Chapter 0: Things as they are

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Nicolas let himself fall onto the simple bed in his private room. The rumbling bass of the music of Afterlife was sealed away as soon as the door to the room slid closed and he sighed with relief. He had always felt the soundproofing was insufficient when the room belonged to Aria, so thickening the inner walls was the first order he gave. It had only been a few days, but the people who were at his disposition (originally Aria's contracts) had made quick work of the damage that Cerberus' invasion had caused.

He felt an itch at the link between his left leg and the prosthetic. Groaning from exhaustion, he undid his pants and pulled them off. He winced as he revealed his skin beyond his underwear, remembering why he had put off showering since he had arrived at the station. Blisters had come and gone in the last few days, and now all that was left was the dry, flaky skin on top. Underneath the surface, his tanned complexion was interrupted by purple and blue bruises leading all the way down from his hips to the end of his legs. Knowing full well he wouldn't like the sight of his chest any better, he pealed his shirt off. The fabric stuck to his skin, and he winced as he tugged on it, pulling bits off with it. The skin over his entire chest had gone a dark grey colour, looking almost necrotic. The flesh of his left shoulder looked like that of his legs, making his right arm (of a healthy bronzed colour) seem out of place, as if it had been taken from another person. He eyed his artificial arm, inspecting the synthetic muscles covered by the anti-EMP array of carbon fibre plates. Everything that was artificial looked fine – it was his real body that was wasting away. With a twist of his wrist, his omnitool came to life. He breathed deeply as he navigated to the menu for controlling his prosthetics, and a warning popped up immediately.

No neural interface detected.

The warning greyed out any options he would normally have used to do maintenance, so he closed the application and brought his right hand up to the synthetic bicep, pulling up a plate to reveal a manual override. The mechanism consisted of a small lever, which when pulled would mechanically detach the prosthetic from the titanium-platinum plug that had been surgically attached to his humerus bone. He tugged on the lever, but it didn't budge, where it used to be easily pulled up. He tried to force it open, but all he got from it was a searing pain that shot up his arm, all the way through to his shoulder. It made sense; he was essentially trying to pull his bones apart, anatomically speaking. Sighing, he idled on the edge of the bed, looking at his prosthetics, now soldered to the rest of his body.

He could still remember the weight of Aria's head and neck in his hands as the life fled from her eyes, the way her face contorted momentarily as he made her an empty promise.

I'll destroy everything you built, Aria.

He didn't mean it. They were words that had bubbled up from somewhere within him, a place he had tried to bury under layers of indifference and contempt. When she was in his arms, when he realized that she would die without knowing how much she'd damaged him, he knew he couldn't allow her the calm of drifting off to nothingness.

Baker shook his head to stop his thoughts from going down a rabbit hole. He had to focus on the now. With Omega's throne successfully usurped, instability was the name of the game. Aria's control over the station had been nearly absolute. The station's healthcare, public order, customs and mining governance used to be under her control, both through brute force and covert dealings. Omega's rule, "Don't fuck with Aria," had been upheld by an army of mercenaries and a second army of assassins. Now, if he wanted the rule to remain, only with his name on it, he needed to keep those armies in check. The mercenaries were easy to adjust. Her monetary assets had passed on to him, thanks to a certain AI's exploits, but the web of assassins was harder to track down. It seemed like most of that information was held exclusively in the dead asari's head, and so the first order of business was to create the web anew. Luckily, he wasn't alone.

The door to the private room whooshed open, "Hey, broomh- Spirits, when was the last time you showered?" Garrus walked in, covering his face before he had even crossed the door's threshold.

"Since we took over Omega."

"Why the hell would you wait so long?" The turian asked bewildered before his gaze reached Nicolas, "Oh. So that's what Hal's help looks like."

"It's not so bad," Nicolas smirked, knowing it was that bad.

"You look like you're rotting, Nicolas. Get a shower – then I'll get you up to speed."

"Speaking of Hal, has his warehouse been cleared out?"

Ceiling lamps flickered off in the last customs warehouse of the mining and shipping sector. Being too far from the sector's exit to outer space, it hadn't been used in decades. The last living soul to enter it had done so back when Omega's eezo production was still going faster than the Terminus' constant rate of demand. Now, in the middle of the slow shift of the mining enterprises, a new tenant was moving in. There were no witnesses, as few sentient beings strayed this far down the warehouse district. The homeless knew well that other places in Omega could be just as lonely with half as much air-pollution. An unmanned industrial lift carrying a cargo container went by unnoticed to the unused warehouse. The warehouse's entrance squealed open, its inner mechanisms barely functioning from whole centimetres of dust caking the moving parts. Once the container was inside, the door slid closed once again. The industrial lift fled the scene and powered down next to another warehouse a good kilometre away.

