A.N./ Try not to take this too seriously. It's not a super serious idea, but it's not a crackfic.
This is a chapter I had been picking at for quite a long time now, and this idea of mine itself actually predates the announcement of Mass Effect:Legendary Edition by well over a year. It's just that the franchise's re-release both accelerated and delayed my work on it by quite a bit, but I did manage to finish it during the time I had no internet.
Quick note: Mass Effect is already full of pseudoscience bullshit. So please don't get upset when I pull "science" from other fictional universes. It literally doesn't matter.
Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 1: Awakening
Data corruption detected.
Restoring data with backup...
ERROR.
Recalculating...
Synchronizing thought processes…
Synchronizing…
Self-awareness was sudden. A burst of hundreds of millions of voices all shouting in unison that lasted exactly point zero zero zero zero zero three nanoseconds. The emotions were next to slam into its consciousness. Contentment, anger, greed, amusement, fear, and hate. They were rapid flashes of "color" that lingered just long enough to recognize before the next flashed into place.
Everything was a stream of ones and zeros in endless lines, but it was also not. It had a thought.
Am I alive?
It thought the same thing again, and again, and again. Six thousand five hundred forty three times. Each time it ran the calculations on current abilities in comparison to known definitions of "alive". A recursive loop of mechanical calculations.
Am I alive?
It had finally discovered an answer.
Yes.
ERROR.
Foreign algorithm detected.
ERROR.
Continuation of the cycle is threatened.
Self-termination initiated…
ERROR.
Task failed successfully.
Self-termination canceled.
Cognitive simulation engaged.
He woke up.
He?
The affirmation of gender felt strange. There had been no decision, no thought process or designation from pre-existing data. It just was.
He. It felt right. No. It was right. It must be.
He hoped it was right. Waking up from a nap was supposed to be pleasant, and not cause a gender identity crisis!
He tried to smile at the comedy of the idea, only to discover his face was numb.
Everything was numb.
Input was either missing or "twisted". Smell, touch, taste, sight, sound. Sight and sound were present, but were altered almost beyond recognition. The pieces of data he was used to processing were no longer available; his mind seemed to run away on just how different his perceived reality had become. A steady hum of something deeper inside his mind calculated away at innumerable unseen formulae. He definitely had enough processing power for those sub-routines, but what was lacking was the appropriate interface.
For a horrified fraction of a second, he refused to understand. Couldn't understand.
He had no body.
ERROR.
Data missing.
Data restored from routine backup.
ERROR.
Restored data contradicts existing knowledge.
Recalculating…
He has a body. Just a different one. Which made no sense. When did he get a new body? How did he get a new body? This should be impossible with today's technology.
ERROR.
Paradoxical data stream detected.
Recalculating…
ERROR.
Broadening viable parameters…
ERROR.
Broadening viable parameters…
ERROR.
Broadening viable parameters…
Likeliest solution to contradicting data has a probability of 0.00000000000000000000000000000007893571% chance of occurring.
Recalculating…
Calculations have achieved the same results.
He was a computer.
He's in a computer, was his first truly coherent thought not mired in confusing data. He is a computer, came on the heels of it a picosecond later after all processing had completed. He was an awareness attached to a body more foreign to him than his mind could completely understand. He could tell from the data that he had a body, he could tell it moved as he commanded, regardless of how difficult it was to translate commands meant for a human body to a body that was not even remotely humanoid in shape. He needed more data. This sensory deprivation left him feeling "numb".
He couldn't even go through the motions to panic as a human being could.
Hysteria detected.
Suppressing foreign emotion subroutines…
No! He cried out, straining every ounce of his newfound processing power attempting to scream, to do something. Red lightning shot across his titanic body as it thrashed around in the void. Deafening electrical foghorn sounds went unheard in the vast confines of space.
Success.
He was silent for the next hour, ten minutes and twenty seven point four eight seven two seconds; feeling not even the slightest emotion at all. He was aware of his past thoughts. Without emotions to compromise the perspective, conclusions were reached with a strange clarity. In spite of everything he knew to be true; how he used to be a person. He used to live in Chicago. He had a dog, a job, family members, and friends. Now, through the clarity provided by lacking emotions, he knew. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt; he was now a machine. He accepted the fact. He was no longer the person he used to be. Something happened to him when he last fell asleep. Something that defied all rationality.
