So...Do you get what it means if all Geth platforms are networked by QEC?
Don't Geth grow smarter the more things that are networked together.
Oh shit. Well, the reapers are screwed.
Outside Context Solution (Mass Effect/Pacific Rim)
- Thread starter MadGreenSon
- Start date
Don't Geth grow smarter the more things that are networked together.
Oh shit. Well, the reapers are screwed.
Kalaong
Extinction is approaching. FIGHT IT.
This gave me a funky thought;
"Man is an unspecialized animal. His body, except for its enormous brain case, is primitive. He can't dig; he can't run very fast; he can't fly. But he can eat anything and he can stay alive where a goat would starve, a lizard would fry, a bird freeze. Instead of special adaptations he has general adaptability."
--Robert Heinlein's Beyond This Horizon
Ever heard the phrase, "A camel is a horse designed by a committee?" Humans are tool-users designed by blind, brain-damaged watchmakers. We don't heal fast. We're can't break bedrock with our foreheads. We have to give birth to our young at a helpless level of gestation because otherwise our fat skulls wouldn't fit through a female's hips. Our hands and feet have so many delicate bones we can cripple ourselves with a single missed step or awkward grasp. We have a vestigal organ in our GI tract for digesting cellulose that no longer works and we only know about it because the damned thing loves to get infected, filled with poisons, then burst and kill us. The nerves in our retinas actually loop out the iris and back to the optic nerve. Our spinal columns are so fragile that we can be permanently paralyzed by less than twenty pounds of torque. Our esophagus and trachea are so helplessly intertwined that we are the only species on our planet capable of choking.
We have cobbled together a random assortment of derangements and mutations into working minds and bodies. Like a prom dress made from carpet remnants!
The reason Humans seem so amazing is because we've been forced to live with all of that and chose not to let it kill us. We are godlike not because of nature but because we overcome it. We're too crazy to know when we're beaten and too stubborn to die when we're impaled on spikes or burned alive. Humans are God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
Is it any wonder that we do the same for everything else in our environment?
"Newton created a neural bridge from garbage and drifted with a Kaiju!"
Aliens never used dead Kaiju for anything? Lucky snots had such nice planets(complete with Prothean ruins to loot for FTL tech) they never had to do that kind of thing. Even the Krogan evolved into superbeings, and their planet was the only one in the galaxy a nuclear apocalypse made safer.
"I mean, every part of the Kaiju sells. Cartilage, spleen, liver. Even the crap! One cubic meter of crap has enough phosphorus in it to fertilize a whole field! "
Heh heh heh. The Salarians are supposed to be an entire species of Frankensteins. The Quarians are supposed to be an entire species of Scottys.
But! Pacific Rim!Humanity is an entire race of MYTHBUSTERS!
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The Geth do. Note that they "recycle" the captured Kaiju when they're done experimenting on them. Waste is illogical, squeamishness is merely an abstract concept to the Geth of note only when interacting with organics. If it's useful, they use it.
Also, did anyone else notice that the Geth have stealth platforms spying on the Migrant Fleet? The Quarians would probably go nuts if they found out the Geth were spying on them like that.
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To be fair, the other Citadel races, for the most part, consider Kaiju remains to be toxic waste. They're not wrong.
That doesn't mean there aren't a few shady Hannibal Chau types around with those willing to buy, it's just more likely to be lost in the background noise of the larger galaxy.
That doesn't mean there aren't a few shady Hannibal Chau types around with those willing to buy, it's just more likely to be lost in the background noise of the larger galaxy.
The Jaeger program was pretty much in tje decline when Stacker Pentecost threw his hail mary and closed the portal.
Their success will be tempered by the fact that human governments will want to shut down the program, having finished it's job.
Without Pentecost providing vocal support, I don't see humans continuing to pay for it.
If the Citadel races want their Jaegers, they pretty much have to buy out the entire PPGDC. Entice pilots, workers, mechanics, etc to work for them. Luckily, the aliens have a lot more resources, so they can really give Jaegers the support they need, without getting bankrupt themselves.
I can't help but think what the Quarians feel about the Kaiju situation. On the one hand, they're Space Gypsies; on the otjer hand, they might be feeling rather good about themselves, not being attacked by giant monsters regularly.
The other species also seem to be using space habitats more than canon, though. So the tech for living in space might be a bit better. But the Quarians will have to compete to buy those systems.
Maybe in this fic, Quarians can have a bit more respect, as engineers and manufacturers of life support systems for space living?
Their success will be tempered by the fact that human governments will want to shut down the program, having finished it's job.
Without Pentecost providing vocal support, I don't see humans continuing to pay for it.
