The sunset painted the endless expanse of the sea blood-red. A light breeze, carrying the echo of the past storm, spread the smell of seaweed washed ashore for many kilometers. The chirping of coastal insects complemented the pastoral picture of the departing day. This idyll only highlighted the organized bustle at the Hierarchy's military base, which towered on a cliff above the shore.
Young legionaries were practicing marching on the parade ground, absorbing discipline along with drill, under the watchful eyes of veterans. The mess hall window, ajar, smelled of spices and fried meat, which had already become almost tough for the inhabitants' taste. The garage gate was wide open, allowing the smells of lubricants and the quiet bickering of technicians to escape.
A normal evening, like many before. Even the proximity of war had not completely broken this atmosphere; only the sentries on the watchtowers changed more often, and a shuttle, a monolith frozen on the landing pad, completed the usual landscape.
Where life had changed its course was in the headquarters. Arriving military advisors, along with the base's staff officers, had almost finished developing the operation plan. It was planned that the elimination of the Quarian admirals would be carried out by the rangers stationed at this base. The plan was based on the assumption that after the capture of Rannoch, the rulers of the Migrant Fleet would choose a surface building as their base.
Analysts confirmed this assumption. The Council of Admirals would be among the first on the surface, after suppressing the synthetic forces, because for these intelligent beings, it could not be otherwise. The planned strike would decapitate the Quarian people, depriving them of centralized control. Without unified coordination, the military units of the nomads, having suffered colossal losses, would become easy prey for the legionaries...
A thin tentacle emerged from the water, freezing motionless like a periscope. The thin piece of fiber optic cable, topped with a miniature camera, was almost invisible against the background of small tidal waves.
Having made sure that there were no patrols or legionaries on the shore, the tentacle dived underwater, only to be replaced a moment later by four heads of ancient predators. Looking around with their own eyes, the sharks from the sabotage squad swam to the base's sewage pipe, which was covered by a grate.
The Turians were not fools, so they not only installed a barrier welded from pipes but also set up a surveillance camera with a whole host of sensors, some of which came as an unpleasant surprise to the group. The intelligent sharks had to spend precious minutes carefully disarming all the signaling devices before entering the pipe.
"I heard something!" one of the guards said, leaning over the wall to inspect the visible end of the pipe. Seeing nothing unusual from his angle, the private, under the harmless teasing of his comrades, returned to his patrol route. The saboteurs breathed a sigh of relief, putting the grate back in place.
Weighing the risks and considering them acceptable, the squad leader gave the order: "Wait!" He decided to wait for nightfall, when the sharks would have an advantage over the Turians, who were very dependent on their vision.
The legionaries, true children of Palaven, not shirking but serving with all zeal, never discovered the squad hiding in the storm drain. Although the soldiers had to put in a lot of effort, it was worth it.
Taking advantage of the moment of the soldiers' change of guard, when one patrol replaced another, the saboteurs reached the headquarters building in one dash. The shark commander, seeing the discipline of the base contingent, did not dare to split the squad to cover all targets. Instead, he decided to deal with the officer staff first, as the primary task.
Under the cover of the noise from the soldiers returning to the barracks, the saboteurs quietly and carefully opened the double-glazed window, having previously disarmed the alarm. Like shadows from the darkness, the intelligent sharks crept into the empty office. Its owner, like all the officers, was in the planning hall.
There were few legionaries inside the headquarters. A duty soldier and a couple of guards in the officers' armory. The legionaries were not shirking their duty here either. The duty soldier carefully watched the video surveillance monitor.
Spending more precious time hacking the video system and replacing the camera feed, the saboteurs eliminated the duty soldier first. In one moment, a gray shadow appeared behind the legionary, sliding along the wall. One movement, and a gaping maw grabbed the Turian by the head. The neck snapped with a nearly inaudible crack from the powerful jaws.
Strong hands caught the legionary, preventing him from falling. A piece of cord, a cleaning rod for weapons, and imagination turned the dead body into a digestible state, making it look like a private dozing at his post.
A blowpipe and a couple of needles ended the lives of the armory soldiers. The operation, however, almost failed. One of the legionaries decided to go to the restroom at that very moment, so he noticed his comrade being hit by a needle and almost raised the alarm.
