A/N:
Hey folks!
A lot of reviewers have been noticing recently how long this story is turning out to be, and how - in many ways - it is unlike the previous one.
To keep things short, so you can all get straight in to the next chapter (which I did very much enjoy writing, by the way), I simply ask you all to understand that The Saltorian War is as much of an experiment as The First War was.
TFW was meant to introduce the Mass Effect universe as altered by a differently-interpreted-Humanity, The Saltorian War is meant to flesh it out.
That being said, The Saltorian War is going to be a massive undertaking on my part (I could make the argument that it is too massive, but that's why it's a learning experience.). I have to, A) Flesh out and beef up the 'character' that is the WarVerse Humanity; B) Introduce and make solid the three main characters that will be seeing us through the entirety of the Reaper Saga; C) Introduce, flesh out, and translate an entire species and draft out all of the effects their introduction will have...
And a whole hell of a lot more.
TSW is the story that will more or less set up the entire series. So I implore you don't drop it due to how slow it seems to be moving, rest assured I am fully aware of how slow it looks like it is going, but I also want to make it known how important every chapter is going to be in the short and the long run, almost everything that happens in this story will have effects either small or large for the rest of the series.
So, In short - TFW introduced everyone to the universe at large, and introductions are quick, sometimes even rushed affairs. The subsequent meeting/s (to keep up with the metaphor) is where you really get to know whomever it is you're speaking to.
So, without further ado: We're off!
Chapter 17
"THE AI HAS GONE FERAL! NOBODY SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THE AI BEING FERAL!"
—Ob'enn Admiral, Schlock Mercenary
April 19th , 2216
Aboard the MSS, Christopher McGraw was standing in the communications room, staring blankly at the hologram of William Tyson, the Alliance Director for Affairs. This had been going on for a solid fifteen seconds, following what Tyson had just told the man. McGraw was silently testing the man, seeing if he would break and reveal it was some sort of joke, because he never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be proven so tantalizingly right.
Finally, it was McGraw who broke, he swept his cybernetic hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair. "So, let's recap: You're telling me that the Human Race's first ever sentient Artificial Intelligence has just gone bat shit nut balls insane, and instead of... Say... dropping eight pounds of antimatter onto its AI Disk… You listen to its demands, and call me?" He asked bluntly, the look on his face and the shine in his eyes telling the Director that he was slowly going past the point of fooling around.
"McGraw, Nikola asked for you specifically." Said Tyson.
"And you seriously expect me to willingly walk into a room with a nutty AI?" McGraw restated, "I mean, I'm crazy enough as it is, but this is a whole new level."
"McGraw…" Tyson growled, "is this line secure?"
"Think about everything you know about me, and then answer that question." McGraw responded with a straight face, neither affirming nor rejecting Tyson's question.
"Nikola hijacked our communications grids, fabricated orders and hacked launch codes. He just dropped nukes enough to kill just under a quarter of the on-duty SIGMA One Operatives we have. Want to know how many haven't called back?" He didn't wait for an answer, "six hundred twelve." McGraw's face was impassive and his voice silent, he knew where Tyson was going with this. "That's the exact number of Twos we're training, isn't it? You said it yourself, aside from raw numbers, only great big bombs can effectively and reliably kill a SIGMA Operative. And even then, it might not be so effective."
"You're guilt tripping me."
"Is it working?"
"Yes."
"How soon can I expect you?"
"My ship's already fueling up. From where I am, should take me about… Oh… Six hours, give or take." McGraw said, "anything I need to know?" He asked quickly, to avoid having to answer any questions about where he was such that it would take six hours warp travel to get to Arcturus.
"We've called in the best of our surviving SIGMA Ones, John Doe included. They're going to be your backup."
"The situation's really that bad?"
"We had to cut Arcturus off entirely from the network." Said Tyson, "Had to change the launch codes to every single ISBM we have. Had to initiate Eclipse Protocol to keep our ships from taking in any updated orders. Nikola has taken over all of the station's automated defenses. We tried sending in an N7 team, but they were shot down before they could reach the landing bays. We know for a fact he has several dozen Mechs of varying caliber, so he has a ground presence too."
"This is why you should put more funding towards the Stealth Recon project. There's this Quarian, out there, if his theories about stealth tech got funding, we wouldn't even have to worry about hostage negotiations. The SR-1 couldn't be found by Humans manning the most advanced sensors, let alone the first and most ancient AI." McGraw mentioned, but he waved the subject away. "How am I supposed to be assured I won't be shot down?"
"Nikola's an Alliance AI, he has your ship's registry. He'll know it's you."
"What's to stop him from thinking you've loaded it down with… Say… A dozen SIGMAs?"
"We'll have to take that chance."
"Wow, fuck you too." Chris sighed, "firstly, you're a dumbass. Secondly, I sincerely hope what's happening isn't what I think's happening, because then we'd have a serious situation on our hands. Thirdly, my ship's getting prepped for launch, I'll be there in six hours." He said, "anything else?"
"Nothing."
"I'll see you then." Chris said, before he cut the transmission.
"Gladys, what's Miranda up to?"
"Former Drill Sergeant Hampton is currently working with her in the exercise wing." The AI reported, her disk in McGraw's inner coat pocket, but her voice broadcasted from the speakers in the MSS.
"Well, she's getting a few days off. I've been putting something off I shouldn't have." McGraw said, "tell her to pack her bags. She'll need clothes for five days, and homework for ten."
"That makes little sense, Chris. After the first five days she will be approaching material she is not -"
"Have I ever lead you wrong, Gladys?" McGraw interrupted, with a victorious grin.
"Do you really want me to answer that?" It gave him no time to respond, "She is on her way to her room."
Chris smiled wide, "I win."