If the Citadel races want their Jaegers, they pretty much have to buy out the entire PPGDC. Entice pilots, workers, mechanics, etc to work for them. Luckily, the aliens have a lot more resources, so they can really give Jaegers the support they need, without getting bankrupt themselves.
I can't help but think what the Quarians feel about the Kaiju situation. On the one hand, they're Space Gypsies; on the otjer hand, they might be feeling rather good about themselves, not being attacked by giant monsters regularly.
The other species also seem to be using space habitats more than canon, though. So the tech for living in space might be a bit better. But the Quarians will have to compete to buy those systems.
Maybe in this fic, Quarians can have a bit more respect, as engineers and manufacturers of life support systems for space living?
Razor One
When Science Goes Too Far...
Unless of course it was Quarians who were offering their expertise in space habitation in the first place, in which case they're the lead on long term life support solutions from low orbit to deep space and likely gained a fair amount of capital from that.
As for the PPDC, when aliens show up saying "We like your giant robot program. May we borrow it?", you don't want to be known as the politician that shut it down, especially if it brings the necessary capital for rebuilding and advanced technology to play with.
As for the PPDC, when aliens show up saying "We like your giant robot program. May we borrow it?", you don't want to be known as the politician that shut it down, especially if it brings the necessary capital for rebuilding and advanced technology to play with.
- Location
- Bs. As.
The Salarians sent the contact package and left the system? Just like that?
I wonder how many leaders will completely miss the point of the first contact package and instead think that these new aliens are here wanting revenge for closing their portal. I can definitely see some stereotypical countries doing that.
So, the PPDC has a bounty to collect, right? It'll probably be quite useful for buying the technology they need to get an upgrade.
I wonder how many leaders will completely miss the point of the first contact package and instead think that these new aliens are here wanting revenge for closing their portal. I can definitely see some stereotypical countries doing that.
So, the PPDC has a bounty to collect, right? It'll probably be quite useful for buying the technology they need to get an upgrade.
Kalaong
Extinction is approaching. FIGHT IT.
This is the kind of thing I wish had been in canon. By all means, the Quarians can officially be pariahs. But the Fleet itself? It should be a cross between Gerard K. O'Neill's The High Frontier and a big garage/racetrack from The Fast And The Furious; mobile mini-Citadels where everybody comes to get their starships pimped. When the Fleet shows up in an occupied system, people don't throw resources at them hoping they'll keep flying to other systems, they crowd in like an ultratech Burning Man showed up; looking for deals on older tech, bleeding-edge tech that wasn't built by autistic Asari nuns, crazy virtual entertainment pieces... Space Gypsies, yes - but really really competent Space Gypsies. Eventually the cops show up to shoo them away, but they usually end up with heavier wallets and leave behind loads of happy customers with tricked-out rides and scorching-hot L33T computers.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
The problem is that the current politicians are known as 'those guys who almost lost the war for the PPDC', when the aliens officially try first contact they will try any and every remaining dirty trick to stay in power. Including extending the Martial Law to deal with these aliens (and remember that the late Egipcian goverment did kept decades of Martial Law just to stay in power.
Odds are that there will need to be at least a small civil war before Earth opens dialoge with the Citadel. Of course the faction that gets the support of Herc and the PPDC will probably get additional support from the STG.
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Oooh, a challenge? Well, I suppose it has been a while since Ring of Fire... I'll give it a shot and do my best to post it tonight or as soon as I can in the morning.
The Salarians sent the contact package and left the system? Just like that?
I wonder how many leaders will completely miss the point of the first contact package and instead think that these new aliens are here wanting revenge for closing their portal. I can definitely see some stereotypical countries doing that.
So, the PPDC has a bounty to collect, right? It'll probably be quite useful for buying the technology they need to get an upgrade.
The "Package" is a satellite that sits at L1 and first broadcasts a "you are not alone, we are here to welcome you into the greater community of the stars, etc." type message in multiple languages, then it makes the publicly available (in Citadel space) Galactic Codex available to the natives of the contacted planet.
So it's a message of peace and a copy of Space Wikipedia, basically.
Also. There is going to be a bit more focus on Quarians in upcoming parts, only fair since the Geth have had so much screen time, right?
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No, no we don't care about the Quarians, give us more Legion!
So you did notice Legion in the last snip! I thought I was being too subtle!
