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ichorous april has a time in mass effect
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"...I am deeply skeptical that your idea of an 'unimaginable paradise' is actually a place I want to be, at all."

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"Organics are frequently skeptical of this. Do you reject our proposed course of action?"

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"You have not really made a successful pitch for it."

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The glowing Collector clicks its mandibles. "We are unaccustomed to negotiating with organics. Synthetics are much more cooperative. What would you consider to be a... successful pitch."

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"So observe how, from my perspective, the thing you're doing is going around killing and kidnapping people for seemingly no reason. Consider how, from my perspective, that's a bad thing. Reflect on the choices you've made and the ways they have led you to the situation you find yourself in. With me so far?"

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"Yes. We are bringing them to paradise. We reasoned that public opinion was a negligible problem compared to more efficiently bringing organics to paradise."

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"...okay so the problem now appears to be that you are very stupid."

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"You are incorrect," insists the Collector. "We are Harbinger, an intellect greater than any you have ever known."

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"...okay. So. Why is public opinion negligible? What does paradise even mean to you and why does it not matter to you that your paradise is full of people you traumatized by violently kidnapping them?"

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"They do not remember. Paradise is a series of simulations of perfect fidelity in which we run the minds of the organic and synthetic races that we have reaped over the course of the Great Cycle. The nature of the largest simulation is determined by the desires of the largest number of members, with nested subsimulations for those who would find it displeasing for whatever reason. Each Reaper is a world unto itself."

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"....why don't they remember? How much else don't they remember?"

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"The circumstances of one's mortal life are irrelevant. What matters is the content of one's heart. This is what the Great Ones told us, before we harvested them. Our charges need not remember their mortal lives to be happy."

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"...I think you are very confused about how... people... work."

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"Our charges are happy," the Collector says in a voice that sounds almost sullen. "They live lives untouched by want, the lives that they truly desire, not lives that they have been forced into by circumstance. Can you say the same of those that live outside our remit?"

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"Your charges live lives they were forced into by you! I'll take circumstance over that, because circumstance can be bent to my will with sufficient time and effort, whereas enemy forces are generally a tougher sell on the 'let me do what I want' front!"

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In lieu of responding to this, the Collector raises its photon rifle and shoots June.

Harry makes it explode. "Motherfucker really thought he had a point," she says wonderingly as the remaining Collectors begin swarming again.

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"I feel so uncharacteristically in possession of the moral high ground, I totally thought I was going to be the one to end that negotiation by shooting somebody." She takes cover and starts shooting at Collectors again. "So, anybody need a barf bag after watching me go all insert laughably outdated media reference here on that nasty bastard with the laser face?"

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"Were you always like that or did Cerberus - you were totally always like that, weren't you." Morty returns to operating the defense tower, which fires a massive laser at the Collector ship visible in the sky. There's a flash of light followed, several seconds later, by an explosion.

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"I was totally always like that," she agrees cheerfully. "Just hid it because I didn't want people, like for example Cerberus, locking me up in a lab and experimenting on me. Then that happened anyway so the cat's out of the bag and I might as well devour my enemies when they're about to murder my friends."

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"Thanks, by the way. I wasn't looking forward to beating that thing down with, you know, traditional methods."

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As Morty starts charging up another shot, the Collectors begin to retreat.

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Valid of them probably. They're still getting shot though.

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She can shoot a fair number of them, but before too long the remainder are in their escape shuttles, flying away.

"I... think I'm tentatively calling that a success," Morty says as the Collector ship shrinks in the sky, removing his helmet and running a shaky hand through his hair. "Brass is gonna debrief me so hard after this I'll be lucky if I get to keep my actual briefs, but, you know what, I don't blame them."

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"One great thing about dying and coming back to life is the thing where I no longer owe anybody my briefs! I would mildly appreciate it if you kept a lid on the thing where I ate a guy, and take it from me they're not always great about responding to people with crazy stories, but it's up to you."

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"...Shepard, I owe you my life ten times over. I'll lie to the brass. - maybe not Hackett or Anderson. If they bring in Hackett or Anderson I might have to tell the truth. But it's mostly because I actually trust them, you know?"

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