50,000 years ago, the Protheans & Reapers annihilated each other. Now, in 323 Post Disaster, a group of alien explorers cross paths with Tekkadan at Saisei. Now Tekkadan and Teiwaz are playing a high stakes game, with the fate of humanity in the balance. AU for Mass Effect, AU for IBO after Episode 9.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to EA and Bioware. Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai and Sunrise.
Out in the darkness of space, near Jupiter, lay Saisei.
Saisei was a technically a massive spaceship, but functionally, it was space colony, complete with agricultural and industrial sectors to give it self-sufficiency. It only had the population of a small city, but it held power beyond comparison.
For 300 years after a war that permanently disfigured the Moon, Saisei was home to a powerful organization known as Teiwaz. Everything from heavy industry, manufacturing, construction, wholesale and retail trade, financing, medical care, education, and agriculture to private military work and transportation could be handled by one of its many affiliates. Teiwaz’s power was such that Gjallarhorn, a military aristocracy feared by the economic blocs of Earth, dared not interfere with their dealings.
McMurdo Barriston, the current leader of Teiwaz, sat in his office, thinking of Mars.
Not long ago, a group of child soldiers from a group called Tekkadan had come to him for help. Their goal was to get Kudelia Aina Bernstein, the figurehead of Mars growing independence movement, to Earth, so she could speak out in favor of deregulating Martian half-metals. Teiwaz was very interested in obtaining the rights to those valuable resources, so Barriston allowed Tekkadan to join Teiwaz through a Sakazaki Blood Oath with the head of his transportation department, Naze Turbine.
Teiwaz was also an organization descended from the Mafia and Yakuza of Earth, and such rituals reflected its heritage.
In a few days, Tekkadan was going to head to Earth via one of its secret routes by Naze’s Turbines, his harem-slash-crew. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but Tekkadan’s Gundam, one of the surviving 72 legendary mobile suits that fought in the Calamity War centuries ago, was undergoing massive repairs in one of Saisei’s hangers. Gundam Barbatos had suffered centuries of neglect, mostly serving as a power plant for Tekkadan’s predecessor, Chryse Guard Security, until recently, when it was pressed into service.
Barriston had been impressed by Tekkadan’s gumption, especially that of its leader, Orga Itsuka, and Barbatos’ pilot, Mikazuki Augus, and decided to let his best men repair the Gundam and hopefully restore it to its former glory. Of course, given the long odds on the successful completion of their mission, Tekkadan needed all the help they could get.
All these ruminations came to an end when one of his assistants came into the room, holding a computer tablet. “Excuse me, sir, but there’s a… situation that needs your attention.”
Barriston smiled, amused by the man’s obvious anxiety. “And what would that be?”
“There’s a ship approaching Jupiter…” The man wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “From outside the solar system.”
The boss of Teiwaz couldn’t breathe for a moment. His brain struggled to process what his assistant said. The implications were simply too massive. Because if this was true… history would be made here, on Saisei. First contact with aliens would occur on his watch.
“Have you… confirmed this information?”
“We… we had four science teams look at the data,” the man confirmed. Due to Saisei’s remote location, there were dozens of science teams aboard, researching this or that. Most of them received a healthy amount of funding from Teiwaz, in exchange for any potentially useful information. And all of them knew how to keep their mouths shut when Teiwaz didn’t want information to spread. “They all independently came to the same conclusion. This is likely to be an alien ship.”
Aliens. Humanity had wondered if it was alone in the universe for centuries, and now the answer was being dropped in his lap. And he would do everything in his power to make sure this didn’t end in disaster… or at least wouldn’t doom humanity if he failed.
“Well now,” Barriston said, maintaining his poker face, “did our scientist friends have any advice on handling this situation?”
“They did mention an old set of contingencies for alien contact,” the assistant admitted, stepping forward to hand the tablet to Barriston. “They’re ready to go, once they have your approval, of course.”
Barriston skimmed the information on the tablets, nodding as he went. “Have the scientists send the message, and have them inform me the minute they reply. Oh, and get me Naze Turbine and Orga Itsuka. Tell them… I have an urgent job for them to handle.”
The head of Teiwaz leaned back in his chair as his assistant hurried out of the room. If all went well, this would be simple, clean business. If not… well, he would see what Tekkadan was made out of, and hopefully have enough alien technology to profit from.
The AIV Thrill Seeker sat in the darkness, just above the plane of the ecliptic of a solar system that no one from Citadel had ever seen. The bird-like, 200 meter long destroyer used to belong to the Turian Hierarchy, until it was decommissioned and sold as surplus. Now it was a freelance explorer, looking for habitable planets and valuable wreckage from the Prothean-Reaper war.