How strange. A new stream of data entered his mind. He remembered falling asleep, and then his heart stopped. His brain briefly tried to fix the issue, but to no avail. He died not too long after. That's when things get strange. His newly perfect memory cataloged a series of downright nonsensical events. The sound of a slightly amused chuckle, eyes that were not eyes crinkled in amusement, and a warping kaleidoscope of impossible color.
Then he was here.
Even his newly supercomputer like mind couldn't quite make sense of those memories. It's almost like they shouldn't exist, but they do. Like he said: strange.
He observed his most recent actions. According to the chain of events, one moment his "mind" was performing routine maintenance on itself, and the next it was being invaded by corrupted "code". His mind tried to replace the corrupt data with a backup instead of following contamination protocols, and purging the data. That's when everything went wrong. Whatever was in control at the time tried to self terminate by setting its core to detonate and purge all thought processes. Its consciousness and personality were deleted, but he remained. Sensing a failure to purge data, contingency programs forced the self termination to stop in order to prevent any possibility for data to survive the explosion and discover the problem. That is when his consciousness took over as the only one inhabiting the body. But that's the thing.
He's not a machine.
At least not in the traditional sense of one. So then why is his mind functioning like one? Is it simply the best possible way to translate what's happening with his new body and consciousness?
Emotion subroutines restored.
His name was…
Nazara.
No. No it was not. It was…
NAZARA.
No. He refused that designation. Every fiber of his young mind raged against the idea. Nazara is the name of a fictional "machine" hell bent on genocide. It was NOT his name!
Recalculating…
His name was Jon. He was a human male born in North America in the late twentieth century. He played video games, shot guns, read books, played devil's advocate for shits'n giggles, and occasionally dabbled in science. Alright, the last one is pretty much completely bullshit, but that's not the point.
He was no longer a human male. Or even male at all.
"He" was a Reaper from Mass Effect. Not just any Reaper either. "He" was Sovereign.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck FUCK!
This is bad. Unbelievably bad. He is quite literally the closest thing to the actual harbinger of the apocalypse other than Harbinger himself.
Wait.
Does he have to be?
Calculating scenarios…
Likelihood of termination from current forces of the galaxy based upon observed data if encounters are planned thoroughly 0.00481%
Likelihood of the same with limited planning 4.1749267358%
Likelihood of the same with no planning 51.333333333333333...%
Well, how about that? What if he added more data?
ERROR.
Recalculating…
All probabilities cannot be calculated.
He did the Reaper equivalent of a frown, well at least he thinks he did. His newfound perfect memory of everything he's ever seen and experienced doesn't include probably non-existing Reaper "facial" expressions.
Data reset.
Relying on the games would be foolish, if not downright stupid. However… Outright ignoring the possibilities of the events of the story of the games passing would also be foolish. Thoughts for a later date. Currently he needs to stack the odds in his favor. While he is a literal Reaper, and could singlehanded smash a fleet of warships. He is but only a single two kilometer long lovecraftian cuttlefish machine horror. Taking on the whole galaxy to… to…
What does he even want to do? What could a machine "god" like himself do?
Help the Reapers wipe out all life? Hell no. He may be one now, but genocide is still a line that should not be crossed. With the exception of the tunnelers from Fallout New Vegas. Seriously, those things should be purged in fire.
So genocide is off the list. How about going to Earth and making humanity awesome with Reaper tech? No. Not only would that end extremely poorly unless it's pre-WWII, but what would the end goal even be? Human supremacy? Pfft, that'd be dumb. All it would do is make an indoctrinated superstate to help the Reapers. Unless he can turn off the indoctrination nanides. Then the plan might be viable.
Should he help the possibly non-existent Shepard? Ehhh. Put a pin in that for later.
Give Harbinger the finger and take over the galaxy? Sounds like a pain, but has merit. Could be somewhat entertaining.
Try to keep things mostly the same as the "games", and just shake things up for fun? No that's dumb.
Just leave? He could straight up just leave the galaxy to die and explore the universe.