Also, it's not Mordin, he's like Mordin's Great-Great Grandpappy or something
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Whoops...
erases Solus from introduction
Ok, that's really gonna throw me in a loop because I'm used to the fast-talking Mordin and now I've got his (slightly less?) fast-talking great great great great granddaddy.
its not like any other platform is gonna have that specific number of programs, right?
erases Solus from introduction
Ok, that's really gonna throw me in a loop because I'm used to the fast-talking Mordin and now I've got his (slightly less?) fast-talking great great great great granddaddy.
its not like any other platform is gonna have that specific number of programs, right?
No need to erase, just change his first name to Lorn
Family trait!
its not like any other platform is gonna have that specific number of programs, right?
Right!
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Sneak peek: Herc gets a funny message on Stacks' computer.
I was almost expecting him to say 'live long and prosper'.
"GLORY TO THE QUEENS!!!!" Mordin shrieked, pulling out a plasma laser and spastically annihilating his ship.
"What."
"GLORY TO THE QUEENS!!!!" Mordin shrieked, pulling out a plasma laser and spastically annihilating his ship.
"What."
non-canon/fanon OK I GOT DISTRACTED BY A FUNNY THOUGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING...
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Alright, gotta go get some sleep now... Anyways, I apologize, but I got so into writing this that it became serious.
First Contact: Omake
Around the world, leaders were heavily debating whether or not they should turn on the Kaiju alarms, and not just the ones in the Pacific.
A probe had been discovered. Or, more accurately, it had flooded the internet until someone in power had taken notice.
Aliens. Real, goddamn aliens.
Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Not again!', but, sadly, yeah. There are more aliens to deal with. Fortunately, while it looked like it was possible to drive them off without the use of giant Jaegers, it also looked impossible. The 'First Contact Package', as it was so eloquently named, featured a full introduction of an alien society, custom rendered to the native languages of Earth. It even had translation dictionaries in it for chrissakes!
The real clincher, though, was the personalised video that only been unlocked when it reached the computer of the late Marshal Stacker Pentecost, the very computer I was looking at right now.
"I am Doctor Mordin Lorn." the alien said in clear, fluent English, though he- well, it sounded like a he, it was hard to tell- was clearly making an effort to talk slowly. It wasn't quite up to speed, just that little bit of hesitation between words that betrayed nervousness and an out-of-the-ordinary speech pattern.
"I hope that you do not take this the wrong way, but…" the alien, Mordin, took a deep breath. "We have been spying on you for the past few weeks. We… have been facing a problem. A problem that you, humanity, have just defeated." Mordin seemed awfully emotional. At first I was mad. These alien buggers had been up there watching, and didn't even try to help us?! But then, he said they were facing the same problem.
Maybe they couldn't help us.
"From your late Marshal, Stacker Pentecost, we have gained hope. Hope that we desperately need as our civilisations crumble and our colonies are crushed. Your technology has succeeded where ours, as advanced as it may seem, has failed again and again. We would like to introduce you to the galactic community, and we even have a plan to get your race in the upper echelons of our society already. You are a small race, but you have proven yourself more than capable."
At this point, I just wanted the gecko to get on with it.
"We would like to initiate First Contact." Mordin announced. "Preferably, at the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Your world has just fought off one alien invasion at a heavy, unimaginable price. At the risk of sounding cliché… hmm, nice word... we mean you no harm. We will return within a week or so, and while you will likely remain ignorant of our customs for some time yet, we are willing to work by your customs."
I was almost expecting him to say 'live long and prosper'.
"GLORY TO THE QUEENS!!!!" Mordin shrieked, pulling out a plasma laser and spastically annihilating his ship.
"What?"
-.-.-
I was almost expecting him to say 'live long and prosper'.
"May we cancel the apocalypse together, as brothers-in-arms." Mordin said solemnly, giving a surprisingly human gesture. He saluted.
And that's when the recording ended.
"Well…" I mumbled, running my good hand through my growing beard, "I've only been Marshall for one day and this shit gets dumped on me." Figures. Trade one apocalypse for another, why don'tcha?
"Right." I sent a message to Tendo, telling that on no uncertain terms was I to be interrupted, and to get every ass that wasn't Hermann or Newt out of there ASAP. "I'm off to K-Science. Bloody aliens just can't give us a break."
-.-.-
A few days later: the United Nations had been briefed that we were actually, properly, going to make First Contact with an alien superpower and they were to, at all costs, stay out of the way.
The Wall was a stupid enough idea in the first place. God knows what they'd do given the chance to talk to aliens. Heck, when they'd even been mentioned, half the UN was ordering the Nukes be prepped right off the bat.
Those ignorant, infuriating dumbasses.
"Right, Newt, Hermann, this is your big day." Herc said, slapping Newt on the back. His arm was still in a cast, sadly. Otherwise he'd be pounding the mathematician on the back too to make sure he got the point. "Don't screw this up," he growled.