For a year and a half, 150 Asari, Salarians, and Batarians had traveled thousands of light years, starting from the Annos Basin cluster, and now they were here, ready to change course and head to the Aethon Cluster. They were tired, bored, and more than willing to leave the system after a cursory glance. But then they picked up the radio transmissions, and knew they couldn't turn back just yet.
Captain Milena Dantius tapped her foot as she stood on the galaxy map platform. She hated Turian bridge design and its habit of placing the captain above the action, but she’d learned to live with it. This had been the best ship for her money, after all. But if she’d had the money, she would’ve rebuilt the entire bridge so she could sit in a chair when things took forever.
Of course, when you were waiting on something that could be very profitable, sore feet were a minor inconvenience.
Comm Specialist Javok Wiks, one of the few Salarians on the bridge, spoke up. “Ma’am, we’re receiving what appears to be a first contact package! The origin seems to be near the innermost gas giant.”
Dantius smiled. “Interesting. I want all our sensors, passive and active, aimed on that spot. And get that translated as fast as possible!”
It took 20 minutes, but she got results on both counts.
“We’ve got a preliminary translation, Captain,” Wiks reported. “Transferring to your console now.”
“I’ve got a read on the transmission source,” some random Asari maiden said. Dantius didn’t care what her name was – it would come to her in time, but even if it didn’t, no one cared all that much about maidens outside of the bedroom. “Also transferring to your console, ma’am.”
Two holographic screens materialized in front of Dantius. One showed a rough translation of the message – typical stuff, mostly saying that this species called “humans” were greeting them in peace. The other showed a space habitat that was a few kilometers long – not Citadel big, but a respectable size. These people might not have FTL capabilities, but they could certainly build megastructures.
Things might get even more profitable, Dantius thought.
“Send them our first contact message,” she ordered, “then get me the ship’s intercom.”
Down in the bowels of the ship, a Salarian and Batarian were sitting in the mess hall when Captain Dantius’ voice interrupted their meal. This was no real tragedy, for the food was bland and barely worth eating. In fact, the bigger irritation was that everyone stopped right where they were, so the Batarian couldn’t get a refill of his drink.
“Crew of the Thrill Seeker, we have just made contact with a previously undiscovered species,” the captain announced. “We’re currently sorting out translation issues, but we hope to get permission to visit one of their space habitats soon.”
The Salarian and Batarian shared a look, but said nothing as the rising tide of excited murmuring swept through the mess hall.
“Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a few weeks of shore leave and maybe some good souvenirs before we have to head back to Citadel space,” Dantius continued. “I know this trip has been tedious and dull, with few opportunities to stretch our legs, but we’ve gotten ourselves a place in the history books. Work hard a few more days, and I’ll make sure you get the rest you deserve.”
The duo picked up their trays, dropped the food in the garbage receptacle, put the trays in their slot, and walked out. They eventually wound their way through the ship’s tight corridors and stepped inside the life support control room. As soon as the door closed, the Batarian turned on his heel.
“Damn it all! Why couldn’t we have found a nice, uninhabited system?”
The Salarian looked unimpressed by the outburst. “There’s no need to panic. We have a plan, after all.”
“Yeah, for all the good that does us,” the Batarian replied. “I’m not sure everyone else is going to be thrilled about getting stranded in a backwater like this.”
“We’ve been over this,” the Salarian muttered, calling up a document on his omni-tool. “Better to be stranded here and presumed lost by the rest of the galaxy than allow Dantius to get her way.”
“You think I don’t know that?!” The Batarian pressed his face into his hands for a few seconds, then looked at the Salarian again. “I’ve seen what would happen to these people if Dantius sells them out – hell, I fought against it for decades! I’d still be fighting if… if I could take it anymore.”
The Salarian at least had the grace to look chagrined. “Sometimes I forget how strong those memories are for you. But this plan cannot work without you. We both know that. And remember, the crew resents Dantius and her clique of matrons more than you would think. They'll fall into line once we show them our evidence.”
The Batarian sighed and nodded. “I guess you want me to take the Quantum Entanglement Communicator offline right away?”
“Yes,” the Salarian confirmed. “But more importantly, I need to get access to the translation matrix for these aliens’ language. Then I can get a message to them when I get aboard their habitat.”
“When? You’re awfully confident you’ll get aboard soon enough to make a difference.”
The Salarian smirked. “She knows I’m ex-STG. Of course she’ll take me along, along with the science officer. The two of us working together should be able to identify and neutralize any potentially hazardous microorganisms that could endanger either side.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” The Batarian rubbed his chin. “I just hope they believe your message.”
“They won’t have any choice,” the Salarian said, turning towards the door. “Not if they want to ensure their species’ survival.”
“You’re a cold one, Doc,” the Batarian called out as his companion walked out the door. When the door closed, he muttered, “I just hope this won’t wind up getting us all killed.”
