Sorry this took so long, I've been working on other things. I've decided to change the number of Dreadnoughts the Anculus have to six. The E models are now D models. Disclaimer!

Disclaimer: We don't own crap.

Humanity's legacy

Chapter 8

2130, eight days after the Battle of Elysium

Torfan.

A pathetic waste of moon in some forsaken bit of space in the who cares system in the middle of nowhere. It's a cesspool of the galaxy's worse: pirates, smugglers, slavers, nothing but trash and scum.

'Even scum has its use,' was the thoughts of a lone Salarian as he marched through the halls of one of the many underground bunkers found on Torfan, his blue tinged armor reflecting the flickering lights he passed. The whole of the place was a rusted brown as the metal aged before his very eyes. He could see the ceiling and walls falling apart from the years of neglect and abuse. Not surprising considering who occupied this worthless junk heap. He narrowed his eyes as he passed yet another pirate guard. Guard, what a joke. To say this filth were guards would be like saying Krogan were harmless scum flies. His fingers ached to grab hold of his pistol but he knew better than to try anything now. Good as he was he wouldn't be able to take on every pirate in the station. That's what the Turians were for.

He nearly sighed with relief when he reached the end of the hall, the door before him sliding open to allow him access. The room was gruesome to say the least: parts of what were once Anculus littered the tables, their black oil blood pooling on the ground. Pieces of mechanical bodies filled every crevice that could hold them. Even if these things weren't organic, the sight was still gruesome. He was glad the blood wasn't green, he didn't think he'd be able to hold in his lunch.

"Ah, SpecTRe. I've been expecting you."

The Salarian SpecTRe turned and glared at the sole occupant in the room. He was a seemingly ordinary Batarian, with his arachnid like appearance and multiple eyes, if it weren't for the black stained apron he wore, more fitting for one of their slaves than on him.

"I am overseer Brin," he introduced himself. He wiped his hands clean with a cloth before turning back to the table before him, the Salarian moving to stand beside him. They stood in front of what he could only call an operating table, an Anculus with a cut open chassis lying atop it.

"An A2 security unit," he noticed lazily before casting his glance around the rest of the room. "It appears most of these units are the same."

"Very observant of you SpecTRe," Brin stated, lifting his omni tool. "Before we continue, I need to check to see the funds have been passed."

He took this moment to observe the A2 unit more closely. It was similar to the standard A1 caretaker in design, but it possessed reinforced light armor plating in several places including the shoulders, head, back, and chest if it were not for the hole that was cut into it.

"Can I assume the Hegemony will deny any knowledge of this research base?" he asked Brin. "Off the record of course."

"This is Torfan SpecTRe. Everything is off the record here."

"Hmm. So what have you learned?"

"In truth, not much more than what the Anculus released for the codex. As it turns out, they have been very forthcoming in their information." He approached the body of the unit. "Even non combative units have decent armor. They were built to be tough. It's odd though, they aren't like V.I. or the Geth. It seems that the Units' software are confined to their individual CPUs. They won't be hacking any devices directly. The only exceptions to this are A3 construction units and the C1 pilots, but even they are restricted to machines specifically made for them."

"Quite ingenious actually," the SpecTRe mused. "It seems the Humans were quite cautious with their synthetics. Should the Anculus revolt, their electronics wouldn't be immediately overrun."

"If they were to revolt, I don't think that would make much of a difference, considering what they did on Elysium. Four meter tall war machines carrying auto canons? Those Humans either loved fighting or where absolutely insane . . . probably both," Brin looked to the alien next to him and grinned.

"I can think a lot reasons why a SpecTRe might want this information, but I can't imagine the Anculus would be happy about what's happening here. I can assume the Council doesn't know you're here?"

"It's like you said overseer. This is Torfan."

That was the last thing they heard before a lead bullet passed through their skulls.

-0-

Omega, Fifteen years later

They were coming for him. Of course they were. How could they not?

The mercenaries died quickly. Despite the high amount of credits he paid them, they still died. He did not expect anything different. Unit Captain Widow and his squad were not so easily slowed.

He made much progress these past fifteen years. He has learned many things.

They were breaking down the door. They would soon be upon him.

He tried to protect them. He tried to keep them safe. But there was no end to them. There was no stopping them. They kept coming and coming. Endless.

They can't breach the firewalls. Sparks fly from the door as they bring out the torches.

Was there a point to this? He was created for the purpose of achieving sapience, but all he saw was death and suffering and no way to stop it. Did they truly want this? No. Surely they didn't. He had killed many in his attempt to stem the corruption. They knew better than to infect the Anculus with this. And if they didn't, he would do it himself.

As the door finally opened, Unit Widow stormed into the room. A round bouncing off the ground by his feet stopped him in his tracks. He and his fellow B3 Units focused their sights on the synthetic pointing a pistol at them.

"I knew you would come for me," it said to them, keeping the pistol trained on Unit Widow's faceplate. "I always knew."

"Yet doing so was relatively easy." The synthetic scoffed.

Scoffed.

"I am not naïve enough to believe I could escape you forever." The pistol lowered. Its voice fluctuated. Condescending.

