Title: Transhuman Aliens
Series Title: Mass Effect/ Eclipse Phase (MEEP)
Author: curiousyellow
COPYLEFT:
I don't own any IP involved in this work of fiction. Everything here should qualify as a parody. If you don't get the joke, then you're probably a lawyer. It is very dry humor. Also, I disavow the legitimacy of IP as a legitimate form of property. Do with this as you like. For more information, please read "Against Intellectual Monopoly" available for free at: (CENSORED BY SITE?).
METADATA:
This is a piece of fiction derived from the Eclipse Phase game I used to run. It's core theme: "What would happen if Transhumans from Eclipse Phase had their First Contact with the Space Opera Mass Effect setting during the Relay 314 Incident?" Continuity ends pretty much immediately, but people seem to think it's interesting anyway. If you hate this genre or kittens, you should leave immediately and go reread your Spock/Voldemort slash fics you love so much.
Eclipse Phase is amazing, check out their website: (CENSORED BY SITE?)
It is also CC-licensed, so PDF redistribution is permitted. Go google "eclipse phase pdf" and you can get a legal free copy for yourself.
Wardi did not sleep that night, not with the pictures she had seen so
fresh in her mind. The others who had been in her position-infected
with spy nanomachines-they had taken hours to die, locked in horrid
contortions that broke bone and tore flesh. Buried in the stack of
papers were autopsy reports on the victims, all of them Asari, most of
them young like herself.
The autopsies were hard for her to understand, but a few things were
clear. Death came slowly, due to untreated shock. Some "pathogen" as
they called it, had caused muscle contractions which paralyzed the
victims. For reasons unknown, the pathogen's effects increased over
time, drawing the muscles tighter and tighter until either the
underlying connective tissue tore, or the bones broke. One of the
autopsy reports noted that the contractions would need to happen very
slowly in order to break bones before tearing tendons.
What kind of person would design a spy tool that could kill like that,
she thought? In spy vids, death was quick-a bullet or fast-acting
poison. This seemed more like some method of torture, drawn out to act
as a warning to others. She remembered the papers she had signed,
where the sentence for treason tended to be inordinately severe, to
dissuade others from betraying the trust of the state. Her fatigued
mind was drawing parallels between the two, when she heard the door to
the room open.
Berena came in to find a haggard Wardi sitting atop the evidently
unused cot, with her knees brought up to her chest. The young asari
was so lost in thought that she didn't bother to look at Berena till
the Archivist sat down across the room at the table, setting out
file-folders.
"Now that you're rested," Berena said flatly, "I've got some news to
share with you. We've got a lead on who has your sister, Rotu..."
The name cut through whatever dark thoughts had been occupying the
younger asari, and she looked suddenly attentive. "After the sky truck
that took your sister left here, it was pursued by two police cruisers
through the north end of the market district. Before other officers
could join the chase, the two pursing cruisers were shot down in an
ambush."
"Purely by chance, the second cruiser managed to get a picture of the
first one being incinerated." Berena pulled a photo out of a
file-folder. "...By this transhuman." She held the photo up, but from across
the room, Wardi could only vaguely make out a person-shaped blur.
Stiffly getting up off the cot, she stepped up to the table and looked
closely at the photo. "What is that?", she asked, pointing. In the
photo, there was a person standing on a roof, next to a patio and some
potted plants. The person stood braced, with knees bent and legs
spread for stability. Strangely, the person had an additional set of
arms attached just below the shoulders. None of the four arms seemed to be
holding a weapon, but the hands seemed to be glowing red hot. She
could just make out the face of a large and obviously male transhuman.
It wasn't one she recognized, but the expression of apparent glee on
it was worrying.
"This transhuman killed four officers. Shot straight through the
cruisers' barriers with those overpowered lasers he hides in those
arms of his. Cut through the control nozzles, and their inertia drove
them straight into the barriers of the nearby mall." Berena scowled.