Author's Note: This starts between episodes 9 and 10 of IBO Season 1, and is about 200 years after the canon events in Mass Effect would've happened (but obviously didn't). So the doctor is not some weird alternate Mordin, but you never know, it could be his great-great-great (x whatever) grandson or something.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to EA and Bioware. Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans belongs to Bandai and Sunrise.
Chapter 1
Saisei was a technically a massive spaceship, but functionally, it was space colony, complete with agricultural and industrial sectors to give it self-sufficiency. It only had the population of a small city, but it held power beyond comparison.
For 300 years after a war that permanently disfigured the Moon, Saisei was home to a powerful organization known as Teiwaz. Everything from heavy industry, manufacturing, construction, wholesale and retail trade, financing, medical care, education, and agriculture to private military work and transportation could be handled by one of its many affiliates. Teiwaz’s power was such that Gjallarhorn, a military aristocracy feared by the economic blocs of Earth, dared not interfere with their dealings.
McMurdo Barriston, the current leader of Teiwaz, sat in his office, thinking of Mars.
Not long ago, a group of child soldiers from a group called Tekkadan had come to him for help. Their goal was to get Kudelia Aina Bernstein, the figurehead of Mars growing independence movement, to Earth, so she could speak out in favor of deregulating Martian half-metals. Teiwaz was very interested in obtaining the rights to those valuable resources, so Barriston allowed Tekkadan to join Teiwaz through a Sakazaki Blood Oath with the head of his transportation department, Naze Turbine.
Teiwaz was also an organization descended from the Mafia and Yakuza of Earth, and such rituals reflected its heritage.
In a few days, Tekkadan was going to head to Earth via one of its secret routes by Naze’s Turbines, his harem-slash-crew. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but Tekkadan’s Gundam, one of the surviving 72 legendary mobile suits that fought in the Calamity War centuries ago, was undergoing massive repairs in one of Saisei’s hangers. Gundam Barbatos had suffered centuries of neglect, mostly serving as a power plant for Tekkadan’s predecessor, Chryse Guard Security, until recently, when it was pressed into service.
Barriston had been impressed by Tekkadan’s gumption, especially that of its leader, Orga Itsuka, and Barbatos’ pilot, Mikazuki Augus, and decided to let his best men repair the Gundam and hopefully restore it to its former glory. Of course, given the long odds on the successful completion of their mission, Tekkadan needed all the help they could get.
All these ruminations came to an end when one of his assistants came into the room, holding a computer tablet. “Excuse me, sir, but there’s a… situation that needs your attention.”
Barriston smiled, amused by the man’s obvious anxiety. “And what would that be?”
“There’s a ship approaching Jupiter…” The man wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “From outside the solar system.”
The boss of Teiwaz couldn’t breathe for a moment. His brain struggled to process what his assistant said. The implications were simply too massive. Because if this was true… history would be made here, on Saisei. First contact with aliens would occur on his watch.
“Have you… confirmed this information?”
“We… we had four science teams look at the data,” the man confirmed. Due to Saisei’s remote location, there were dozens of science teams aboard, researching this or that. Most of them received a healthy amount of funding from Teiwaz, in exchange for any potentially useful information. And all of them knew how to keep their mouths shut when Teiwaz didn’t want information to spread. “They all independently came to the same conclusion. This is likely to be an alien ship.”
Aliens. Humanity had wondered if it was alone in the universe for centuries, and now the answer was being dropped in his lap. And he would do everything in his power to make sure this didn’t end in disaster… or at least wouldn’t doom humanity if he failed.
“Well now,” Barriston said, maintaining his poker face, “did our scientist friends have any advice on handling this situation?”
“They did mention an old set of contingencies for alien contact,” the assistant admitted, stepping forward to hand the tablet to Barriston. “They’re ready to go, once they have your approval, of course.”
Barriston skimmed the information on the tablets, nodding as he went. “Have the scientists send the message, and have them inform me the minute they reply. Oh, and get me Naze Turbine and Orga Itsuka. Tell them… I have an urgent job for them to handle.”
The head of Teiwaz leaned back in his chair as his assistant hurried out of the room. If all went well, this would be simple, clean business. If not… well, he would see what Tekkadan was made out of, and hopefully have enough alien technology to profit from.
The AIV Thrill Seeker sat in the darkness, just above the plane of the ecliptic of a solar system that no one from Citadel had ever seen. The bird-like, 200 meter long destroyer used to belong to the Turian Hierarchy, until it was decommissioned and sold as surplus. Now it was a freelance explorer, looking for habitable planets and valuable wreckage from the Prothean-Reaper war.
For a year and a half, 150 Asari, Salarians, and Batarians had traveled thousands of light years, starting from the Annos Basin cluster, and now they were here, ready to change course and head to the Aethon Cluster. They were tired, bored, and more than willing to leave the system after a cursory glance. But then they picked up the radio transmissions, and knew they couldn't turn back just yet.