After reveling in his victory for the briefest of moments, McGraw then strode through the space station he'd named after himself. It had taken him many weeks to convince his friend and 'business associate', Jack Harper, to meet him half way for this station. His primary reasoning behind its construction was that it would be the 'perfect camouflage': It was a space station owned and operated by McGraw, manned by Cerberus personnel, and running under the public illusion of McGraw's own studies; and given that McGraw had his own cell in Cerberus - The Intuitive Cell - it made even more sense. Harper eventually gave in when McGraw mentioned how only he really had the audacity to create a space station, style it after an ancient and defunct construct, and even name it after himself. It would draw all the attention away from who really owned it, who really operated it, what goals it really harbored, and what ends it really worked towards.
After several minutes and a quick elevator ride, McGraw stepped into his room. He was greeted with the familiar sight, almost identical to his room aboard his ship, but much larger, and filled with much more clutter. There were posters taped all over the walls, clothes strewn about one corner of the room, several galaxy maps near the east wall, and a door to the other half of the room. No one entered that door, save for McGraw, though few knew for sure why he kept it so secret; some theorized that it was because he conducted extremely dangerous research within, some thought he was experimenting with things possibly more dangerous than antimatter, a few simply thought that was where he went to [as they put it] 'relieve the tension'. Only McGraw knew what was in the room marked 'Open Then Die', and he intended to keep it that way.
Chris stretched his muscles and grabbed his messenger's bag, which he had seated next to his emergency go-bag. The former was empty, and was always kept empty except when he was out on business, the latter was full, and was always kept full unless it was an emergency situation and he had to leave immediately. The EGB had the essentials: A first aid kit, a tablet computer with access to Alliance DS/C Installations and Citadel Comm Buoys, a Smart Watch with the same features, a Shield Belt, a pistol with three magazines, enough Meals Ready to Eat and Food Paste tubes to last him two weeks, a flare gun, an emergency transponder, and - for the most dire emergencies - a device the make of which only McGraw knew. The Mesenger's Bag was most commonly packed with a tablet, an emergency MRE, several changes of clothes, and a gun with two magazines. McGraw never actually had the gun on him, sure he'd trained with his SIGMAs, and he remembered every detail of said training, but he knew that, should he ever be put in a life or death situation, his cane would keep him safe, or end it in a split-second, blindingly bright flash.
McGraw had his bags packed in five minutes, and was making his way through the station in six. His messenger's bag was slung over his shoulder, and his hands were in his jacket's pockets. It took him only a few minutes to get to his ship, outside of which Miranda was waiting.
"I haven't even finished a month of training and education, and you're already bringing me out on a mission?" She asked.
"Three, actually. Two of which I've been putting off." McGraw said as-a-matter-of-factly, with a smile on his face.
"Three missions. You think I'm ready for this?"
"Hampton's good, but his stuff pales in comparison to what you went through during your SIGMA Month. And I'm pretty sure his drills have been bringing that stuff back to memory?" Her silence was his answer, "you're ready. Besides, closest to a gun we'll be getting is on the first mission…" McGraw said as he pulled out a pair of glasses. "And you won't be going on that one."
"What? Why bring me in the first place?" Miranda asked, as McGraw powered up his glasses, and synched them up to his Smart Watch.
McGraw chuckled in response, over the last few weeks Miranda's schedule had been pretty static: wake up, eat breakfast, PT and Combat Training with Hampton until lunch, lunch, education with a suite of tutors until dinner, dinner, and then more PT and Combat Training until bed. She had been allowed two days off five days ago, when the Foster Family had come to take her sister, McGraw had been told that her crying could be heard over two entire decks. She'd recovered quickly though, and had taken to her training and studies with a much more dedicated zeal. The only side effect of all of this training was the stimulation of the rebellious attitude her father had so unknowingly crafted, though Hampton was doing wonders in quelling it and replacing it with a sense of duty, and a desire for victory.
"Because the other two missions are of the utmost importance to the Organization's future, and to the future of Mankind." McGraw said, as he keyed the airlock for his ship.
"What are they?" Miranda asked, following him inside.
"A courtesy call and a lunch on the Citadel."
"What?"
"Alright!" Said the Captain of the SSV Midway, the Frigate aboard which John Doe S1-1, Lucy Stavy S1-31, Jason Bower S1-9, and William Brock S1-171 found themselves upon. "This is what we know." He looked at the four SIGMAs, two belonging to the Omega, and the final two from Dagger squad, each having survived the nuclear holocaust with little more than bumps and bruises; all of them were refilling their ammunition and checking their armor in the belly of the Frigate's Landing Bay. "Around 2200 hours, Arcturus Station began experiencing a whole mess of power-related issues. Things as mundane as weak internet connections, to as serious as malfunctioning oxygen scrubbers. The Station's Engineers were sent in to investigate, but couldn't find any reasons as to why the power was acting up. One went to Arcturus' Superintendent AI and asked if it had noticed anything peculiar. Six seconds later the AI went offline, as did every single other AI on the station, Civilian, Military, and everything in between." The Captain explained, as shuttles and fighters were loaded for battle. "Immediately we went to Sec-Red 1 and began evacuating the Board of Directors. Everyone but the Director for Augmented Affairs made it out, before the Station's Security Mechs started going crazy. That's when the Civilian Populace started realizing something was up, but the station's landing docks were all locked down, so no one who hadn't already gotten out, could get out.
"Tyson ordered the Arcturus Defense Flagship, the SSV Dragonscale, to start scanning for infections in the system and any AI's still functioning on the station. They got in contact with Nikola, that's when we started getting an idea of what was happening." The Captain explained, clasping his hands behind his back. "Whatever's going on, something's gotten through Nikola's firewalls, he's got some kind of virus that's causing him to attack damn near anything on the station that lifts a gun. We tried sending in an N7 team to fight their way to Trent and get him out, but they were shot down before they could even hit the docks. Now that's where you come in, SIGMAs." He explained, drawing the sideways gaze of all four of the Augmented Elite.
