AN: Sorry about the long update time. I had a very busy couple of weeks and things just caught up to me. Hopefully updates in the future will be more constant and consistent. Also, sorry for my relatively short chapter. I was planning on writing a 15k word chapter, but if I did that I would have had to wait another 2 weeks. I think you guys can appreciate around 1/3 of a chapter for the moment. I apologize for the unfinished state of some of it, put it will be made up in part 2, I promise. Now, for some review responses.
Alucard Bellsing: I do not think that it is really that original. The only major difference is in the way the character thinks about his action. I was trying to create a real ulterior motive because most first contact describe Turians as being mindless monkeys who shoot first and ask later. I decided to change that up a little bit, so that a shoot first ask later actually logically made sense. The drama of Jarvis trying to keep his secret will definitely play a role in the story and the escalation of the war. I'm trying to make the Turians grey in terms of morality. Humans are obviously just bad, but I do not want some classic-good-vs-evil-where-the-good-guys-always-win scenario. I want it to be somewhat realistic. And that realism is created by having Jarvis justify his own actions. But the question is did he do the right thing? Beause you know the humans would have attacked the Turians anyway. So was his unprovoked attack really justified? Was it the right action? Is it really evil? It's up to the reader to decide that one.
GreenRena: I was thinking more of a crossover between Batarians, Borg, and Dark Eldar. The people at the very top do have some free will-ish unlike the Borg.
Kaioo: Yes, yes I have. I was thinking in terms of balance. The Turians need to be strong in order to take on humanity.
Random Guest Dude: About the Brutes, FUCKING READ WHAT I WROTE BEFORE COMMENTING AND CRITICIZING MY WORK! Jesus. If you are going to criticize my work, make sure it's actually in the story. I used the words durability and toughness not strength.
At the beginning of every chapter, I will have a line of poetry or a quote that details a conflict or event that will come about in the story. Will be a feature from here on out. If it is a poem, it will deliberately have several different ways to interpret it within the context of the story. And they are all correct.
I am definitely going to try to make more character interactions and development in this chapter. The other one was little dry on that so I will try for more dialogue. I am going to be doing metric fucktons with Saren's character, I am so excited for what I am going to do for him.
Some OC characters will stick around, but minor characters that I kill off will always represent something. Look for that in my characters.
Also, how do I fix the moderate anonymous review? I do not want that. I want every review to be seen, regardless of whether or not you have a profile.
Yes, I know that here Saren is depicted as an ensign and not a soldier. Just hold on, that will not last long. I am just trying to get his motivations in place for the rest of the story. Also, I have this kickass and dramatic plotline planned for Cerberus. I am so looking forward to writing that. Anything that might seem out of place now will have it fixed later in the story. Nothing is happening perchance, just wait and see. Behind every invasion is a bureaucrat with a pen.
NO CHARACTER IS SAFE, NOT EVEN ESTABLISHED AND WELL LOVED CHARACTERS. This story will be dark, like 40k dark, so do not expect fucking everyone to be just fine and live forever. It isn't happening.
Obviously, the italics are for thoughts. This is where I temporarily switch the perspective from third to first person.
Onto the next chapter.
XxXxX
I cannot say I'm foreign to the fact
that darkness has its mass, and depth, and weight.
It sags on shoulders, pitching over cliffs,
assuming unnatural shapes among the trees
at dusk. Inspiring visages in gray
and blue and black. It hangs on me, this weight,
and fills the gaps between the stars, at least
I've heard the theories say, and I believe...
I know it's true. I never touch the stars
but darkness settled in among the stuff
that made us human. That makes us breathe.
In empty stomachs cramped with hunger pains,
rebuking offered gifts of food, to feed
the naked, mad fix, the crawling skin, the fevered blood,
to lay beneath the curled wet boxes stacked
against the wintry cold. Between the knots
of silk, of coarsened fiber, against the flesh,
against the throat. And in the voice that calls
you home, awake the moment just before
you make your stand, proclaiming death
to fear. In ticking clocks that count to sleep
upon the closing of another wasted day.
I know this crushing darkness has its weight.
Dennis Pitman- Dark Matter
XxXxX
In the void a world was burning.
