Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

Part 1: Under the Shadow of the Soveren

Chapter 1: Hello, new incarnation!

The woman standing at the viewing screen suddenly screamed thinly and sank to the floor, writhing in short convulsions. His eyes rolled back in his head, his hands scrabbled on the metal floor, and only wheezing and squawking came out of his throat. People in dark military uniforms ran in, and the woman was taken to the infirmary. But the checks showed nothing: the captain, who was having a seizure, was completely healthy! But the brain activity was off the charts...

The seizure ended as suddenly as it had begun. The female body suddenly went limp, the indicators calmed down and did not differ in any way from the standard data of a soundly sleeping person. The tall man asked softly:

"Doctor, what's wrong with her?"

"I'm sorry, Captain... I don't know." the doctor spread her hands in confusion.

"How is she?"

"The indicators are stable. Captain Shepard is just sleeping."

"Let me know when she wakes up."

"Yes, sir."

The man abruptly turned around and left the infirmary. The doctor sighed heavily and returned to work, carefully examining the readings taken during the captain's strange attack.

* * *

The agony of death still dominated my senses, shaking my body with spasms and convulsions, but gradually the phantom pains subsided, allowing me to take control of my new body. There were sensations, I felt smells when I inhaled, a metallic taste on my tongue, stiffness of the couch, tingling on my fingertips. Synchronization has ended. My soul settled into a new place, the connections were restored, the aura began to slowly unfold, recreating layer by layer, and I launched a diagnostic of the body. I need to know who I've been thrown into this time.

I was pleased with the result: the body is feminine, healthy, human, at the peak of its development. An ideal option for rebuilding. Gradually, as my aura unfolds and I assimilate with my soul, my body will change, acquiring the properties that I have managed to consolidate. Regeneration is activated first. Then there's mentalism, as soon as the eighth layer is restored. And, as an ideal, my Gift and the transformations it grants. As soon as the inner layers settle down, the memory of the recipient whose body I have occupied will begin to be absorbed.

Was I sorry for the woman whose existence I had so abruptly ended? Not for a moment! Her soul went into rebirth without damage and with a decent supply of energy, so the next birth will be extremely successful and happy — this is my compensation, a kind of payment for the interrupted rebirth. And experience tells me that this woman's life would be... Stormy. Very violent and bloody. It doesn't throw me into other destinies...

The second layer unfolded. The racing thoughts calmed down. My mind cleared, my psyche stabilized, and my mind cleared. The third layer will take several hours to open and give me power over my body. The fourth will unfold by the end of the day, and with the activation of the fifth, I will begin to absorb information from the host's brain. Means... sleep. A short mental command, and my mind obediently went out, plunging me into sleep.

Consciousness turned on with a jerk. At the edge of perception, a sense of life unfolded, the beating of some powerful energy, a conversation carried by the ear, but the mind was in no hurry to comprehend someone else's speech. Her MEMORY unfolded in front of me. The memory of a woman named Irene Shepard.

Looking through the stingy, partially incomplete memories, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the realization of WHAT embodied reality me was thrown into! And even at the moment of the beginning of Branching. Or, in other words, a couple of days before the start of the canon.

I couldn't help but giggle. I never thought that one day I would be reborn in the embodied reality of the Mass Effect! I usually get thrown into worlds... not so developed, although sometimes much more perverted. Oh well, at least a touching childhood dream will come true.: I'm going to space! I will see alien races, visit other planets... The beginning euphoria was interrupted by the rustle of opening doors and the barely audible click of heels. Well, Irene, it's time to wake up and explore a new world. Fortunately, the upcoming meeting with the Protean lighthouse will allow me to write off all my oddities and extensive memory lapses to him.

Blinking in the bright light, I opened my eyes. A soft cry, the rustle of clothes. I carefully propped myself up on my elbows, peering at the ash-haired woman who jumped up to me. Whatever her name is... Karin Chakvas, trauma surgeon, staff physician at Normandy.

"Captain Shepard!" Karin's voice turned out to be very pleasant, but full of sincere concern.

"Doctor? What happened? Why am I in the infirmary?"

"Is unknown." The doctor stared intently into my face with intelligent gray eyes. You suddenly have cramps. There were no injuries, no abnormalities, but the body was in agony. After seven minutes, the cramps stopped, and you fell asleep for a day.