Captain Milena Dantius tapped her foot as she stood on the galaxy map platform. She hated Turian bridge design and its habit of placing the captain above the action, but she’d learned to live with it. This had been the best ship for her money, after all. But if she’d had the money, she would’ve rebuilt the entire bridge so she could sit in a chair when things took forever.
Of course, when you were waiting on something that could be very profitable, sore feet were a minor inconvenience.
Comm Specialist Javok Wiks, one of the few Salarians on the bridge, spoke up. “Ma’am, we’re receiving what appears to be a first contact package! The origin seems to be near the innermost gas giant.”
Dantius smiled. “Interesting. I want all our sensors, passive and active, aimed on that spot. And get that translated as fast as possible!”
It took 20 minutes, but she got results on both counts.
“We’ve got a preliminary translation, Captain,” Wiks reported. “Transferring to your console now.”
“I’ve got a read on the transmission source,” some random Asari maiden said. Dantius didn’t care what her name was – it would come to her in time, but even if it didn’t, no one cared all that much about maidens outside of the bedroom. “Also transferring to your console, ma’am.”
Two holographic screens materialized in front of Dantius. One showed a rough translation of the message – typical stuff, mostly saying that this species called “humans” were greeting them in peace. The other showed a space habitat that was a few kilometers long – not Citadel big, but a respectable size. These people might not have FTL capabilities, but they could certainly build megastructures.
Things might get even more profitable, Dantius thought.
“Send them our first contact message,” she ordered, “then get me the ship’s intercom.”
Down in the bowels of the ship, a Salarian and Batarian were sitting in the mess hall when Captain Dantius’ voice interrupted their meal. This was no real tragedy, for the food was bland and barely worth eating. In fact, the bigger irritation was that everyone stopped right where they were, so the Batarian couldn’t get a refill of his drink.
“Crew of the Thrill Seeker, we have just made contact with a previously undiscovered species,” the captain announced. “We’re currently sorting out translation issues, but we hope to get permission to visit one of their space habitats soon.”
The Salarian and Batarian shared a look, but said nothing as the rising tide of excited murmuring swept through the mess hall.
“Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a few weeks of shore leave and maybe some good souvenirs before we have to head back to Citadel space,” Dantius continued. “I know this trip has been tedious and dull, with few opportunities to stretch our legs, but we’ve gotten ourselves a place in the history books. Work hard a few more days, and I’ll make sure you get the rest you deserve.”
The duo picked up their trays, dropped the food in the garbage receptacle, put the trays in their slot, and walked out. They eventually wound their way through the ship’s tight corridors and stepped inside the life support control room. As soon as the door closed, the Batarian turned on his heel.
“Damn it all! Why couldn’t we have found a nice, uninhabited system?”
The Salarian looked unimpressed by the outburst. “There’s no need to panic. We have a plan, after all.”
“Yeah, for all the good that does us,” the Batarian replied. “I’m not sure everyone else is going to be thrilled about getting stranded in a backwater like this.”
“We’ve been over this,” the Salarian muttered, calling up a document on his omni-tool. “Better to be stranded here and presumed lost by the rest of the galaxy than allow Dantius to get her way.”
“You think I don’t know that?!” The Batarian pressed his face into his hands for a few seconds, then looked at the Salarian again. “I’ve seen what would happen to these people if Dantius sells them out – hell, I fought against it for decades! I’d still be fighting if… if I could take it anymore.”
The Salarian at least had the grace to look chagrined. “Sometimes I forget how strong those memories are for you. But this plan cannot work without you. We both know that. And remember, the crew resents Dantius and her clique of matrons more than you would think. They'll fall into line once we show them our evidence.”
The Batarian sighed and nodded. “I guess you want me to take the Quantum Entanglement Communicator offline right away?”
“Yes,” the Salarian confirmed. “But more importantly, I need to get access to the translation matrix for these aliens’ language. Then I can get a message to them when I get aboard their habitat.”
“When? You’re awfully confident you’ll get aboard soon enough to make a difference.”
The Salarian smirked. “She knows I’m ex-STG. Of course she’ll take me along, along with the science officer. The two of us working together should be able to identify and neutralize any potentially hazardous microorganisms that could endanger either side.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” The Batarian rubbed his chin. “I just hope they believe your message.”
“They won’t have any choice,” the Salarian said, turning towards the door. “Not if they want to ensure their species’ survival.”
“You’re a cold one, Doc,” the Batarian called out as his companion walked out the door. When the door closed, he muttered, “I just hope this won’t wind up getting us all killed.”
Author's Note: This starts between episodes 9 and 10 of IBO Season 1, and is about 200 years after the canon events in Mass Effect would've happened (but obviously didn't). So the doctor is not some weird alternate Mordin, but you never know, it could be his great-great-great (x whatever) grandson or something.