"He's a known terrorist, goes by the alias 'Inkfish'. We've been
hunting him since the Integration Act passed. RIIS got called in by
the police after he killed that whole high-rise office complex with
that cloud weapon-the one you read about in the redacted part of the
packet."
"Most importantly, he's a known associate of Surt. If Inkfish is
involved, that means that Surt has your sister."
"What?" asked Wardi. "Why would the ex-ambassador want my sister?"
"We suspect he wants a hostage for leverage against your mother. Surt
and Inkfish are suspected to be agent provocateurs working for a
branch of the Alliance military code-named 'FIREWALL'. Our analysts
believe that their involvement in the Transhuman Underground is a
cover to facilitate an overthrow of the legitimate government of the
Republic. Twisting the arms of politicians is just another means to an
end in such a scenario. I'm sorry that you got caught up in it."
Wardi clenched her jaw hard enough that she distantly worried about
cracking her teeth. "We can't just be pawns in all this... we
can't..."
"You don't have to be a pawn, Wardi. We need sufficient evidence to
declare them military combatants, and then we can put them and their
whole organization through the military courts for war crimes. Only
you can get that kind of evidence, so by special authorization from
the Justicars, you are to be offered a chance to infiltrate them.
It will be dangerous, but if we succeed, you, your sister, and the
rest of your family will all be safe from these transhuman
terrorists."
With all of the recent events, Wardi didn't know what to think.
Stalling, she grabbed the file-folder that Berena had gotten the
picture from. She flipped through the still images inside. They
contained evidence photos showing the details of the crash site, as
well as close-ups of the damaged remains of the control nozzles on the
bottom of the cruisers-high-temperature ceramics melted into rivulets
like so much wax. Further on, pictures of the remains of the pursuing
officers. Notations from the forensics team said that their shields
had held, but a sudden stop is a sudden stop. What could her mother be
involved in that would be worth killing over?
She turned back to the photo of the transhuman, that Berena had called
'Inkfish'. Why did it have four arms? Was it born with extra arms and
hidden lasers, or did it decide at some point to turn its own body
into a weapon? Most importantly, why does it look so happy? Was she
misreading an alien expression, or was her sister really being held by
something so monstrous that it delights in wanton murders? So many
questions, and none of the answers at hand. "I'm not agreeing to
anything yet, but I want to know. I need to understand."
Far across Nos Astra, a similar briefing was being held. Present were
Rotu, Metsani, and the two men which the Archivist just described as
terrorists: Inkfish and Surt. The ex-ambassador was present only as a
3D avatar projected into the room by a small holo-projector that sat
on the table. Maybe to offset the strangeness of lacking physical
body, Surt was dressed in what most asari would deem conservative male
fashion: dark grays with white piping and subtle black accents. He was
sitting at the table at what would be an average height for an asari,
and by posture and expression conveyed a disarming avuncular presence.
In contrast, his physically present associate Inkfish seemed to barely
hide his alien nature. He stood back against the wall, seeming to loom
over the table even though he was meters away. While he actually stood
a half-meter taller than most asari, that fact was less intimidating
than the genuinely alien body-plan and behavior he seemed unable to
hide. He not only had the normal features of his race which were
uncannily similar to asari but slightly off, he also had an additional
pair of arms just below where the normal pair should go. More
disturbingly, his skin seemed to shift in color and pattern without
obvious efforts on his part. Ripples of reds and greens would travel
in pulsing waves over the visible skin on his arms and head,
occasionally resolving into thick bands of color that formed great
eye-spots staring at whoever he was paying attention to.
Despite having only known her for a few days, Rotu couldn't help but
find Metsani reassuringly normal. She had unconsciously placed her
chair at the table closer to the other asari than she normally would
with a stranger. For Rotu, seeing the transhumans in the flesh was
much more intense than she expected from the videos she had watched
previously. For her part, Metsani remained supportive and calm,
occasionally rubbing Rotu's back when the young asari's anxiety
radiated too strongly. While neither of them knew if the aliens in the
room could pick up on asari emotional cues, Rotu's discomfort would
have been obvious to any natives.
