A Cursed Galaxy (Mass Effect AU, Commission) 1 (Patreon)

“Well, what about Shepard? He grew up in the colonies.”

“He knows how tough life can be out there. His family was killed when slavers attacked Mindoir.”

“He single handedly wiped out the pirate base on the moon of Torfan. That sort of carnage leaves a mark, even for us.”

“He gets the job done, no matter what the cost.”

“Is that the kind of person we want protecting the galaxy?”

“That’s the only kind of person who can protect the galaxy.”

“I’ll make the call.”

[hr][/hr]

“Arcturus Prime relay in range, initiating transmission sequence.” The pilot’s voice rang out over the intercom, and Nihlus shifted nervously in the communications room. Human’s built big and the space seemed cavernous in the dim light they preferred. “We are connected, calculating transit mass and destination.” The pilot continued his announcement, and Nihlus began counting down the seconds until they’d jump. Normally he would be on the bridge, standing next to the pilot to watch the jump. But humans made him nervous. He’d seen the videos of Shanxi, Torfan, Elysium, Mindoir, and half a dozen other conflicts. He’d seen what happened to anyone who pushed a human too far and the communication room’s single entrance made him feel safer. “Relay is hot, acquiring approach vector. All stations secure for transit.”

Humans had peeled the mask off of the universe, in a way the Turians had never truly felt comfortable with. Exposing the dark secrets most races had tried to hide from each other in gruesome fashion. Nihlus was willing to work with them, to prove that not everything that lurked in the dark was to be feared. But he couldn’t help putting his back to the wall, even on friendly ships, near humans he knew were his allies.

“Board is green, approach run has begun,” The pilot disturbed his thoughts with another announcement, “Hitting the relay in three… two… one…” The ship, the SR1-Normandy, an experimental craft made by a coalition of Turians and Humans shuddered as the energy of the relay engulfed it. Half a moment later there was a twinge of acceleration and the ship was sent careening across the galaxy by the relay. It would only be a few minutes before they arrived at Eden Prime.

The doors to the communication room slid open, once again drawing him from his thoughts, “Nihlus,” his heart skipped a beat, and he had to resist the urge to draw his shotgun. The Human Captain was wearing the skin tight combat uniform they preferred, with none of the armor plating, except for around the forearms. But those were attachment points and not actual armor. It marked him as a warrior of great skill and danger, a fact that was conveniently left out of his dossier on the man.

“How are you holding up?” Despite the man’s deep gravelly voice, his tone was kind, friendly even. It did almost nothing to set him at ease.

His mandibles twitched, “I still find myself reaching for my night vision lenses when I’m roaming about, you humans love the darkness.”

The captain shrugged, “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’ll have to, if I’m to put the Commander through his paces.”

“Are you worried about whether Shepard can handle…”

“You misunderstand, I have no doubt about the man’s combat prowess. It is how he handles himself outside of battle that I’ll be observing. I’ve seen the footage of Torfan.” Nihlus suppressed a shudder, “He earned that nickname. I almost felt sorry for those slavers.”

“A common sentiment, among council races.” Anderson said, “Most humans on the other hand think he was too… diplomatic in his approach.”

That threw Nihlus for a loop, “Diplomatic?” he asked, “They had to spend weeks sorting through the remains.”

“He gave them until five to surrender.” Anderson explained. “Most Hellhounds would have just massacred them.”

“I see…” Nihlus’s response was interrupted by the beep of the communication equipment.

“Message coming through, Captain.” the pilot announced.

Anderson activated the system’s display, filling the communication room with the guttural combat pidgin the Human’s soldiers used. Nihlus’s stomach felt like it dropped onto the floor as he saw what the humans were fighting. “Geth… get the Commander in here now.”

[hr][/hr]

Commander John Shepard watched the communication playback again, jaw set tightly, grim expression on his face. He was already kitted out for a ground mission, as was his habit since Torfan. Fighting naked through an enemy base after his ship got blown out of the sky due to hidden anti air deployments once was one time too many. He doubted this new ship would fall prey to that tactic, especially with Joker at the helm (a man that was assigned to the Normandy specifically to avoid the experimental model succumbing to such a fate), but one could never be too safe.

“Tell Alenko and Jenkins to suit up, Commander.” Captain Anderson growled, “You’re going in.”

“Understood sir,” Shepard said, his skin itching in anticipation and preparation for the fight to come.

The fact that there had been a Prothean Beacon discovered on Eden Prime of all places was surprising enough, but he hadn’t been expecting to see geth in the distress call. Reaching the landing bay, he waited for Jenkins and Alenko to finish attaching their weapons to their combat suits before speaking.

“Our primary objective will be to secure the Beacon,” he said, both men snapping to attention. “Jenkins, your file lists Eden Prime as your homeworld. What can you tell us?”

“Sir,” Jenkins saluted, trying to remain composed but the anxiety practically wafted off of him. “It was claimed and settled about three years after First Contact, in the equivalent of the very early Cambrian Period on Earth. All native life lives in the ocean, so the Alliance brought over plant and animal life from Earth. The majority of the planet’s industry revolves around big game hunting.