It was a fairly overcast day, almost to the point of rain, but not quite. Like all Mother Nature was going to achieve was a light dribble.
All eyes went to the sky as an honest-to-god alien hovership of some sort, probably a dropship or a shuttle, judging from the size, descended from the black clouds. More than a few soldiers were nervously reaching for their weapons, for what little good it might do them. The thing was nearly the size of two Jumphawks welded together.
The craft, a sleek, intelligent, efficient, and seemingly curious design, landed with but a hiss of landing gear and internal atmosphere breaking from the airlock. The doors sort of just slid open, retracting just enough to slide under some armoured panelling.
Clicking could be heard all about as men went for their weapons.
"STAND DOWN!" Marshal Hansen ordered. "I will NOT have a First Contact War on my hands because of a few trigger-happy morons! We survived one war," he declared, glaring at each and every man and woman who had yet to put away their weapons, "Right now, we will not survive another. So either put your damn guns down or get back inside!" he bellowed.
Several groups shuffled their way to the elevators, leaving. They didn't have to like it, but if they were going to cause trouble they would have to leave.
"Greetings!" one of the aliens, a Salarian, if Herc remembered right, called out from the dropship. "Do not mean to alarm, coming out now!"
The aliens were… curious. They definitely had the look of scientists about them. That air of understanding and yet at the same time yearning for more. There were three of them in total. A fourth, and fifth, could be seen inside the shuttle. One at a wall of consoles, and the other merely taking a peek before returning to the front of the ship.
"I'm Marshal Hercules Hansen. You must be Dr. Mordin Lorn then?" he nodded politely to the alien at the front of the group. He wasn't sure he if he should have been surprised that they all, even the ones in the shuttle, wore what must have been their version of HAZMAT suits.
"Indeed. Thank you for warm welcome, Marshal." Mordin said. Oh yeah, he was definitely a fast-talker. "Hello, Humans!" he actually smiled and waved at the assembled crowd. A sea of murmuring and confusion rose up as a few people waved back.
"Ah…" Herc sighed, rubbing the back of his head wearily. "You people have those fancy technobabble energy shields or some such shit, right?"
Mordin nodded. "Yes. Figured demonstration would be important." He gestured to one of the other two, who nodded and retrieved a mannequin from inside the ship. "Please shoot this. If it works, it will put both sides at ease."
Everyone was surprised at this. Herc weighed up his options. This could either go very well, or very, very, badly. He gestured to one of the soldiers who remained, who pulled up his rifle, aimed down the sights, and let off a small five-round burst.
A bright-blue cylinder of energy seemed to radiate outwards from the mannequin as it was sent flying back and off its stand.
Alien and Human both jumped at the loud noise.
"Disturbingly effective," Mordin noted. "But, shields hold." He turned back to the Marshal and nodded. "Our defences should be capable of protecting us in the probable incident that we are put under fire."
"I don't know if I should be relieved or afraid." Herc admitted, standing his ground.
"Will not hold for very long. Hopefully will hold long enough for intervention." one of the other Salarians spoke up. "May we..? Interact?" he asked, seemingly requesting permission from both Mordin and Herc.
Herc frowned. "I'll allow it as long as you stay within visibility of your… ship. Mordin, you're with me." he ordered, gesturing for the alien to follow. "Newt, Hermann, you too."
"Yes, sir!" Newt said, pulling a very enthusiastic salute which only really served to knock his glasses off. Herc groaned at the incompetence of the fellow before forging ahead.
He pointed to two of the uniformed soldiers. "You, and you, clear a path to K-Science, ASAP!"
"Very thoughtful." Mordin noted. "Previous First Contacts have gone badly due to miscommunication and misinterpretation before."
"I can imagine." Herc growled, remembering his last meeting with the UN and PPDC officials. Bloody nutters, the lot of them. "So, HAZMAT suits?" he asked, trying to make a bit of idle conversation with the alien in the elevator. Then, he realised he was trying to make idle conversation with an alien in an elevator and mentally facepalmed.
"Biology similar enough for diseases to be problematic." Mordin explained. "Did this for our safety and yours. No offence intended."
Herc shook his head, understanding completely. "Nah, I hear ya. Kinda cliché thing in movies that aliens invade, completely and utterly dominate us in military matters, and then a week later they all die off thanks to the common cold."
The elevator slowly rumbled down to the floor K-Science was situated on. Their military escorts had gone ahead and used the express elevator to clear the path.
