May 12th 2162. Aralakh system. 10:57. Terran standard time. Achan valley, Tuchanka.
Krong was wading through the bodies of the dead mercenaries scattered all over the emplacement, firing as he went. They had been deeply dug in, machinegun-nests, bunkers and trenches were placed in expert defensive position, each trench and bunker covering at least two others from being flanked and overrun. Not that it had made much difference anyway. Krong and his men had waded right through the hail of bullets, almost completely overrunning the emplacement before the enemy could organize any shred of defense. Nasty surprises had always been one of Krong's strong-points.
Krong was a true tank of a Krogan. Easily recognizable for his formidable size, even by Krogan standard, and the heads he had mounted on pikes sticking out behind his armor. He was a mass of muscles and plates. Every inch of his body covered in thick, blood red armor. In his hands he was carrying a large quadruple-barreled shotgun, a personal gift from one of the Clanleaders under him, who had also been the weapons first victim.
He kicked the body of a Turian away from his path, the males armor littered with the markings of the 'Iron legion' mercenary band. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest at the sight of the headless body, he enjoyed killing Turians the most. Asari were a close second, just above Salarians.
The Iron Legion was just one of dozens of mercenary groups, private armies, gangs and pirate bands that had been flocking to Tuchanka these last few months. There were warriors from the Blazing guns, Steel Mandibles, Annihilators, Rising suns, hidden stars, Red blades and many, many others. Ever since the humans had 'Allied' with his clan, they had come to his planet in droves. First it had been a few dozen at a time. Then it became hundreds. But these last few weeks, they had been dropping off by the thousands. They were all landing at the 'Space port' that had been hastily assembled near Ruanok mountain, coming to take part in the new wave of war and conflict that had swept over the wasteland world.
He didn't know how Clan Wulknot had the cash to buy off all of those mercenaries. They were the leaders of a small coalition of clans who opposed his ascent to the position of supreme warlord. But what the Wulknot and its subordinates lacked in true Krogan warriors, they more than made up for in sheer numbers of Pyjack mercenary scum. The last report he had received from his Human 'allies' stated that there was at least eight-thousand men stationed near the base. That would make quite a pile for him to sit on when they were finished with them all.
Suddenly, two crouched forms materialized to his left. He acted on reflexes honed through half a millennia of war and combat. Without taking aim, he fired three rounds from the hip. The recoil of his weapon, and the sound of its report send adrenalin coursing through his system. He saw both of his targets getting hit, one dropping to the ground clutching his belly, the other pitching over, knocked off his feet by the strength of the impact. He heard some rubble displace a few meters to his left. He whirled around to see a Salarian, one of his legs missing, trying to crawl away from him. He rushed over, placed the muzzle of his gun against the back of his head and pulled the trigger.
"No survivors! I don't want any of these weak pyjack scum to make it off our world alive."
It took them less than a minutes to finish the clean-up. They had almost gained complete control of the emplacement, only a few scattered pockets near the northern end of the position left, before the howling of gunships could be heard over the din of the battle.
"INCOMING!"
He threw himself to the ground at the last moment. A fraction of a second later, the bunker behind him was obliterated by a hail of rockets. He saw scores of his men falling to the hail of bullets of the under-slung cannons on the wings of the gunships, their bodies turned to shreds under the barrage.
"RETREAT! FALL BACK!"
They left the bodies of their enemies to rot on the field, and carried as many of their own fallen as they could back to the forward camp they had established before the attack. It was placed in the ruins of what had probably been a hospital once, centuries ago. It was a two kilometer run over dessert and radioactive wasteland. All the while they were being harassed by the hostile gunships. When they finally left to rearm and refuel, less than a quarter of the original strike force was left.
They entered the base, wounded, hurt and depleted. There was activity all around him, tanks, transports and other vehicles were racing around the camp, Krogan were assembling in groups outside of their camps, while weapons and ammunitions were being distributed.
Almost every clan on Tuchanka had been assembled under his banner, some more forcefully than others, and they had all sent their best warriors to participate in this last attack. The liberation of Tuchanka was close at hand, and it was all thanks to him and his strength. They had been mere miles away from the space-port, the only way for the enemy to receive supplies and reinforcements. Any of the clans that had stood against them had been mercilessly destroyed. His victory had seemed sure. Then, out of nowhere, the gunships had arrived. They had been facing them before, usually in ones and twos, but a lucky shot from a rocket launcher usually took care of that.
These were different. They just wouldn't go down. Every time their rockets got a lock on them, they would fire, the rocket would zoom towards the gunship, only to change course in the last second. They had tried everything, but so far they hadn't even scratched them. They were being pushed back across the wasteland and was now a good twenty miles from the space-port. The emplacement they had just taken out was less than three days old. It had been placed to prevent them from attacking again, fortifying their position even more. They had thought that the gunships would discourage any attacks before it had been fully prepared and manned. But they had forgotten that they had been facing true Krogan. Fighting for their homeworld, and more importantly, for the bloodthirsty and merciless warlord Krong. He would not accept defeat.
One of his men came running over, a look of determination and excitement plain on his face.
"Overlord Krong, the human merchant is here. He's brought the new weapons with him."
