They found Strux in a place called "Paradise," which left Sara doubting the definition of the word. Arid and hot, the building was dim in the shade and blinding where the sun poured through open windows to bleach the paneled flooring. Drack hadn't been kidding about Elaaden's heat; people would die in this kind of weather.

Paradise set itself apart from the rest of the scorched desert in that it had water. The establishment's proprietor was matter-of-fact in both being the only source of water for the planet and how that guaranteed both her safety and the safety of those within her walls.

Sara bet there was more water. Maybe not in the spaceport or what counted as a city, but statistically, it was likely there'd be water elsewhere, even if it was on the other side of the planet. SAM felt it was wiser to focus on the krogan, the enormous derelict Remnant vessel crashed amid numerous sinkholes, or the scavengers that were barred from even Kadara's lawlessness than to antagonize the only immediate source of water. He had a point, so Sara excused herself without prodding.

Strux of Clan Jorgal was found on the roof of the Paradise. Not even krogan could withstand the heat of Elaaden's sun for long, but Strux and his female companion who refused to identify herself feigned indifference as they baked. Sara's ego wasn't tied up in who could outlast the other while her suit's sensors screamed in her ear, so she quietly wandered into the shade offered by an exhaust vent.

Apparently that lost her points with Drack, but Sara hadn't inherited her mother's complexion and her father's chalky skin burned too easily at even the rumor of sunshine. From the comfort of the shade, she watched Drack stroll over to the other krogan and begin chatting.

"Strux!"

"Maybe." Strux was more guarded and with a nod to Sara asked, "Who's your friend?"

"Human Pathfinder." Drack shook his head. "You asked us to meet you here."

"Yeah I did." Strux glanced to his companion and slowly began to relax his shoulders. "Thanks for coming."

"Trouble at the colony?"

"It's headed to a bad place. Morda's become a tyrant."

"Did she kick you out?"

Strux shook his head. "Hasn't come to that, so I'm laying low. I want to keep my eye on her. She's planning a strike against the Nexus, that much we know."

"Morda's leading the colony for a reason," Drack scoffed. "She's tough, but that's good."

"You're not there, Drack," Strux insisted, waving his hands. "Morda is going to rip this colony apart."

That earned a snort. "A bit dramatic, even for you."

"We all need to eat," Strux said. He shared another look with the female. "Morda's rationing. My group thinks the krogan should make peace with the Nexus."

"The Nexus would like that." It was true, but the way Drack said it implied he would not.

"Talk to Ravanor Brenk," Strux told him. "He's one of us on the inside."

The heat must have finally gotten to them, as Strux retreated down a stairwell along with his girlfriend. One more shake of his head and Drack joined Sara by the exhaust vent.

"So," Sara trailed off as she began the short walk back to the Tempest. "You think he's telling the truth?"

"What I think, is that Strux is a pissant," Drack replied, his mouth twisting. "But Morda has always been temperamental and I've been off Elaaden for too long. I wouldn't jump to conclusions without knowing more."

"What I meant was should we hurry over to New Tuchanka or would it be better to sweeten the deal by activating a couple monoliths, first?" she asked.

He snorted. "You just think it will be cooler in the vault, don't you?"

"I bet I could fry an egg on your front plate right now," she replied with a shrug. "But no. I didn't say vault. I thought we'd just hit a monolith or two, show Morda what we're in the process of doing, that we're here to help so she knows she can trust us."

"No. That's a bad idea."

Sara frowned. "Helping is a bad idea?"

Drack stopped abruptly. "Kid, you want to help, you activate the vault in its entirety or you ask Morda what she wants from you. You show up with a job half finished, she's liable to see that as a threat. You could activate the vault, but you won't unless the krogan play nice with the Nexus. Leave the planet's status dangling until they bow their heads to Overlord Tann."

"But I didn't mean it like that-"

"Doesn't matter," he said. "We don't need half gestures that sound as nice as they are useless. Activate the entire vault if you want to be helpful, otherwise respect Morda enough to direct you on what the clan needs."

"I can be respectful," Sara groused.

"I bet you can," Drack chuckled. "Assemble a team quick. I'll be waiting when you're ready to head to New Tuchanka."

Back on the Tempest, Peebee wanted nothing to do with Elaaden. "No way!" the asari exclaimed. "I only just got the last bit of sand out of POC's gears."

"You could leave her on the ship," Sara suggested.

"And let her get lonely?"

"She's a machine."

Peebee gasped and cupped her hands over POC's auditory receptors. "Ryder! Don't hurt her feelings, I can't work with her when she's pouting!"