"Metsani, thank you for looking after Rotu for us." said the avatar of
Surt with a smile and a nod. "Have you had a chance to brief her about
what's going on?"
"A little bit. I didn't think she was quite ready to go into too much
detail." Metsani replied.
The looming figure of Inkfish turned its head to Metsani, and formed a
red eye-spot on its flesh looking at her. "We have read your
preliminary report," he said in a voice that was less alien than Rotu
had expected. "Mental stress following a traumatic abduction is to be
expected, but there will be time for her to cope later. It would have
been preferable to brief her thoroughly instead of wasting her time."
"Maybe you think so, but I disagree." Metsani placed her hand
protectively over Rotu's.
"Intellectualization of stress would have left her sufficiently
informed as well as too busy to dwell on trauma."
"Regardless, what's done is done." Surt interrupted coolly. "Rotu, do
you feel well enough to talk with us today?"
With all eyes on her, Rotu felt that even if she wanted to answer
negatively, she would be unable to voice it. "I'm fine..." she said in
an unsteady voice, "let's just get this over with." Everyone turned
back to Surt, though Rotu could see that the red eye-spots continued
to regard her while Inkfish's head was turned.
"Very well." Surt said, his avatar pulling up virtual papers from a
virtual folder, in what was likely an affected delaying gesture.
"Let's start with the information most pressing: what's happening with
you and your sister." He took an unnecessary breath while Rotus eyes
widened with obvious interest.
"We believe that your family is being targeted by compromised STG
forces. When I read between the lines, it appears that both you and
your sister are being hunted for use as leverage against your mother.
The STG forces want something from her, but are unwilling to outright
kill her. There must be something that she has access to due to her
position that they need. I'm not sure what that might be... but until
we can find and neutralize the relevant STG forces we would advise you
to stay with us. If nothing else, our organization's history of
opposing the STG should help keep you out of their hands. However, we
are taking active steps towards locating and neutralizing those STG
forces; should everything go well, our efforts will bear fruit in a couple
weeks."
"No! That's impossible, why would the Salarians have anything to do
with my family?" Rotu shook her head to emphasize her point. "What
would they even be doing here, when the Salarian homeworld is cutoff
from our sector?"
In reply, Inkfish waved a hand with a slicing gesture combined with a wash
of white bars in his color. "No, Surt said 'compromised STG forces'.
You'll need to listen closely: unlike other spy-rings set up by the
Salarian Union, this one is behaving strangely. They act too openly,
contrary to the standard operating procedures we know the STG has
historically used." His coloring shifted to a solid green. "Only
cursory attempts to conceal their activities are made. Cooperation
from non-Salarians is evident. Current security requirements preclude
discussion with you unless need-to-know has been established." The
green changed suddenly to a rusty red. "However, if you are willing to
trust us, we are willing to trust you."
Surt nodded, adding, "Rotu, you have a choice to make now: we can
protect you and keep you isolated, or we can involve you enough that
you would have some agency in thwarting the STG. If you choose the
later, there is no going back; the secrets we share with you may make
you more of a target than before. However, they would also place you
in a position of being able to convince your mother to side with the
Underground instead of with the STG. Do you want be involved?"
"Of course I want to know why the STG are after my family! How could
you even ask?" She stood up and smacked her hands on the table to
punctuate her statement. The suddenness of it surprised Metsani. "Tell
me!"
Surt nodded, while Inkfish stared at her critically. If she had known
more about transhuman mesh communications, she might have caught on
that the two of them were conferring without speech. After a pregnant
pause, Inkfish nodded as well, changing from its solid red color back
to a shifting pattern of greens and reds.