Luscious jungles had turned to dust and glass. Bright lights of the artificial kind had been snuffed out by the more natural kind of light, fire. The flames burned everything they touched. Every crevice, every skyscraper, every person.
Every soul.
But one person's soul was marked more heavily than others. Saren walked through the dried carcass, a dead city, once a home for the living. He was alone, but the weight of his former comrades sagged down on his shoulders. His very posture gave a defeated look as he trudged on through. The tall and fancy buildings leered down at him.
The fire left a scar on his soul, overflowing with hate and venom. With his eyes directed to the sky, he vowed to himself.
I will have my revenge.
XxXxX
3 weeks earlier.
The shuttle bounced and banged around from the turbulence in the air. Everyone in the shuttle was sweating. However, it was not due to the heat of reentry, but to the tension that they all felt. But tension was not the only thing they felt. The closer and closer they got to the ground, the more everyone had a sort of itch in the back of their heads.
For fear of destroying unit discipline, no one mentioned it. Everyone on the shuttle was twitching. Something was simply not right. Then it happened, the first casualty of the war.
The pilot himself started laughing hysterically, like a madman. All eyeballs turned to the insane cackling. Then, he began to scream. "For Yuri!" he exclaimed.
Suddenly, all power to the craft cut out. Turians were thrown from their seat as it began a death roll downwards. One was ejected so forcefully that his neck snapped into an unnatural angle. Dead before he even hit the ground. The flying carcass then landed on the ground and exploded.
No survivors.
This scene was repeated all over the planet. Soldiers grabbed their weapons and fired upon their former comrades. Blood would paint the cockpit in a macabre visage of death as the pilots were gunned down. Other shuttles willingly threw themselves into crazy maneuvers, trying to hit the craft next to them or diving for the ground like ancient birds of prey, never to pull back up.
Only a few shuttles that landed in the swamps far away from civilization managed to escape the hysteria that had gripped the rest of the scout force. The enemy had managed to almost wipe out the entire scout force without firing a single shot. Almost all 1000.
Almost.
Inside another shuttle far away from the 'battle,' 10 Turians were strapped into their chairs, descending onto the ground.
"Sir, what the hell is happening out there?" Asked a soldier by the name of Kaldus. He was identical to the rest of his unit, clad in camouflaged armor that hugged his Turian figure.
"Don't ask questions and keep your mind on the mission. We are almost at the LZ," responded another Turian. The way he spoke down to the other soldier suggested a superior rank. However, nothing on his armor gave it away. A gold identification marker would both give away his position and rank to the enemy. The snipers would destroy him easily. Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies.
"I just don't like this sarge. We randomly lose contact with the rest of the scouts who were checking out major population centers and I'm just supposed to completely ignore it," Kaldus said to his superior.
"Yup," came the reply. But it was not from the sergeant. The voice was feminine, or at least as feminine as a Turian voice could sound. It was Elya, Kaldus' long time sweetheart. He could not believe his luck when he heard that when they were both conscripted, that they were in the same division, same centurion, same squad. Now he wished that she was far away, his sweet little white raven.
"Thanks for the confirmation honey," Kaldus chuckled dryly. In the past, the sergeant had tried to clamp down on this chatter before battle, but he had learned to let it slide. According to combat sims where his squad socialized before doing any mission, success rate increased by 33%.
"Just doing my job munchkin," Elya replied humorously. Despite the attempt at lightening the tormenting mood in the air, it was still dark and gritty. Cold silence came back upon them, and it stayed until the pilot made his announcement.
A clear Turian voice was heard from the cockpit. "Alright boys, we are almost at the LZ. Keep your eyes sharp and your talons sharper. I do not want to be flying you boys back in body bags. I'd almost grown attached to you miserable bunch." Said the pilot.
"The only one here who's miserable is Sarge. The rest of us are just peachy," said a soldier to Kaldus' right. Kaldus didn't yet know him by name and he didn't want to yet. He made a habit of waiting at least one mission before learning anyone's name. Scout centurions had a high enough fatality rate to warrant such caution.
"15 seconds, spirits be with you!" the pilot said with finality. All the Turians grabbed their Phaeston assault rifles. Nervous clacking could be heard as everyone performed a last minute check on their weapon's condition. Safety harnesses were undone in preparation for rapid deployment.