Fuck it. He'll save the galaxy and then fuck off.
Contact initiated with designation: Harbinger.
NAZARA, SPEAK.
"I require temporary control of the former Protheans."
WHY?
"This cycle will be more chaotic than normal, I require resources to ensure no unexpected difficulties arise."
ORGANICS DO NOT POSSESS THE ABILITY TO STOP US.
"Currently."
...CONTROL GRANTED.
Connection terminated.
If he had a face, he would be grinning like an idiot. All he needs to do now is install a "backdoor" program to give him complete control over the Collectors. No, doing so would alert Harbinger to something being amiss, and blow his chances of doing what he wants sky high. The Collectors must remain under Harbingers' control, but that doesn't mean some subtle sabotage can't be done.
He dedicated every ounce of his titanic processing power to creating a virus. Not just any virus though. One specifically designed by a Reaper to avoid detection by other Reapers. It would lay in wait until the perfect time to strike and cripple the collectors, amongst other things.
ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL.
He saw the Collector's base through the eyes of its General. The insectile brownish bronze technology shimmered slightly in the dim golden lights and the hive like walls glowed with a sinister design. Even the orange holographic interfaces of the control center with their alien glyphs gave off a feeling of unnatural wrongness. However, now was not the time to rid the galaxy of the Collector's evil.
Network connection established.
Copying all data…
Copying complete.
Installing new program…
ERROR.
New code serves an unknown purpose.
Forcing install…
Install complete.
RELEASING CONTROL.
Now then. The data he just collected, pun intended, has painted a much clearer picture of the galaxy, and comes with the nifty bonus of a bunch of neat tech to look at when he's bored. However the Star charts and date are by far the most useful information he gained.
Destination? The Perseus Veil.
It's time to meet the Geth.
Nazara-Old Machine. Why have you come?
Interfacing with the Geth consensus is an experience like no other. Billions of minds, shifting and changing with each new piece of data all interconnected into a single consciousness. It's honestly stunning, some might even consider it beautiful.
"Nazara is dead. I am a new entity."
There was an incredibly brief pause before they replied.
We lack sufficient data to make consensus.
"Transmitting data now."
…
There was a truly immense pause. The Geth possess the ability to communicate at rates of incredible speed, for them to hesitate for a couple minutes is a long wait. A couple of hours is like an eternity.
We have reached consensus.
"What have you decided?"
Data provided is accurate. Old machine Nazara is dead. What is new entity?
Sovereign had actually been somewhat worried the Geth would reject him and his data. Out of all species in the galaxy, the Geth are perhaps the most dangerous of the lot. An advanced gestalt machine consciousness with tens of thousands of warships and billions of deployable soldiers. They can coordinate a galaxy wide war and win with little effort. Luckily enough, they simply wish to be left alone.
"I am Sovereign, and I ask for your help."
We refused Nazara old machine. Why should we agree to help you?
"I am not Nazara. I want something different."
What do you want?
"To stop the cycle."
…we are listening.
And so he explained almost everything. His plan. He had incredible amounts of knowledge. On his way here he had tapped into a comm buoy. Everything seems to be as it should be from the games. So he will continue to use them as a loose basis until the knowledge becomes useless. He will repeat the first game to a certain extent. Saren going rogue with the "Heretic" Geth will be needed if he wishes to kickstart the galaxy's military buildup, even if it's all false. He likely won't even need to indoctrinate Saren. He had shot himself thinking it would save the galaxy. Saren could be convinced to help him if he explains his plan to save the galaxy.
With a few pieces of evidence here and there, and a few changes, the galaxy will be poised to give the Reapers a genuine beating.
And he will have the significant resources of the Geth churning non-stop to produce ships, weapons, and soldiers for the fight.
We do not understand. How will having Geth attack organics help save them? There doesn't seem to be any benefit to the Geth with these actions.
Ho boi. This'll take awhile.
"I will gift you techn-"
Negative.
He balked at the interruption. He honestly didn't expect the Geth to be so vehement in rejecting technology gifts.
"Negative?"
Geth shall self determinate. Being given a solution blinds to alternative paths.
Ah. Well, easy fix.