Sara blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"POC, like most things, responds better to positive reinforcement," Peebee said with an affectionate pat to the bot's chassis. "I would think you and your SAM of all peoples would know that."

"That's different, he's an AI- and what do you mean 'peoples?' We're two separate entities."

"That share a single brain." Peebee shot an eyebrow up.

"We do not share a single brain," Sara groaned. "Do you know how screwed the Initiative would be if it had to rely on my brainpower alone?"

Peebee paused as she appeared to mull over that fact. "I like to think some of our solutions wouldn't have been nearly as creative if we had to rely on the reasoning of nothing but an AI," she allowed. "You really need me on Elaaden?"

"Need is a strong word," Sara sighed. "But if you don't come, then who will?"

"Jaal, Cora, Liam, Vetra..."

"Okay, okay, fine!"

Peebee beamed at her. "Try to have fun out there, Ryder. Make sure to wear sunblock."

So, Jaal it was. Cora could be Queen of the Tempest while Sara was away and do nothing but eat snacks as she watched SAM painstakingly reassemble the Leusinia's path. Never mind that Sara intentionally left Vetra behind because the turian was astute enough to read the temperature of the local scavengers eyeing the ship and to insure that whatever social mingling Liam performed was minimal. It didn't matter who was really in charge, so long as everyone stopped grumbling long enough to get the work done. Sara painted her nose bright white with a generous smear of sunblock and put her helmet on.

The krogan stronghold of New Tuchanka was impressive. They'd bunkered down beneath the cover of an elaborate mountain cave system to prove that denizens of the Milky Way could actually hold their own in this galaxy. Primative and crude, but also successful. Sara could see why Tann was reticent to discuss the krogan; he exiled them to conceal his bungling and they thrived in spite of it.

The reverence was not mutual. Sara was immediately stopped at the gate and only allowed inside after Drack had vouched for her. She could still hear the whispers as people milled about and pretended at business as usual, and though it had more to do with the Initiative markings on her suit than being human, there was a similar distrust to when Sara first landed on Aya. She kept close to Drack's heels and tried not to stare too long at any one krogan.

For someone who was supposed to meet them at agreed upon coordinates, Brenk was hard to find. Sara made her way down to a loading dock that fed into a storeroom and Drack stopped abruptly. After standing awkwardly while krogan deliberately ignored her, she picked up on one who was slowly organizing crates just to her left.

"You Ravanor Brenk?" Sara asked.

"Quiet." He didn't look up from his work. "Yes. Anyone tells Morda-"

"Hey, Nexus. I'm the one you talk to around here."

With an angry flash of his nostrils, Brenk beelined it away and out of sight without another word. Another krogan, slimmer than Sara ever would have guessed stalked over, her shadow not quite large enough to engulf Sara.

"Morda?" Sara hazarded.

"I'm Nakmor Morda," the krogan female corrected. "Overlord of the krogan on Heleus." Her tone thawed slightly as she glanced at Sara's companions. "Drack. Kesh told me you had a new job."

"New?" Drack scoffed. "I wouldn't call babysitting a new job for me."

Morda's eyes shifted back to Sara. Cold and calculating, the Overlord leveled a long look at her. Morda reminded Sara of a serpent sizing up prey to decide whether or not it was small enough to devour whole. "And you're the celebrated Pathfinder from the Hyperion found at last."

"Ryder."

"This is thrilling." Morda did not sound thrilled. "I've never stood so close to a Pathfinder before... mostly because the krogan never got one. Welcome to New Tuchanka."

It seemed that Sara was destined to follow in Tann's shit-covered footsteps. Was there a way to word it delicately? "You and your people have every right to be pissed off-"

"Humans were welcomed into the Citadel Council with open arms while the krogan endured centuries of oppression." Morda's speech was crisp as it clung to every syllable. Sara wasn't sure if she should be on edge over their almost scripted meeting or relieved that it sounded like the Overlord had more longstanding frustrations and animosity than simply Jarun Tann.

SAM urged her to focus on the angry krogan pacing before them.

"You have no idea," Morda growled. "Your sympathy only makes me mad."

Sara held up her hands. "Okay. Okay, sorry."

"Why are you here, Pathfinder?" Morda demanded. "To see what a successful colony looks like?"

"Yeah, actually." Among other things.

"Your manipulation is so transparent," the krogan immediately sniped and even Sara had to admit she'd walked into that one. Morda turned her back to them, done with the conversation. "No advice for you, only regret. Watch- the krogan will thrive and the Initiative will pay. Get out of my face before I smash it."