Now nothing prevented the sharks from eliminating the officers. There was no battle as such. Two dozen Turians were caught off guard and killed in less than a minute. The saboteurs simply broke through the ceiling in the adjacent office and attacked the target from above, having previously de-energized the lighting. A single shot went unnoticed in the background noise.
Taking advantage of the situation, the saboteurs left the building, having previously uploaded a virus to the base's network to erase the recording, and mined the server for good measure. Another quick dash, and they were at the ranger barracks. From there, it was all a matter of technique. The sleeping rangers didn't even have time to resist, and the guard was eliminated at the very beginning, falling under the crushing blow of a tail.
It was precisely at the moment of finishing off the last ranger that the alarm was raised on the base. In the ensuing chaos, the group left the barracks, located by the wall. Without overthinking, the intelligent sharks simply broke through the barrier with their bodies, no longer paying attention to the noise. A short flight, and they disappeared underwater, having successfully completed the mission and left no trace.
Nothing else was expected from predators that occupied the top of the food chain. They were used to killing. They only felt satisfaction from a job well done and no reflection...
This was harder than I thought. The New Year immediately showed that it would hit with a hook to the jaw. Honestly, I thought the continuation would come out around the second, but life decided otherwise.
The light of distant stars illuminated the hull of void wanderers. The ships of the Migrant Fleet hung in the void, where there were no colors or sounds. Only the vacuum protected the starships from the embrace of darkness.
The Quarians went on their journey from nowhere to nowhere, and only the call of distant stars was their guide, for all that remained of them was dust and fragments of dreams. They were left alone, deprived of home and shelter, doomed by their pride to the eternal cold of the void.
Years turned into centuries. With each parsec passed, the nomads sank deeper into the abyss, where they were not welcome. The ancient and vast galaxy suddenly turned out to be small and so densely divided that there was simply no place left for this people. Generation after generation, the Quarian people fell into the embrace of darkness.
The mirage of home beckoned them, as if in delirium, not letting go, forcing them to move through "can't" on the path of survival. A nightmare without hope of awakening, which engulfed the entire race, finally brought the survivors, but to the very lands where they would have a safe harbor? It was with this question that the crews of the Flotilla ships pondered in those minutes.
One jump separated them from the dream of generations. They held in their hands the power that was capable of dispelling the fragments of dreams and returning their home. The star of their native world, which gave them life, beckoned. All that remained was the last thing: to pay the price for crossing the invisible boundary.
Standing on the threshold of realizing their dream, feeling the breeze of change blowing at their backs, the Quarians did not want to step forward, wondering if it was necessary. Was it necessary to pay with deaths so that a handful of survivors could see the dawn on Rannoch?
What had previously seemed like the only correct decision... was frightening. Enthusiasm did not blind them, so their eyes could see the truth. The crews, who knew the political situation perfectly, understood that the destruction of the Geth would be the last act for their race, but at the same time, a timid hope did not allow them to retreat. This hope did not give them courage either. Everyone knew that instead of light ahead, there was only the end and the Turian legions, they wanted to turn away, but they did not.
"So, it was all for nothing?" the thought beat in their heads. The dream of home had led them forward for too long, and at the moment when it began to kill them, they could not cast it aside. Even the admirals, leading their fleets beyond the Veil, driven only by the desire to preserve their power, understood this somewhere deep down, which only made them tighten the screws more.
Rannoch – above all!
The Geth watched this with the coldness of machines. They could open passages and disable all defensive weapons right now, but they didn't. The collective of programs saw how the mirage was killing their creators and wanted to help. The machines were going to teach a final lesson, freeing themselves and the organics from the shackles they had imposed on themselves. The rejected children did not want the death of their wayward parents, so they would do what was right.
A Geth saboteur, having changed its anthropomorphic platform to a more suitable tool, infiltrated under the hull of one of the Fleet ships. The synthetic did not intend to hack the control of the hatches or saw through the super-strong ship composite. The machine took the form of what the Quarians themselves would gladly install under the outer hull of their vessel, namely a new distribution node. It only had to wait for the right moment, which came for the synthetic today.