Then all of a sudden, the shuttle ceased its monochrome movement. An electronic whir could be heard. Half a second later, the doors opened and everyone jumped out. No words were spoken. There was no need to. Anything that could give away your position to an enemy that might be lurking in the trees was unprofessional, and the Turians were anything but.
Not that it really mattered. A giant shuttle landing there would have given away anyone's position, no matter how good of a soldier they thought they were.
Just as quickly as it landed, the shuttle left. Leaving behind it the small and disciplined pitter patter of Turian talons.
Kaldus had deathly tight grip on his rifle as if the Grim Reaper himself was coming for him. The sergeant beckoned him and the rest of the squad over to his side. He and the rest of the squad formed a circle, but no one made eye contact with the sergeant. Once again, it was for the same reason sarge had no identifying rank. Never point out your commanding officer to the enemy.
In a tiny whisper, he began to give his orders. "Alright boys, High Command has told us to scout an enemy facility that is 15 kilometers north from our position. Pre-invasion scans showed that there is a lot of enemy movement over there. I want eyes up at all times. No one gets the jump on us. Is that understood?" Asked the sergeant. Kaldus and the other Turians confirmed his instructions by twisting their heads to the right, a way of showing submissiveness and willingness to follow orders. "Alright. Form up on me, single file."
As soon as he gave the order, Kaldus fell into step with all the others. Sarge was on point and Kaldus was the second from the back of the line. So began the 15 km trek through the rough terrain. Now that everything was straightened away, Kaldus began to get a bearing on his surroundings. Large bubbles of gas rose and popped, releasing methane and other terrible smelling gasses into the air. The trees looked sick and dying, as if they were cursed with undeath. The very ground upon which he tread was like quicksand and threated to suck him in if he did not move quickly enough. This place had none of the lively atmosphere the rest of the planet had.
Kaldus then refocused on his squad. Just in front of him was Elya. It was a beautiful view. The sexy shape of her fringes was like a black hole to his eyes, drawing all light towards them.
If I am going to be killed today, At least I died the right way.
Suddenly there was a shuffling of leaves in the woods, followed by a long and pregnant pause. Kaldus whipped his weapon around, scanning for any indication of enemy contact.
Then another snap of a twig breaking, this time on the other side of the squad. He was nervous. His heart faster and faster in his chest, forced to by nature's own drug, adrenaline.
This standoff against an invisible enemy lasted 10 whole minutes. Finally, the sergeant called it. "I guess it was nothing boys. Come on lets go," he commanded.
Kaldus continued on, now with a far more wary eye on the jungle around him. Many a good Turian had died from a lack of perception of their surroundings. He would not be one of them. He constantly surveyed the sickly trees and the putrid bubbling swamps.
The next two paranoid hours flew by in a blur. Again, no one talked. The rotation of the planet was slowly catching up on them. A golden twilight haze filled the air, filtered through the canopies of the trees above them.
Finally, they came to a large clearing. Kaldus tapped the ground here with his feet.
Good. Nice solid ground, perfect for setting up camp in the night. Open to enemy ambush though. If one of these new aliens finds us, we might be toast.
Suddenly, the sergeant put up his fist. Signaling to the column of well-armed and armored soldiers to stop.
"We set up here for the night. I want half of the squad set up on watch. The other half better get yourselves some shuteye because we will be moving out in 8 hours. No one moves out of anyone's eyesight, I do not want to lose anyone. We still have a mission to do. This site will be cleaned up by the time we move out. Is that understood?" he asked.
"Yes sir," came the unified response from the squad.
"Dismissed," Said the sergeant.
And with that order, Kaldus found himself going into autopilot. Find someone to talk to, set up camp, eyes on surrounding.
The first person he found was of course, Elya. "Not too worried, I hope. It's not good for you," said Elya in a soft and caressing tone.
Kaldus decided to pick up the conversation with his little white raven. "No, between a new alien species, a twitchy jungle, and a grouchy sergeant, I'm good," Kaldus stated sarcastically.
"How do you feel about the whole situation?" She asked kindly.
"Elya, we are soldiers. We don't get paid to sit there and think about our orders. We just do them," Kaldus said. He never quite like to associate anything in life with emotion. It made his job way harder.