"That doesn't even make sense!" Sara muttered at Morda's retreating form. "I know she's trying to threaten me, but the way she's worded it makes it sound like she's going to smash her own face-"

Two powerful hands came down on her shoulders and for a quick second, Sara's feet forgot what solid ground felt like as Drack physically lifted her and pointed her body in the direction from which they originally came. "We're done here, kid," he said. "Unless you're trying to goad Morda into demonstrating what she meant."

"I just want everyone to make sense." She yanked her shoulders away from his grip as her feet hit the ground. "I'm not Tann. I'm not with Tann. I can't do what I need to do for everyone if they all keep playing games."

Drack stared a hole through her. "You think I'd be walking with you, making sure Morda doesn't eat you, if I thought you were anything like Tann?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "She wouldn't eat me."

"Yeah, probably not." He chuckled fondly, as if he was trying to imagine just how Morda would go about eating her. "You're not Tann, but you dress like him. Not everyone can see the big picture like my ru'shan."

"Yeah, but that's why I brought you," Sara groused. "To be a liaison. To vouch for me."

"Which is why you're still in one piece," he replied. "Morda's a hard ass, but that was a bit much, even for her."

"She plainly said the Initiative will pay," Jaal interrupted. "How is that unclear?"

"See?" Sara pointed a thumb at the angara. "Jaal doesn't like games, either."

"I love games," Jaal sounded almost offended she would suggest otherwise, "but they don't belong in politics."

Drack shook his head at them. "Let's just find Brenk."

After Sara's failed chitchat with Morda, they weren't allowed anywhere near the Overlord's inner circle, with or without Drack. Sara tried not to let herself get too irritated by that and to just focus on where Drack was taking her. They went deep into the intertwining catacombs of New Tuchanka. There were so many tunnels that overlapped and intersected that she had to stop herself from having SAM analyze how the krogan achieved that engineering marvel without collapsing the entire mountain on themselves. Better to leave it a mystery, she decided, in case it had more to do with dumb luck than any structural ingenuity.

Brenk was at the center most heart of the colony. Once again, he ignored them, this time in favor of leaning over the railing of a massive fighting pit.

"If Morda hears I'm talking to you, I'm kicked out," he said as the varren below snapped and hissed at each other.

"Should I put fifty credits on the blue one, you think?" Sara leaned against the rails and interrupted his line of sight to the varren. "Or silver spots? Last thing I want to do is jeopardize the Nexus or this colony."

Brenk stepped around her and settled on a new spot away from where she'd perched. "Me neither. Or Clan Ravanor. Or Clan Jorgal. Or Clan Urdnot." With a glance to Drack, Brenk grudgingly added, "Some in Clan Nakmor, too."

"Don't hurt yourself with that admission," Drack grumbled.

"Did you see the crashed ship as you landed?" Brenk asked, ignoring Drack. "Morda's after the drive core."

Jaal frowned and joined Sara against the railing. "It's Remnant, you can't activate it."

Brenk jerked his head to the angara, like he only just realized Jaal was there. "What are you talking about? She's building a bomb."

A bomb. Sara's initial reaction was to call bullshit. The more she thought on it, however, she had to acknowledge just how very krogan a bomb would be. She glanced at Drack, and while he didn't appear to take the bomb as a given, he also didn't vehemently deny it, either.

A Remnant vessel had wildly different and sophisticated tech. It was a priceless find that could help propel both the Initiative and angara if studied. But anything with enough power and reactants could be turned into a bomb. What a waste.

"Demolition teams have been busting down walls for months, battling those robots and scavengers," Brenk continued, oblivious to the numerous considerations weighing Sara's mind. "Lots here want peace with the Nexus. If Morda gets that drive core, boom, it's over. Now get away from me."

"Thanks, Brenk," Sara muttered. He didn't respond after that and neither did Drack. In the fighting pit, the silver speckled varren had torn out the throat of the blue one to the unsurprised murmurs of onlookers. Guess Sara had made a bad choice. She paused for a second to guarantee she hadn't missed anything- the blue varren writhing in a frothing wake of dust and blood- only to realize both Jaal and Drack had left. She scurried after them.

"Well," Sara said after they rounded a corner in the endless winding tunnels of New Tuchanka. "That was... enlightening?"

Drack breathed an angry chuf through his nose. "We need to get to that ship. See how full of crap that pyjack is."

He had a point. After all, pyjacks were always full of crap and tended to have more than enough to throw.