years with many intelligent races and empires rising and falling before fading into history. Residents of each "half" are totally and completely incapable of reaching or communicating between eachother due to the "metaphysical galactic border" that acts as the invisible "wall" between each "half". Signals that would otherwise reach into the other's territory never breach the "wall", effectively protecting the existence of the galactic division from the occupiers of each "half" and insuring their ignorance (the party(ies) involved in the peace treaty have long since been dead). The Forerunners, a massively powerful empire spamming a considerable portion of their "half" of the galaxy, begin to suspect the existence of the galactic division upon theorizing that there are too few natural radio signals emitted from distant stars in certain areas of the galaxy. Mapping out this anomaly on a galaxy chart reveals that there are signal "blackouts" in gargantuan portions throughout half the galaxy. Attempts to research this anomoly is abandoned when growing concerns for the Forerunner-Flood War overtake every other precedent. Following the lore almost exactly as it was written, the Forerunners perform a last ditch effort to stop the Flood menace by activating the Halo rings, throwing the Forerunners into extinction as The Flood goes into hiding.
Recent history:
February 2525: A human ship encounters Kig-Yar missionary vessel, the Minor Transgression, and promptly gets boarded and raided. This is humanity's first encounter with not only intelligent alien life but also the Covenant.
February 2525 - December 2552: The Human-Covenant War killed off 23 billion humans, over half of their population throughout the 'Halo Half' of the galaxy. The Great Schism, instigated by the Holy Prophets of the Covenant, rips the Covenant apart from the inside out. This coupled with the Sangheili teaming up with the humans gave humanity all the edge it needed to put an end to the war.
December 2552 - May 2557: Humans and Sangheili work together to rebuild what was lost on both sides. Tensions slowly ebb away from between the two species as they steadily learn to trust each other. The singular Mass Relay in the 'Halo Half' is discovered by a human exploration team. Research into it's technology is quickly underway.
February 2558: Reverse engineering the Mass Relay technology was quick with the assistance of the Sangheili and other ex-Covenant species. The first ship is sent through the relay on the first day of February and immediately attacked by an unknown alien ship upon leaving the assisted slip space stream. And thus the beginning of a short month long conflict between the Turians and humans. While the humans proved to be the overwhelming dominant force in space battles, on foot the Turians showed off their superior capabilities in the forms of technology and tactics. Their kinetic shields quickly revealed that the human's chemical propellant weaponry to be even less effective against than the plasma shields used by the Covenant troops before being reverse engineered for their own uses. The Sangheili, determined to prove themselves worthy of being allies with, quickly swooped in with their plasma-based weaponry and made short work of the invading Turian forces on the nearby planet.
The humans are theirs. And they will not tolerate any threat to them.
The Citadel Council, upon learning of what was going on, came sweeping in and ended the conflict between the races. The rivalry between the Turians, humans, and Sangheili, with which the humans and Sangheili typically teamed up, never seemed to die down even after 26 years.
March 2558 - January 2584: The rivalry, over the course of nearly 26 years, served to boost the trust between humans and Sangheili. Relations between them improve to the point that they, as well as a great many of each of the other ex-Covenant races, have what could be considered their own galactic community. This, of course, does not sit well with the Citadel Council. Seeing it as a potential rival of galactic power despite the fact that their power and influence not only doesn't reach over to the 'Halo Half' of the galaxy but it doesn't even cover much space in their own half. (Note that the 'metaphysical galactic border' deteriorated immediately following the activation of the mass relay hidden in the 'Halo Half'. The 'wall' in question turned out to be some form of subatomic quantum particles manipulated into a border that not only blocked signals from entering the wrong territory but to also 'warp' the signals to the opposite end of the territory, allowing the signals to be intercepted by the ships and planets they were supposed to be recieved by. It was put there, theoretically, by the Reapers and what ever empire(s) they originally made a truce with.) Over all that time there have been social, political, and cultural conflicts between the 'Halo Half' and the 'Mass Effect Half' of the galaxy. But it isn't until Max Barrett, humanity's greatest mind from the early 21st century, is found to be alive that humans finally find the slight edge they needed over the aliens. Unfortunately for them, Max's loyalty to humanity is shockingly nonexistent and isn't at all inclined to help anyone but himself and, possibly, a few aliens.
Disconnecting from historical records...
There will be a Christmas omake chapter starring an alternate Max and BT. I'm hoping to get it out by Christmas day but if I don't then it will be soon after. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE AND HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR
