SfS-3

==Salvaging from StrifeChapter 3==
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===Chit Chat about Lostech===
Asteriod Omega
Aurigan Coalition
3080
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Sitting underneath the protective bulk of the Mech, Tali carefully reassembled a medium laser. The sensitive internal components were undamaged, but the housing had to be completely replaced after it had slammed through at least two thick walls. From what she had seen so far, melee damage seemed to be distressingly common among human BattleMechs.
When the quarian had set out on her pilgrimage, she had considered visiting the Perseus Veil, but reports of a roving Clan warband seeking geth trophies had dissuaded her. There were rumors in the Migrant Fleet about how they treated slaves. She found work as an engineer with a human company instead, and quickly found herself assigned to their mercenary buddies. Tali's father would consider the story a lesson about reading the small print.
The mercenaries were professionals at least, but she couldn't bring a gift back to the Fleet by working with hired killers. Still, this was an opportunity to learn about human technology and maybe obtain contacts in the Human Sphere. The humans were happy to teach her, and the pay was amazing. Aside from the twinges of guilt, there was only one downside.
"Hey, Bashtech!"
"Bosch'tet!" A delicate lens had misaligned when her concentration slipped, and now the whole thing needed to be recalibrated. She turned and glared at the smiling human behind her. "Jenkins, please don't sneak up on me again." she groaned.
Thanks to a translator malfunction, the mercenaries had bestowed an embarrassing nickname upon her.
"Oh, sorry, thought you heard me coming in." the young mercenary apologized, "repairs going well?"
Tali gestured vaguely at the datapad on the workbench. "Well enough, I suppose. Just armour and maintenance mostly." The Locust had taken a few hits from anti-armor weapons, but nothing too serious. She had been left to work on it alone as an exercise, although head engineer Virtanen would check her work later.
"Any way I can help, Bashtech?"
Enough was enough. "Would you stop calling me that? I know you can speak my name."
"Why not? It's your callsign. Everybody has one."
"Oh, really? And what's your callsign?" To her surprise, Jenkins' face reddened and he looked away.
"Birdbrain." he muttered quietly.
Huh, maybe her callsign was acceptable. It was a good thing he couldn't see her face.
"Look, just use my name, and I'll stay with Jenkins. If you want to help, get into the cockpit and run diagnostics." It would be easier to check the systems with somebody reading at the controls. While Jenkins clambered up the side of the Mech, Tali took a moment to appreciate the view. Strong legs, sharp hips and a hard shell covering a fascinatingly complex interior. The only ugly bit was an armored compartment jutting out under the undercarriage, where the humans had crammed a salvaged eezo core. She still remembered the feeling of professional horror when examining the original makeshift interface, a sobering reminder of humanity's inexperience with element zero.
"Alright, booting up systems, Tal. Everything green so far," Jenkins yelled from above, before switching to short-range comms, "walk me through." In response, Tali began poking and prodding at the leg joints, trading information with the mercenary.
Half an hour later, Jenkins climbed back down again. Other than a few minor kinks, they had found nothing in need of maintenance. Satisfied, Tali declared, "Well, that's done. Let me fit the laser in, and your Mech is ready to go."
Jenkins cleared his throat and cautiously spoke, "Well, I actually have a request, if you don't mind." Tali's posture must have been visible to him, because Birdbrain grinned sheepishly and continued on, "You're an expert in Citadel technology. I was wondering if you could remove the laser, fit a Drone Control Suite instead."
"It's possible, but are you sure?" Tali hesitantly asked. The refit seemed straightforward enough, if a bit crude. The Drone Control Suite was little more than a control and transport system for the ubiquitous scout drones available everywhere, although the Locust would outrun the drone even without a mass effect field. It was mostly a question of connecting the power supply and control systems. The problem was, the Locust was already poorly armed, so removing the medium laser would leave it with only two machine guns for defence.
