Mass Effect: Augment

Chapter 3: Diplomatic Immunity

Jon was in one of the Normandy’s shuttles awaiting the activation of the relay. Joker was in Mk. 2 power armor, the suit technically being listed as a medical device in any file relating too it, and he was following the sequence to finally enter Citadel space.

“Serpent Nebula relay in range, initiating transmission sequence transmission sequence.”

The shuttles were based on the Prothean design, the Systems Alliance not coming up with a comparable analogs that fulfilled the requirements of a relay capable shuttle in case such a thing would be necessary. It shot thought the dark and raced towards its target at maximum speed. Joker flew everything like he stole it. Must be something in family genetics, Jon thought.

“We are connected. Calculation transit mass and destination. Relay hot, acquiring approach vector. Hold onto your nuts boss.”

He continued, “Board is green, beginning approach run.”

Jon rolled his eyes and stifled a chuckle, “Joker, stop calling shit out and actually do it.”

Joker snickered and pumped just a little more speed out of the small craft. It shot straight in and then curved wide along the vector it was pointing. The relay was spinning and it’s core was blue hot from ezo energy. Lighting leapt from it and grounded to the hull of the shuttle. The massive charge applied itself to the ezo core and stole away every ounce of it’s mass. The bolt then hurled it along the pre-calculated pathways of the relay. The mass effect tunnel zipped them thousands of light years in an instant, and they dropped back in with their mass intact at the other end.

“We've dropped back in boss. Drift is just under 1500k.”

Jon nodded, “Sounds like a good number. Good job. Your General is pleased.”

He turned back as the craft accelerated once again, “Good? Taking a shit and remembering to wash you hands is good. I just hit a galactic bullseye the size of an atom after only a few tries. That's incredible.”

Jon snickered as Joker turned his attention back to the busy space lanes of the galactic capital. Jon was kneeling in the center of the shuttle. He was too big to sit in the chairs with his armor. It was Mk 3, that he called project Mjolnir when we was developing it. That would of course be another problem he would have to contend with. He simply wasn’t going to give up the designs. It was his armor, he built it, he designed it. It would only work with him, and kill a normal man.

It was a skin tight under suit of hydrostaic gel layer laminated with a liquid metal crystal piezoelectric layer. It was a formulation he had discovered while brute forcing permutations to find a structure that would work to stabilize his anti-matter reaction. On the impulse of electrical charge, the layer acted like artificial muscle, adding to his strength instead of taking it away, and further increasing his reaction times.

The electric charge came directly from his brain, as it would for his organic muscles. As disgusting as he thought the Washington brotherhood was, they knew things about cybernetics, and he ended up coopting their designs to make a neural lace designed to connect to the armor directly. Given his immune system would dissolve nearly any lace he could build, he had to make it organic, and base it on his own DNA in the synth labs. It was set to grow with a pre built form factor based around a noncrystalline chip set that was another formulation he tried for his reactors. The hybrid bio-crystalline lace was almost a live organism in and of itself.

The top layer of the suit was a self sealing titanium nano-composite ballistic weave nearly impervious to all forms of damage. The plate over top was the silver-ceramo poly laminate composites endemic to Systems Alliance power armor now that they had more than enough resources to make it. The plate offered protection over large parts of his body, but segmented to allow free motion of his joints. There were attached to the suit thought connection points on the body suit, and the only disadvantage was he needed a workbench made for the task to put it on and take it off in a reasonable amount of time.

The helmet was a full face visor, opaque and almost as blue as the rest of the paint. On his chest was proudly the symbol of both the Minutemen, the Systems Alliance, and his General’s star earned long ago though both war and peace. On his back was the custom fusion reactor core that powered all it’s functions, including the energy shield housed with it. It wasn’t star ship grade, but it was far above compared to the simple kinetic barriers the Council used.

The craft caught up with it’s Asari escort and the sea of Citadel vessels military and civilian alike made way for the diplomatic procession. They punched thought the swirling nebula and came withing sight of the Citadel. It had five arms, and they all displayed the glittering gold of the streets crossing up and down them. He could see all manner of shuttles going back and forth as well. He look at it in wonderment, but he was felt the dark secrets hiding there. He knew things, he saw things. He didn’t know what, be he would find out.

The shuttle veered off from the main escort and took to following the Matriarch’s shuttle that pulled out from it’s bay and pinged the target destination on comms. It was actually the emergency docking bay for a hospital wing. It was the only place that they could dock that was isolated and had decontamination protocols before entering the Citadel proper. Even if he had been able to get the Normandy here, he doubted they would have trusted his airlocks over theirs.