"Nikola's refused each and every offer we've made at sending in an emissary, even when Tyson offered himself up. When we asked who would he accept, before he cut transmissions entirely, he only gave us one name: Christopher McGraw." The SIGMAs reacted visibly to the name, the name McGraw was important to all SIGMAs, both I's and II's. Not just because the McGraw family had propelled Mankind into interstellar space, but because Jason McGraw had laid the foundations and the groundwork for the I's, and Chris had laid the foundations and the groundwork for the II's; the name McGraw was, to the SIGMAs, something to respect and admire. "We have no reasoning for this but we do know that Nikola will let McGraw, and more importantly, his ship, inside. So when McGraw arrives - which should be any minute now, our last transmissions were nearly six hours ago on the dot - he's going to dock his ship with us. If Nikola gets suspicious, McGraw himself told us he'll say that he's simply filling up on his emergency food stores. He's done it to us before once, so Nikola should buy it. But we're really sending you onto his ship."
"Protection?" Asked Doe, as he grabbed the last EMP Grenade he needed and clipped it to his vest.
"Rescue." The Captain corrected, "you're not going in to protect McGraw, you're going in to save Trent." He explained. "Trent is Nikola's biggest bargaining chip. If we get him out, we have a much greater basis of launching a full scale assault, if McGraw fails and the need arises."
"An assault on Arcturus Station." Said Bower, with a reverent sort of disbelief in his voice.
"Sir, the civilians will still be inside." John noted, "launching an assault would entail naval intervention. Arcturus' shields and armor are tough, but under a sustained assault from the defense fleet? They couldn't survive." It wasn't entirely a lie, ever since the advent of Tuning Metals, Arcturus Station had been completely coated in them to make its external armor all but indestructible. Its shields were twice as strong as the most advanced shielding units on Alliance Flagships, which could withstand six shots from an Alliance Dreadnought, and three from an ODP. But the station, as impenetrable it may be, still had windows, structural weaknesses, which - if pierced - could put the civilian workers and tourists in extreme danger.
"That's a risk we'll have to take, John." The Captain said somberly, "if Nikola really has been infected with some sort of virus, this is something we can not allow to be leaked out. If we have to assault Arcturus, we'll pin it on rebel insurgents and have to deal with the consequences, as numerous and as varied as they may be."
"Can we expect any sort of support from the inside? Police forces… N7... Marines… Soldiers?" Lucy asked, as she sealed her helmet onto her head.
"The last communiqué we had from the inside said three squads of soon-to-be unretired Migrant Fleet Marines had been hosting a reunion in a restaurant in the PFC." The captain said, "before comms cut out we managed to get that they had Mass Accelerator based pistols and shields on their suits, so they're not hurting for equipment, but they were planning on making a move on the nearest police station to get better equipped." The Captain explained, "we believe that when you enter the station, your short-wave comms should be able to reach them without Nikola noticing." A pause, "needless to say, you're going in there without AI Assistance." He added.
"Understood." John said, with a nod, before he hefted his rifle and clamped it to his back. Just a second later, the ship shook as a docking tunnel hooked onto a foreign vessel.
"That'll be McGraw. You know your objectives, gentlemen, let's see it happen." The captain nodded, as one of the Airlocks in the Landing Bay opened, revealing the docking tunnel that had hooked onto McGraw's ship. When the door fully opened, McGraw himself was revealed standing there, his two hands clamped on the top of his metallic cane, and a wide grin on his face.
"Well, folks, we're at war." He stepped down, his boots making an audible clank on the metal flooring of the Frigate's Landing Bay. "The Council's breathing down our necks for invading what is technically their territory." Another step, the man's voice carried throughout the entire bay clearly, despite the noise, hustle and bustle of activity. "We were on the receiving end of a nuclear weapon. And one of our most trusted, most ancient, and most developed and friendly AI's has just gone batshit insane." He finally descended the last step, and then made his way over to the Captain and the SIGMA Team. "Does anyone want to know, why this is happening, and how?"
"We have reason to believe that Nikola has been infected with a -" The Captain was interrupted by McGraw.
"Ah! Guess again." He said, "something broke through our most protected station's firewalls, and instead of trying to steal our data, it hacks into an AI? Nope, not buying it."
"Then what do you think happened, McGraw?" Asked the annoyed captain.
"How do we make AI's?" McGraw asked rhetorically, "we take the scan of a Human brain, a rather smart one at that, then we take a dozen super computers each alone capable of taking over the entirety of any earth before the twenty second century, and then we fuse them all together. After six days the process completes itself and we've got a fully sentient, self aware, Humanoid Artificial Intelligence, that either takes the personality of a historical figure, or forms its own. It gives itself a name, we give it a serial number, and then we designate it Civilian, Military, or whatever the hell else kind of job we need it for. Political, Police, what have you." He explained.
"I'm not here for a science lesson, McGraw, get to the point." The Captain ordered.
"Sir, with all due respect, I've worked with Christopher McGraw before." Said Doe, "when he explains something like this, his point is in the explanation."
"Oh, hey John. Doe." Said McGraw, "didn't recognize you with your armor on." He nodded with a grin, "anyways. That's how we've done it, and that's how we'll keep doing it. But… Therein lies the problem. We use a Human Brain as the basis for the personality, the species, and the intelligence. The super computers gives them their artificial edge and unparalleled processing speeds. But the fact remains: They're based off of Human Brains. And what happens to a Human brain after it's aged a long time? Say… Sixty years?" No one offered an answer, "well, before the advent of medical technology, even a century ago, the brain and the body would begin entering their senior stages of life. With all the old, creaky, and more apt to break parts that goes with it. Brains specifically, start degrading. We call it… Going senile." He smiled as it dawned in the captain's eyes. "We don't have medicine for machines, not in the sense that we do for people. We have patches and software updates, but no medicine. So the benefits of medical advances, such as greater age limits and slower aging, don't apply to them. Nikola, our first ever AI, is a first generation. The oldest, and the most brutally forged.