“From what the Captain said, the Beacon was discovered in a region that was terraformed after the mammoth steppes in the Ice Age. I’ve got an uncle who was part of the team that is in charge of managing the herds of wooly mammoths, rhinos, and the other ice age animals brought back through cloning.”

Shepard nodded, satisfied with the man's answer. Jenkins was clearly nervous and concerned for the people he knew, but his briefing had been clear and concise. And more importantly, relevant. Shepard looked at Alenko next, who was looking down at his omnitool, looking over the distress call frame by frame.

“Commander, do we have any information about this ship?” the man asked, pointing to the strange ship caught in a few frames of the distress call.

“Nothing on record, though based on analysis by Alliance VIs it is estimated to be two kilometers in height,” Shepard answered. “The fact that it was able to make planetfall indicates that it possesses a drive core, or equivalent, of both extreme size and more advanced than what is found among Council races. If that level of technology is equal among the ground forces, expect heavy resistance. When possible, avoid taking fire, do not rely on your kinetic barriers to protect you.”

“Yes sir,” both men said, snapping to attention.

Turning around to face the sound of oncoming footsteps, Shepard took a moment to examine Nihlus. The turian was in the same armor he’d been wearing the entire time he was on the Normandy, though his posture and the way he carried himself had changed. Less like caged prey seeking an exit, and more like a cautious predator, surrounded by other predators that weren’t part of its pack.

“Nihlus, you coming with us?” Jenkins asked, his voice still containing a hint of concern, but it was masked by curiosity and a measure of excitement.

“I move faster on my own,” the Spectre responded, double checking his loadout.

“We are approaching drop point one,” Joker said over the comms, as the hangar bay door lowered and Nihlus leapt out.

Turning back to Jenkins and Alenko, Shepard had one last thing to say before they deployed, “Gentlemen, let’s hunt.”

A pair of laughs were his response as the three leapt from the Normandy as it hovered over the second drop point, more than twice as high as it had for Nihlus. The geth had attacked a human colony, a dangerous prospect even when populated entirely by civilians. It was time to show the geth why that was a deadly mistake.

[hr][/hr]

Nihlus was glad to be off the Normandy, even if it meant finding himself neck deep in a firefight. An analysis of the rounds that were stopped by his kinetic barrier after the initial squad of geth were scrapped showed that they’d come prepared. It had taken decades for the Council to discover that particular weakness of humans, and even now to Nihlus’s knowledge only Spectres and the Council themselves were cleared for it.

So it was probable that the geth had hacked into the Archives, which was a very serious matter. Quickly compiling a report, as secure as he could make it, he continued on.

The region he’d been dropped off at was filled with wooden structures, ‘log cabins’ he believed they were referred to, most of them with some manner of bone decorations on the outside. The small part of his mind that was not focused on the mission made note of the tusked skulls that were taller than himself. He could think of some from his old platoon that would be interested in making a trip here to hunt such creatures.

That same part continued to make mental notes as he passed by the impaled humans, taking a scan of the devices and forming a rudimentary hypothesis as to their purpose. Psychological warfare seemed unlikely, as any who had done even the most basic research into humans would know that such an act would only enrage them; and an enraged human was more dangerous than a krogan in a blood rage.

Unfortunately, whatever the devices were doing, Nihlus couldn’t determine by looking at the scans. Jondam might, but he was ill suited for direct combat. Compiling a file to send to the salarian, he saved it in the same location as the report for the Council.

He was about to move on, when the spikes closest to him lowered, the humans on them getting to their feet. Cold, cybernetic eyes turned to Nihlus, letting out a rasping gasp and racing towards him. In an instant, Nihlus’s shotgun was up and three shots had been fired.

The human bodies fell, and Nihlus nearly sagged in relief. Whatever the geth were doing to reanimate humans, it appeared to only work on the human body, the curse that every human was born with not continuing after death.

Making an addendum to the file to send to Jondam, he continued on, heading to the dig site. Even from this distance, he could hear the sound of heavy weapons, the shredding of metal, and the sounds of humans enjoying their ‘hunt’. A cold chill ran down Nihlus’s spine as he reached the dig site, seeing the remains of geth than had been torn apart by the omni-blades that so many human soldiers favored.

The Beacon was missing, and a hacked datapad showed that it had been moved to the spaceport that morning, in preparation for the Normandy’s arrival. His next destination set, he continued on.

When he arrived, he was shocked to see someone he recognized, “Saren?”

[hr][/hr]

In the year 2058, humanity was forever changed. Ninety years later, explorers on Mars discovered the remains of an ancient spacefaring civilization. In the decades that followed, these mysterious artifacts revealed startling new technologies, the basis for this incredible technology was a force that controlled the very fabric of space and time.

For the rest of the galaxy, the arrival of humanity shined a light into the dark corners they had tried to forget existed, reminding them that there are still things that go bump in the night.