The shuttles stet down in the cleared bay, and Jon got up to a crouch to walk over the opening side door. Before he got out Joker said, “Don’t let them implant anything in you boss.”

Jon smirked, “Thanks for reminding me, Joker. You do the same.”

He hopped down, and then rose to his full height. With the addition of the armor he was nearly seven foot, and towered his large frame even further over most people. He was now about as big as a super mutant. Matriarch Benezia was in her formal dress and tendril covering. She smiled, and hid her nervousness well now that she had time to process the situation her people were in. They knew nothing about the Systems Alliance until she sat down in the conference room. Now they knew perhaps more than they wanted to know. Ever should have known.

She said, “If you’ll please follow me, we will go though the decontamination procedures.”

Jon knew they wanted to to scan everything about him and part of the decon would be for that reason. Good luck with the shielding and paint formulations on everything about him that occluded sensors, he thought. They walked across the empty bay and up to the security detail surrounding the entrance to the decon chamber.

Jon knew what the first move was going to be. The Turian in a hard suit said, “You will relinquish your weapons.”

Jon spoke up, “Under article two of the Systems Alliance charter, and the second amendment of the New England constitution, my weapons are cultural artifacts, and my right to keep and bear them is inherent. My sidearm is an ancient relic besides. I will not be disarmed.”

Benezia closed her eyes and took a controlled breath. Reasonable, unreasonable, the people of the Systems Alliance were maddening. At least he didn’t bring the synthetic. She said, “It’s alright officer. He is here under their ancient right of parley, and he has Council diplomatic protections as well.”

Jon smiled behind his polarized visor. He first and foremost needed to brow beat into them, especially the Asari, that they were not some young upstart species in need of their long term guidance. That they had no traditions or long term history. Humanity was old. Nearly eldritch in it’s age. For most of their history they waged war against the very environment of their home, hostile it was to them. While most of their history was wallowing in dirt, dodging predators as much as each other, while they did blow their world up, they were no ones upstart. In fact the wasteland was more typical to human existence rather than any society they had built. They were not immature, though relatively new to space. They had a long history of one thing above all else, in some of the most hostile conditions in the galaxy, survival.

The officer steeped aside, apart of C-Sec going by the translation on his HUD. First the Matriarch stepped thought the glowing grid of light, and a glowing plane shot out from the walls and overtook her. Steam flowed around her, and she quickly stepped from the pad in the chamber, and out the other side. Jon repeated the profess, and noticed them silencing the various alarms that popped up. He was familiar with Citadel law, and was in violation of precisely 14 of them in his current state, with arguments to be made for knowingly bringing bio-weaons onto the Capital of the galaxy. The fact he was in a hospital might as well be icing on the cake.

The cycle repeated, again, and then one more time for good measure. He stepped out a moment later. The Matriarch smiled and nodded while motioning the direction, but Jon wasn't convinced. He followed here along with heavy C-sec guard thought the hall and to the back elevator. It rode down at a glacial pace Jon thought. Certainly no good in an emergency. It could just be the weight on the smaller elevator, but then why would they put a hospital wing somewhere where the only entrance was a single man sized lift. Their incompetence? Or dark plots. It could be both, Jon thought.

The elevator stopped and three people stepped from it. They waited some while the lift meandered back up again and down with more guards. As they continued thought the station section, Jon had to admit it was pleasing to his superior eye. Beautiful even with the backdrop of the nebula, and the glittering on the station arms. The sky was blue, there were a few clouds in the artificial atmosphere.

Benezia turned back some and said, “This is the Presidium, and out there are the various wards.”

The wards were mostly nice, he saw, but he saw the slums as well with both his eye and the optics on his helmet. It was obvious this was where the wealthy and powerful lived and worked. Looking around he also noticed the lack of people. It could be that they simply cleared the way, but in a place like this he thought that would be hard to do with people used to getting their way. Benezia was simply happy they did. At least something was going right today.

Jon stopped to be unreasonable for a moment in front of the worn statue of the Krogan place there, as an actual thank you for their service. For saving the galaxy. Jon had to admit at the end of the day, they brought what happened onto themselves. They became the threat they were uplifted to fight, that they happily fought. It was the Council’s fault for making the suffer the next centuries. The Systems Alliance was a land of refugees and survivors. The Krogan would find their home in it, Jon determined.

They continued on and finally reach the elevator to the Council chambers. Once again they had to repeat their ritual; Jon, the Matriarch, and a guard first, and the rest next. When the first three got up and stepped out, Benezia took a deep breath in and nearly broke entirely.

“By the Godless” she whispered.