"But you can talk about your opinions. You might have to follow your orders, but that does not mean that you can't tell me how you feel," Elya said, her voice taking on a concerned tone. She knew that it was not a good idea to keep emotions pent up inside, ready to explode like a volcano.
"I think that this is a mistake Elya. These people, this new race, we could be destroying their culture. For all we know, it was a misunderstanding. It certainly does not help me get any sleep at night, knowing about this," Kaldus sighed.
"Well, just remember that I get to sleep the first watch, as do you. I'm always open Kaldus," Elya said, her tonality adjusting to one of foreplay. Without even waiting for his response, she got up and began walking away with a gently sway of the hips.
Damn that girl. We are in the middle of a combat zone. I am so going to make her pay later for putting me in bed. Sarge is going to kill us.
He followed her, intending to get some good night's sleep.
Life would never be the same.
XxXxX
Back on the fleet, Septilius was angry. He had failed his men. A look of pure rage was plastered on his face. How could this happen? This new race had managed to take out the entire landing force of shuttles. And the worst part was that Septilius did not know how.
Out of nowhere, there was a giant burst of electromagnetic energy. Septilius simply lost contact with the shuttles. If any survived at all, there was no way to know. From the reports that Septilius received before they went dark, everything seemed to take a turn for the worse. All of the shuttles started to fall out of the air. He slammed his talon onto the console, leaving him with an aching pain in his wrist.
With fire in his eyes, he turned to the ensign sitting next to him. "Any idea what that weapon could have been?" he asked angrily.
"No sir, we have no idea. We are detecting only a few gravitational distortions on the planet that indicate eezo usage. All of that seems to have originated from our own shuttles sir. There is no possibility that this was a conventional attack. Non element zero based projectile weapons have no chance of breaching shields," The ensign replied back smoothly.
Septilius clacked his mandibles thoughtfully. Gone was the outward rage, replaced by the typical cold and calculating expression typical of a commander. After a few minutes of thought, he turned and gave orders to his crew.
"Forget collateral, these weapons must be destroyed. I cannot land forces until they are gone. I want firing solutions on areas where the energy is at its highest point. Even if they are in a city," he ordered without pause.
"Yes sir," came the response of the ensign.
Septilius sighed. Today was just not his day. He felt sorry for these new aliens. He did not want to destroy them, merely teach them the error of their ways. But alas, they had forced his hand. He would regret this day for sure.
"Sir, round is chambered and ready."
"Fire."
XxXxX
A Turian was standing above another Turian, talon held on his shoulder. They were both in an empty and flat plain with a yellow grass everywhere. The Larger Turian turned to address the smaller one, "Son, I want you to be the best Turian you can be. But do not let others say that a Turian's job is to simply follow his superior's orders. A Turian's duty is to the good of civilization. Never let anyone else tell you otherwise son. Promise me that, please," He said with a sad glint in his eyes.
The other Turian looked up at him and said," I promise Dad, I will never let others define who I am," He said enthusiastically, like an innocent child.
"That's my boy. Tell your mom I love her," He said with a faraway look in his eyes.
"Yes dad, I'll tell her," He said with the same innocence of children.
Suddenly, the ground gave way and opened into an opaque void. The larger Turian was sucked in, leaving the other wailing behind him.
"Dad!? DAAAAAAAAD!?"
Saren awoke suddenly in a cold sweat.
Damn those memories, I need more pills.
"Rough night?" came a question from Saren's right. His eyes made contact with a Turian face, a blank face without markings.
Ah Octaver. Always a welcome change from the rest of the ship of stuck up assholes.
"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep," Saren said, his eyes finding other objects in the bland room to focus on. Anything but Octaver's face. The entire room was a painful shade of disinfected white, almost hard to look at. Occasionally he would find chips in the paint that others had missed.
"Nightmares?" He asked.
"Yeah. I have been getting way too many of those lately. Need to get some more sleeping pills," He said as he proceeded to get up and stretch.
"Well I'm off duty right now. I think I'll go see Thallion down in engineering if you don't mind. Me and her got some catching up to do if you know what I mean," He said suggestively.
"If you ask me, Asari are where it's at," Saren said defensively as if Octaver had somehow insulted him.