"I know reconfiguring the loadout is tricky, but I think it's a better choice for the next mission. We're deploying to Feros after all?"
Tali nodded. She had listened to the briefing that morning, together with everybody else. Even if she would never meet him, the idea of working with the famous Spectre was intimidating. The details of the contract were sparse, but what the Star Hunters knew was that Saren wanted them for an operation on Feros, the Prothean city-planet.
"You're thinking about the tunnels." she realized. Jenkins nodded.
The scavengers of the galaxy had picked the ancient ruins clean centuries before humanity had emerged onto the galactic stage. Nobody had bothered colonising it either, the Prothean remains covering most of the planet decaying for 50,000 years and leaving little space for agriculture.
Then the humans arrived, well known for possessing a strange obsession with Lostech, a legacy of their disastrous pre-contact history. When the humans learnt of an ancient, planet-spanning metropolis left behind by the mysterious precursors and builders of the mass relay network, they went, to use a human term, utterly fruity. Independent explorers and large-scale salvagers descended on the planet with a zeal that single-handedly ended quarian jokes across the galaxy. Older quarians still told tall tales of how Spectres were sent to establish order and bring the mess under Star League control.
Eventually, the major factions managed to organize the fortune-seekers, forming several 'archaeological' colonies on the surface. A vaguely stable status quo had emerged, before a new calamity rocked the planet four years ago, when the extremist Word of Blake struck Feros without warning.
Fanatical infiltrators had subverted large swathes of the population and smuggled nuclear warheads into the colonies. On some unknown signal, the Blakists detonated the nukes and simultaneously instigated a planet-wide revolt, plunging the colonies into chaos. When Star League and Citadel troops crushed the uprising, the defeated extremists dispersed a bioweapon across the Prothean megatropolis and fled into the ruins. Most survivors fled the planet in the aftermath, but others clung on stubbornly, reinforced by new treasure-hunters dreaming of Lostech Caches and Blakist plots.
If the Star Hunters were operating on Feros, chances were high Saren wanted them to deal with the Word of Blake remnants still lurking on the planet. A Drone Control Suite would be beneficial in scouting smaller passages in the ruins the Locust might have difficulty squeezing through. Tali stared silently at Jenkins until he began shuffling nervously, then sighed.
"Not a bad idea, Jenkins. You'll have to ask Head Engineer Virtanen for permission, and I'll need to get another engineer to help, but I should get it done by tonight. I'll show you the controls tomorrow."
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===Preparation for a Journey===
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There was no place for handmaids in her retinue, so Sumire's bodyguards took up their duty. Her hair, carefully groomed to exacting standards, was styled after High Lady Arano's coronation. The ostentatious dress was delivered from Coromodir, an elegant blend of Kamea Arano's court regalia and recent fashion. Makeup was applied with familiar strokes, accentuating her family resemblance to the legendary ruler of the Aurigan Coalition.
She still remembered her grandmother's words, spoken in private so many years ago. "Even after so long, our people still remember the Arano Restoration, what the Sword of Restoration fought for. When you go beyond the relay, you will be leading Aurigans far from everything they have known and loved. They need a symbol, whether for comfort and guidance, a promise for the future, or simply to remind them who they serve. You must be that symbol. When the people look upon you, let them see House Arano." From the ruler of the Aurigan Reach, the advice was as good as an order.
Sumire took in her appearance one last time in the mirror, searching for any faults or mistakes. Satisfied, Lady Arano departed her quarters and made her way towards the bridge of the Dawn Cormorant. The crew of the modified Union-Class saluted her as she passed them and sat into her assigned seat. Silently, she observed as the small squadron approached Feros, a young noble in command of her court. Nothing disturbed the three Leopards and the Union as they neared the silent graveyard, diminishing mass effect fields dropping the visitors beneath lightspeed. Right on time, a holovid call came in.
She accepted, and watched as three separate faces flashed into existence before her. Saren and Shephard appeared on her left and right respectively, while a worn-looking woman faced her head-on. "Lady Arano, on behalf of the Star League Archaeological Garrison, I bid you and your companions welcome to Feros." Brigadier Westergaard, the Taurian hastily appointed acting commander when the original Steiner general resigned, greeted the Aurigan noble coolly.
Lady Arano had just begun the formal reply expected of her, when the grim turian spoke up, "Commander Shephard, you took long enough. Were you hoping to avoid combat?"
If Monty was disturbed by his rudeness, he showed none of it. "Spectre Arterius," he answered calmly, "the contract explicitly gave my command one hundred hours to prepare and arrive. We will be touching down at the spaceport five hours ahead of the deadline. I assure you, we are more than capable of fulfilling our contract."
"That remains to be seen." The head of the Spectre dismissively stated, then turned to face her. "Arano, I'm surprised you joined. Hoping for a contract yourself?"
"Neither the Aurigan Trading Company nor House Arano are interested in your actions, Spectre." Lady Arano lied. "The Star Hunters subcontracted the Trading Company for transport and supply services on Feros. As I was planning to visit Feros myself, we decided to travel together for safety and to ease logistical concerns."
"If that is the case, stay out of my way." Saren sneered. "This world is no place for pampered princesses. Shephard, land your forces at these coordinates. You have delayed my plans for far too long, so I expect you to be ready the moment you disembark."
"If the two of you do not mind, the Lady Arano and I shall continue our conversation separately." The SLAG commander drily commented. The two males vanished, leaving her alone with the Taurian.
The brigadier broke the silence first. "I suppose your dropship is still landing at SLAG. If you need to, we can loan some transports to ferry cargo to the Spectre's base."
"I thank you for the offer, Brigadier."
"Now, I'd like to know why a member of House Arano is here as well." A look of suspicion covered Brigadier Westergaards face. "It's bad enough an alien operative is raising havoc on the planet, I'm not too pleased with even more trouble joining in. Why are you here?"
"I am only planning to negotiate the purchase of some alien artifacts, Brigadier Westergaard. As I understand, the FedCom portion is currently accumulating in your warehouses, given the political situation. The Aurigan Trading Company is interested in purchasing some of the excess wares."
The Taurian frowned. "The Prothean salvage is strictly regulated, Lady Arano." she rebuked. "You should be aware of that. Whichever Steiner-Davion wins the FedCom throne, they'll demand their full share. To say nothing of the precedent you'll set. SLAG will be burning within the hour."
That was a harsher refusal than she had expected. "You have an impressive force under your command here. Surely you can maintain order." At least one lance from each great power defended Star League interests on the world, to say nothing of ComStar's orbital assets or Star League mercenaries. Compared to that, her own escort was pitifully lacking.
"And I cannot trust them. Over half of my garrison is preparing to reenact the Succession Wars, including my own troops. I already had to isolate the Free Worlds and Capellan detachments from each other today before any incidents occurred." At her questioning look, the older woman elaborated, "The first messages reached the relay network yesterday. Marik and Liao each claim Tsinghai asked for their protection. Now it's a three-way battle." The brigadier grimaced in contempt, before continuing. "As much as it pains me to say it, my most reliable assets right now are the mercenaries and Comguard. I will not tolerate any disruptions of the current equilibrium, even if the Spectre were not disrupting the peace."
"You have my sympathies, Brigadier." Lady Arano acknowledged. "Nonetheless, I believe the Aurigan Trading Company can still come to an agreement with SLAG. Some of the more common and inert salvage, perhaps? Our dropship will be landed at SLAG for some time. My forces are available to assist you for the duration of our stay."
"I won't turn down any help you offer." The brigadier sounded displeased by the admission. "At least you're not likely to use this visit to settle some grudges. Your realm's too small to risk upsetting the Great Houses."
One of her subordinates would handle the details, so she moved on to the next matter. "In the interest of cooperation, I request information on Saren Arterius' activities and objective on Feros. My people could find no information on his actions here."