"Oh my god, a real life alien!" Newt was pretty much nerdgasming over in his corner. "Hey-"
"Newt," Herc said sternly, cutting him off, "Wait until we're in the lab."
The tattooed Kaiju groupie nodded so enthusiastically Herc was almost, almost, worried that he'd give himself whiplash.
"Newt. Curious name for a Human." Mordin stated, though not unkindly.
"Oh, my full name is Newton Geiszler but only my mother calls me that." Newt explained with his trademark lack of grace and overenthusiasm. One might even dare to call it optimism one day.
He offered his hand to Mordin, who took only a moment to recognise the cue and shake it strongly. "Pleasure to meet you, Newt."
"And he's Hermann!" Newt announced jerking his thumb at the spluttering man.
-.-.-
Herc wished there was someone competent enough to replace him in here, but still dumb enough that they'd willingly replace him in here. Raleigh and Mako were too busy… doing whatever it was they were doing. Celebrating, grieving, consummating their newfound relationship, who knew?
Herc almost wished he did. Because it meant he wouldn't be in K-Science.
"Intriguing! Outsiders- sorry, Kaiju, have a hivemind?"
"Yeah, it's totally awesome-"
"But do not forget it goes both ways!"
"Never heard of individual who linked with hivemind before. May I take notes?"
"Sure, bro. Greater good and stuff, right?"
"Yes. Unlike you, we had yet to find solution to our Kaiju. Hope you do not mind, but Jaeger designs are already being shared throughout galaxy."
Herc sighed. "I would say that is an issue, but lives are at stake. Maybe not ours, but lives all the same. Focus on stopping the Kaiju, then we can worry about economies and social niceties."
The UN had been too concerned about the cost of the Jaeger project. The Wall was cheaper, and did bloody well f***-all against the Kaiju. The idea was 'if it comes for the city and finds a wall, it'll just get bored and leave'. Not even a single mention of what to do with the Kaiju afterwards, IF it had even been driven off by boredom. What was supposed to happen? The Pacific ending up as a giant monster herding ground?
"Agreed." Mordin nodded. "Lives more important than politics. Competency will be of utmost importance when ambassadors are chosen."
"The statistics shows-"
"Oh!" Newt interrupted Hermann without a care for what he was going to say, "Have you heard about the Drift?"
"The Pons system, yes. Despite our attempts to make our own we have failed in all sectors." Mordin said miserably. "We simply cannot make it work."
"You're just taking two random people and shoving them in the system though."
"Yes… how did you know?"
"Uh, because you have the designs and everything, duh!"
"That does not explain."
"You've obviously got the hardware downpat, so the only possible variable left to screw up is the people factor."
Hermann shuffled over with a blackboard covered in diagrams. "You must find two individuals who are compatible. From what I've read of your 'Codex', Asari mind-melding doesn't even come close to what the Pons offers."
"Explain." Mordin ordered, using his funny wrist-hologram-computer to bring up a more complex notepad program.
"From what I can tell, Asari can meld with anyone, correct?"
"Correct."
"The Pons is more exclusive than that. The two minds cannot be chosen, they simply are. Identical twins in both genetic and nurturing, married couples in a stable and faithful relationship, family members, close friends, those are the sort of pairs you are looking for." Hermann rambled, pointing to different diagrams as he spoke. "Amusingly enough, also in that order. This is not an exact science, and is prone to Human error. Well, as we call Human error anyway."
"But the Becket-Mori pair in Gipsy Danger?" Mordin seemed confused.
"Hey, nobody said there can't be special cases." Newt shrugged extravagantly. "Had a chat with them, asked what got them so caught up in the Drift; Becket lost his brother in the middle of a fight with a Cat-3 called Knifehead. He finished the fight solo and managed to make it to land afterwards somehow. Mako, on the other hand, lost her entire family to ol' scuttlebutt, Onibaba, when she was like this tall," he held his palm flat at a point just below his hip. "Like minds do well in the Drift, but it's not always the like you'd expect."
"The deeper the bond, the more synchronous their actions, and the smoother the connection." Hermann supplied.
"Ah, I see." Mordin nodded, finally understanding it. "This is disturbing. Those most Drift-capable also likely to be less than useful in hand-to-hand combat."
Herc pushed off the bench he was leaning against wearily. "First-hand experience, military training does make the Drift a bit easier. Not by much, you still need a decent match, but the shared experience does contribute to compatibility."
"Interesting…" Mordin tapped out more notes at a dizzying pace. "Amazing. Would like to know more about Kaiju, if possible." he requested.
-.-.-
I wouldn't really call it done, but.. that was fun to write, even though it didn't come out as a totally humorous Omake. (like it was supposed to)
Enjoy.