He walked past the warrior and headed directly towards the platform. He enjoyed it when the humans came. They always brought new toys. And money. Loads and loads of money. His 'reward' as they liked to call it. Really, it was his pay for behaving so well. They had first contacted him a little more than half a year ago. Back when he was leading his clan as a private army, fighting for profit and fame. He had at first been suspicious of their offer, it sounded too good to be true, but now he was quite happy that he had agreed.
The deal had been simple. Use his fame and strength to gather the Krogan clans, declare himself the leader of all of Tuchanka and then start a 'liberation' of the planet. He would receive weapons and money to finance his war, and they would keep the Council from directly interfering. As long as he didn't attack any council forces. When the time came when he had complete power over Tuchanka, he would assume the position of 'Overlord' and go to Earth to liaise with their human allies. In truth, he would retire to an estate where he could spend the last century or two enjoying life. With all the money they had paid him, he had become an extremely wealthy Krogan. The actual ruling of the planet would be done by the humans. He was simply supposed to validate their decisions and act as a figurehead that the Krogan could respect.
Truthfully he didn't give a Pyjacks hide for what happened when he was done. As long as the bastard council didn't get to rule over them, he really couldn't care less about this hellhole. All he cared about was the money. And the killing and shooting was a neat bonus.
Entering the makeshift shuttle-pad, he was greeted by the sight of several shuttles, all of them packed with crates and boxes. He saw the familiar figure of Victor Bout, the armsdealer who was supplying them with their much needed weapons.
"Victor! You son of a Pyjack, what have you brought with you this time!"
He smiled despite himself. Victor always had some interesting new toys with him. And if they were going to win this next battle, they would need everything they could get.
"Krong! You tanned snakehide! What do you think I brought with me? Candy and Dresses?"
Krong shrugged his massive shoulders, an innocent expression on his face.
"Well, those small pieces of crap you usually sell us aren't worth much more than candy and clothes in a fight anyway, so you might as well."
Victor walked over to a big, flat crate and kicked off the lid. Inside were long, triple tubes with several attachments to them. Victor pulled out one of them and, with great difficulty, hoisted the large weapon up on one of his shoulders.
"I actually did bring you something new you ungrateful bastard. This is the new, man-portable 'Eagle-killer' AA-rocket launcher. Should make neat little piles of scrap metal out of those attack shuttles you've had so many problems with."
Krong hoisted one of the launchers onto his own shoulder, impressed with the weight and feel of the weapon, and pointed it towards the sky.
"Yeah, those can be a bitch. The bastards didn't have them two weeks ago. Been making mincemeat of my men ever since. This thing have any anti-personnel capabilities?"
"Sure, just load 'em with hellfire rockets and watch the show."
Krong discarded the launcher and went over to inspect the other crates. Mostly they held more ammunition for the human weapons they had been receiving steadily over the last few months. Smuggled in with the help of their stealth ships, right past the Council blockade, and then handed to the Krogan. The weapons had turned the tide of the conflict to his side. Initially, most of the other clans had thought him another upstart warlord with ideas of glory and conflict with the citadel. Many of them had lost their will to even try fighting for their freedom. But the strength of his men, and the power of the human guns, had quickly convinced them.
"So how much did you bring this time then?"
The human Looked at his datapad, consulting the numbers.
"We've got six-thousand rifles, three-thousand shotguns, five-hundred launchers, two-thousand sets of armor, twenty-million rounds of various size, and ten-thousand rockets. That should keep you supplied for another two weeks."
Krong nodded. If everything went as planned then they wouldn't need more guns in two weeks.
A series of explosions shook the ground, knocking Victor of his feet.
"It seems that we have time for a field test of our new toys then."
Krong smiled as he picked up a few rockets and loaded a launcher. He rushed outside to see the camp in disarray, several blast craters marking the impact of the rockets where, previously, had been bands of warriors or vehicles. He could see a trio of gunships coming around for another run.
He activated the launcher and aimed it at the gunships. A clear, high-pitched noise alerted him that the rockets had locked on. Without thinking about it, he launched all three rockets at once. The recoil almost sent him flat on his back, and he had to take a step or two back to regain his balance.
The rockets flew across the sky at an accelerating speed. The pilots, used to the rockets swirling away after a short time, didn't even try to avoid them. After only a few seconds of pursuit, the rockets reached their targets. The following blooms of fire in the sky told him of his success. He smiled broadly, those gunships had been harassing his men and camps almost without opposition. with their previous AA weapons unable to lock onto them, the mercenary armies had gained air superiority. But with these new weapons, the Krogan had regained the initiative. Victory, would soon be his. And then, he would punish Clan Wyrlock and their allies. He would remind everyone why they called him 'The butcher of the Terminus'.
May 12th 2162. Aralakh system. 01:22. Terran standard time. Ruanok mountain, Tuchanka.
Operative Joneson could see the enemy base clearly through his binoculars. Although it was pitch dark, and the enemy base was more than a mile away, he could easily make out the faces of all the aliens walking around the perimeter, sitting in their emplacements, or sleeping in their camp.
He buzzed the com-bead in his ear to contact the other operatives closer to the front.
"Night two, you've got a couple of guard coming your way from the right. They should be with you in about eight secs."
He kept his eyes on the guards in question, two Salarians, who were slowly making their way towards the position of one of the entry team. After exactly eight seconds, they passed right in front of them.
Nothing happened. The two guards simply walked past. Slipping from the shadows, two almost invisible shadows moved on to their objective.
"Thanks for the update Eagle-eye. Moving on to primary."
The next hundred meters looked clear. They moved from shadow to shadow, slowly but steadily making their way towards their main objective. The munitions depot.
Officially, the 'Krogan liberation war', as they had started to call, it was a purely domestic affair. It was a civil war between various Krogan clans. Therefore, no Imperial or Council forces were present on the planet. Unofficially, Tuchanka was teeming with agents from both sides. The black legion had been busy smuggling weapons, ammunitions and funds to the planet, while their agents were busy weakening the opposing side's defenses and forces.
On the other side, the council spectres had infiltrated the mercenary forces and used their expertise to target the enemies weak spots, guiding the beleaguered mercenary groups, and focused on taking out as many high ranking Krogans as possible, with Krong being target Number one. Initially, the spectres and STGs had been the only agents present on the planet, working with clan Wurlock to stall the aggressive offensive of Krong and his compatriots. The empire had thought it adequate to simply supply weapons and money for their champion, letting him do all the wet-work. But as the forces of warlord Krong began stalling, and then were being pushed back, they decided to send in some extra help to turn the tide.
And so a shadow war had started. Wherever the two sides met in open war, the Council and Imperial forces would clash in a clandestine conflict. They both knew of the other side presence. But to admit that they knew was to admit that they were also present themselves. Therefore, as an unspoken but mutual agreement, both sides forcefully denied any interests in the conflict, other than concern for the civilians caught in the middle, and denied any presence of any government sanctioned agents on Tuchanka. According to the Council, the STG were simply monitoring the system for any unauthorized ships or transports entering or leaving the system without invitation by the clans. According to the Empire, any humans selling arms or actively fighting on Tuchanka were simple criminals and war profiteers who would be persecuted once they returned to Imperial space.
"Eagle-eye, this is Night four. The VIPs have been taken care of. Falling back to extraction zone two."
"Acknowledged Night four. Route is clear, fall back and await pickup."
He resumed his watch. His partner tapped him on the shoulder to indicate something was up. He looked at the small part of the HUD that was the P.o.v. of the man next to him. He switched his own binoculars to the indicated position and saw immediately what was wrong.
In the carpool, several light vehicles were being prepped. Personnel flocked to them, jumping into vacant seats and grapping unto railings.
"Attention all team. There is a commotion down at the carpool, assume cover has not been blown I REPEAT assume cover has not been blown. Continue with mission, update will follow."
He watched anxiously as the vehicles left the carpool. He quickly looked around the camp but saw no other obvious signs of commotion. They drove out the heavily fortified front gate and left in the opposite direction of his position.
"The vehicles have left. No obvious sign of discovery. All groups, report progress."
"Group one, almost done here, just three more charges to go."
"Group two, falling back to EZ."
"Group three, targets neutralized, preparing for EZ."
"Group four, almost done, just a few more minutes and we'll drop out."
He anxiously waited for the last two teams to finish their assignment. Every second heightened the chance of being discovered, in which case the team would be left behind. The imperium would not acknowledge their existence and the mercenaries would most likely torture any survivors for information.
But fortunately, they were not discovered. The four teams completed their objectives and silently slipped out of the encampment.
"All secondary objectives have been completed. Eagle-eye moving in to complete primary."
He motioned for his partner to get up. The other teams had simply been planting charges and taking out low-level officers and clearing the way for his team. The real objective were his to deal with.
They moved across the wasteland, careful not to disturb any of the wrecks that littered the area. When they were only half a kilometer away, they dropped to their stomachs and began slowly crawling closer. It was slow progress, not only did they have to be careful not to make too much noise, but they also had to edge around the many mines and traps that had been planted throughout the duration of the conflict.
Suddenly, only a hundred meters from the base perimeter, they heard the unmistakable sound of an engine rumbling. They lay completely still as they felt the slight tremors of the ground that signaled that a vehicle was approaching. They did not have to wait long.
Coming around a small dune that had concealed it, the light vehicle cruised towards their position. Inside, they could make out six crew members, two of them manning a large machine gun perched in its back. It came towards them at a great speed and Joneson was sure they had been spotted. He suppressed the urge to fire his handgun, hoping against hope that their position had not been discovered and that their black capes would blur the outline of their bodies efficiently enough.
The vehicle edged ever closer, and his hand was trembling slightly over his holster. When it reached their position, it was as if time slowed to a halt. He could make out every detail of the individual crewmember. The scar over the Turians left cheek, the slight laziness in the eye of the Asari gunner and the missing tip of the Salarians middle finger. All that they needed to do to discover them, was to look out into the dark. Even with their capes and their high-tec mirror-armor they looked extremely conspicuous against the red and brown desert sand.
The vehicle passed them. After a minute, they continued their crawl towards the enemy base. They neatly passed the guards just outside the gun emplacements, and slipped passed them to hide amongst the tents and foxholes of the base.
They had few problems sneaking through the base. Most of the occupants felt secure that their guards and mines would alert them to the presence of any enemy force. They therefore had little challenge remaining undetected as they moved amongst the undisciplined gangers and mercenaries. Besides, Krogan were not known for their stealth and sneakiness.
Their objective was in the center of the base. A large structure which was built upon the skeleton of a transit hub. The space-port was an ugly and unimpressive building. But it got the job done adequately, and supplied the enemy forces with the equipment they needed to keep fighting. But the next ship would not bring in any weapons and ammunitions. It would bring in a group of spectres and high-end professional mercenaries. A group of such warriors could easily change the fragile balance of power back into Council hands. And command was very interested in making sure, that they never landed on the face of Tuchanka.
It only showed the hypocrisy of the alien government. They violently blocked any passage of any ship with any military personnel going to the demilitarized zone, while actively funding and equipping mercenary forces to fight for their own guy. But of course, all their ships were 'Humanitarian aid' or some other such nonsense and the blockading ships could do nothing to stop them. They had all the right paperwork and all the right signatures and therefore they could travel to Tuchanka, offload some food, some meds and a ton of soldiers, and leave without being assaulted. Usually, the mercenaries were labeled as 'Volunteers and specialists with expanded jurisdictions and means' which basically meant that they could do whatever they wanted to do, as long as they claimed 'self-defense'.
On the way, they picked up several parcels left by the previous groups. Too bulky and too noisy to carry undetected all across the wasteland by themselves, they had split up the weapon so that it could be assembled just before use. And so, encumbered by the heavy packets, they made it to the edge of the space-port.
The space-port was much better defended than the rest of the camp. Their intel had uncovered the presence of several Spectres already established in the base. Although they had encountered, and subsequently eliminated, other spectre forces throughout the conflict, these were in greater numbers and in a tighter concentration. Good thing they didn't need to get closer than a few hundred meters.
They entered into a large empty tent, the bodies of the occupants left in their cots so as not to raise to much suspicion. Joneson and his partner sat down and unpacked. They deftly assembled the long rocket, consisting of several sections, and then placed it on the guidance ramp that they had also assembled. All the while watching their backs for any guards or drunken mercenaries who might disrupt their mission. He checked his chronometer. Less than ten minutes to go before the ship arrived.
They set up the ramp and the rocket and angled it towards the sky, cutting a small hole in the top of the tent to allow it free exit. They wasted no time after that. The complicated guidance system built into the rocket would take it from here. when the target entered the atmosphere, it would know what to do.
They left the weapon and started sneaking out of the camp. They made sure to take the same route out that they had used getting in, not disturbing any of the guards or mines on their exit either.
When they had just made it past the furthest edge of the minefield, they heard the sound of giant thrusters kicking in. Looking back, they could see the frigate entering the air-space just above the camp. And then, a little spark lifted from the ground, speeding towards the enemy frigate.
It had been crucial to get the missile within the complicated anti-missile-defense-system that had been place around the main base. After having lost a few of their supply-ships to lucky fire from some Krogan AA heavy artillery, supplied by the Human tax payers, the council forces had set up the intricate protective system to prevent any other ships from being shot down. It did have one weakness however. To prevent the system from destroying their own missiles, it would not target any outgoing projectiles. That meant that they had had to smuggle the whole thing inside the perimeter for it to be capable of taking out any of the hostile ships. And since it was a one-shot thing, they had to make it count.
The missile flew at a blinding speed, shedding its first set of thrusters when it neared the shields of the Frigate to prevent them from stopping the projectile. When it passed it, the second set of thrusters kicked in. It slammed into the frigate, boring through the armor. When it reached its intended target, the magazine, it triggered the core of the missile. An experimental payload of highly unstable explosive liquid designed to activate the other explosives within its near vicinity was dispersed throughout the confined area. The following explosion was spectacular, but for Joneson and his partner, it also signaled a successful mission.
Explosions ripped through the vehicle pool and main storage area of the base as the charges of the previous squads, now covered by the debris and general destruction from the frigate, triggered and destroyed whatever they were attached to. Vehicles, tanks, munitions dumps and many other crucial emplacements and depots.
All the other agents had already extracted. So the two remaining operatives left the hostiled controlled red zone behind, silently stalking towards their makeshift HQ another twenty miles away were they would make their report and await their next mission. He was dearly hoping that the war would be over before then.
May 18th 2162. Widow system. 21:54. Terran standard time. The council's private chambers.
Markaus was silently reviewing the report on the whole affair, reading the list of decisive events that had led to them losing control of the Krogan homesystem, and later, the war. The Salarians were always quick to point out what they could have done better after the events had already unfurled. Of course they had underplayed their own STGs lack of success in locating and plucking their security breach which allowed the humans to supply the Korgans with arms and armor.
"How many casualties did we take throughout the whole ordeal?"