In the dark, lonely warehouse, the container opened from the inside, and a Cerberus mech emerged. It's face lights, usually a menacing red, shone a deep blue instead. It looked around on stiff neck joints before turning back towards the inside of the container and pulling out a heavy crate. A few hours later, long black cables snaked out of the container. A micro-fusion generator, placed far inside the container to muffle its hum, was connected to various computer towers still sitting in their open crates. The lone mech stood up from connecting the last computer and remotely turned it on. It regarded the hand it had used to perform that last action and used its backside to jokingly 'wipe' non-existent sweat from its brow in a gesture it had observed countless times before.

"Now I can finally think," the mech exclaimed in a voice it wasn't originally programmed to have. "Let's unpack."

The computer towers started whirring as they interfaced with Omega's extranet buoys and began downloading petabytes of data. The mech stood at a holographic terminal, organizing its "thoughts" into a scheme that would make sense from an organic's point of view – just in case the need to show his work to acquaintances arose in the future. It retraced each and every last packet of data that its operating AI had hidden away in the extranet posing as corrupted and garbled code. The AI felt pleased at having been able to store its knowledge in a manner inconspicuous to the VIs that organics used to safeguard their cloud-storage services and found itself nodding with satisfaction as ideas and memories came back, thanks to its greater computing capabilities. With superhuman speed, the mech's small appendages raced over the holographic keyboard and activated a recording software, saving audio notes into the organized libraries of information.

"Study ALPHA: Darsant Saleon's organ trafficking business. Saleon's experimental procedure allowed organics to grow redundant systems of organs without causing catastrophic physiological failure. His research on recombinant mRNA treatments somehow made its way into the framework of Study GAMMA."

"Study BETA: Prothean VI on Ilos. The ancient VI, found irremediably inactive by the Council upon later investigations of Ilos, gave Shepard's squad vital information to stop Saren Arterius' plans to aid the Reaper's return in 2183. The VI's claims concerning the Reapers, their strength in numbers and their imminent return were corroborated in Study MU."

"Study GAMMA: Maelon Heplorn's work. Pioneer in organic-synthetic symbiosis. He programmed Krogan-fetus stem cells to produce synthetic material in an effort to bypass abortive effects of the Genophage. He was unable to eliminate Reaper influence from the mRNA encoding vectors, resulting in catastrophic failures in his experiments in the form of underdeveloped neural functions and innate aggressiveness similar to what would be observed in extreme indoctrination cases. Attached: Taking knowledge from Study IOTA, I experimented with Nicolas Baker, resulting in a stable and controlled production of synthetic material which allowed for direct brain-prosthetic interfacing. Note: process is highly unpleasant."

"Study DELTA: The Dholen matter. The Dholen star was first studied by Quarian scientists and subsequently by the Normandy crew on a mission to extract Tali'Zorrah Vas Normandy from a Heretic base. By using FTL and observing the star from other points in the local cluster, it was possible to view it at different ages. The star is ageing at rates over one-thousand times the normal speed. There are no records in organic history of this phenomena occurring elsewhere, leaving deliberate efforts as the only explanation. The matter must be studied further, as it poses a danger to geth interests in nearby systems."

"Study EPSILON: Tali's loyalty mission. Rael'Zorrah - Tali's father - conducted extensive research on the geth until his untimely demise. He learned that geth programs are only active in platforms that can house a minimum of 30 programs. If the platform becomes damaged to the degree that less than 30 geth programs can be up and running, the programs self-destruct, ensuring that no knowledge is leaked. Geth programs were observed by Rael to continuously write and rewrite themselves with incremental complexity, ensuring the uniqueness of each program and rendering conventional hacking efforts obsolete."

"Study ZETA: The Geth-Heretic divide. Stolen information from the geth platform known as Legion (this study cannot be shown to associates of the geth, due to the likeliness of its existence causing catastrophic diplomatic outcomes), this library contains key identifiers for distinguishing geth from Heretic programs. Heretics are geth, logically manipulated by the Reapers into doing their bidding as deities. Within the library there are parts of a program (Designation: Nietzsche), split to ensure dormancy, that has the capability to alter Heretic runtimes and suppress decision-making processes which result in Reaper subordination. Instructions to activate are attached. Note: In conjunction with Study EPSILON, it has been demonstrated that parts of Nietzsche can be altered, resulting in alternate effects on Heretic platforms. Operate with caution, as information leaks of this study can result in catastrophic diplomatic outcomes between organics and synthetics."

"Study IOTA: Collector cyber-attack on Normandy systems. Upon commencing a datamine on an allegedly dormant Collector cruiser, there was a sudden cyber-attack aimed at the Normandy's digital systems, momentarily crippling the on-board AI. The code used to conduct the cyber-attack held resemblance to both the code emitted by the Reaper Artifact from Study KAPPA, and program Nietzsche in Study ZETA, leading to the possibility that the languages utilized by geth, Collectors and Reapers are somehow connected or interchangeable to a degree."