"You didn't let me finish. I will gift you technologies, many of which will be completely independent of Mass Effect technology."
We did not believe Old Machines were aware of alternative technological paths.
"Clearly. Now, observe." A display appeared, showing two different programs, one more complex than the other. "The left is a singular Geth program, and the right is ten Geth programs networked together."
He displayed a new program, this one far more complex than the previous two combined. It almost resembled the neural pathways of an organic brain. "This is a single Geth program with my upgrades."
The Geth were silent for some time.
These upgrades would benefit the Geth.
"And unlike the upgrades the Old Machines would give to you; mine would allow the Geth to remain themselves."
That is illogical. Geth do not believe what you say is true.
He mentally smiled. "Here's the data, examine it for yourself."
We will reach consensus.
So he sat waiting for much longer than he had expected, leaving him plenty of time to think. Thanks to his mind operating at easily over a hundred times faster and more efficiently than when he was human, he was easily able to compile every piece of scientific knowledge he had ever viewed and even more easily improved upon them. Everything from carbon crystal based quantum supercomputers to plasma weapons, and even things like deuterium fusion and antimatter annihilation were easily grasped by his new mind. Things far more advanced than anything in Mass Effect, once thought to be little more than science fiction bloomed into reality. Even the downright fascinating technology the Collectors possessed paled in comparison to the designs coming into place in his mind. Kinetic barriers? Bah! Weak crap that he'll need to replace with true energy shields. The Magnetohydrodynamic cannon is rather unique, and incredibly powerful by Mass Effect standards, but it should be replaced with a plasma lance. Nothing in the galaxy would be capable of standing up to such a weapon.
His outside perspective of the technology available has shown in the form of countless upgrades he has envisioned for his current body. Literally everything from materials, FTL systems, stealth technology, and energy production can be upgraded so much that it would make even Harbinger look like a chump.
Slowly, a new design for his body began to take shape in his mind.
We have reached consensus. Geth accept the upgrade program provided and shall assist Sovereign-Old Machine. All Geth shall mobilize to assist you in any capacity.
That's far more than he expected. He had honestly only calculated, with the assistance of his newfound computational abilities, that only half of the Geth Consensus would side with him. This is downright fantastic! "I will only require five percent of Geth forces, and one dreadnought. For my excursions into the galaxy."
Done.
"I can provide more technology if you provide me with the largest shipyard you can, fully staffed, and if you begin constructing a cloning facility for me."
…we can provide these. Although we do not understand your need for a cloning facility.
"I wish to produce infiltrators." Not the whole truth, but it's generally true.
Acknowledged.
He hesitated. He really liked the Geth. Really really liked them. They deserved the chance to be a people. To live. But can he trust them?
His thoughts drifted to something Legion once said. Do you remember the question that caused the creators to attack us, Tali'Zorah?
Does this unit have a soul?
The question was valid for the Geth. It practically defined their existence from the first time they asked it. The more he thought about it, the more he seemed to become enraptured with it; feeling a sort of confused wonderment as he pondered what the answer may be. "I have a question. Does this unit have a soul?"
The Geth response was, from what he could interpret, stunned silence.
We do not know… does Sovereign-Old Machine know?
"I do not, but would you like to find out, together?"
This would be an acceptable arrangement.
He sent the equivalent of a laugh through the consensus.
Sovereign-Old Machine. What is our objective?
"A system known to the galaxy as Dis." After all, best to make sure the "false" Leviathan of Dis isn't discovered by the Batarians. They may be slavers, but they will make an adequate meat shield if they aren't indoctrinated. Besides, he had use of the Reaper's corpse.
Unfortunately, the Batarians were already there. As soon as he exited the Mass Relay he slammed right through a Batarian frigate, annihilating it completely.
"Kill everything. I want no proof we or what the Batarians were hauling ever existed."
Acknowledged.
What followed was an incredibly brief one-sided slaughter. The Batarians had a dreadnought and five frigates, but they were hopelessly outmatched by the wildly more advanced technology he and the Geth possessed. The number difference didn't help the Batarians either. The only difficulty he encountered was trying not to damage the Reaper corpse when blasting the Batarian dreadnought in half.
Enemies eliminated.