Councilor Sadra was perhaps the one to take the whole thing the worst. Especially the economic loses of the shadow war had been staggering. Since they were unable to directly support any group in the conflict, being an internal affair as it was, they had had to support their preferred winners by paying for their mercenaries and weapons. As the war progressed, and the mercenary casualties mounted, the price climbed with the body count. It was all made even more expensive by the fact that they had to hide their interests in the conflict. And so, for every credit that was paid to weapons manufacturers, mercenary recruiters, smugglers and other shadowy types, they had to pay three credits to keep it secret. Adding to their already hard pressed economy, the cost had been devastating.
"Twenty-seven spetres dead, fifteen are MIA, and seven are severely wounded. Three frigates have been destroyed throughout the war, and five transports. As for the mercenary bands, we still have very few reliable reports on how many of those participating have escaped the planet, but we suspect that about four fifths were KIA, and most of those who managed to get off the planet were wounded."
The Asari councilor grabbed her forehead and looked gloomily at the table. They had no idea how many mercenaries had actually participated in the war, since they could not directly interfere, and since the mercenary bands inflated the numbers to gain more credits. But they had narrowed it down to between fifty-thousand, and seventy-thousand participants. Most of which had been killed or wounded. Inostre was composing a statement regarding the Krogans declaration of independence and alliance with humanity. They really had no idea of what to do. There had really never been any sanctions against the Krogan that banned them from creating a single nation. It had just never been considered necessary. But now here they were having to deal with a unified Krogan people allied with the second most powerful, and most obnoxious, nation in the galaxy. There was no denying the fact. They had lost control of the entire Krogan sector.
"We have to acknowledge them. We could claim that we have always supported the gathering of the Krogans into a single nation, and decry any who opposed it. That should create some distance between us and those elements that fought against Krong. We might as well try and salvage our reputation if nothing else."
Inostre nodded.
"I concur. Tuchanka is outside our control. As long as the humans do not insist on arming them we have no legal basis to deny them assembly or to decide upon their own external affairs. Continuing this conflict on Tuchanka would be counterproductive."
Markaus nodded, and after a short pause, so did Sadra. They agreed that the fight for Tuchanka was over. The humans had won this one. But all in all, it was only a moral victory. The Krogan could be used as soldiers of course, but their numbers were too low, and without a fleet of their own the balance of power had not shifted considerably. There were no strategically placed planets or transportation hubs in the near vicinity. No rich worlds or garden planets. Nothing to fight over really.
"I thought your contact would have informed you of the humans interests in Tuchanka sooner than he did Ilian. Is he not reliable?"
The Asari councilor looked at Markaus, her eyes piercing.
"My contact can be relied on completely. But if he had revealed their intent too soon, they would have grown suspicions. As it is, we have a more important matter to attend to."
She pressed a few buttons on her side of the table, thereby activating the holo-projector in the middle of the table.
"I believe that it will soon be time to initiate our emergency plan. The Humans have shown themselves to be reckless and dangerous. With the loss of Tuchanka, and the continued expansion of the Humans sphere of influence, I believe it is time to take matters into our own hands."
Markaus was listening intently. He knew about the plan she was talking about. They had been working on it these last few months, in close coordination with her human contact, and she had assured them that it could be done. But he was skeptical. Sure, it would kick the humans into line, and let the council resume control of the galaxy. But it would take some serious PR work to keep the civilians happy.
"It is risky. But I agree. They have become more and more aggressive. If they continue on this course, they will create some serious havoc amongst our systems. The ball is in our court and I think that we need to act soon, and fast, if we are to retake the offensive."
Inostre agreed with them. He drew some graphs onto the holographic image. Trying to explain the math his teams had been doing and the impact their actions could have on both humanity and the Council races.
"If we were to act quickly, we can prevent a conflict which could kill millions. If the Humans strike first they would undoubtedly attack our weakest systems on the fringe. It would disperse our fleets across a larger area, meaning than we would have to retake some planets and diverge precious time and resources to reestablish order. If we attack first, we could cut down on military loses and cost. But in the process we could kill thousands of Human civilians. I believe that this is a small price to pay. The economic impact will be considerable, but would eventually help to restabilize our own markets as the dominant in the galaxy."
Markaus reviewed the plan. It was quite simple actually, but there were so many things that could go wrong. Especially since they were kept mostly in the dark regarding everything that happened on the Human homeworld, which they had only recently learned the location of. But they still had little to no intel on what they were to expect on Earth. Therefore, they had decided that they would focus on the colonies, and leave 'Earth' for the Humans to deal with. Sadra's informant was unwilling to divulge its position and strength, and even the most anti-imperial humans he had had contact with had refused to say how well it was protected and armed. Apparently, that was one thing they all agreed on. None of the humans wanted their homeworld overrun by aliens, no matter how much they disliked their government. And therefore the council would only have a small role to play in the initial part of the plan. But their role in the second part of it, was a great deal more important and dangerous.
"And are the humans ready? Have your contact prepared accordingly?"
Sadra nodded.
"Yes. He and all of his assets are ready. They are just waiting for confirmation."
She looked at her datapad, frowning as she reached the bottom of the page.
"Although I find it distasteful how we plan to initiate the conflict, I believe the sacrifice is necessary. It is small, considering what the galaxy stands to gain."