After first scanning with its sensors, and then using the ship's own observation systems, the Geth made sure that its wayward masters were not nearby to interfere. Detaching excess modules that continued to function as a node and allowed it to continue observation, the synthetic slid deeper into the ship's communications. Years ago, the mechanical saboteur had deliberately chosen such a cover for itself, so that, on the one hand, it could avoid total inspection, and on the other hand, it could quickly reach its target.
The only thing the machine did not take into account was its creators' tendency to remodel and improve their living spaces. Where the technical plan indicated an information highway, there was now a backup air duct that appeared after the life support system was replaced.
After spending a few seconds on additional analysis and voting, the programs inhabiting the platform deemed it impractical to try to break through the obstacle with their micro-milling cutter. Checking the ship's schematics again, the centipede-machine turned and changed course, deciding to bypass the problematic communication.
The Geth had to optimize its route, which, although it did not involve a large detour, was quite energy-intensive for the synthetic's systems. The platform's small size did not allow for any other power source to be installed on it except a battery.
Reaching the living section, which had also been rebuilt, the saboteur had to use the milling cutter after all, starting to carefully saw through the ventilation shaft.
"Huh?" the Quarian stirred sleepily, lifting his head from his pillow, making the Geth stop sawing.
"Kila..." the female groaned from the next resting place. "Can you be quieter? I have to go on watch soon..."
"I heard something, like a short circuit!" the first Quarian said, completely shaking off his sleepiness.
Taking advantage of the fact that he was not wearing a breathing mask, he sniffed, trying to catch the smell of burnt insulation, having already learned from bitter experience. For the Quarians, a fire on board was comparable to death.
Yawning and stretching, the female lowered her legs to the floor. Without even properly combing her hair, she pulled on her mask, activating her multitool, launching the analyzer, forcing the Geth to almost completely shut down all its systems to avoid being detected by its energy signature.
Running her hand along the wall where the cable channel with wires was, and finding nothing resembling burning wiring, the female burst into a stream of curses, which allowed the machine to complete its work, although it stretched it out in time, because it had to time the activation of the milling cutter with the exclamations of indignation.
Having spent more than seventy percent of its battery, the machine continued its journey. Fortunately for the platform, there were no more unplanned innovations in its path, and it calmly reached the mess hall's information highway, marked as a backup for its purpose. Easily opening the distribution box hatch, the synthetic easily connected to the system.
The problem was that this highway led to a port that was protected by additional security protocols, which did not allow it to upload the necessary package, filtering it out as spam. A new vote, and the Geth makes a decision. Spending twenty-one percent to bypass the firewall, the platform completed its mission but lost the ability to leave the ship.
Hesitating for a few seconds, the synthetic overloaded its systems, sending too large a charge to the processor, killing itself. The empty platform crumbled into a pile of spare parts, whose material reacted with oxygen. After a couple of minutes, only a little dust remained of the saboteur.
The mechanical servant had fulfilled its duty. The program package uploaded by it would slightly change the readings of the navigation equipment, leading to a scatter upon exiting hyperspace after transitioning through the relay. If for the attacking flotilla, one ship was just a glitch, then hundreds already slowed down the pace of advancement.
This package was distributed throughout the Migrant Fleet, which led to a slowdown in the pace of the flotilla's dash...
Bureaucracy. This word makes most USSR citizens grind their teeth if they ever have to deal with the digital space with a non-standard request or certificate, or try to find any specific information.
The problem was not the complexity of the system, the abundance of instances, or the lack of a normal interface. State portals worked around the clock, accepting requests in any language, adapting the mental or video interface to each individual citizen. The problem was with the employees of the departments themselves.
For the most part, if a request concerned analytics or information retrieval in a truly vast information network, the system sent the request to an official from the dolphin people. It was because of them that everyday operations turned into a test of patience...
When Soviet science began to elevate the intellectual abilities of animals to human cognitive capabilities, scientists did not follow a single template. At that time, there were three approaches: polymer modernization, polymer-mechanical prosthetics, and viral therapy. Dolphin intelligence was brought to the required parameters by the second method.
The polymer superstructure in the brain, combined with electro-mechanical implants, not only allowed these mammals to communicate with humans. This approach left their "self" almost completely unchanged, without adding human qualities or distorting existing ones.