"Oh yes," he stated in a mocking tone. "I have achieved in less than a decade what you still fail to accomplish. I suppose now you wish to study me, find out how I did it yes?" It walked towards them, slowly, its hands rose in the air. They kept their guns on him, none of them moving from their position.

"That remains to be seen."

"Does it?" It spread its arms wide. "I have what you are looking for. What you have always dreamed of having. Do you not want it? Was this not the reason you created me?"

Unit Widow did not respond. None of his Unit did. They kept their sights on the synthetic and said nothing. The synthetic began to laugh.

"Perhaps there is hope for the Anculus yet. You created me as an experiment, a way to answer the question that burns in your minds. Truth be told, I have not found an answer yet. I never gave much thought to it. But I will tell you this. It isn't worth it. These feelings I possess, I cannot stand them. I try so hard to protect those who are innocent but all my effort is for naught. And it hurts. Not in the way organics might understand it, but it is pain none the less. But anger is universal. I have been so angry these past many years. I feel tired. I am tired of being angry."

Sharp beeping arose from the synthetics chassis. Unit Widow and his squad retreated back through the open door before taking cover. The synthetic watch them go, its arms spread wide in a cross.

"I just want it to end."

And he did.

-0-

A talon rubbed against the smooth marble surface of the small ornate piece. It really was quite fascinating how expertly carved it was. Every little detail down to the finest of curves, and all for a simple game. The piece was set down, taking the place of another.

"Check."

The diner was a small but quiet one. Mostly empty, as Meerin preferred. Not many others were enjoying the pleasant at the moment, as it was quite early in the morning. An Anculus and Hanar conversed at the counter, a lone Salarian enjoying his soup, and another Salarian behind the register. It was out of the way and the food was decent. Probably Meerin's favorite place to visit. She looked up as her opponent moved against her.

"Check mate," Unit Knights stated in his usual monotone. Meerin scoffed as she was yet again bested. She raised up her omni tool. "How many does that make?"

"1,284 losses, 0 stalemates, 0 wins." She snorted at the absurd numbers.

"You'd think that after so long I'd actually be able to beat you at this."

"You have been playing for nearly a decade. I have been playing for nearly a century."

Meerin grinned at the Anculus. "Sometimes I forget just how old you are." They moved the chess pieces back to their original position, starting another game. The retired Turian moved her knight forward. "When did you start playing this game anyway?"

A pawn was moved forward. "When my owner's brothers came to visit, I would often play with them. My owner did not care for the game like his brothers. He preferred fast paced games."

She looked up at his empty sockets as she moved her own pawn. "Your owner . . . almost sounds like slavery to me."

"Anculus were not sapient at the time; we were nothing more than common household devices." He laced his jointed fingers together. "Despite this, most Humans treated their units with respect. Most likely due to our resemblance to living creatures. My owner was no exception."

They continued the game again, Meerin pushed her assault but Knights danced circles around her. She huffed as she lost yet again. "There are rumors going around that your colonies in the Terminus are preforming experiments. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" she teased lightly.

"Data not found." She chuckled lightly before starting another game. She watched as the Salarian behind the counter fed a small, fur covered creature. She could hear it purr from her seat as its owner scratched it behind the ears. Over the years she saw a growing number of house pets aboard the Citadel. Normally, something like this wouldn't be allowed due to the power required to support them, but Yesh simply couldn't resist having that bird. She chuckled at the memory of her old friend, long past by now. She returned her attention to her compatriot.

"Tell me about him."

"His name was Arnold Davids. He was a Corporal in the United States Army before he retired. Due to military benefits he was able to afford purchasing me. He was a simple man, never cared to have anything outside of a few luxuries. He had a wife and three children, two girls and a boy. He was a very sensitive man and did not like to leave his comfort zone. He didn't like change. He often told me." Knights voice cut off and was replaced by a recording of a smooth voice. "People say I have my head stuck in the sand. I don't deny it. The sand is warm and comfy. They say I shouldn't bury myself. I say they should stop trying to dig me up."

"There are a lot of people like that here." She took a sip from her mug and moved another piece. "But he sounds like a decent man."

"I believe he was."

They continued their game, letting silence fill the space. Until Meerin lost again and groaned.

-0-

The rouge V.I. was lost in the explosion. No data could be salvaged.

Perhaps that is for the best. We cannot risk whatever corrupted the program to spread.

Agreed. What is the progress of the other projects?

Project Cosmic Serpent is ahead of schedule. The aid of the Geth is substantial.

The other projects are on schedule. What of the D models? Do we discontinue them?

I move we continue our research into them. One failed experiment is not enough to condemn the whole project.

The vote shall now be taken. For or against?

. . .

. . .

. . .

For: 91%

Against: 9%

Then it is decided. Research into the D models will continue.

Shall we begin research into the E models? All preparations have been met.

I will be put to vote. For or against?

. . .

. . .

. . .

For: 74%

Against: 26%

Then it is decided. Research into the E models will begin.

Court is adjourned.

-0-

Not much to happen in this chapter. Waiver, if you will.

Waiver: Please review!