SfS-10

==Salvaging from StrifeChapter 10==
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===Conspircies and Mysteries===
Somewhere in the Terminus Systems
3080
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Inspector Jarvin stole a glance at his timer, but the numbers had barely changed since the last time he'd checked.
Meanwhile, the salarian pilot chattered unceasingly. He had forgotten the name, and couldn't be bothered to ask again. Jarvin had needed a flight to derelict Outpost S-179, and the space taxi happened to be available for a cheap price. Nobody else was willing to take the turian so far to the dead place within his budget, and he'd not realized how miserable the trip was going to be.
"I'm telling you, Feros is just the tip of the iceberg," the salarian raved, the autopilot the only thing keeping the taxi on course. "The humans have more secret projects, things that can change the balance of the galaxy. All Saren did was open the eyes of the Council, but my friends in the STG tell me they already know the humans are up to something. In fact, they're now found definite proof of the Dark Fortress Protocol on Feros." He paused expectantly.
"And that is?" Jarvin reluctantly asked. He'd learnt the hard way staying silent sent entirely the wrong message to the wide-eyed idiot.
"The ultimate fallback plan of the humans. They've got hidden bombs on every single mass relay. Well, important mass relay. When the order is given, they blow the bombs and destroy our entire relay network in one swoop. Then they use their hidden super-jumpships to conquer the Citadel. Their Star League has it all planned out, but some files made their way to STG."
"That's nonsense," Jarvin felt compelled to respond. "the humans won't destroy mass relays. What happened during first contact was a fluke, a mistake." He'd heard similar worries from some of his comrades during his service with the Turian military. One of the dumbest recruits claimed the humans would threaten to destroy the relay to their homeworld to gain concessions, and suggested the Citadel races needed to destroy the humans to prevent such a calamity.
"Look, you being here proves I'm right!" The salarian pilot explained. "You're here on some top secret mission from the Turian Hidden Primarch. The humans left a superweapon at S-179 you need to secure, and you hired me because you don't want to draw attention from the STG."
"For the last time," Jarvin tried again, "I'm an inspector of the Citadel Terminus Diplomatic Corps. I'm part of the bureaucracy that handles minor issues between the Citadel and the Terminus Systems. There's nothing glamorous or secret about my work."
The salarian nodded eagerly. "It's a good cover identity, 'Inspector Jarvin'. You get to travel everywhere, nobody pays attention to you and thinks you're just doing boring stuff. But you refuse to tell me about what you're doing here, and that tipped me off. Just admit it."
"My work is confidential as Citadel law requires," Jarvin utterly refused to indulge him. "The cases I handle should be kept private." The turian suspected if he told the salarian he was originally in system to handle paperwork for a child custody battle between a Citadel and non-Citadel asari, the fool would think that was code for something.
"Right, I know how these sort of things work," the salarian smiled and winked, "but you could just slip me a little tidbit, can't you? Nothing too sensitive of course, just something small. I can keep a secret."
For a brief, tantalizing moment, Jarvin was seized with the impulse to simply make up some nonsense to entertain the salarian, but he quashed it down.
Jarvin had done some basic research on the extranet in the starport. Outpost S-179, a small human colony on a barely habitable moon, which hadn't deserved more than a bureaucratic designation. It had been in existence for all of two years before an update from human authorities announced the colony a failure, and the residents either moved elsewhere, such as to the older colonies in system established by the other races, or were abandoned and left to their own devices. The causes were the usual – pirates, low economic viability, disillusion with the pioneer lifestyle. Whatever the final blow had been, the remains of the colony were supposed to have been empty, long cleared of anything useful by scavengers and slavers. One of countless failures out here in the Terminus Systems, and yet another reminder to the newcomers of the harsh dangers outside Citadel space.
His superiors had changed their minds after the Feros scandal had engulfed the humans. Outpost S-179 was no longer a footnote in the local history, it was now a potentially suspicious site according to some analyst who didn't have to travel all the way out here. And since Inspector Jarvin happened to be in the system, they decided he could be tasked with investigating the ruins before returning home.
Which was why he was now working overtime instead of being home with his girlfriend. In all likelihood, the few crumbling remains would have absolutely nothing interesting. He'd take some notes, make some recordings, and somebody Jarvin would never meet would go over them and come to some conclusion. 
Jarvin had been silent for too long. "I'll trade a secret, deal?" the salarian wheedled. "I have information on why asari don't like the human jumpships."
"They die, because the element zero in their bodies react poorly to the jumpdrive."