Octaver put his hands up in a pose similar to surrendering. "Woah man, take it easy. You have been tense as of late. I think you should go grab those pills. I'll be down with my girl if you need me," He said.
Octaver then quickly got up and shuffled out of the room, never breaking eye contact with the back of Saren's head until he was out of range. Saren then clumsily got up and dragged himself towards the door.
Maybe if I can get some more sleep after this, the day will not suck as much. He said to himself.
XxXxX
A haze filled the room. It was dark and full of smoky fumes. In the center a man was sitting alone, surrounded by the void. His hands raced furiously across the keyboard, picking up every bit of information, anything that could hold a slight advantage. His posture was straight as an arrow, attentive.
Suddenly, the door behind him opened to reveal a woman in a catsuit. She walked forward towards the man, raven black hair swayed behind her. Her face, her body, were all symmetrical. It was the perfect embodiment of the golden ratio.
As she approached, the man did not care to turn around or even acknowledge her presence. She gently placed one hand on her hip and leaned to her side in a seductive posture. His chair was still turned around. "Here is that report that you wanted Harper," She said in a very formal tone. She handed him the electronic datapad. Odd how in this day and age he chose to have his reports delivered by person. His long thin hands ascended to her fair fingers. She quickly placed the report in his hand.
"Thank you Lawson. Please report back to your duties," Jack commanded. Miranda hurried like a puppy to obey and quickly turned on her heel. As she was walking out, Harper's voice grabbed her.
"What do you think of this report Lawson?" He asked.
"I think that this is a great milestone for us. We will continue to do what needs to be done," she said without pause for breath. Jack then took out his lighter and lit a cigarette. More smoke filled the room.
"Thank you Lawson, you are dismissed," He said. She briskly continued walking out the door.
"Things are finally falling into place." Harper thought.
He still had never turned around.
XxXxX
Codex: Psychics and Element Zero- For reasons currently unknown, eezo fields seem to weaken psychic attacks or abilities. It does not stop psychic abilities completely, but rather it resists. This means that direct mind control attempts or terror attacks on shielded enemies will be at about half strength.
However, psychic abilities like conjuring lightning or pyrokinesis seem to work just fine, even though direct attacks on the mind are severely weakened.
Because Yuri relies heavily on large scale psychic dominators to control his population, most basic infantry do not have access to shields. While shields do not stop the psychic dominator from entering a person's thoughts, it does reduce signal strength. This allows for people who are specially trained to block out mind control attempts all together.
Codex: Virus Corps- The Virus Corps was also founded during the initial takeover of earth. It was designed with covert ops in mind. The Virus Corps does not use one specific branch of humanity or alien races. Instead, it is based on skilled and independent operatives. Even calling it one unified Corps is a bit of a misnomer. Instead, think of it as a semi-independent intelligence organization with the ability to strike where ever needed.
The Virus Corps specializes in chemical warfare and special ops. Current estimated Corps strength is around 200,000-300,000. While the primary objective for this Corps is covert ops and WMDs, it does maintain a small and deadly frontline force.
This Corps rarely cooperates with other Corps, preferring to work by itself with lone virus snipers. Specialized equipment includes Dissolver Tanks, 'Cleanup Squads,' and Piranhas.
Codex: Conscription Corps- The Conscription Corps is by far the largest and most diverse of all Yuri's Corps. There is no one unifying idea behind each different division of troops and equipment quality varies greatly from corps to corps. Each division specifically reflects the personality of the Homo Superioris commander in charge of the division. Homo Superioris make up all of the commissioned officers who are lieutenants or above. Regular humans of course do the grunt work.
There is no one specific number for the strength of this Corps as the entire human population can technically be conscripted into service. However, Yuri simply does not have the infrastructure to field or transport such large numbers of people to and fro the frontlines. This does however make planetary invasions very hard, because unless the psychic dominator is taken out of the equation, the entire population will actively resist the occupying army down to the last man.
Or thing depending on how you look at it.
Most divisions in this Corps is equipped with only basic projectile weapons like AK-47s who have not seen any updates since the initial takeover of earth. Overhauling and modernizing this Corps would take massive resources that Yuri does not have nor would be willing to divert away from his pleasure experiments.
However, a few smaller special ops divisions made entirely of Homo Superioris have access to secret and experimental weaponry and are known as the Hellguards.