First Contact: Omake
Around the world, leaders were heavily debating whether or not they should turn on the Kaiju alarms, and not just the ones in the Pacific.
A probe had been discovered. Or, more accurately, it had flooded the internet until someone in power had taken notice.
Aliens. Real, goddamn aliens.
Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Not again!', but, sadly, yeah. There are more aliens to deal with. Fortunately, while it looked like it was possible to drive them off without the use of giant Jaegers, it also looked impossible. The 'First Contact Package', as it was so eloquently named, featured a full introduction of an alien society, custom rendered to the native languages of Earth. It even had translation dictionaries in it for chrissakes!
The real clincher, though, was the personalised video that only been unlocked when it reached the computer of the late Marshal Stacker Pentecost, the very computer I was looking at right now.
"I am Doctor Mordin Lorn." the alien said in clear, fluent English, though he- well, it sounded like a he, it was hard to tell- was clearly making an effort to talk slowly. It wasn't quite up to speed, just that little bit of hesitation between words that betrayed nervousness and an out-of-the-ordinary speech pattern.
"I hope that you do not take this the wrong way, but…" the alien, Mordin, took a deep breath. "We have been spying on you for the past few weeks. We… have been facing a problem. A problem that you, humanity, have just defeated." Mordin seemed awfully emotional. At first I was mad. These alien buggers had been up there watching, and didn't even try to help us?! But then, he said they were facing the same problem.
Maybe they couldn't help us.
"From your late Marshal, Stacker Pentecost, we have gained hope. Hope that we desperately need as our civilisations crumble and our colonies are crushed. Your technology has succeeded where ours, as advanced as it may seem, has failed again and again. We would like to introduce you to the galactic community, and we even have a plan to get your race in the upper echelons of our society already. You are a small race, but you have proven yourself more than capable."
At this point, I just wanted the gecko to get on with it.
"We would like to initiate First Contact." Mordin announced. "Preferably, at the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Your world has just fought off one alien invasion at a heavy, unimaginable price. At the risk of sounding cliché… hmm, nice word... we mean you no harm. We will return within a week or so, and while you will likely remain ignorant of our customs for some time yet, we are willing to work by your customs."
I was almost expecting him to say 'live long and prosper'.
"GLORY TO THE QUEENS!!!!" Mordin shrieked, pulling out a plasma laser and spastically annihilating his ship.
"What?"
-.-.-
I was almost expecting him to say 'live long and prosper'.
"May we cancel the apocalypse together, as brothers-in-arms." Mordin said solemnly, giving a surprisingly human gesture. He saluted.
And that's when the recording ended.
"Well…" I mumbled, running my good hand through my growing beard, "I've only been Marshall for one day and this shit gets dumped on me." Figures. Trade one apocalypse for another, why don'tcha?
"Right." I sent a message to Tendo, telling that on no uncertain terms was I to be interrupted, and to get every ass that wasn't Hermann or Newt out of there ASAP. "I'm off to K-Science. Bloody aliens just can't give us a break."
-.-.-
A few days later: the United Nations had been briefed that we were actually, properly, going to make First Contact with an alien superpower and they were to, at all costs, stay out of the way.
The Wall was a stupid enough idea in the first place. God knows what they'd do given the chance to talk to aliens. Heck, when they'd even been mentioned, half the UN was ordering the Nukes be prepped right off the bat.
Those ignorant, infuriating dumbasses.
"Right, Newt, Hermann, this is your big day." Herc said, slapping Newt on the back. His arm was still in a cast, sadly. Otherwise he'd be pounding the mathematician on the back too to make sure he got the point. "Don't screw this up," he growled.
It was a fairly overcast day, almost to the point of rain, but not quite. Like all Mother Nature was going to achieve was a light dribble.
All eyes went to the sky as an honest-to-god alien hovership of some sort, probably a dropship or a shuttle, judging from the size, descended from the black clouds. More than a few soldiers were nervously reaching for their weapons, for what little good it might do them. The thing was nearly the size of two Jumphawks welded together.
The craft, a sleek, intelligent, efficient, and seemingly curious design, landed with but a hiss of landing gear and internal atmosphere breaking from the airlock. The doors sort of just slid open, retracting just enough to slide under some armoured panelling.
Clicking could be heard all about as men went for their weapons.
"STAND DOWN!" Marshal Hansen ordered. "I will NOT have a First Contact War on my hands because of a few trigger-happy morons! We survived one war," he declared, glaring at each and every man and woman who had yet to put away their weapons, "Right now, we will not survive another. So either put your damn guns down or get back inside!" he bellowed.
