If someone from Bioware reads this, they'll know what I own and what I don't. Don't sue me.
They're also quite free to use any story elements I've come up with... for a certain limited fee of course. ;)
Longer A/N at the end.
Chapter 3:
III: "Prepare for unforseen consequences"
9th September 2185: Still somewhere I shouldn't be - 12:34 PM
My body snaps around in shock.
Sitting on one of the many overflowing dumpsters in the backalley I currently happen to be in, is a Turian.
Wait...
There is something uncannily familiar about him.
At least I think it's a him, judging by the masculine, steely baritone voice of his – coupled with the fact that I never got to see any female Turians, and he looks identical to how I remember the species from the game.
His scales are in a light gray tone. He is dressed quite simply, but elegantly and clear cut. He wears what what looks like a simple white linen tunic, with matching pants, completely lacking in any ceremonial embroideries or the like. He also wears that weird little hat thing that seems to be customary for many Turians in important positions.
Then there's his facial markings. There isn't anything special about the colour – just a plain white. What catches my eye is the shape. Two semi circles, each spread about the corresponding half of his face. They're completely different from any markings I remember seeing in the Mass Effect universe.
The most noteworthy thing about him isn't his dresscode or appearance though - it's the aristocratic aura of distanced superiority which he seems to almost radiate.
Even here, on what clearly is one of the deepest cesspits in galaxy, the alien carries himself with nothing short of regal posture.
In other words, he's about as unconspicuous in his current environment as a great blue whale in the Sahara desert.
In the manner of a monarch temporarily stepping down from his postion of divine superiority, he reluctantly flicks away some grime that must have rubbed off on his pants from the dumptser he is currently seated upon.
Despite the undisputed respect his very prescence seems to demand, there is nothing frightening about him. For some inexplicable reason, I feel convinced that this Turian man is here to help me, and means me no harm.
The Dumpster Despot raises his head, from having looked down into his lap with theatrical slowness. He looks me in the eye, nodding downwards, towards the dirty ground, littered with the rotting remains of meals thrown away long ago, with a lightly disgusted grimace.
I ask the question that just begs to be posed.
"Should I know you?"
The Turian clasps his hands, and leans forward slightly, elbows on his thighs in a very analytical pose.
"A very intriguing human expression."
I blink.
That was unexpected.
"Is one truly capable of "knowing" another, in the full sense of the word?" He makes a dramatic pause.
Seeing as I just got here, I'm not an expert on interpreting the facial expressions of alien races, but I think he is staring at me intently with what a very analytical, perhaps even somewhat of a humourous expression.
The Turian bends his upper body downwards to and makes an elegant leap down from his dumpster throne, graciously making a perfect landing.
He looks down at his attire again, and nonchalantly uses both of his hands to clear it of some dust.
He slowly starts walking towards me.
"There is for example, not a single Turian dialect where asking if "one knows another" passes for an introduction." He stops a couple of metres infront of me.
"Perhaps that simple turn of phrase in itself is a small hint as to why your species is so interesting. Your kind consider yourselves to "know" someone, just by having made their acquaintance."
He looks at me, the turian equivalent of a smile on his lips.
"Perhaps it's your species' self confidence that subliminally shows itself?" The tall, awe inspiring alien makes a sweeping gesture in the air with his hands. "I have met him, therefore I know him. Because there couldn't possibly be more to someone than "meets the eye" as you would say?" Interestingly enough he says this without the tiniest hint of condescension present in his voice. All there seems to be in it is genuine, philosophical curiousity.
We are very close now, there isat most half a metre between us. I hadn't noticed how intimidatingly tall he was from afar - he must be over two metres!
Now that I think of it, I suppose he seems like something of a Turian version of Gandalf, with that deep, but still kind voice of his, his simple white garb, his manners, and those gray eyes, that seem to be full of purpose.
"Or perhaps I am just committing the age old philosophical fallacy of overanalysing." He asks rhetorically, with an air of thoughtful consideration.
Really? The thought hadn't crossed my mind.
"Is it just a matter of "Occam's razor" - as you humans would say? That the simplest explanation - being that it is just a meaningless turn of phrase, is probably the most correct one, at least applied within a contemprary context." The dignified alien tilts his head to the side lightly, looking, if possible, even more thoughtful.
Allright enough of this, I need some answers!
"But is another context truly relevant, as we-" I firmly cut him off midsentence.
"Look, noramlly I'd love nothing more than debating abstract, barely relevant philosophical matters with someone I don't know, but at the moment" – I consciously let a hint of frustration creep into my voice - "At the moment, circumstances are sort of... unorthodox, yeah?" I finish firmly.
The Turian stops, and stares at me intently with piercing gray eyes.
"Choosing you was correct then – you are ideal."