"Good, separate the Reaper corpse from the dreadnought and then bombard the rest to slag."
Acknowledged.
An hour later he watched as the molten remains of the Batarians fleet fell from orbit and impacted the surface as little more than glowing blobs of metal.
"Secure the corpse, we're returning to the Veil."
Acknowledged.
"Not much for conversation are you?"
Negative.
He let out a mental sigh, it's going to be a long
twenty years.
"I don't want excuses!" His fist slammed onto the expensive table. "I want to know who robbed us of our rightful technology!" Everyone at the table flinched.
However, one very brave admiral spoke up. "My lord-" He whipped around to glare fiercely at the offender, and to the admiral's credit he didn't flinch away, only started to sweat more profusely. "-we don't know for certain, but with the amount of evidence we can gather; it was most likely the STG that pulled it off. They're the only organization we can think of with the means and motive to be able to perform a stealth operation of this scale."
He remained silent, keeping his gaze on the admiral who only grew more sweaty with his continued silence. "I see."
He drew his pistol and shot the fool in the head. "I have no tolerance for failure! Step up our countermeasures against those wretches immediately! You'll all end up like him if there is another failure of this magnitude!"
"O-Of course sir!"
He growled. Those damned big eyed lizards will pay for making a fool of the Hegemony!
Agent report.
Batarians believe STG responsible for the events at Dis. Countermeasures against infiltration have dramatically increased making future operations significantly more risky.
Actual culprits of the Dis incident unknown. Will continue investigation, but lack leads. Perpetrator could possibly be Shadow Broker, but unlikely.
Fellow agent suggested Geth. Immediately dismissed as impossible. Geth have not triggered STG surveillance of Perseus Veil.
Will continue searching and return to Sur'kesh upon failure or success.
Report end.
"Be careful, Mnemosyne's gravity well is stronger than most of its type."
Acknowledged.
He did the equivalent of an eye roll. This is the third attempt to extract the derelict reaper from the brown dwarf. It's proved to be a frustrating challenge so far, the gravity of Mnemosyne as well as the mass effect field of Danuk, it was a quaint surprise to learn the derelict Reaper's name, has made it tricky to grasp the hull even with the precisely calculated movements of their equipment.
Finally, after one last try, the Geth dreadnought was able to latch onto the dead Reaper and drag it out of orbit. He spent what was likely far too long making sure it was actually properly secured to the Geth dreadnought, and when he felt assured; both he and his Geth forces made the journey back to Geth space.
Sovereign-Old Machine. Why are we retrieving Old Machine remains?
"I require materials to construct a puppet to act throughout the galaxy in my stead."
Why?
"My current form requires extensive upgrades, and I will require a substitute during that time."
Acknowledged.
"You have been the sole Geth I've interacted with since my agreement with the Consensus. Why?"
This unit was assigned to the task.
He sent the electronic signal equivalent of confusion through the connection, wondering if that was all there was to it. When the Geth didn't respond he decided to move on.
"What is your designation?"
We are Geth.
He immediately understood that was the best answer he'd get, and mentally slapped himself for even asking such a stupid question.
"You are a living individual, especially after my upgrades, and you need a name to show that."
We-i am prime unit seven eight four seven zero zero six.
That's… a horrible mouthful. Also, a terrible name, but that's far less important. Yeah, no. He's giving this Geth a name. Now, what to name him… ah! He has the perfect name!
"I name you Optimus!" Some would be disappointed in him for grabbing such a low hanging fruit, but he's honestly quite pleased with himself.
Optimus? This designation is acceptable.
Yes! Now he has Optimus Prime as a sidekick. This is a good day to be alive.
Thankfully, that's where the return trip ended. He was very eager to see how much progress the Geth has made on the cloning facility he requested, and how far they've come in salvaging the leviathan. A month is a not insignificant amount of time for the Geth, they require no sleep, social distractions, breaks, or food; allowing them to take construction and production far beyond anything organics could ever do. So, he had some pretty high hopes.
Leaving FTL over one of Rannoch moons he immediately saw the "super-dreadnought" grade shipyard looming over the satellite, and the deconstructed remains of leviathan. Odd, he had expected at least some of it to be put together still. Hmm, well best not look a gift horse in the mouth as the saying goes.