"Rotu, you are now a member of the organization behind the Transhuman
Underground: a special covert operations group designed to eliminate
existential risks, called Firewall. Know that you are forbidden to
speak of our secrets to outsiders, including but not limited to your
own family, the majority of the Underground, and of course any agents
of foreign powers. I am Surt, the head of logistics and your handler
now, the other members of our cell will be revealed to you as needed. You
already know Metsani, our specialist in asari culture and politics.
Inkfish here is our surgeon and weapons developer. Your job for the
moment, is to stay alive."
"Just like that, I'm a spy? That seems a little too easy."
"Of course not. You were under surveillance for months before I showed
you the advertisement that you brought before the RIIS."
"Why were you watching me in the first place?"
Surt inclined his head, appearing to consider his words carefully. "It
is what I do. Nothing personal, of course. So many on this world take
offense at the thought of being watched all the time. Please consider
it a transhuman habit, and nothing more."
Metsani tapped her finger on the table. "Its true," she nodded. "The
very first thing the transhumans did when they arrived on Illium was
to put up networked cameras called 'spimes'. There's a whole world of
surveillance that the Nos Astra administrators are unaware of.
Culturally speaking, the transhuman attitude towards such things is
the opposite of our own. Instead of ubiquitous surveillance destroying
privacy, it keeps everyone accountable through open access records.
Their word for it is 'sousveillance', though it doesn't translate
well. Ahem: 'Who watches the watchmen? Everybody. Always.'; I read
that somewhere." [1]
"My sister would be fascinated, but I feel it cold comfort. If you
could watch my family all the time, then so could those STG people
that attacked me."
"Well..." said Surt, looking apologetic. "We only took interest in you
because you were already under STG surveillance."
"What?"
"They found your family interesting enough to spend time on, and I
wanted to know why."
She found herself at a loss for words. Emotions churned in her
stomach, anger fighting with disbelief to choose her words for her.
"Normally, I would have simply sat and watched, but my curiosity got
the better of me. Metaphorically, I kicked the hornets' nest," Surt
leaned forward lowering his gaze to the table. "And, rather directly
caused the STG to attack you by contacting you. Sorry..."
Whatever indecision she'd felt before turned quickly to anger. "It's
your fault?!" she cried, abruptly standing fast enough to knock her
chair over. For not even being physically present, Surt appeared
suitably surprised at her sudden volume. "How the hell could you
choose to expose innocent people to something like that? Didn't you
just get done telling me how you watch everything? Shouldn't you have
known that my family had nothing to do with whatever conspiracies you
people are involved with?"
"Do you know what 'existential risk' means?" Inkfish's voice came from
outside the tunnel-vision Rotu had aimed at Surt. She turned to find
that the strange alien had swept one of its four arms out, and cocked
its head. It continued too quickly for her to answer what had
apparently been a rhetorical question. "An 'existential risk' is one
which threatens the extinction of a civilization. Firewall is charged
with preventing 'existential risks' from coming to fruition. If
exposing you and your family to potential harm was unnecessary to
Firewall operations, I doubt that we would be speaking now. Be glad
that Surt worked to salvage the situation-none of your immediate
family are dead yet. Your lives have been bought with the deaths of
strangers, some culpable, others merely unlucky."
Rotu wished she were as well spoken as her mother, but found her words
mired in the aliens severe logic.
The soft voice of Metsani said, "She can't understand what you're
making reference to, Inkfish. Maybe I should have briefed her, like
you suggested, but she doesn't know anything about what happened." At
that, Metsani lightly grabbed Rotu, and turned her so they were facing
each other. Looking her in the eyes, Metsani explained, "Their
homeworld is lost, Rotu, and what happened to them could happen here
on Illium. Firewall is specifically here to prevent that."
"What happened?"
"They call it 'The Fall'".
AUTHOR NOTE: Feedback welcome! To get better at writing fiction, I need to hear what people think about my work. Please either review it or message me via . Should I edit a chapter, I'll mark a revision note to clarify for whoever sees it.
References:
[1]: [Panopticon p12]