Several groups shuffled their way to the elevators, leaving. They didn't have to like it, but if they were going to cause trouble they would have to leave.
"Greetings!" one of the aliens, a Salarian, if Herc remembered right, called out from the dropship. "Do not mean to alarm, coming out now!"
The aliens were… curious. They definitely had the look of scientists about them. That air of understanding and yet at the same time yearning for more. There were three of them in total. A fourth, and fifth, could be seen inside the shuttle. One at a wall of consoles, and the other merely taking a peek before returning to the front of the ship.
"I'm Marshal Hercules Hansen. You must be Dr. Mordin Lorn then?" he nodded politely to the alien at the front of the group. He wasn't sure he if he should have been surprised that they all, even the ones in the shuttle, wore what must have been their version of HAZMAT suits.
"Indeed. Thank you for warm welcome, Marshal." Mordin said. Oh yeah, he was definitely a fast-talker. "Hello, Humans!" he actually smiled and waved at the assembled crowd. A sea of murmuring and confusion rose up as a few people waved back.
"Ah…" Herc sighed, rubbing the back of his head wearily. "You people have those fancy technobabble energy shields or some such shit, right?"
Mordin nodded. "Yes. Figured demonstration would be important." He gestured to one of the other two, who nodded and retrieved a mannequin from inside the ship. "Please shoot this. If it works, it will put both sides at ease."
Everyone was surprised at this. Herc weighed up his options. This could either go very well, or very, very, badly. He gestured to one of the soldiers who remained, who pulled up his rifle, aimed down the sights, and let off a small five-round burst.
A bright-blue cylinder of energy seemed to radiate outwards from the mannequin as it was sent flying back and off its stand.
Alien and Human both jumped at the loud noise.
"Disturbingly effective," Mordin noted. "But, shields hold." He turned back to the Marshal and nodded. "Our defences should be capable of protecting us in the probable incident that we are put under fire."
"I don't know if I should be relieved or afraid." Herc admitted, standing his ground.
"Will not hold for very long. Hopefully will hold long enough for intervention." one of the other Salarians spoke up. "May we..? Interact?" he asked, seemingly requesting permission from both Mordin and Herc.
Herc frowned. "I'll allow it as long as you stay within visibility of your… ship. Mordin, you're with me." he ordered, gesturing for the alien to follow. "Newt, Hermann, you too."
"Yes, sir!" Newt said, pulling a very enthusiastic salute which only really served to knock his glasses off. Herc groaned at the incompetence of the fellow before forging ahead.
He pointed to two of the uniformed soldiers. "You, and you, clear a path to K-Science, ASAP!"
"Very thoughtful." Mordin noted. "Previous First Contacts have gone badly due to miscommunication and misinterpretation before."
"I can imagine." Herc growled, remembering his last meeting with the UN and PPDC officials. Bloody nutters, the lot of them. "So, HAZMAT suits?" he asked, trying to make a bit of idle conversation with the alien in the elevator. Then, he realised he was trying to make idle conversation with an alien in an elevator and mentally facepalmed.
"Biology similar enough for diseases to be problematic." Mordin explained. "Did this for our safety and yours. No offence intended."
Herc shook his head, understanding completely. "Nah, I hear ya. Kinda cliché thing in movies that aliens invade, completely and utterly dominate us in military matters, and then a week later they all die off thanks to the common cold."
The elevator slowly rumbled down to the floor K-Science was situated on. Their military escorts had gone ahead and used the express elevator to clear the path.
"Oh my god, a real life alien!" Newt was pretty much nerdgasming over in his corner. "Hey-"
"Newt," Herc said sternly, cutting him off, "Wait until we're in the lab."
The tattooed Kaiju groupie nodded so enthusiastically Herc was almost, almost, worried that he'd give himself whiplash.
"Newt. Curious name for a Human." Mordin stated, though not unkindly.
"Oh, my full name is Newton Geiszler but only my mother calls me that." Newt explained with his trademark lack of grace and overenthusiasm. One might even dare to call it optimism one day.
He offered his hand to Mordin, who took only a moment to recognise the cue and shake it strongly. "Pleasure to meet you, Newt."
"And he's Hermann!" Newt announced jerking his thumb at the spluttering man.
-.-.-
Herc wished there was someone competent enough to replace him in here, but still dumb enough that they'd willingly replace him in here. Raleigh and Mako were too busy… doing whatever it was they were doing. Celebrating, grieving, consummating their newfound relationship, who knew?
Herc almost wished he did. Because it meant he wouldn't be in K-Science.