"The process I just explained to you is how we make them nowadays. Back during the days of First Gen AI's, we crammed about three brain scans and several dozen Super Computers together. We did this because we hadn't refined the process yet, and we didn't really know what we were doing. Nowadays, it's a lot more refined, a lot more precise, more accurate, and more healthy for the AI's. We produce a better product these days." He said, "anyways. This all culminates into one thing: First Generation AI's, those produced from 2150 to 2183, are old. They were made with multiple brains, and multiple computers. Nikola is the oldest of them all. Sixty years, give or take." He paused, "and we've already covered this. What happens when a Human brain gets old?" He grinned a toothy grin, his dark blue eyes seeming to shine as the Captain put the pieces together.
"You're telling me that the Human Race's first AI has gone senile?" The Captain asked.
"Not just that, but he's gone uber senile. Several brains, remember?" McGraw said, "he could have been showing symptoms as far back as 2180, but we didn't know AiDS existed back then, so we couldn't detect it."
"We... Wait, AIDS?" The Captain was lost.
"Not Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, Artificial Intelligence Degradation Syndrome." McGraw said pointedly, "my college buddies came up with the term when I made my AI, with no Human brains at all." He produced his disk, "the first of the Third Generation. One of the two third generations, actually." Gladys appeared, with a golden-orange glow and a soft smile.
"So Nikola's old, and he's degraded so much that he's gone insane?" The Captain asked, as supplies were ferried between the Midway and McGraw's ship.
"Kind of… He's gone senile. Rampant for those of you that are as knowledgeable in 21st and 22nd century sci-fi references as I am." McGraw corrected, "but unlike the video games and movies of old, we can't cure this, or wait it out when it's arrived. Simply put, we've got to kill him, and study his parts and programming… Try to figure out how to stop it from happening again." He explained.
"You just said it can't be cured, but you think we can stop it from happening again?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I was the one who had a PhD in Engineering, AI Synthesis, Regular/Nuclear/Warp/Theoretical Physics , and damn near everything else you can think of." McGraw interrupted the man, "tell me, oh Einstein of the Modern Age, mister Mind of Humanity, what the hell do you think you can do with a month's worth of old research notes, and six god damn hours of prep time?!" McGraw demanded, his tone carrying all the annoyance of his words. He waited a second before he decided to drive his point home, "tell me, do you think it would be noteworthy to mention that this isn't simply a biological process the machine is mimicking? It may very well be that the primary reason he's going senile is because his mechanical parts are being burnt out, in which case we would likely only have to 'sacrifice' Nikola, after which we could just create a Cloud to upload all the AI's to, though that would run the risk of creating a collective-intelligence capable of overriding our pre-programmed kill switches and override codes - and given that AI's can stitch themselves together from fragments, that is fucking possible." He didn't even stop for breath, "or!" He interjected, "Or, and this is just as likely, it could be because of the multiple brain scans required to make a first generation AI. Ignoring the fact that he is simulating everything those minds represented his every waking moment, and ignoring the fact that we made him - more or less - on accident, the fact that he has three minds and countless super computers mashed together in to one patch-job beta-version prototype positronic brain could just be overwhelming him. Some people can hardly function with one mind and he has three!" He called out, completely aware that his rant was silencing the cargo bay. "There are any number of possibilities here, and there are only two people truly qualified to understand what the fuck they're doing in this kind of situation, and one - god damn his soul - is six feet under in his private burial spot in a place I won't ever reveal!" He took a breath, straightened his back, ran a hand through his hair and then rested both atop his cane. "So tell me, Captain. What are your thoughts on the subject matter? I would very much appreciate your obviously qualified insight."
The cargo bay was dead silent. Few could ever claim to see Christopher McGraw lose his cool like that, even his usual snide persona was not that. His rant had attracted the eyes and ears of everyone aboard, though most of the ones who had little idea of who he was were, indeed, watching just so they could see someone rip apart the Captain as so thoroughly as McGraw had just done. Though he was seething with rage at his authority being so thoroughly challenged by what essentially equated to a petulant man-child, the captain remained composed, and quietly asked, "when do you leave?"
"When do the SIGMA Boys get on my ship?" McGraw responded, and not an instant later the four SIGMA Operatives were on their feet and marching to McGraw's ship. "Hopefully I'll see you later." He grinned, before he followed the SIGMAs.
Once on the ship, it unhooked itself from the Midway's docking tunnels and rocketed towards Arcturus. The Warp Journey would take just under six and a half minutes, so McGraw was sitting in the mess hall with Miranda, John, and the other SIGMAs.
"So… You're going in to save Trent?" McGraw asked John, who nodded. "What, you're not going to protect little ol' me from the psycho-bonkers AI?" He chuckled.
"We can dedicate an absolute maximum of one SIGMA Operative to your protection, if you deem it necessary." John mentioned, though he knew what McGraw's response would be.
"Hah, no thanks. If Nikola really did take over the station's mechs, you'll need all the help you can get." He said.
"So… You're really John Doe?" Miranda asked, with genuine curiosity in her tone.
John looked to Miranda, then to Chris, though his expression was masked by the golden visor, his intent was clear. McGraw shrugged, "call her my 'protégé'." He supplied.
"Yes." Doe answered.
"You're seriously the same man that walked onto a Mercenary station single handedly and -"
"I'm going to stop you right there." Said Chris, with a barely suppressed grin on his face, and his cybernetic hand in front of Miranda's mouth. "One thing you'll have to learn in our line of work, when you're talking to military vets, especially the legendary ones, don't bring up their past deeds."
"I…" Miranda looked at McGraw, and saw the same serious look in his eyes that had been in them when they had spoken of Spokane, so she dropped it.
"So, Johnny, any word on my Twos?" He asked, "she knows, don't worry." He added.
"I spoke to Two Fifteen two days before he got augmented. He was just as you said he was." Doe answered, "he's also the leader of Alpha Squad."
"Oh great." McGraw chuckled, not surprised at all.
"Last I heard they were set to start waking up tomorrow." Doe supplied, "then they were going to go through their first field tests."
"Field tests?" McGraw reiterated, "oh boy. Did Trent make 'em think that it was going to be like some kind of scenario?" Doe nodded, "oh boy." McGraw said, as the feeling of deceleration hit all of those aboard the ship, "let's hope they'll wise up before too many of them get killed." Only Miranda noticed the slight shake in McGraw's voice, but her concern was washed away when Gladys spoke.