Jon simply laughed at the sight. The reason why the Presidium was empty, was because anyone that could jam themselves into the chambers and antechamber has done so for the occasion.

Benezia said, “I did not know this was happening. I hoped for a private meeting.”

Jon said, “No, they wanted this trial to be public. Which is good, because now I get to turn it into a spectacle.”

Jon strode forward without prompting, and began cutting thought the crowd. They had already left a path though in preparation, being forced by the guards. But they all tried to get back a little further as he passed them.

He heard off to the side, “And it appears the Systems Alliance has sent a mech to stand trial. Rumors swirl that they use synthetics even as high ranking officers. The charges will no doubt be confirmed by the Council. This could be an explosive first contact.”

Jon cranked his head directly into the camera, and didn’t stop borrowing into it with his visor as he walked, and craned his head as far as it would go until he snapped it back and kept marching. He got up the steps and entered the Chamber proper. Benezia did her best to keep up to his quick pace. He strode down to the platform from which the Council is addressed.

The Turian Councilor was to his left, arms crossed with an angry look in his eye. In the middle was the Asari Councilor, Tevos, the only name he bothered to remember. She was holding herself well, but Jon could tell the Matriarch was sweating as much as Benezia. It was likely Benezia reported directly to her, having the Salarian vote to send a diplomat, but now she lost that support on how exactly the meeting would go with the new information they got. Off to the right, was the Salarian, remaining calm and collected, hands clasped in front of their body.

The Turian spoke first, “This trial is hereby convened. The Systems Alliance stands accused of several gross violations of galactic law.”

Jon cut it, “Objection your dishonor,” The crowed gasped, “Citadel law does not apply to the Systems Alliance, as we are a sovereign state. Question to the court, does the Councilor know the definition of that term?”

The Turian glared, and the Salarian took over, “It matters no how sovereign you think you are. These laws apply to all, and for very good reason. You stand accused of first and foremost, your utilization of synthetics, a proven danger to the galaxy. You also have admitted personally to using nuclear weaponry on life bearing worlds, your own home world no less, and your species is-”

Jon interrupted, “Do you understand that you are at war?”

The Turian spoke up again, “With a species that has not colonized the garden worlds you found, by your own admission, and has a relay in your home system that we will find.”

“Do you think that means anything? Other then that we are responsible with galactic bio-diversity, and that you will come though pre-determined kill zones? I also call a point of order in that you quote, finding our relay, will break, quote, one of your highest laws. A law we were falsely accused of breaking.”

“And then in the investigation we found you are worse than the Krogan.”

“Fruit of the poison tree, our civilized society calls it.”

“Civilized! You! Personally! Nuked your home world!”

“The damage was done. Very few alive today remember the Great War, and no one alive today had any part in it. If they did, they were executed long ago. But that doesn’t change the fact that the damage was already done, and nuclear weapons are simply bombs of terrible power on Earth. Every bit of life on our pale blue dot is resistant, or outright immune to radiation, and that includes the life we've reseeded from before the war. I still however do not see what business this Council has in a sovereign state’s rules of engagement. In particular I do not see why you are complaining about these rules of engagement when they are the only thing keeping your fleets alive as you attempt to invade our territory.”

The Turian growled back, “Is that a that threat? The Turians have been the might of this Council for hundreds of years. Your Systems Alliance will be a spark in the fire when we quarantine you to your precious Earth.”

Jon stood motionless and in silence as he stared the Turian down. It went on a moment, then a moment more, then the Turian Councilor, all of them, got the message on their private comms. Emergency comms. The Turian fleet surrounding the Citadel ad just went offline. EDI had given him a party favor as she called it.

A virus bomb targeting Turian ships should it be required. Eventually they would realize they needed to keep their comm systems quarantined from the rest of their systems, to isolate her attacks before they infect the network. Today was not the day they understood that. They had after all only been at war for a few days.

The Turian’s eye twitched as he got the news, and was about to make an order when Tevos stepped in. Jon saw her hard look to her Salarian counterpart, and his resigned nod. The Salarians wanted their tech. They thought they could use the Turians to overwhelm the System’s Alliance with numbers as long as they could find their home system. Now they were practically defenseless, and his gambit was though.

Tevos said, “This pubic meeting is adjourned. Private deliberations will continue.”

It took upwards of ten minutes for the crowed to disperse, mostly quietly. The things they heard scared them. Worse than the Krogan? What was going on they wondered. Were they really at war?

They shuffled out by the laboriously slow elevator while the Turian and Jon were still engaged in contest. When they finally had, and C-sec pushed the last few stragglers out, all that remained were the representatives of the various species of the Citadel who could only observe.

The Turian yelled, “Arrest him!”