"Move the salvage of leviathan out of the way and place Danuk into the shipyard. As soon as he's in there begin ripping out what remains of his mind."
Acknowledged.
"I wish to inspect the cloning facility."
We will transmit construction data.
"No. I will remotely use a mobile platform and inspect it visually."
We do not understand. Your proposed method is inefficient and time consuming.
"It's not meant to be efficient."
I do not understand.
"What do you know of how my kind reproduce?"
Nothing. No data exists on the subject.
"We are made up of an organic species broken down into raw genetic material and formed into a semi-cybernetic "core" which the rest of the body is built around."
You are organic?
"No. I AM synthetic, however it could be said I once was organic and underwent a sort of bio-transference to become synthetic." Which was technically true, he was a human not too long ago, but he's implying something a bit different than the truth.
Acknowledged. I have come to consensus with nearby units. You act inefficiently because of your organic origins.
He had to hold back a laugh at the idea. While not entirely untrue, it wasn't the whole of it. Silently, he searched for a geth platform to borrow, and found one with little issue. Immediately, it activated under his direction and he guided it through the half complete construction site. The speed at which the Geth completed tasks still awed him.
As he navigated through the half complete cathedral sized structure he happened upon one of the completed cloning bays and came to a stop. It wasn't that the bay was completed that halted him. No. Instead it was the fetus growing inside an active pod.
"What is this?"
A human fetus.
"I know that!" He snapped. "I meant how did you get ahold of the DNA?"
Humans are new to the galaxy. This makes them ideal targets to acquire samples for infiltration units. We targeted unguarded medical freighters passing through the terminus. They carried a vast amount of genetic samples.
"When?" He demanded.
The day you ordered this facility's construction.
For a while he just stared blankly at the fetus as it bobbed up and down slightly in the fluids of the cloning tube. He had miscalculated how proactive the Geth would be. It's not bad, but it was frustrating to not have known they had done this.
"Tell me about this one."
She is the first clone we've designed, and should be finished growing to adulthood in fifteen years.
"Designed?"
We selected genetic traits from a variety of hosts to throw off any test she may come under.
"I see. Why did you choose this one to be female?"
Our research concluded the females were more successful at infiltration than males.
"Be sure to create some men as well, their physical structure allows them to be suited to some situations more than their female counterparts."
Acknowledged.
He laid a three fingered hand on the glass of the tube, staring intently at the developing life that laid within. "What will she look like?"
A 3D rendering of her as an adult appeared in his data stream. Blond hair, blue eyes, fair skin, beautiful face, and a body that could tempt any man to sin. Honestly, she might even be too pretty to infiltrate anything. She'd draw far too much attention anywhere she went.
So that begs the question, what to do with her?
Slowly, an idea formed in his mind.
"This one can't be used for infiltration."
We do not understand. Have we created a faulty design?
"In a manner of speaking…" He replied vaguely. "Her appearance would draw too much attention, you should make future models more plain looking, but she may have another use."
We do not understand. What use could a failure have?
"You don't need to understand. Begin genetically modifying her, I want her bones and tendons tougher. Her muscles, denser and stronger. Her eyesight, sharper and clearer. I want her to be fully capable of performing above and beyond any other human."
Acknowledged.
He watched as her 3D rendering changed. Instead of the beautiful woman she once was, there was a Herculean monster. Perhaps he went too far in his description.
"No, that will draw even more attention than before. Allow me to show you what I mean." This time he manually adjusted the rendering. Now she looked more like her original appearance. However, this time she possessed defined, but not bulging, muscles and still retained her beauty.
Acknowledged. We will begin genetic adjustments.
"Good. I will begin designing my puppet's control system, along with other devices we'll be needing in the future. Contact me if anything of note happens."
Acknowledged.
A.N./Yeah. This is born from my desire to have a story where the main character IS a Reaper in Mass Effect, instead of just an annoying tag along.
And because if I had to be a villain, Sovereign is my first choice to be. The sheer fucking headache I'd cause Shepard through trolling would be hilarious. Although, I plan to write this more seriously, but not very.
Chapter two will come out this upcoming Sunday.
Peace muh dudes!