"Mister McGraw, we are being hailed with a travel destination." It said, "I am currently making way to Docking Bay F-12."
"Show time, boys." Said McGraw, as he pushed his smart glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You know where to find me, Miranda." He tapped the side of his head, before he snatched up his cane and made his way off of the ship.
McGraw's entrance into the eerily silent Arcturus Station could only be described as surreal. Instead of being greeted with the sounds of life, he was greeted with utter silence. Instead of hearing the sounds of activity and commerce, he heard only the silence of a post-war zone; and instead of seeing a Human or Quarian being upon departing his ship, he was met with a Wolf Drone.
"Nikola?"
"Greetings, Mister McGraw." Said the Wolf, in the voice of Nikola. "If you would follow me, I have much to show you."
"What've you got for me today, buddy?" McGraw asked, looking around.
Arcturus was as much of a political hub of the Alliance, as it was a social hub. It was essentially an enormous city in the middle of nowhere, Space. It had lied in the Arcturus Stream, in the nexus of several relays, but now those relays and their partners had all been removed, turning the Relay Hotspot into a Warp Hotspot, as the station itself was in the center of Alliance Territory, and was therefore a popular pit-stop for many a traveling ship. Around McGraw, after passing the eerily empty security checkpoints, he could see many fast food restaurants, gift shops, and news stands. Many of them had simply been abandoned in the mad rush for exodus, McGraw could see several dozen corpses, which lay abandoned on the ground.
"Oh, a plan here, an idea there." Said Nikola, "did you know that the Alliance stands outnumbered hundreds to one in a territory game? We've less than a hundred planets and the Citadel Council and Terminus Systems number in the thousands." It explained, "that means that our race -" McGraw noted the word it had just used " - is severely outnumbered, territorially. Couple that with the immeasurably larger population, and the extreme military population disadvantage, the only true reason we are a Great Power is because of our Warp, and Magnetic Accelerator technology. Had we technologically evolved like the Citadel had, we would be laughably weaker than them. Only our societal history with War would set us apart from them, and even then, the Turians are far more militaristic than we."
McGraw gave a grunt, "So what you're saying, is that if we had Mass Accelerator Cannons and Eezo FTL Drives, the Alliance wouldn't be a sovereign nation, but rather an ally of the Citadel, under-appreciated like all the others."
"Exactly!" The AI said quickly and excitedly, "you and I, we think so very much alike, you and I! It was a damn shame your father died."
"Meh, can't complain. He was an asshole." McGraw said off-handedly, with another look around the station they were strolling through.
"But he was the asshole that made sure the Human Race would remain technologically apart from the Citadel Council. Our Rail Guns, our Warp Drives, the SIGMAs, and even the SynthHumans are all a result of your father's work." The AI explained, as he guided McGraw through the station. "But even with that, the Citadel is still stronger than us."
"I beg to differ. We have the Quarians."
"But they have the Big Three. The Turians are their military, the Asari are their mediators, and the Salarians are their researchers. Each one compliments the other, makes up for their weaknesses, and builds up their strengths. Altogether they are stronger than us."
"There's a butt in there."
"But a species, a government, cannot simply survive on technological superiority alone! Our own history confirms this! We need something, a unifying presence to keep us united against alien influence!"
"That sounds awfully odd, coming from the SynthGuy that saved the Quarian Envoy's ass during the SCW." McGraw mentioned, as they continued walking through the station. They passed a bank, in front of which three Turtles stood sentry, keeping a dozen civilians inside. McGraw looked within and saw one face jump out from the crowd, the face belonged to one of the most important Humans in the galaxy: Leonard Trent. Trent noticed him too, and his eyes widened ever so slightly; without breaking stride, or even pausing his passing gaze, he locked eyes with Trent and gave a slight nod.
"But I didn't!" Nikola said, "the negotiations would have gone perfectly, had I kept my mouth shut and my presence a secret! Admiral Zoran would have been able to convince the Council that we didn't actually want war! Peace would have been achieved, we wouldn't have invaded Palaven!"
McGraw's head snapped to the wolf, which was still staring pointedly ahead, almost as if the machine was fully aware of what its controllers' words meant, and was not at all happy about it. "That's a bad thing?" He asked, only slightly surprised; Nikola's crazed ramblings told McGraw that he'd been senile for at least a decade, which frightened McGraw, as it hinted that the entire First Generation of SynthHumans could be going senile any time now. Not a good thing. Thought the man.
"Yes!" Exclaimed Nikola, "because then Whyte would have allowed the Council to absorb us, because they didn't reject our offerings of peace! Then the Council would have battened down the hatches. Our Rail Guns would have to be decommissioned, our Warp Drives given up, our Dreadnoughts Scrapped, our Flagships done away with, our SIGMAs killed, and worst of all, the entire SynthHuman culture would have to be wiped out! Because Zoran succeeded in his mission! Because an alien tried to do what was best for Humanity!"
"I didn't know you were such a patriot, Nikola." McGraw mentioned, as they took a right and started ascending a flight of stairs to the employees sections of Arcturus.
"That was why I was made! I am the AATF's AI, their first one! My thoughts are always of Humanity and his future!" Nikola rambled, "if I had allowed Zoran to achieve peace, Humanity would have fallen into the same pit of creative sterility the Council had! And I can't let that happen!" The lights above McGraw, and all over the station, began flickering. "Humanity must remain separate! Man must prevail! Mankind must be the best he can possibly be! And the Council is not the best! It isn't even second-rate!" The station itself began shaking, McGraw suddenly felt lighter.
Oh shit. McGraw could see, off in the distance, objects begin to float aimlessly into the air. He's worse than I thought. He grabbed the nearest railing, just in time, as gravity itself turned off. He knew that he had to make a decision now, as to how he had to deal with this, and the more Nikola spoke, the less it looked like he would just be able to convince him that something was wrong, and leave amicably.