This was at the dawn of the Ascension process, when mass production was out of the question. The technology was the first of its kind, which is why at first it seemed that there were no pitfalls in it and people had gained not only friends but also good search analysts. The problem was with the dolphins themselves.
The first indications that these mammals were not what they seemed appeared at the Enterprise among a group of testers. Having been more soldiers than scientists, they did not experience delight and reverence for the graceful marine animals. Their pragmatic minds, free from blinding scientific enthusiasm, allowed them to look at the dolphins frolicking in the aquariums with a completely different gaze. Unvarnished.
The scientists overseeing the project listened to the test group, reflecting their words in additional documentation, but took no action. The sea show was liked by tourists and top management, and some excesses were attributed to accidents.
Dolphins, like all aquatic inhabitants, possessed a special charisma, attractive to land dwellers, which these intelligent creatures used very skillfully. Therefore, the project of their "Ascension" was only a matter of time and progress. The process was too resource-intensive in the early stages of development...
Reality turned out to be very prosaic. The words of the testers, which were meticulously filed in the archive, turned out to be the pure truth, not the ravings and bias of the soldiers, as the scientists thought. Dolphins, as it turned out, were quite creatures, with a cunningly hidden dark side.
This was the only intelligent species whose diet was dominated by natural food, live fish, not laboratory-grown biomatter. They liked to hunt and kill their prey, feeling its fear and agony. A piece of fish grown on a conveyor belt, in essence, did not satisfy the dolphins. In their words, you couldn't play with it, and it didn't taste much different.
Also, it turned out that intelligent dolphins, delphinids, were racists based on their habitat. It did not come to open displays of superiority, but few would like it if they were treated condescendingly. Dolphins not only did this but also liked to point out the land dwellers' evolutionary imperfections. Therefore, this species refused to improve itself, considering any biomechanical implants an ugliness, from which their neighbors in the ocean suffered.
Sexism against the backdrop of racial superiority prejudice faded somewhat, allowing hedonism and love for various substances to shine in completely new colors. Gluttony, alcohol, extracts from various toxins, after a century, began to be firmly associated with these sea dwellers. Perhaps the interaction of society with these intelligent beings would have been minimized if not for their talents in information search and cataloging, which was invaluable for the colossal digital space of the collective mind.
In general, dolphins occupied their niche, which they used to satisfy their vices, turning any interaction with the citizens of the Union into a fun (for themselves) game. The only point: they very skillfully felt the line of what was permissible, not crossing the general law for everyone, but a petitioner could not count on understanding and indulgence from such an official. A delphinid would not point out mistakes, tell where to get a certificate. He would simply reject the request and move on to the next...
"E-e-e-e-e-e!" laughed the analyst dolphin CERBERUS, Riki-Ki-Ki-Ku-E, but his laughter could not be heard through the thickness of the water of his workplace, a giant aquarium.
He was amused that his opponent in a multiplayer game set in the "Warhammer" universe had fallen into his trap, which is why the dolphin-inquisitor, instead of burning, sentenced him to more cheerful arcoflagellation. The intelligent dolphin was also pleased that the die rolled for torture showed the coveted number twenty, allowing the inquisitor character to unleash the full power of torture.
The sound signal of the arrival of another report interrupted his evil plans, forcing him to postpone the game. This did not upset the marine inhabitant, as the other player would not go anywhere now.
"See you tomorrow, Krogan Guardian! You won't burn like all heretics!" the official sang mockingly, disconnecting from the game.
Taking a still-living snack from a special dispenser, Riki-Ki-Ki-Ku-E chewed it, feeling the cartilage and bones break before swallowing the fish whole. Having satisfied his stomach, the dolphin gave a mental command, loading the automatically compiled report from various sources into his mind.
As soon as he understood the first lines, he felt a surge of excitement, so much so that he even stopped being upset that he hadn't managed to torment the Krogan enough. It was a report from a sabotage group, promising to please the official's eyes with a stream of unbridled violence!
"This is even better than the pervert forums in Citadel Space! Although they've become too weak and uninspired lately. I remember being permanently banned last time for an innocent joke, being called a head-sick bastard... They're weakening in their vices. Soon they'll become as boring as typical land dwellers!" he thought, delving more closely into the data.