Markaus remained silent. He had also read the last part of the plan. The one that would warrant an attack on human planets. He could hardly stomach it. But he understood why it had to be done. He hoped that the spirits would not damn him for his participation.
May 18th 2162. Widow system. 21:54. Terran standard time. Citadel news network.
"Good evening viewers, I am Sasha Vi'ana and this is Citadel News. Recent developments in the conflict on Tuchanka. Celebrations erupt on the war-torn Krogan homeworld as the bloody civil war that has raged for almost six months comes to an end. Our reporter, Nilia Zaveri, is live on the scene. Nilia, can you tell the viewers what is going on?"
"Yes Sasha. As the viewers might know, a large scale conflict has raged across the Tuchanka between the two faction, the Krogan Liberation Army, and the Tuchanka Defence Union. With the defeat of the last stronghold of the TDU, they have elected to surrender. The numerous supporters of the KLA are celebrating in their bases and camps throughout the planet. One would never have guessed that they had just been embroiled in one of the bloodiest conflicts to have ravaged Tuchanka in recent times. Joyous celebrations have erupted, and the rebuilding effort has already commenced across large parts of the planet as the natives try to return to normality."
"Thank you Nilia. In the studio, we have expert in Xeno linguistics and biology, and the acclaimed author of 'Walking amongst the Krogan' and 'Humans: The new Rachni', professor Isha lian. And retired General of the Turian fifth army and military expert, Niarkus Kaleintus. welcome to you both. Now let me get straight to the questions. Many of our viewers have expressed concern that the Krogan conflict was engineered by the humans. Ms. Iian, what do you have to say about these wild allegations?
"Well, for any government or nation to actively engineer a conflict for its own gain requires that said nation has an overabundance of both wealth and a well establish espionage department. Neither of which the Humans possess. Their self-exile from the Citadel has severely dented the human economy that was, quite frankly, not very stable to begin with. As those who have read my book "Humans: The new Rachni' will know, the 'Empire' as they call their government, is in a very bad position. The discovery of the Citadel, and the superior technology and government possessed by the member species, has damaged the populations trust in their own leaders. Engineering a war would be counterproductive. As for secret agents and such, the humans are grossly outmatched by the Salarian STG and could not hope to ever commit any clandestine activities without us knowing so."
"Thank you professor Ilian. Now, a few of our viewers have pointed out that in our coverage of the conflict we reported that TDU made extensive use of mercenary forces and private armies. General Kaleintus, why did they resort to such extreme measures to continue a war that they had clearly lost?"
"Hmm… Well, the viewers have to remember that, although citadel news covered the conflict quite extensively, the viewers did not receive the entire picture."
"How so?"
"Well, a battle is a highly confusing and chaotic situation. The whole outcome may change in a matter of seconds. A single mistake made by either side may change the outcome. A war is just one long battle, and for a time, it genuinely looked as if the KLA would win the war within a week. The viewers might recall the battle of Kruchnok plains where more than twelve-hundred KLA soldiers were surrounded by TDU forces. After three days of hard fighting, they finally broke through the enemy formation after the arrival of more than three-thousand mercenary fighters, allowing the few survivors to regroup. As the fighting continued, the KLA brought in more and more mercenaries. They managed to push back the TDU to its original positions. When the TDU resumed their offensive, the KLA needed more men to keep them from being overrun. The longer they fought, the more men they needed to keep on fighting. And so, the mercenary forces soon made up nine tenths of the TDU army. It became a question of survival rather than victory. Perhaps they hoped for Citadel intervention to save them. But, the human's support of the war criminal Warlord Krong meant that any intervention would result in an escalated conflict that would have cost even more lives."
"Thank you General. Now we have received some very interesting questions from a large number of our viewers regarding the council's support of the new statement by the Krogans self-proclaimed ruler, warlord Krong. Why would the Council support a nation led by a convicted criminal? Professor?"
"Tuchanka has not had a gathered government for more than a thousand years, and the fact that an individual, even one like Krong, has gathered the clans under him means that the Council now have a chance of actually guiding the Krogan on a path of healing and rebuilding. If we do not assist them, then they will soon revert to their previous barbaric state. And we can certainly not allow the Humans to support them alone. That would destabilize their own fragile government and would ultimately spread conflict across both Krogan and Human space as they try to keep each other from failing."
"Thank you Professor. I am afraid that that is all the time we have for today. Tune in for our midnight report for an update on the evolving situation on Tuchanka. On our extranet site, Professor Ilian and general Kaleintus will answer questions regarding the development of the conflict and the Human and Council involvement in the war. I am Sasha Vi'ena and this, is Citadel news."
May 18th 2162. Widow system. 22:44. Terran standard time. The joint embassy of the Elcor and Volus races.
"This one greets the honored ambassadors of the Elcor and Volus. May the Inkindlers bless this meeting. But this one is curious, what is the matter that you wish to discuss."
The Hanar ambassador glided gracefully through the door into the joint embassy of the Volus and Elcor, taking in the scarcely decorated room. At one of the two large tables he could see the ambassadors of the two races standing closely together, discussing in hushed tones. Well, as hushed as an Elcor could talk anyway.
"*Hiss* Thank you for coming Kahje clan *Hiss* we have something that we would like to *Hiss* discuss with you."