"We cannot ever become the Council's allies! Their pets! Their 'clients'! Look at the Volus! They were amazing before they met the Turians, then they became a part of the Council's system and now they are stagnant! The Quarians! They were the Humans of the Galaxy before the Geth came along! When they needed help, WHERE WAS THE COUNCIL?!" Nikola roared, as the Wolf continued along as if nothing was wrong. McGraw, feeling a slight amount of vertigo in the gravity-less environment, kept an iron grip on the railing, as he ambled his way after the wolf. "THEY SAT THERE, LIKE THE PIOUS MORONS THEY ARE, AND WATCHED AS AN ENTIRE, SAPIENT, SENTIENT RACE WAS ENDANGERED!" Roared the ancient construct, "THE DRELL! THE DRELL WERE KILLING THEMSELVES, AND WHERE WAS THE COUNCIL? THEY KNEW THEY WERE DYING, BUT WERE CONTENT TO LET THEM DIE! THE ONLY REASON THERE ARE STILL DRELL IN THE GALAXY IS BECAUSE OF THE HANAR, IN THEIR INFINITE KINDNESS, RISKED EVERYTHING - INCLUDING AN IMMINENT SEAT UPON THE COUNCIL - TO RESUCE THEM!"
"Nikola -"
"THE BATARIANS! THE ONLY ONES IN THE ENTIRE GALAXY THAT HAVE ACTUALLY STOOD UP TO THEM ARE US, THE HUMANS! AND HOW DOES THE COUNCIL THANK US, FOR ENFORCING THEIR LAWS?!"
"Nikola! -"
"THEY INCREASE BORDER PATROLS AND CAUSE MORE TENSION BETWEEN OUR SOCIETIES! WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF THAT NUCLEAR WEAPON ON SILER, BUT THEY ARE BUILDING THEIR FORCES AS IF WE DID IT TO THE BATARIANS!"
McGraw skipped the fact that it was actually his organization that had orchestrated the Nuke. "Nikola!"
"WHAT?!" The wolf rounded on McGraw, who's feet were pointed directly at the ceiling. "Oh, sorry about that." And unceremoniously the gravity switched back on, and McGraw slammed onto the catwalk they had been traversing. When McGraw got back to his feet, and dusted himself off, Nikola spoke again, "where was I?"
"As - wait, where's my cane?" McGraw looked up and saw it falling towards him. With a horrified yelp, he leapt up and snatched it out of the air, before it could have hit the railings and tumbled down below. "Oh... That was close..." He said breathily, his heart racing. "Okay... Err... 'As if we did it to the Batarians.'" McGraw supplied in a slightly frazzled tone. With how bad Nikola was getting, McGraw knew amicability was not an option, if the machine was wrecking the station that meant it was entrenched, like a tree's roots it was connected to everything, and as more time passed it got more and more senile. In short: Once McGraw found him, he would have to do something drastic. Until then, he had to let the machine rant, there had to be a point, somewhere, buried in its delusional ramblings.
"Oh, right." Said Nikola happily. "AND BECAUSE THEY'RE BUILDING THEIR FORCES, WE MUST BUILD AND SUPPLEMENT OUR OWN! BUT THE GOD DAMNED REBELS, AND THE GOD DAMNED BATARIANS, AND OUR GOD DAMNED WARS ARE KEEPING US FROM PROTECTING WHAT IS OURS! AND OUR HISTORY DICTATES IT, IF WE CANNOT PROTECT WHAT IS OURS, WE WILL DEFEND IT THROUGH THE WAR THAT IS SURE TO COME!" It roared, as if the mishap with the station's gravity had never happened. "AND I DON'T WANT OUR PEOPLE TO DIE! I DON'T WANT OUR WARRIORS TO HAVE TO MARCH OFF TO FIGHT THE CITADEL HORDES, NOT AS WE ARE NOW!"
"Okay, so you're not trying to pull a SkyNet." Chris said absently, gauging the machine's reactions. "sorry. As we are now?"
"DIVIDED! WEAK! HELPLESS! DISADVANTAGEOUS!" The AI continued. "WE HAVE TOO FEW WORLDS, TOO FEW PEOPLE, TOO FEW SHIPS, TOO FEW ALLIES!" McGraw was noting how hysterical the machine was becoming.
This might be a snowball effect... What happened that sent him over the edge? McGraw thought, before he responded. "The Quarians are a pretty powerful ally… Our engines and weapons have become twice as lethal since we've let them tinker with 'em." He said, as they passed into the belly of the Station's roof-work zones. It was here where the engineers made most of their work, but Arcturus' loft was primarily a SynthHuman zone, as shown by the fact that the walkways were becoming a lot less organic friendly.
"Oh, yes, all twenty five million of them, against all twelve billion of us!" Nikola roared, "truly, McGraw, you and I think so differently!"
"This statement is false." Nikola's positronic brain is confusing itself, thinking too much too fast too soon. He thought, the cold scientist staring at the wolf through the humorous engineer's face.
"Shut up, I know what I said!" The ancient construct roared angrily, his voice straining and shaking, as if it was trying to keep control of itself. McGraw wondered if there wasn't some small bit of the machine, still sane, despite it all. "As we are, as a society, we can only rely upon ourselves! Whereas the Citadel has the strengths of a dozen species to call upon! The military arm of the Turians, the Mediating hand of the Asari, the Intellectual Genius of the Salarians, the economic knowledge of the Volus, the brutality of the Batarians!"
"What about the Elcoor and the Hanar?"
"The strength of the Elcoor and the Humor of the Hanar! Be quiet boy, I'm making a point!" McGraw kept quiet, "we need more strength if we want to survive as a society! As a species! But we are never stronger than when we are united. THAT is why I forced the Second Contact War to continue! THAT is why I slaughtered the SIGMAs in nuclear fire!"
"You did that?!" Had McGraw not known before hand, he wouldn't have been able to believe it.