What does he mean "I am ideal"? Ideal for what? Could he be any less cryptic?
His constant blabbering that doesn't seem to get anywhere is getting on my nerves.
"I'm sorry, but would you mind explaining what it is you mean to someone not as divinely enlightenmened as thee?" I add, with enough snarkiness to sink an aircraft carrier.
I don't care if he takes offence, I've just appeared in the Mass Effect universe out of nowhere, with no clue as to why. This man seems to be able to answer a lot of my questions, and I'll be damned if I let him waste my time with cryptic platitudes!
To my great fury, he smiles his little cryptic Turian smile, and raise his mandibles somewhat.
"Yes, yes... you are a perfect fit." He says the "you" with a tone implying that I'm some sort of scientific specimen.
That's it, I've had enough.
I'm just about to start unleashing the storm of my frustrations upon him, when he starts to speak.
"But very well, I can understand how you want some answers – after all, this must all seem very confusing to you,", he makes a small pause "Alexander ****."
He knows my name! How the hell can he know my name!
"Who are you?" I ask, shocked.
"I had a name once, long ago. If you must call me something, you may call me Chronos." He looks directly into my eyes. "I imagine you might want to know why I have called you here."
He called me here? Chronos? Suddenly, my frustrations seem to vanish – all I feel is a great need to know why I was called here. A sense that that what he is saying is very crucial information.
On the plus side I already know how I got here. Baby steps.
"Y-Yes, I'd like that." I stutter, still shocked.
"Very well." He begins.
"I have searched throughout all of history, and have found that you are ideally suited for the path that has been set out for you."
"Throughout all of history"? Perhaps there is more to the name Chronos than sheer dramatic effect.
The question of how this little encounter impacts my stance as an atheist crosses my mind. I mentally postpone that for later. Now isn't the time.
"And what's that?"
He pauses for a moment.
"As you know, all civilized life is in peril."
"The Reapers? But... Mass Effect is just a video game!"
The sheer stupidity of that statement hits me the millisecond after the words have left my mouth.
Newsflash Alex, empirical evidence says otherwise.
"It's real, isn't it?" I add weakly.
"Look around you." He makes a grandiose sweeping motion with his right hand. "You're quite capable of answering that question on your own. If you wouldn't be, you would not have been chosen."
Duly noted.
He continues;
"The "Reapers" as you choose to call them, are what I was refferring to, yes."
If he is cabale of travelling in time at will, it's logical to assume that he can see the future. And if that's true, the most probable reason for why I was transported here, is that the Reapers succeeded – and Shepard failed.
He smiles mysteriously.
"I see you have already managed to deduce the reason for bringing your here on your own."
I stumble back, away from him. He can read minds! My blood rushes in shock and, I'm not ashamed to admit it – a bit of fear.
He looks at me, makes a slight nod, and smiles an almost grandfatherley smile. That actually mangages to calm me somewhat.
"There is no need for distress, I already know all of your "secrets" He does a an airquote with his two fingers. "There is no need to be ashamed... after all, you're only human."
Well thank you, now everything's completely allright!
"Your sarcasm is uncalled for."
I blink. This might take some time to get used to.
"But yes, you are right. If left unchanged, the future is one, where the Reapers will have won."
Huh. That rhymes. Wonder if that's intentional on his part? After all, a lot of old folk songs rhyme so that people can re-. Focus Alex!
"Why me? What makes me so special?"
"It is not just about you per se, but how your personilty, your values, ideals and abilities match with Shepard's."
"I still don't understand."
He makes a long, dignified sigh.
"Very well. In the future, Shepard will make a series of crucial mistakes that will ultimately doom the struggle against the Reapers. Replacing Shepard completely would disturb the timeline beyond predictability. It was deemed more convenient to simply..." He pauses, and seems to consider how to express himself, "...add an element to steer Shepard into making the correct decisions at crucial points in the timeline. You are that element."
"So you brought me here, took me away from everything I've ever known, because it was "the most convenient solution" for you? Because you were too lazy to perhaps choose someone who's life would not become completely destroyed by your little "plan"?"
Gee, it feels great to know that I've left my entire life behind me because I was the most "practical" solution. Never mind that there are people who care about me back home – the metaphysical being for whom time is evidently not relevant had to choose the most "time efficient" way?
How considerate.
"Your anger is understandable, but know that despite what I may have led you to believe, time is an issue. The swifter you would have been brought here, the greater the chance of defeating the Reapers once and for all. You are mistaken in your belief that this is the first time we have intervened. It is not. This is however, the first time we have a considerable chance of success."
"We"? Perhaps his species - since he is clearly not Turian in anything besides appearance - is the anti- thesis of the Reapers? Maybe they're like the ascended ancients in the Star Gate Universe... or something. Maybe they built the Reapers?