"No, no, no, that's what the Matriarch Cabal wants you to think. The truth is, if an asari travels through hyperspace, they turn into Protheans. Or no, I mean their disguise drops. Think about it. They can't let anyone know, so any asari trying to prove it is killed by an implanted bomb. Tell your handler to check the autopsies, he'll find the proof."
Inspector Jarvin stole a glance at his timer, and closed his eyes. Maybe there were some turian or quarian squatters hiding in the forgotten place to get a drink from.
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===Opposing Parties===
Somewhere on the Extranet
3080
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--Intercepted message to unknown recipient--
[This used to be such a nice asari colony with a nice name. Peaceful, tranquil, far enough away from the Terminus Systems to avoid raids or other unpleasant events. The colony quietly imported element zero, high-tech goods and optimistic travellers with hopes and dreams. In return, it exported art, refined metals and optimistic travellers with hopes and dreams. Like other worlds in asari space, a group of senior asari matriarchs acted as the leaders of the little democratic republic, keeping everybody satisfied and content. A smattering of other races lived there as well, but there were no issues with them either. All in all, a nice, quiet place nobody else in the galaxy cared about.]
[Then, of course, somebody changed the name. That wasn't usually a problem. Most residents were satisfied with the old name, and so the new name would be dismissed and forgotten, and whoever championed the cause would find something else to bother people with. The last change was five centuries ago, and so minor historians considered it merely linguistic drift. In this particular case, though, the renaming was advocated with the help of a crate of unmarked weapons and a rather abrupt termination of the governing matriarchs.]
[Now, this needs to be stressed, such things aren't typical for asari, but they can happen. Most asari mature rather sensibly, with a healthy appreciation for peace and cooperation. Of course, some learn rather the wrong lessons from life, but those are rare. Once in a while, however, a matron or matriarch with a sense of megalomania does try to break the status quo, perhaps even violently. The other asari usually rein them in, at worst with some help from one of the more important asari republics. In the end, the status quo is restored, some minor changes are made to prevent a repeat of the fiasco, and the local culture obtains a nice little piece of history they can milk endlessly for tourists.]
[In this case, though, things fell apart rather terribly. The rebelling matriarch, apparently rather frustrated with her lack of influence, had gathered a considerable number of followers to install herself as the absolute ruler of the colony. The leader of the local commandos, the asari militia unit, disagreed, and decided martial law with the military in charge was necessary to restore the peace. Unfortunately, a visiting radical ex-justicar disapproved of her methods and tried to solve things herself, her supporters rapidly adopting a new name to reflect their newfound loyalty. In the meantime, a rather large number of young asari maidens who had been reading some very improper literature decided it was a splendid time to start an uprising and show those wrinkled old crones how things should be done.]
[All of which is to say, depending on who one asks, the colony is now either Athame's Glory, the Sovereign Realm of the Grand Matriarch Lukrezia, the True Asari Republic or the Republic of Free Asari. All the orbital presence from nearby asari worlds avails to nothing when any intervention on the ground is treated as outside interference by the entrenched parties. The civilians are mostly left to their own devises for now, but needing to pay taxes twice or thrice a month isn't exactly sustainable.]
[Naturally, this state of affairs can't last forever. An asari coalition is apparently preparing to intervene to restore the old republic, or at least create a new one with their own matriarchs in charge. Since orbital strikes will leave nothing worth claiming, they have to land troops on the planet. The turians and salarians may be involved, but mercenaries most certainly aren't welcome. As it turns out, there are far too many of them groundside already, brought in alongside smuggled weaponry and military material.]
[Now, I'm not confirming or denying what I've been up to on this planet. You know my line of work, you can draw your own conclusions. But the Grand Matriarch is getting rather anxious about the incoming invasion, and she'd really prefer to be the undisputed ruler when the meddlesome neighbours arrive. After all, not much point to restoring peace if it's already been restored. So the Grand Matriarch is looking for tough, strong friends for her throne, to help her secure her most Sovereign Realm. She'd even express her gratefulness with Element Zero, if that's what you prefer.]
[Don't worry about transport, all those mercenaries and other equipment made it after all. Arrangements have been made for departure as well, if you don't feel like staying. And if you don't care for the Grand Matriarch, there happen to be two other options as well, just saying. Bring your pals with you to Ilium. A mutual acquaintance will be waiting at the MRB, you'll recognize them.] 
[Just remember to get the colony's name right when you arrive. The asari here really don't like it if you get that wrong.]
--Message Ends--
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===Interstellar News===
Somewhere Quiet
3080
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XXX
*Inglesmond: the Human Tuchanka? Archaeologists make startling discovery!