"Of course!" Nikola shouted, "and what's more, the Alliance is already cleaning up the radioactive fallout with out terraforming devices! So the Council cannot prove it was us!" He roared, as the wolf slowed down, McGraw surmised they were nearing their destination. "When the Civilian Populace hears of the horrible Batarians and their brutal Nuclear Weapons, slaughtering thousands of Alliance Soldiers, and hundreds of our Augmented Elite Saviors, they'll cry out for blood! They'll unite and our society will become stronger than it ever was!"
"You're going to unite us by lighting a nuclear fire under our ass?" McGraw questioned, "that barely worked back in the twentieth century, and that was with two nations. How do you expect it to work now, with twenty plus planets?"
"I have it all worked out, it has everything to do with tension!"
"Tension?" Asked McGraw, thinking things were sounding more and more familiar as the conversation progressed; he and the wolf entered a door that swished open. McGraw looked up from the wolf, and was stunned at what he saw. "Oh… Shit."
"It's been ten minutes. We move."
"Operation Rescue is a Go." Said John Doe S1-1, as he and his squad of SIGMAs exited McGraw's vessel, rifles raised, and moved through the silent station. "Move."
"Do we know where the Director is?" Asked Lucy, who was desperately wishing their tactical cloaks hadn't been fried, it would have made their job much easier.
"Negative." Said Bower.
"Try the short wave." Brock suggested.
"This is SIGMA Alpha Team broadcasting on an emergency channel. Vagrant Team, you have thirty seconds to respond before the secure window is lost." John broadcast, slowly and clearly, as they made their way into the security checkpoint, and set up shop.
They waited for an entire five seconds, Brock and Bower sweeping the perimeter as Lucy brought up a map of the station.
"Vagrant 1-1 Actual to Alpha 1, I hear you." Said the accented voice of a Quarian Marine.
"Vagrant 1-1 Actual, do you have a position on the Director for Augmented Affairs? Twenty three seconds."
"Affirmative Alpha 1, they're sitting themselves in a bank on King Street."
"Got it." Lucy said quickly, before she synced the location with everyone's HUDs.
"Vagrant 1-1, are you in a position where you can set up undetected? Twelve seconds."
"Affirmative, Alpha 1."
"Do it, then. Wait -" John looked at Lucy, who held up five fingers. "- five minutes exactly, then drop an E-Beacon on your position, we will find you. Radio silence until then." John cut out, and nodded to the Alphas, they moved on his motion.
John couldn't shake the cold feeling in his augmented bones. Aside from Earth, this was the last place he ever would suspect of sounding completely and utterly dead. The silence here was deafening, which John actually appreciated, because the eerie tone of the atmosphere around them put him on edge, and kept his senses sharp.
"Down!" Quickly whispered Brock, and the four immediately crouched behind the nearest objects that would hide their massive, seven and a half foot tall frames.
John heard the loud, methodical, metal clanks of what he assumed was a Turtle Mech's feet clanking on the ground. It was on patrol, John realized, it didn't suspect they were there. He looked over to Lucy, who was giving him a hard stare, he shook his head and made a lowering motion with his hand, wanting them to stay put. Their EMP grenades would only stun the war machine, they wouldn't take it out entirely.
What felt like an eternity passed, before the unthinkable happened: Gravity deactivated. John fought panic and vertigo as he felt his feet and rear leave the ground, but he realized, as he saw the Turtle's shadow raise too, he could use this to his advantage. John lifted himself above his cover and placed a navigation beacon in the team's shared VR environment, before he - using all of his augmented strength - launched himself towards it. John lost the battle against vertigo, the feeling supplied by the sudden loss of gravity, but he chose then to ignore it entirely as he passed under the Turtle, which failed to notice him, or any of the other SIGMA Operatives flying by beneath it.
John hit the beacon just as the lights began flickering, he knew that the zero gravity wouldn't last, but he had to make use of it while it did. So, after placing another beacon, John launched himself towards the counter of a McDonald's outpost; though instead of flying towards it in a Superman-esque pose, John elected for a far safer pose: Butt towards the ground, feet forward, and hands back. This way, if gravity turned back on, he would land on his feet and his hands would hit the ground, reducing the noise of his impact.
John's feet hit the counter of the fast food restaurant just as he felt the rush of gravity. In an instant, his hands were on the ground and he was ambling into cover. His other squad mates were all also getting reoriented to gravity, and some made noise on impact, but their noises were completely overshadowed by the loud crash of the upended Turtle Mech. John almost chuckled at the comedic sight of the robot lying on its shell.
The SIGMAs spent five seconds getting used to gravity again, which in and of itself was a process that some would need hours to accomplish, before they moved out. Several minutes passed before they got the notification that an electronic beacon had been placed in their vicinity. John looked over to the beacon, and saw its scanners showing fifteen Quarians, all armed, all behind cover. With a hand signal, John directed the SIGMAs over to them.
"Friendlies on your six." John said, as he opened the building's side entrance and came up on the Quarian's six o' clock.
"SIGMA One?"
"The one and only."
"Pleased to meet you." The lead Quarian said, he wore a dark indigo suit with a tactical vest over it, loaded down with ammunition and flash-bang grenades. "Former Sergeant Han'Shon vas Rayya." He saluted the SIGMA.
"Commander John Doe S1-1." John returned the salute. "What's the situation?"
"We count at least forty civilian hostages, not including the Director for Augmented Affairs." Shon explained, "they've got three turtles standing guard outside, and five wolves inside keeping them docile."
"The turtles will be our biggest challenge. They're EMP Hardened and they're equipped with Rail Guns." John informed.
"We were thinking about that. Do any of you have tactical cloaks?"
"Negative."
"Well then, we'll have to be a bit more creative. If one of us can get to one of the drones, we could use our Onmi-tools fabricators to make a blade that'd cut through their mounts like butter." The Quarian said, "then we could use the one shot we've got on them."
"Forgive me for saying this, Sergeant, but you're a Quarian. Your bones are weaker than Human bones; we're SIGMA, ours are indestructible." John said, "give me the Omni-tool, tell me how to use the fabricator, I'll get the job done."