"Intriguing! Outsiders- sorry, Kaiju, have a hivemind?"
"Yeah, it's totally awesome-"
"But do not forget it goes both ways!"
"Never heard of individual who linked with hivemind before. May I take notes?"
"Sure, bro. Greater good and stuff, right?"
"Yes. Unlike you, we had yet to find solution to our Kaiju. Hope you do not mind, but Jaeger designs are already being shared throughout galaxy."
Herc sighed. "I would say that is an issue, but lives are at stake. Maybe not ours, but lives all the same. Focus on stopping the Kaiju, then we can worry about economies and social niceties."
The UN had been too concerned about the cost of the Jaeger project. The Wall was cheaper, and did bloody well f***-all against the Kaiju. The idea was 'if it comes for the city and finds a wall, it'll just get bored and leave'. Not even a single mention of what to do with the Kaiju afterwards, IF it had even been driven off by boredom. What was supposed to happen? The Pacific ending up as a giant monster herding ground?
"Agreed." Mordin nodded. "Lives more important than politics. Competency will be of utmost importance when ambassadors are chosen."
"The statistics shows-"
"Oh!" Newt interrupted Hermann without a care for what he was going to say, "Have you heard about the Drift?"
"The Pons system, yes. Despite our attempts to make our own we have failed in all sectors." Mordin said miserably. "We simply cannot make it work."
"You're just taking two random people and shoving them in the system though."
"Yes… how did you know?"
"Uh, because you have the designs and everything, duh!"
"That does not explain."
"You've obviously got the hardware downpat, so the only possible variable left to screw up is the people factor."
Hermann shuffled over with a blackboard covered in diagrams. "You must find two individuals who are compatible. From what I've read of your 'Codex', Asari mind-melding doesn't even come close to what the Pons offers."
"Explain." Mordin ordered, using his funny wrist-hologram-computer to bring up a more complex notepad program.
"From what I can tell, Asari can meld with anyone, correct?"
"Correct."
"The Pons is more exclusive than that. The two minds cannot be chosen, they simply are. Identical twins in both genetic and nurturing, married couples in a stable and faithful relationship, family members, close friends, those are the sort of pairs you are looking for." Hermann rambled, pointing to different diagrams as he spoke. "Amusingly enough, also in that order. This is not an exact science, and is prone to Human error. Well, as we call Human error anyway."
"But the Becket-Mori pair in Gipsy Danger?" Mordin seemed confused.
"Hey, nobody said there can't be special cases." Newt shrugged extravagantly. "Had a chat with them, asked what got them so caught up in the Drift; Becket lost his brother in the middle of a fight with a Cat-3 called Knifehead. He finished the fight solo and managed to make it to land afterwards somehow. Mako, on the other hand, lost her entire family to ol' scuttlebutt, Onibaba, when she was like this tall," he held his palm flat at a point just below his hip. "Like minds do well in the Drift, but it's not always the like you'd expect."
"The deeper the bond, the more synchronous their actions, and the smoother the connection." Hermann supplied.
"Ah, I see." Mordin nodded, finally understanding it. "This is disturbing. Those most Drift-capable also likely to be less than useful in hand-to-hand combat."
Herc pushed off the bench he was leaning against wearily. "First-hand experience, military training does make the Drift a bit easier. Not by much, you still need a decent match, but the shared experience does contribute to compatibility."
"Interesting…" Mordin tapped out more notes at a dizzying pace. "Amazing. Would like to know more about Kaiju, if possible." he requested.
-.-.-
I wouldn't really call it done, but.. that was fun to write, even though it didn't come out as a totally humorous Omake. (like it was supposed to)
Enjoy.
You are awesome.
The Salarian's name is Lorn Solus... like Mordin Solus, but with a different first name.
Lunaryon
Dual Aurora Wave
- Pronouns
- She/Her
You know what I always thought was most awesome about humanity? The theory that we evolved our advanced brain and reasoning capabilities not for survival reasons, but for social ones.
The basic idea is that the reason we have the brainpower to build spaceships and computers is because cavemen needed to be better at playing politics.
No idea if that is actually been proven or disproved, but the idea amuses the shit out of me.
Doubly so in the Pacific Rim verse.
Giant monsters? Tanks and artillery don't work? Nukes too costly? Fuck it, we'll build giant metal monsters of our own to slug it in the face.
Kalaong
Extinction is approaching. FIGHT IT.
bobnik
Memetic Warfare Specialist.
What you did there, I see it.
Not that I'm complaining. In the D&D campaign I'm running, I had the Dwarven Underground Bank set up in farming villages at harvest time with their Seasonal Transaction Extension Premises.