"That's how..." I nodded slowly. The agony of death, as always, ricocheted through the body. Things happen. "Strangely, I feel quite well. Where are we?"

The doctor understood my question quite correctly:

"We just jumped over the repeater to Eden Prime."

That's it! The Beginning Of Branching. Eden Prime. The first distortion is always difficult. Reality does not want to deviate from the "canon", from the matrix according to which it was embodied. I can only do one global Distortion. But what is it? Need to think.

I stood up, interrupting the doctor's objections with a gesture, and silently left the infirmary. I need to find my immediate superiors and let them know that I am alive, healthy and ready to work. However, I didn't have to decide for a long time, as the intercom informed me that they were waiting for me in the briefing room.

Then I'll crawl around the ship, poke my curious nose, but for now... Eden Prime is waiting for me!

A tall Turian man was waiting for me in the briefing room. THE SPECTR OF Naylus Kraik. Stopping at the entrance to the gym, I leaned against the wall, staring intently at the man standing with his back to me, turning the crease inside out. The recipient's memory unleashed on me a wave of negativity and suspicion towards the SPECTR, which suddenly found itself on board with some kind of incomprehensible task. In principle, I can understand Irene: Nilus behaved with a degree of arrogance and coldness, cutting off any possibility of contact, and the hot-tempered Shepard, following the slight xenophobia and opinions of the crew, openly disliked the powerful Turian, although she observed strict neutrality. What do I know about this guy? Naylus Kraik, a student of Saren Arterius. Tough, ruthless, however, he does not reach the mentor either in cruelty or in this very ruthlessness, he treats people with cautious benevolence. He's a loner by nature, a great fighter. He nominated Irene as a candidate for Spectr. He'll die on Eden Prime, shot in the back of the head by Saren.

Or he won't die.

I have one global distortion of reality. Two intelligent people from my environment who can somehow influence the further development of this reality will die on this planet: Jenkins and Nilus. The first one gets a bullet from a Geth drone, the second one gets the same thing from a mentor. Only one person can survive. It's easy to save Jenkins. Naylus is almost impossible, but their influence on events directly depends on the static nature of fate. Well... I have some time to come to a final decision.

I detached myself from the wall and sauntered over to the Turian, greeting him with a nod of my head. It's time to start preparing this reality for Change!

"Captain Shepard," the Turian's voice was surprisingly low and deep, with a slight metallic tinge and a barely audible rumble, as if a huge cat were speaking. "We'll have a chance to talk."

I tilted my head to the side, peering with interest at the man slowly pacing in front of me. The Turian is a tall, powerfully built humanoid. Her figure is powerful, but surprisingly slender. A similar illusion was created by a thin waist and long legs, and the peculiarity of a cat's step: without full support on the foot. The appearance did not cause hostility. A beautiful race. Predatory. Dangerous. The light grace of a wild beast, the smooth, honed movements of a fighter, economical gestures, the gaze of bright green eyes, looking somewhat wary. A face with a hard chitinous integument, but moderately expressive, however, facial expressions can be determined solely by the eyes of mobile mandibles. The harmony of the face falls under the definition of "beautiful" and therefore the Turian does not fall into the category of "freak".

"We can talk. — I easily agree, smiling a little.

There is wariness and distrust in the green eyes. Yes, Naylus is far from being stupid, the crew's attitude to himself was perfectly understood and felt. You can even sympathize. The negativity was felt even by my neutered empathic sense.

"Don't mind?" The mandible twitched slightly.

Reality wavered. A minor digression. The beginning of the stratification of the chain of events. The first sign of a Change in the rejection of the Branch of reflected reality from the main tree of embodied reality. Continue... The history of embodied reality does not like digressions... she will try to return events to the programmed course. Let's see what I can change.

"No. Talking to an intelligent interlocutor is a pleasure that has been so rare lately. Especially if the topic does not affect the service."

The SPECTR understood my irony. He bowed his head slightly.

"You weren't so friendly the last time we talked, Captain."

I shrugged my shoulders.

"The status obliges. Who better to know this than you?"

The man nodded.

The conversation turned aside. Nilus on Eden Prime... He didn't even mention it. That's wonderful. To listen to pretentious nonsense, which the SPECTRUM itself does not believe in...why?

"What brings you aboard the Normandy, SPECTRE?" I smiled at the way the Turian flinched. "Don't tell me stories about testing a stealth system."