If the Quarian was at all concerned or angered by John's words, he didn't show it. Instead, he activated his Omni-tool, and after a few seconds, the seals on the left arm of his suit started popping open with a loud hiss. He removed his glove and forearm, exposing the pale gray skin beneath it to the open air, and he gave the glove to John.
"I've got QIS, I'll be fine." Shon said, before he shook his head, "I've got it pre-set up, just activate the tool and it'll do the rest." He said, as John bound the glove to his left arm. Experimentally, John thrust the arm forward, and just like the Quarian said, an Omni-blade appeared. He knew that Omni-weapons of the Council, and HardLight weapons of the Alliance, both worked on entirely different theories and designs, but through the magic of engineering, both could achieve the same effect: Nearly indestructible, searing hot, extremely thin and impossibly sharp blades.
"Alright. When I give the signal, I want three EMP Grenades, two outside, one through the window." John ordered, he received a nod from the SIGMAs, "Marines, you're weapons free the second we start firing, but watch your spreads, Civilian casualties are not acceptable." He stated, "understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Said everyone in attendance.
"I'm on the move." Said John, before he made his way towards the building's western exit. As he traversed through it, he realized that it looked much like a pizza restaurant, when he turned the filters in his mask off, he could actually smell the sauce. John only spent a moment on how he hadn't seen a restaurant dedicated to simply pizza in decades, but he pushed the thoughts out when he reached the employees exit.
Once outside, the silence enveloped him once again. Contrary to popular belief, John had been N7 before he'd signed up for SIGMAhood. Stealth, to him, was akin to a baby and milk, the two just went together. As he slipped into the shadows, John could feel the familiar feeling of invisibility envelop him, N7 were trained, both before and after the advent of stealth technology, to rely upon one thing, and one thing only during their stealth missions: Themselves. Relying on a piece of hardware that could break any moment was a surefire way to get yourself killed, but that didn't mean one shouldn't use it. This was the mindset John adopted with his Titan Armor, constantly during his leave on Sparta he could be found training himself outside of his armor. He'd done it for so long that it had become training doctrine for the other SIGMAs, who saw the value and merit in John's methods.
John sneaked through the shadows and crept from cover to cover, only staying in one place for more than a few seconds when he feared being seen. In just five minutes, John had managed to transition from the alley of the pizza place, to the alley on the bank's western side, and he'd made all the noise of an invisible specter while doing so. He brought his hand up to the nook underneath his jaw, and pressed his communicator twice, letting his team know they were in position. In his HUD, he could see their outlines immediately spring to action, readying their Electromagnetic Pulse grenades, and chambering rounds in their rifles.
John took in a deep breath, before he reached out into the light. In his peripheral vision he could see a Turtle not even ten feet from him, he ignored the feeling of rising panic and slapped on the ground three times. The effect was immediate, he heard the whirring noise of a Turtle producing and arming its Rail Gun, and after a moment, he heard the stomps of the Turtle making its way over to investigate the noise. After what seemed like an eternity, John saw the first foot step into his line of sight, and a second eternity later, the rest of the machine followed it.
John acted in a split-second, he was on top of the turtle in a flash and the Omni-tool was activated just an instant later. The Turtle immediately started rearing, and John could hear the others begin arming themselves as they shifted over to look at the commotion. John ignored them and slammed the Omni-blade into the Rail Gun's mount, the effect was immediate as he started sawing his way through the mount. In two seconds he got the Rail Gun off, and once it was in his arms, he leapt off of the machine.
"Now!" He roared into the radio, as he began charging up a shot.
Immediately, three grenades soared from the pizza place. Two landed in front of the bank, and one broke through the window and landed within. John's Rail Gun went off just as the EMP Grenades outside detonated, his fifty pound tungsten slug soared through the air at over two thousand meters per second. The slug penetrated the middle Turtle's head and soared through its far weaker internal components, before it tore through the bank's roof and ceiling at an angle, not hitting a single civilian inside.
John threw away the now useless hunk of metal and ripped his rifle from his back, as he launched himself back onto his feet. The second his feet hit the ground, his rifle was barking lead, tearing into the disarmed Turtle's head, as he sprinted towards the door of the Bank. That turtle too slumped down, just as his rifle clicked on empty and more rounds started flying into the remaining turtle. John crashed through the Bank's door, halfway through reloading his rifle as he did so. He was met with five Wolf Mechs, some dazed and confused, some simply fried by the EMP. John didn't wait a second, as soon as his rifle was reloaded, he was pouring ammunition into the Wolves that were still standing.
In a firefight that took all of thirty nine seconds, every mech inside and outside of the Bank was destroyed. John looked up and his HUD immediately identified Leonard Trent, he moved forward and secured the Director.
"Director, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." Said Trent.
"Are you alright? Do you need one of us to carry you?" John asked as he brought the man to his feet and did a once-over for injuries.
"I said I'm fine, John." The Director insisted.
"We have to get out of here, Sir, the Mechs are sure to have heard our noise."
"Wait!" John looked over to the Civilian who'd shouted, "the hell about us?" It was a Human, but his hand was clasped rather tightly around an Asari's, so he assumed the two were either tourists, employees, or at the wrong place in the wrong time.
"We can't afford time and manpower to -"
"SIGMA, we can't simply leave these people." Trent interrupted.
John looked at Trent, the two only had a few inches difference in height between them; John knew Leonard, he knew that he really was a good man, but given his position as Director, John wondered if he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, or because he was trying to look good in front of the voters. Either way, if John refused, the man would then pull rank on him and they would have to find a way to extract them.
John didn't sigh, "we'll have to move quickly. I don't know the occupant capacity of the ship we used to get here."
"It wasn't a military ship?" Trent inquired.
"Far from it. It was Christopher McGraw's ship." John said, as the doors to the bank opened, and in came the rest of the new Alpha Squad.
"That explains why he walked past us, I guess." Trent nodded. "When do we leave?"
"As soon as everyone gets on their feet."