A million similar questions passes through my head.
"Why is that? Why not help the Protheans, who had gotten a lot longer in their understanding of the mass relays than any of the Council species have? Why is this the first time you can succeed?"
"The current council races are special, not as much for their technological develeopment or might, but because of the fundamental difference this Reaper invasion has to all previous ones. The Reapers have not come through the Citadel relay. There is a chance for organic life to prepare. The importance of this cannot be overstated."
He paces around the small area where we stand, talking to me.
"The increased chance of success the Council races have in repelling the Reapers have unfortunately resulted in the creation of completely new, and very severe problems for us, that have not occurred during any previous Reaper invasion." He turns his side towards me, makes a slight pause, and locks his gaze thoughtfully on the blinking synthetic lights that flicker at the entry to the backalley.
His voice takes on a gravelly tone.
"Problems bigger than the potential extinction of all currently sentient organic life."
That's...somewhat shocking. What could possibly fit the definition of "a bigger problem" than that?
Naturally, he answers my question.
"The nature of the are bigger issues that are at play here are beyond your comprehension – at least for the moment."
"I see." is all I can bring myself to answer – I have a distinct feeling that I won't get any more specific explanation reagarding said "bigger issues" anyway, so I decide to drop the matter.
"The original plan, was for you to be brought directly to Commander Shepard. Unfortunately, something went wrong when you were brought into this universe, so you have arrived here instead."
"Where exactly is "here"?"
"I believe this place is refferred to as "Omega"."
Oh no. Oh hell no.
Of all the places in the universe, do I really have to arrive on Omega? The myriad problems of me surviving on this station of piss and shit start to present themselves.
I don't know how to fight, I don't know how to get a job, I don't even know how to act tough!
How am I supposed to survive in this type of environment?
He might as well have put Mozart in the Harlem of the 70s!
"Fortunately for you, as well as the future of all galactic life, we have been able to make arrangements."
Oh. Hopefully those arrangements go further than giving me some armour, a gun, a pat on the head and then going "You're on your own boy, we're not here, but we believe in you!".
"Not to worry, we have included those articles as well – you might need them in the future, after all. But you will not be on your own. You are to remain with Kargesh – I believe you two are already acquainted."
Oh. So I've got a big, bipolar krogan with moodswings to watch my back. How comforting.
Oh well. On the plus side I've got a gun I don't know how to use and armour I don't have the faintest idea how to get into. Sweet.
"He shall see to your needs until you are able to meet up with Shepard – which I assure you, will be as soon as possible. You will probably not have to remain on Omega for more than a couple of days."
That's something anyway.
I've still got a thousand questions left to ask him though.
"I still don't understand what makes me so special. How am I supposed to know when these" - I make an air quote - "crucial moments are?"
"You will know, that's why you were chosen. You are ideal for influencing Shepard in the right path."
"Are you saying I'm infallible?" I ask, with tone of hopefulness.
The Turian looks condescendingly at me.
"Not quite. You will still need to use your intellect."
What a pity.
"And remember, you are still fallible when it comes to individual matters. The chances of you failing overall if you do not make an effort are not completely neglecatble either. You're statistically expected to have the best overall effect on Shepard's decisions, nothing more."
Okay, that makes some sense I suppose.
I am about to ask all the other questions I'm sitting on, when he starts to walk away towards the end of the back alley. I quickly walk after him.
"Wait – I've got so many questions to ask you!"
"Undoubtedly you do. Unfortunately time is of the essence. Shepard must be apprised of your arrival, and there are other matters that require attention."
We are now at the beginning, or end of the back alley – depending on your point of view. I can clearly see the flashing neon signs of nighclubs, bars and shops behind.
"You will not accompany me further – Omega is a dangerous place, it is not safe for you to do so. Kargesh will join you again shortly. Remain here."
He walks away into the hustling and bustling beyond the entrance.
"Wait!" I yell after him.
He turns around.
"Will I ever get to return home again?"
Chronos makes eye contact with me, emphasising the importance of whatever he is about to say.
"Prepare for unforseen consequences."
My thanks to "Shadowbroker" and Hexagonal for their reviews. More reviews are very much appreciated. The more revies I get, the faster my update pace is going to be.
Thanks to all my readers so far.
The umm... unfortunately rather limtied amount of readers I currently have might be glad to hear that my speed of updating is probably going to improve a lot, as the holidays are approaching.
Expect at least three more chapters before the holiday season is over.
I may or may not follow the official Mass Effect 3 storyline, depending on how far my story has progressed before the game has been released. Anyway, don't expect any big epic struggles with invading reapers for...a long time.
Oh, and thanks to everyone that has subscribed to this story. AidenPryde, among others.
LordOxen out.