“Belay that!” Tevos yelled.

“Are you mad!? That thing just-” The Turian was cut off by an angry Tevos, her biotics flaring. She now had the Salarian support and could conduct things her way.

“Are you mad!? It’s because of that!” She yelled.

She calmed down and continued, “It is only because of you that we are in this mess. You will remain silence for the rest of these negotiations.”

“You should have reported this first contact when you got the information. Not hidden it until you had a new client species.” The Salarian almost meekly agreed.

She turned to the Salarian, but said nothing. They would face consequences as well, as they probably knew what the Turians knew when they knew it. The only one that had to find out about it was Tevos.

She turned to speak to Jon, and he interceded her. He said, “First and foremost. This Council needs to acknowledge that they are in a state of war. Peace negotiations can not take place until we have a common understanding.”

She said, “Then we do. The Council and Systems Alliance are engaged in war. You are here to represent your people during peace negotiations, General Sheppard.”

Jon nodded, “Excellent. Now we can get serious. I’m sure in the longer term you’ll devise ways around our trickery, but in the immediate term there's basically nothing you can do to stop us. Is that also understood between us?”

She took a deep breath in, not wanting to admit it outright, but it was also the truth. However he did it, he just took the might of the Council out of action without making a single move. Damn the Turians, she thought.

She said, “That is also understood. I must ask, how exactly did this war start? That is unclear to at least me, if not my counterparts.”

The Salarian said, “That is unclear as me as well.”

Which meant it was unclear to the Turians as well. The message sent back was short and to the point, and went thought the Turian command chain. They of course sent more ships to do as the Salarian said. Report the first contact after they had a new client species. Surely more ships can take out the lone ship, right? It was the Turians one trick endemic to their doctrine and history.

What Jon would play for them through his suit speakers would damn the Turian councilor personally if not the entire empire. He played the initial conversation and thought to when the mutiny really started. Three times had the SRV Normandy appealed for peace. Twice technically with a final choice and warning. Tevos glared daggers at her Turian counterpart. It didn’t really matter what laws they broke or didn’t break, they were a ship of exploration whose primary mission was seeking out new civilizations like the Citadel.

Tevos was furious. Sure there would have been problems after an exchange of information, but they could have at least met peacefully. They could have at least started off with a lukewarm relationship rather than a hostile on. There were no bio-wepaons or nuclear weapons, or threats of violence on their first meeting. There was just a people that wanted to greet others in peace after a long history of war.

Then being met with war even after the General correctly said matters of the law were for their leaders. The only point the weapons officer was wrong on was that the Admiral was violating the law, because he technically wasn't. That was the only thread keeping her from breaking that Salarian over her knee until the Turians were expelled from the Council entirely. These people were more Goddess damned advanced than the Protheans ever could dream to be right out of the gate, possibly more war like than the Krogan, and they dare anger them? To bring that destruction upon the rest of the Citadel?

She had to ask the inevitable question. The Citadel had lost the first contact war with the Systems alliance. They'd have to find Earth first, and the General was right. They would never set one foot on Earth, even if they got around their tricks. Hacking the entire Turian Citadel fleet was just a trick to them. They would build their strength and then carve a path though the network until Alliance troops stood in the very halls of the Council chamber. At least they had clear and civilized rules of engagement. Unlike the Turians at times.

She asked, “What would peace with the Systems Alliance look like?”

Jon smiled behind his visor. He said, “My people truly are reasonable. We do not demand much. For the low low price of the entire Attican Traverse, you can buy peace from the Systems Alliance. A good old fashion bribe.”

Tevos rose her eyebrow. Now that was a low price. Almost a profit. Most of it was unclaimed and the rest was, “This is preposterous! That is Batarian Territory!”

She politely said, “Order in the Chamber. These are Council Deliberations. If it really was your territory, you would have developed it by now.”

The Batarian in an officer uniform replete with medals and half cape marched out to a more central spot, but not to close to Jon. He said, “Because of your racist sanctions! Oh, we have persevered, we have put up with your cultural biases, but we will not consider handing away Batarian territory!”

Jon turned his visor and started into the barbarians sneering insectoid face. He had wrinkles all around, hairs and whiskered poking from every which way. Four beady black eyes. Jon depolarized his visor and the Batarian representative sneered further. So it wasn't some mech, but a lesser that couldn’t even have both of their eyes.

Jon said, “Keep in mind, any peace deal with the Citadel Council, does not extend to the Batarian Hegemony. We will not tolerate slavery so close to our borders.”

“Deal.” Was all Tevos said, and peace was made.

She hadn’t finished her single word sentence when Jon’s Singer cleared leather.