*Where is Benezia? Exclusive images of Saren's Lovechild!
*Shocking New Footage from the Battle of Galax! Human Dreadnought Deorbits Into City!
*Citadel Citizens Slain by Capellan Confederate: A Survivor's Story of Sarna!
OOO
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The krogan battlemaster skimmed through the sensationalist titles dismissively. Other than that one mention of his homeworld, nothing else caught his eye. He turned his attention back towards the sensible news articles from actual reporters.
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XXX
*; Message from Turian Convoy: Finally over Tharkad:Hierarchy continues evacuation of citizens from Human Sphere, Primarch says military prepared to use force if necessary.A long-awaited message has finally reached the Citadel from distant Tharkad, after a ten-hour journey through the human communications network. The evacuation convoy of the Turian Hierarchy has successfully arrived at the core world of the Star League after a month-long odyssey escorted by SLDF forces neutral to the current succession crisis rocking the Steiner-Davion territories. Turian military officials have confirmed the authenticity of the brief memo from the commanding general, which had been relayed through ComStar, currently under investigation for violation of the Treaty of Shengsi. The short communication also confirmed the Citadel enclave on Tharkad is in good condition, putting to rest concerns regarding the state of the isolated community.
OOO
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He skipped the rest of the article. He wasn't interested in the fate of some turians far away from him. The warring humans would be stupid to draw the military might of the Citadel onto them for the sake of a few optimistic idiots. Then again, the universe was full of stupid. He'd care when shots were actually exchanged.
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XXX
*; Comm Relay Network Collapse: Lessons From the Human Sphere : Leading communications professor from Thessia leads colleagues in public statement regarding vulnerabilities of current communication networks in Citadel space.
OOO
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Trite. The same warnings had been passed around for years already. He knew for a fact the militaries were prepared for the possibility since the Krogan Rebellions.
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XXX
*;Third Skyllian Inferno Imminent : Batarian units mobilising in Skyllian Verge, observers predict campaign to reclaim lost colonies.A decade ago, the Second Skyllian Inferno left the Skyllian Verge divided and in ruins. Since then, both batarian and human warmongers have relentlessly advocated for the reclamation of lost colonies. Only the presence of Citadel peacekeepers has allowed a modicum of stability to return to the region, still plagued by conflict. With the recent turmoil engulfing the Human Star League and the withdrawal of the turian fleets, a third Skyllian Inferno appears all but inevitable. Indeed, some military experts suggest it has already begun.
OOO
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"Battlemaster Urdnot Wrex?" A timid voice asked. The small human shuffled erratically under his stare, squeaking out, "The professor is ready to see you."
"Finally," he grunted, getting up from the cramped chair and stomping forwards. The human ducked out of his way and let him pass. Wrex ignored the alien and slammed the door shut behind him. Privacy now secured, he turned to face the professor, and stared down into the barrel of a shotgun.
"Did the Shadow Broker send you?" The academic asked. "I'm not interested. Am I going to have to send another message?"
"Put that toy away or I'll make you regret it. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have waited outside," Wrex growled. "I'm here on my own business. It's about the future of the krogan race, professor."
"And how do I know you're speaking the truth, Battlemaster?"
"Because I had been calling your secretary for weeks. And sent at least ten messages, Professor Juhg. So put that gun down, or I'll stop playing nice."
The krogran professor cautiously lowered his weapon. "What do you want from me?" he suspiciously questioned, "I don't have anything you need."
Wrex gave a throaty chuckle. "Oh, I think you do. Your research on pre-salarian krogans, for instance."
Professor Juhg snorted derisively. "You think you're the first warlord who thinks the old ones had superweapons hidden away? How precious," he scornfully replied, "There's nothing there for you. Anything left after so long is so outdated and decayed even a human wouldn't be interested."
"I'm not here for weapons," Wrex circled around the professor towards the krogan-sized couch. "I'm interested in the other things the ancient krogans left behind. Their culture, for one."
"Their culture? You couldn't steal the technology the human Clans used for their sibkos, and now you want to stand out from all those other warlords copying the humans? No. I'm not helping you. I won't let you pervert my research to recruit more children." Professor Juhg raised his shotgun again. "Get out."
Wrex sat down on the couch, far more comfortable than the chairs outside. "That's not what I'm after." A shotgun blast bounced off his kinetic barriers and fell harmlessly to the floor. He scowled. "Drop the gun. I'm trying to be polite here." He paused, waiting to see if Professor Juhg complied. When he didn't, Wrex continued speaking, "I'm looking for a solution to our species' decline."