"Concerned: Are you quite well Karna Von? You sound more distressed. With Regret: Perhaps this meeting was not a good idea, we should not be discussing this."
The Hanar drifted closer to the two, observing the body language of the Volus, as he was the easiest to read, and tried to coax some more information out of them.
"This one would like to know what the honorable spokespersons have been discussing."
Karna made a dismissive gesture with his hand, his rotund body swirling toward the Hanar.
"*Hiss* as you know, the council have been *Hiss* placing harsher and harsher taxes and tolls on *Hiss* our species to support their own *Hiss* failing economies. *Hiss* Our own economies have suffered greatly in return, and even the renowned skill of the Volus bankers have *Hiss* been unable to procure enough funds to keep us afloat."
The Hanar drifted up and down the aisle, pacing along the red carpet. He did indeed understand the predicament of the Elcor and Volus. The Hanar were in a similar situation. The council was squeezing them too hard and too fast.
"With determination: If we do not do something, our planets will suffer from recession. Pleadingly: Do you not agree that we must stand together to solve this?"
The Hanar took a moment to ponder this. The Hanar had always been an unremarkable race when it came to Citadel politics. Apart from raising some fuzz every time a new Prothean dig commenced, most of the other species had little business with them. But like the other client races, they had a stake in the economic peril that the Citadel was gliding towards.
"This one agrees. The economy on this one's home planet has also suffered immensely. But this one does not see what the members of this gathering can do. This one does not possess any hope that a solution can be found."
At this, the Volus made a sound, halfway between a hiss and a cough.
"Well. As it happens I have been *Hiss* consulting with some of the more prominent members of the *Hiss* Banking clans. We have reached a plausible solution."
"With joy and hope: What does this solution entail?"
There was a long pause as Karna looked from one ambassador to the other.
"What if we requested *Hiss* to become part of the Human empire."
The Hanar stopped drifting up and down, and the Elcor ponderously shifted its large head to look directly at the Volus.
"With shock: How can you suggest such a thing. Fearful: If the Council were to discover that we planned such an action, the repercussions would be severe."
The Hanar drifted closer to Karna, trying to discern if he was genuinely suggesting that they split with the Citadel, and join the Humans.
"This one would like to know how the Honorable Ambassador suggests that we join the Human nation?"
The volus held up both of its cubby hand in a stalling motion.
"*Hiss* I have had contact with elements within the Human government. *Hiss* They claimed that if the lesser races were to *Hiss* partition to join the Empire in a loose federation, they would *Hiss* not be hostile to the idea. They even *Hiss* said that if such an eventuality would come to pass, they would *Hiss* offer protection from any reprisals from the Council. *Hiss* Their other demands were more than reasonable. *Hiss* I believe that a lucrative agreement could be reached with the Earth-clan."
There was silence in the small room. They looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak. None of them liked to think of the possibility of reprisal from the Council. None of them had any considerable military power that could protect them or deter any attack on their holdings. Should they truly break with the Citadel? They had been members for hundreds of years, and they had enjoyed a golden age under the protection and guidance of the Council. But the new kids on the block were stronger, more aggressive and brought with them the promise of a rejuvenation of the galactic market. They had beaten the Council at every turn and although they did not have the military power of the Council, they had managed to destabilize the millennia old union without firing a single shot. And the Volus had even hinted that the Humans had promised them a part in the decision-making process.
"With interest: This sounds like a very beneficial deal for our species, do you believe that they are genuine? Concerned: I have no desire to condemn my people to become slaves to the Humans."
The Hanar drifted back to the red aisle. Slowly going back and forth.
"This one believes that the honorable ambassador mentioned a Federation. But this one would like to hear more concerning the benefits of joining with the humans."
The Volus looked agitated. Like he was under immense stress trying to explain them his ideas. The humans were not exactly popular in Citadel space amongst the more powerful species. But the client races, with the exception of the Batarians, all saw the Humans as powerful and noble. They stood up to the council. They held their ground and demanded equal rights for their race, should they wish to join. That was something they could all understand.
"*Hiss* look at the Quarians. *Hiss* they have become vassals to the Empire just as the Volus are vassals to the Hierarchy. *Hiss* but look at the prosperity they have. *Hiss* It is less than a year ago that they have joined the Humans and they already possess *Hiss* six worlds and a booming economy. *Hiss* if they continue at this pace, they will have an economy that surpasses that *Hiss* of the Elcor within just another year. *Hiss* meanwhile, our own markets are bending under the pressure from the citadel. If the *Hiss* Humans can offer such prizes for their slaves, then imagine *Hiss* what they could do for their allies."
They all contemplated the suggestion. Split with the citadel and join with the Humans. It was a gamble, but with the way things were going they might as well risk it. But it would take coordination and unity.
"Determined: I have been convinced that the future of our people lies outside of the Citadel."
"This one concurs. Although this one is saddened that the long term friendship and bond between the species of the citadel will be broken, this one is also hopeful for the future."
May 18th 2162. Sol system. 00:34. Terran standard time. The chambers of the inner council.