"You've already figured it out." not a question, but a simple statement of fact.

"I hope I'm not stupid."

"Don't take my words as an insult." The Turian waved a three-fingered hand in alarm.

His attempt at justification is to apologize so much... It's touching and funny, which only causes a smile and a slight touch of emotion. It's funny when such a powerful being apologizes for such a small thing.

"I won't count it. And yet, Naylus, what brings you to the Normandy?"

Anderson, who entered the round room, saved the Turian from having to get out. With the man's first words, the story returned to its original tracks. I listened to Anderson with half an ear, carefully watching the Turian standing next to me, forming his image. My eyes involuntarily clung to the little things that were so insignificant at first glance: small reflex gestures, the way he moved, the timbre of his voice, the fleur of his emotions that I vaguely felt, the expression of his surprisingly green eyes. Anderson started talking about the mission on Eden Prime. Nielus immediately tensed up. His mandibles were pressed tightly against his cheeks, and his eyes were alert. Waiting for my reaction?

And what do you want to take off the planet? I asked with a slight irony in my voice, looking into Nilus green eyes a little maliciously.

The captain answered me:

"During the excavations at Eden Prime, scientists found some kind of lighthouse. Most likely, it's a prothean."

I chuckled.

"How can you be sure that this is a lighthouse and not something else?"

The captain had no answer to this question, and he hesitated, not knowing what to say. The Turian's green eyes were filled with bewilderment and confusion. I was frankly falling out of the image that he had managed to create during his time on board the ship.

"Let's say it's a lighthouse, and let's say it's a Prothean." I looked at the confused Turian with interest. "I understand your desire to bring the device out of Eden Prime. As far as I know, there is no way to study such devices on this planet. Am I right in my assumptions?"

Anderson and Naylus nodded in unison.

"Correct me if I'm wrong about anything." the SPECTR flinched from my kind smile, but did not look away. "An artifact has been found on the planet, presumably a Prothean beacon, with great potential value for all races living in Council space. Since there is no way to examine the device or ensure its safety on Eden Prime, it was decided to take it out. The Citadel, I suppose."

Naylus nodded. Anderson blinked and said nothing.

"I will not touch on the political side of this decision. It is multifaceted, although it can be described in one word." Seeing the interest in the green eyes, she pressed: "Rollback. Advice from people."

Naylus was embarrassed and looked away. Of course, he understands the background of what is happening. Captain Anderson chuckled.

"Although it is roughly said, but in fact it is true."

"I can believe that transporting a lighthouse is reason enough for one of most respected and well-known the Council's Spectrs to spend so much personal time."

Only a deaf person would not have heard the irony in my voice. Naylus chuckled, spreading his mandibles in a slight grin.

"You're perceptive, Captain Shepard."

"As I said before, I dare say I'm not stupid." My grin only made the Turian smile wider, revealing a palisade of sharp, wedge-shaped teeth. "So what is the REAL reason for your attention, SPECTR?"

"I want to see you in action, Shepard," the man replied, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"Is curiosity idle or has a practical interest?" I asked, stopping Anderson from making a pretentious speech about the Alliance. Naylus noticed my maneuver and grinned.

"Quite practical."

"That's how?"

"I have put forward your candidacy for the place of Spectr." the man kindly explained to me, cunningly flashing his predatory green eyes.

I chuckled, casting an ironic glance at the captain.

"I don't even know... should I be pleased with the honor or outraged that I was confronted with the fact?" The Turian understood me quite correctly, his green eyes glittering with hidden amusement. He enjoyed our sparring. "I think I'll choose the third one, and I'll say that I'll be happy to work with you, Naylus, regardless of the decision you make."

Our sweet conversation, which was giving us both some fanatical pleasure, was interrupted by the excited voice of the pilot announcing the reception of the signal. The story is back on track. I calmly watched a short video that was transmitted to us by fighters from the surface of the planet. Nothing unexpected: a shootout with the Geth, the death of fighters, the Soveren in the sky. Expected. Anderson stared intently at the screen. Naylus was squinting at me, more interested in my reaction than in the image on the screen. The green eyes only flickered once at the screen when the Reaper appeared on it. And they returned almost instantly. Meeting my gaze, the Turian slightly tilted his head at the screen. I raised an eyebrow. In response, a questioning urk. Like a cat, what a word! My serene smile colored his gaze with concern.