"The krogan Clans all decided the humans were the answer. That's why you lot went to the human Clans."
"Yes, and then I realised we were wrong about the technology. It wouldn't solve the genophage."
"Really?" Professor Juhg skeptically asked. "Artificial wombs to replace the natural ones, that somehow wouldn't improve krogan fertility, bring our race back from the brink of extinction? Or are you just bitter you don't have it?"
"I'm bitter because the krogans are why the genophage is still a problem." When Juhg didn't respond, Wrex continued, "when I heard about the human Clans, of course I was excited. I think we all were. A martial society like our own, and with their artificial breeding creating the perfect warriors. A lot of the krogan leaders tried to get the technology, myself included. It would have been the perfect solution. The greatest krogans could have as many children as they wanted, without all the stillbirths and failed attempts."
He thought back to those days of false hope. "Of course, the humans weren't willing to just give us the technology. But enough of us persuaded the humans we were worth considering, as fellow warriors." He chuckled at the fond memory of facing an Elemental in honourable combat. "So, eventually, a few of them permitted us to visit a world of theirs."
It had been a bright moment in his centuries of existence. The chance to finally dispel the pall of the genophage hanging over his species. He had already named his first five future children, scribbling the names down where even the Shadow Broker couldn't find them.
"We saw the technology in action, their scientists watching over rows of growing foetuses. Every one of those would grow into a strong warrior. One of their experts discussed the difficulties of converting the wombs for krogan use, but she said it was possible." Their salvation had been so tantalisingly close. And then the humans had withheld it. "They refused to gift it to us. We had to prove ourselves worthy. One of their leaders said it might take years."
"I should have known some of the Clan leaders who came along were too impatient. They weren't willing to wait. So they tried to take it by force. What better proof of power than that?" The battlemaster had never discovered how the others had smuggled the krogan troops through Tartarus. It didn't matter. "Those fools succeeded, and we all had to flee from the humans. Not that I blame them." The artificial wombs had been in operation, and krogans didn't concern themselves with collateral damage during the battle either.
"I don't know whether STG was involved. All I know is that there wasn't enough of the sibko technology to go around after that." Not just the wombs. Prisoners who understood the science, support apparatus. "Every Clan wanted a share. And it wasn't a salarian who started shooting. By the time I made it back, nothing was left. The Clans blamed the STG for sabotage. The humans weren't interested in talking."
Professor Juhg grunted loudly, angrily waving the shotgun. "Get to the point. I have a class to teach."
"I took part in the discussion about what to do with the sibko technology we had stolen, before the infighting began. Listening to the others, I began realizing the real problem with our species. Too many wanted to use the sibko to create more warriors, like the human Clans. They wanted to breed soldiers, an army. Conquer the galaxy with a new krogan horde." Some of the idiots were speaking of adopting the humans' culture already by then, to weed out the weaklings.
"Violence is how krogans work nowadays."
"Heh. Exactly. Curing the genophage won't be enough save our species. We'll just make the same mistakes again, and we might not be lucky enough to survive next time. Our culture is too focused on violence. Which is why I've been looking for solutions."
"And that's why you're here," Professor Juhg concluded.
"Indeed. The ancient krogans didn't keep killing each other. I've seen their legacies on Tuchanka. They had art. How many of us are artists, not in the killing sense? Our people need something other than violence to orient themselves. We can't only rebuild ourselves into a warrior culture. Even the human Clans had more than just that. And our shamans aren't enough. All they do is slow down our decline. I need more."
"So what do you want from me?"
"I want your help, Professor. You're one of the galaxy's top experts on ancient krogan culture. Return to Tuchanka, and spread that knowledge among the Clans."
"Nobody was interested," Professor Juhg scoffed. "That's why I'm teaching at this human colony. Nobody else cares, not even the krogan."
"They'll care, because I'll make them," Wrex promised. "Clan Urdnot will follow me, and I'll crush the skull of any who defy me."
The other krogan stared at him, then laughed. "Tempting, but I'm busy here. How about this? Show you mean what you said. Clan Urdnot controls a number of ruins on Tuchunka I've always wanted to excavate. Support me, and I'll come."
"Deal."
"Well, then, time to give my students the good news."
The two krogans stepped out of the small office. In the auditorium outside, a few young humans still sat pale-faced and terrified in their seats. The security guards lay on the floor in a neat heap, quietly groaning. Wrex had been polite enough to tidy up after the refreshing scrum. Professor Juhg ignored them, announcing to his students with outstretched hands, "My dear students, I've great news! We are going to Tuchanka for a proper archaeological dig!"
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