"We can't just let him go on a rampage across Tuchanka. We have confirmed that he has already slaughtered at least four hundred members of the Wyrlock clan. How long until we have had enough?"
Augustus stared at the large screen that covered one entire wall of the conference room. On it, was a picture of a long, shallow grave dug across a small area. Within were the deceased members of a small group of Wyrlock Krogans. It was a bestial sight, one that they had predicted to some degree before the end of the war.
"I want him on a shuttle to Earth within the next three hours. We need to remove him from Tuchanka before he starts a full purge of his enemies. Once he is removed, we can reestablish order. Have the peace-keeping legions arrived?"
"Yes sir, they are deploying as we speak. Should they disarm the Krogan groups?"
Augustus knew enough about Krogan to know that that would not be an option. He shook his head an instead addressed the next issue. The small room was filled with specialists and ministers of different departments. They were supposed to work on the 'New Tuchanka' project.
Project 'Heated conflict' had been an astonishing success. The Black legion had worked wonders and managed to not only secure victory for the Human supported Krong, but also to gather valuable intelligence on the Citadel forces and weaponry. They had used the war as a field test of their equipment against that of the citadel and had had the chance to severely improve their weapons. Already the factories were pumping out upgrades and special ammunition for their legions. They did not suspect a war would arrive anytime soon, but they would prepare as though it would.
It had not been without costs however. Thirty-five agents had been killed throughout the conflict, most of them when one of their transports had been discovered and subsequently destroyed. It had been a severe blow to the morale, but they had avenged their losses tenfold, and made the council pay.
Now, after the conflict had ended, they had decided that they would transfer a considerable amount of funds into terraforming Tuchanka. Mostly to keep the Krogans in line, but also to start improving the lives of the warlike people. Fortunately, most of the money they would invest in Tuchanka would circulate back into their own treasuries as most of the corporations that would be allowed activity on the planet was owned by the government. To save even more money, they would employ as many Krogan as they could. They could act as cheap labor for improving their own conditions.
In the end, Tuchanka would be subject to an aggressive rebuilding effort in some smaller pockets, also mostly to control the Krogan population in line, and to gather them in smaller areas. Thereby making the humanitarian aid easier.
But it would still become exceedingly expensive and difficult. It was all made harder still by the fact that there was no real economic gain to be had. The population did not have a taste for luxuries or other such goods. There were no resources or any other special items to be exploited. Nobody would invest in a project that would not give any gains. So, all the activity on the surface would be paid by the government. An expensive business.
"With the removal of Krong from the near vicinity, we need a strong second to keep them in line while he is away. We need an even headed male who is easy to control."
He was about to bring up a few suggestions that some task group had worked on, when he felt a discreet buzzing on his wrist.
"Excuse me gentlemen. I must step out a few minutes, please continue in my absence."
He rose from his chair and left the room, leaving most of the attending officials a bit confused.
He silently walked down the aisle between the many conference rooms and entered a small room and locked the door.
He fumbled through his robes, looking for the injector with the stabilizer liquids. As a part of his treatment at the private hospital, he had been given a highly advanced form of medication. It had been given to him in the form of a few implants that would slowly rebuild his shattered and stress eaten body, while also improving his mental performance. It was highly advanced, and was still in the final testing phase. It did have one major drawback however.
If he did not regularly inject himself with the stabilizer liquids, the implants would begin working overtime and that would wreak havoc on his heart and veins. Especially his mental condition would deteriorate as his brain began overheating. But as long as he took his medication regularly, it would not become an issue.
He winced as the injector punctured his arm. It hurt like hell. It felt like fire was creeping up the inside of his arm and into his chest. He grinded his teeth together as not to shout out in pain. The stabilizer liquids made him nauseous and dizzy and he had to take a few minutes of rest before he could get back into the conference room. He made sure that no sign of his activity was visible. He had to remain strong for his people. If he could just keep it together a bit longer, he could steer the Imperium into a new golden age. One where they were the supreme rulers of a galaxy in growth and prosperity. All of his plans were neatly coming together. He was the only weak link. And he was determined not to break.
May 18th 2162. Widow system. 02:54. Terran standard time. The human ambassadors private chambers.
Liam was checking through the long list of people that he had under his command. Everything was neatly coming together. His elaborate scheme would bring the galaxy into turmoil, but it would be worth it. He couldn't help but smile. He had successfully manipulated the two largest factions into a position that he could use for his gains. It had been so easy. A promise here, a threat there, a reward at the right time, everything had come together. And now, he was only days away from enjoying the fruit of his labors. He would have power. He would have wealth. But most importantly, he would have revenge.
A/N
This proved to be quite an interesting, albait, difficult chapter to write. But i thought that it turned out alright in the end. Having the three races in mass effect that each has their own speech curiosity in the same group was a pain, but i think it payed off. Hope you like it and don't go to hard on me in the reviews because i promissed an 'alliance' with the Krogan. It is the Empire were talking about ;) Hoping to get another chapter up this week so arm yourselves with patience. Thanks to Brodur for beta-reading and advice. There were quite a few spelling errors this time around. please review and tell me your thought on the chapter and on how events are unfurling, it helps alot with plugging some plot-holes and to smoothen the story over a bit.