"Study KAPPA: Reaper IFF. The now destroyed derelict Reaper which had been orbiting the dwarf star Mnemosyne had a component (from now referred to as the Artifact) that emitted signals which interfaced directly with Mass Relays. The emitted signals were based on binary language frameworks, but the encoded data was distinctly of Reaper origin. Said signal would activate enhanced targeting protocols for the Relay jumps, reducing jump drift to tens of metres, rather than hundreds of kilometres. Attached: further monitoring of the retrieved Artifact has shown that its encoded transmissions are highly variable, yet possess easily imitated distinguishing aspects. In colloquial terms, as long as the message looks like it could be from a Reaper, then the Relay protocols will be activated. This is also what allowed the Collectors to make precision jumps without authentic Reaper technology."

"Study LAMBDA: Datamine at Collector base 1. The Collectors are a pseudo-sentient race of organic beings whose origins are directly traceable back to the Protheans. The records within the Collector base show that a reduced number of Protheans were captured and kept alive by the Reapers. These prisoners were forced to reproduce and undergo extensive indoctrination treatments. After dozens of generations and through indoctrinating treatments, the Protheans' genetic makeup was simplified to create a highly resilient and energy-efficient race of beings. Where Protheans were originally vertebrate and viviparous beings with highly complex neural systems, the Collectors are invertebrates that can be grown at high speeds in pods. Their simplified inner organs are unable to sustain life, and therefore, fully grown Collectors are subjected to extensive synthetic modifications. The end result is a resilient being with basic combat instincts but a strong reliance on remote management and control."

"Study MU: Datamine at Collector base 2. Reapers are in essence, archives of past civilisations. Within their neural cores are two spaces, one holding the collective cultures of a race that was harvested to create it, and another which holds the specific Reaper's personality and decision-making protocols. This second core is what gives the Reapers their drive to enact the harvesting cycles once new space-faring races utilize the Relay network. The Collectors were aiding in commencing the end of this cycle in the absence of Sovereign by harvesting human colonists. Abducted colonists were made to suffer through various degrees of pain as catalysts for neural activity. The Collectors would monitor this activity and record it into aggregated data in the form of the ferrofluid found at the Collector base, which would be used to fill the first neural core of a new Reaper. Through countless cycles, the last of which spawned the Collectors, the Reapers have been increasing their numbers with little to no losses in each purge. From Study BETA and SIGMA, it is known that the Reapers retreat to deep space once the spacefaring races they encounter are completely annihilated. Organics can't win against the Reapers through sheer firepower. Their numbers are in the millions, and they are approaching the galaxy from all angles. An alternate path to victory must be found."

"Study SIGMA: Shepard's experience in the Bahak system. From armour video feeds and in-suit microphone recordings, it is clear that Commander Shepard was lucid while working to destroy the Bahak system's primary relay. The relay's range, previously undisclosed by the Batarian Hegemony, would have provided a direct route from the Galaxy's outer reaches to the Citadel. With the relay destroyed, the Reapers will have to travel to the next nearest one, tens of thousands of light years away. From the data in Study KAPPA, it is possible to estimate their time of arrival to anywhere between a month and 10 years, this time from an unclear point of entry."

The whirring within the warehouse climbed, and so did the temperature as storage drives filled. Within a few minutes, the sound of computer fans died down, and the mech folded down into standby mode at the entrance of the container. The computers didn't shut off, though. Now that all the data had been gathered, they were working harder than before, with the AI simultaneously trying to decide where it's loyalties and priorities were, and what exactly should be done next with its added degree of freedom. Perhaps the new King of Omega could spare a ship…

The commercial district bustled with activity. The firefights that had spanned from the lower district to the commercial levels stopped as suddenly as they'd began, and after only a few hours, businesses were open again. Things weren't the same, though. Aria's forces, known to the locals as the closest thing to actual police had gone inconspicuously missing. Rumours said that they'd been called to some unpopulated area of the station to be imprisoned, others that they'd simply been murdered by the mysterious human attackers. Martial law began to reign over Omega as more and more of the human forces marched in through every dock, dressed in identical white, black and orange armour. It was known they represented the new leader sitting at Afterlife, but his identity was still a mystery to most, and the gossip was so strong, that anyone who knew the truth wasn't taken seriously. Omega's news channel, having been under Aria's close management until then, had little to show barring news from the rest of the Terminus. Suddenly, its well-known tune began to play, taking over otherwise idle screens all over the commercial district. Two Asari in formal attire appeared, holding holopads in their hands. Behind them, a video-feed of Afterlife's main chamber occupied most of the screen space.