Brigadier Westergaard's head moved as she considered Lady Arano. "Arterius preferred secrecy, my Lady. He rather insistently requested we ignore his activities. While the Spectre has no official authority here, I have instructions not to cause a diplomatic incident. The Great Houses have enough spies here if they are feeling curious, so you may as well know."
A floating projection of Feros appeared before her, with markers denoting SLAG and other sites of interest. "Your friends are hardly the only force Arterius has brought here. He has a network of operatives scouring the underground tunnels across the planet for the last two weeks. Obviously, the Word fanatics are not taking the intrusion well." Red and yellow beacons lit up across the surface, timestamps recording known Word of Blake activity and Saren's movements. "'Archaeological surveys have ceased entirely in light of hostile conditions. Now the mercenaries are here, Saren might finally finish whatever he's doing and get off my planet." The beacons converged onto a cluster of skyscrapers south of SLAG, the coordinates Shephard was given.
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===Else where, Surviving a tangle with 'Mechs===
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The Urbanmech was a light Mech, slow and expendable. This one was in terrible condition, covered in dust and corroded armour, vocally protesting every movement its pilot forced. It was also, the asari decided, an utter nightmare.
The monster had the gall to ambush her recon team from below, smoking pillars of flame lifting it out of a dark shaft and into optimal range for its autocannon. Their Tomkah vehicle had been the first casualty, immobilized when the shells mangled the rear. Its turret managed only one defiant shot. The survivors had scattered while the crew died, seeking cover in the rubble and side tunnels.
Torvus had the only heavy weapon of the squad. The pudgy turian had been smart enough to set an ambush, flanking the Mech when it entered the intersection in pursuit of an upset Besch. Unfortunately, he hit the left side. While crippling the secondary weapon was useful, there was now no retrieving his weapon from under the rubble.
The asari had succeeded with a biotic attack once, striking at the ankle joint before fleeing down the small tunnel she had hidden in. When she next saw it, heralded by earthquakes and the whining of poor maintenance, it had acquired a noticeable limp, but was all too happy to spin its 'head' backwards and target her position with a brief burst.
She supposed Besch had forgotten their original objective and wanted to boast about his kills later, because she emerged from the debris pile to see the krogan somehow clinging onto its dome, crawling towards Torvus' hole with a bandolier of grenades. The titan had simply rammed itself against crumbling walls over and over, leaving a bloody smear across its torso.
She could not escape again. Her leg was broken and trapped, her weapon was too weak to breach the cockpit, even if it were within reach. She considered facing death with dignity, then decided she preferred to live. Better to play dead, and hope the pilot thought her dead.
Time passed. She could still hear Mech, even if she couldn't see it from her current position. Was it toying with her? Out of ammunition? Sounds of something climbing across broken rubble finally convinced her to stir and risk a glance. A group of bioweapon victims were shambling towards her, naked and grotesquely mutated, uncaring of the giant warmachine contemplating her. The asari screamed and lashed out, biotics shoving them away. The crumpled shapes merely contorted themselves onto their feet again and resumed their motion.
Rumbling. Somewhere too far away, the rattle of kinetic weapons and the roar of collapse. With disturbing synchronicity, the rotten forms ambled towards the suddenly moving behemoth and clung onto its feet. With a final blast of flame that obscured it in pulverized concrete, the Urbanmech rose away and out of sight.
Her comms began registering friendly signals through the fading jamming. The asari watched numbly as a Tomtak bulldozed their way through the clogged streets, coming to a halt beside her. A medic attended to her, checking her suit for thankfully non-existent leaks. Someone reported finding another survivor, hiding under the mangled wreckage of their vehicle.
A second Battlemech swaggered into view behind the vehicles, painted in urban camouflage. Larger, shinier and moving with disturbing smoothness towards her, it stepped past the asari with barely a twist of acknowledgement and around another building, towards the now steady cacophony of battle.
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