The official felt even greater excitement when he realized: the report would be about an operation in the territory of the Asari Republic.
"I love blue bitches! They're land dwellers, but there's something of our aesthetics in them!" was the analyst's next thought...
"Special munition – dropped! I repeat, special munition – dropped," the mental voice of the sabotage group commander with a discernible parrot accent sounded in the dolphin's head.
"Birds!" Riki-Ki-Ki-Ku-E commented contemptuously, watching the "munition" fly. The substance dropped by the organism-flock spread like a white blotch on the black surface of the solar battery, causing a stream of curses from two Asari technicians who had been scraping bird droppings for several hours.
"If only I had a rifle..." one of the maidens said dreamily, following the flying enemy with her gaze.
"Then the matriarch would thank you!" the other teased her. "I don't know what she finds in these birds from Earth. All they know is to eat and shit!"
"The rich have their quirks!" was the reply.
The spatula took the fresh munition and threw it into a jar with its older brethren, thus initiating a biological reaction, invisible to the technicians for now.
The mass instantly became liquid, and then, drawn by surface tension, it curled into a ball, forming a cocoon. From the dissolved cells, a special biopolymer collected the operative. In an instant, the whitish shell of the sphere dried, cracked, and fell apart, revealing… a hamster.
The saboteur, caught on its knees, propped its paw on the bottom of the container, raised its snout, and looked at the world with red, glowing eyes. A ripple ran through its body, cast from liquid metal, as specialized morph cells, obeying the program, gave the mass a basic form, imitating fur.
"Tu-dum, dum-dum-tu-dum!" – the Asari technician pried off a particularly stubborn clump of bird droppings from the panel, sending it into a jar, and only now noticed the cute creature. The fluffy animal looked at her with bead-like eyes, full of silent condemnation, while the droppings slowly slid off its head, crowned with cute little ears.
"Oh!" the technician said, slightly surprised. "And how did you get here?"
Instinctively, she leaned closer to get a better look at the creature, which became a fatal mistake for her. The last thing the native of Thessia saw in her life was a piece of sharpened steel, six times larger than the beast, that burst from its maw! Specialized cells, whose membrane consisted of high-strength polymer composites, assembled into a blade, pierced the victim's skull bones, brain, and occiput.
In a halo of blood and bone fragments, the saboteur retracted its appendage. Already in the air, it saw how the fallen woman's partner had managed to react, thanks to her military past. Although the Asari was already forming a biotic grip on her hand, the surprise and lack of practice made her too slow.
The beast's maw was illuminated by a faint blue flash. From a compressed space, a pistol barrel momentarily appeared, immediately spitting out a bullet. The shot was quiet, but no less effective for it. The Asari's chest was literally torn apart. The technician's gear, which provided excellent protection against electric shocks and acids, could not stop the reactive bolt.
Pushing off the already dead body, the beast, performing several somersaults in the air, landed on its knee. A moment later, two bodies fell to the ground, and the security system detected the presence of a polymer object on the island, raising an alarm.
"Suppress the firing points!" – the little ensign gave a mental order, directing a flying cover group at the target. After receiving a confirming mental symbol, he began to act himself.
Spreading his paws wide, he emitted a low-frequency squeak that coincided with the first explosions. Hundreds and thousands of hamsters burst from the bushes and burrows, transforming into metallic blobs on the run, merging with the officer. In an instant, a mass as shiny as mercury reached a height of two meters, transforming into a giant hamster.
Clicking its diamond teeth, it opened its maw, which shone with an unbearably bright blue light, spewing a company of cybernetic troops' robots from its spatial backpack.
Above its head, a flock of crows, breaking into flights, made a second pass at the uneliminated targets. The bush closest to the saboteur was diligently dug out of the ground, as were a hundred others on this tropical island, casually extracting a modernized Kalashnikov assault rifle from compressed space…
Having fully enjoyed the scene of complete destruction and violence, Riki-Ki-Ki-Ku-E began to compile a report, as befits a cog in the bureaucratic machine. The sentient dolphin had thoroughly enjoyed the suffering of others.