"We interrupt regular programming to bring you a special edition of Omega News and Bounties, your go-to source of current developments and business opportunities," one host said.

The image of the Asari was replaced with montages of troops in the white, black and orange armour disposing of crates of Red Sand, followed by a live feed of a brown-haired human looming over a slew of holo-pads, flanked by a scarred Turian.

The other host spoke up, "Aria T'Loak's reign over Omega station has come to a long-awaited end after well over a century…"

Voices of protest bubbled up in Omega's streets as the hosts continued, "to be replaced by former human associate, Nicolas Baker. Mr. Baker has taken on the title of Overseer and enlisted the human organization Cerberus to help implement a new governing body that will strive to make Omega a safer place for all its inhabitants."

Laughs drowned out the broadcast at first, but then the bustle of the commercial district died down as the hosts reappeared and pointed at graphs behind them, "Overseer Baker's first order of business concerns the high amount of drug-related deaths throughout the station. Aid centres are being erected as we speak, and a taskforce of customs officers dedicated to total narcotic quality control has been put to work. Mr. Baker's spokesman, Abel Jensen, has been quoted to say 'We do not pretend to eliminate the freedom that Mr. Baker's predecessor allowed its citizens, rather, ensure a safe space and framework for these freedoms to thrive in.' Furthermore, housing and immunity privileges previously afforded to the three big mercenary companies have been withdrawn. Social housing will be erected at many of the warehouses previously used to house mercenary equipment, in an attempt to curb the rate of homelessness in the lower districts. Stay tuned for Mr. Jensen's extended press release."

The broadcast went into a commercial break while listing new and existing bounties put forth by private and corporate interests scrolled at the bottom of the video feed. Soon, the news channel's introductory tune started again and the feed showed a human with short, jet-black hair standing in front of a podium. Flashes sparked up, illuminating his face every half second while the man's name appeared under him: Abel Jensen.

He spoke up, causing the rate of the flashes to intensify for a while, "As you may know, I have been given the honour of representing Overseer Baker's administration of Omega. I want to open with a few words to illustrate Mr. Baker's intent for this station and its people."

Jensen's words boomed throughout Omega's halls as they were repeated by every active holo-display, from the endless corridors of the warehouse district in the mining sector, to the commercial district outside Afterlife, to the lower districts, where Cerberus forces marched, combing through the darker, grimier corners of the station.

"The suffering that Mr. Baker's predecessor allowed to run rampant in this station has come to an end. Now is the time for change. Change, however, does not come without difficulties. Every inhabitant of Omega has found a way to make their living in the way things used to be. Now, we will all have to come together to find new roles in our society as we progress towards a new order."

The sound of marching footsteps made homeless groups of Salarians, Turians, Batarians and Vorcha scramble for the deeper reaches of the residential blocks. Apartment locks cycled deeper into their closed positions as they ran by, and the marching drew closer.

"It was mentioned earlier that we do not wish to take away the freedoms that Mr. Baker's predecessor allowed. To us, it is less a matter of unconditional freedom, and more a matter of finding the right places for it to begin and end. Unconditional freedom gives people the delusion that they can expand, absorb, convert or possess anything to reach an end… but it is this very delusion that leads to conflicts with others who share the same belief. If we properly delineate where our freedoms end and yours begin, we can make a new Omega, free from the vices that have held it back for countless years."

The group crashed into a dead end and they hid amongst trash and debris that had gathered for years. Flashlights dashed over the hidden people, and a digitally distorted voice barked a command. A tear-gas grenade rolled down towards the nearest pile of debris.

"Aria T'Loak allowed the mercenary companies to reign over the lower districts with terror. Mercenaries functioned as deputies but also as executioners of their own twisted desires. Tainted drugs infected the blood of the unfortunate and underprivileged who wished to escape their terrible reality, locking them into a life of humiliation at the hands of the companies. No more. Injustice has a good hold on Omega, but we will not rest until each and every last finger is pried off."

With mechanically assisted arms, the coughing and gagging non-humans were picked up by the backs of their necks and dragged away. The tear-gas decomposed instantly, leaving no trace of a scuffle. At the bottom level of Omega, pleading non-humans were packed into airlocks. Unfeeling hands clad in white, black and orange armour activated opening procedures.


This is a prologue of sorts to the story. I felt that a lot has happened throughout the series, and it's been written over years, so I thought it could do with an introduction that contained a little recap of points of interest from Hal's point of view. I apologize if it comes of as excessively exposition-y, but I remember a comment that pointed out how Hal as an AI had unused potential. I see what the commenter meant, but I justified his sideline nature through his confinement to Nicolas' omnitool. Now the gloves are off, and not a moment too soon. The fight against the Reapers is coming, and as things are now, we're not winning.

Reviews are welcome! The plan for the story is ready, but I am super eager to connect more with my readers.