captaindickscratcher: The hanar, volus, and elcor kinda escaped my radar until you brought them up to my notice (epic skill issue moment). Now that you mention them, though...

...yeah. Thanks for the tip; I never really thought of them until now

"...let's get ourselves a turn at poking at the sleeping giant for once..."

"Ugh...what now?" asked Karl Sternau, the Kaiserreich's Minister of Foreign Affairs as the assembled Reichskabinett began their next round of their shift. "This shit makes my head hurt..."

"If there's any consolidation, then I also feel the same way," answered Reichskanzler Reita Wedekind as she set her cup back on the table, her eyes drooping as a testament to the sheer overworked state that she was in. One, that pretty much everyone else in the Reichskabinett shared. And perhaps the Alliance's Cabinet as well. "Anyways. I think the issue of the day is, what are we going to do about the Council?"

Karl Sternau rubbed at his temples before making his statement. "We gun for the volus and the elcor. Quarians and krogans are left for the Alliance to deal with, which leaves us with these two... damn, we be speedrunning this whole part of history, eh? Not helping my sanity at all...fuck."

"Can you clarify?" Reita inquired.

"The volus are the primary client-species of the turians," explained Karl, "and the total strength of their military is roughly fuck-all if we look at things lightly; the full strength of their military is roughly equal to a turian patrol fleet and twice the typical ground detachment such a formation comes with; same applies to the elcor, the only reason why the hanar didn't suffer the same way was because the asari decided that they didn't want the turians to become too OP and thus snatched the poor dudes for themselves. Technically, they're protected under the Citadel's defense umbrella, but in actual practice, well...pirates and traffickers have pretty much free reign. Sure, a patrol might subdue a raid or two—woe be upon the unlucky saps when that happens—but what about the massive trafficking and slaver fleets who bombard planets just like the prelude to the First Barbary War? Those are the real problems here."

He continued, "Volus colonies are constantly being hit by raids, and the same is the case with the elcor. Their defenses are a joke, their militaries are weak, and the Council is basically forcing them to stay loyal by threatening to cut them off from trade and support. It's the classic protection-racket model. The turians are forcing the volus to give up their earnings and profits and then they use the money to fund their military, which means that the volus can't go on the offensive without their assistance. The Council is doing jack-shit about the matter, because they just can't be bothered to do so and because if they let those saps go rampant they can squeeze the volus and elcor even further, and besides, their patrols are a joke. Grandpa could waltz in with a superliner and a honker radio if he wanted to, and they'd be none the wiser. That's going to be like sneaking into Area 51 with a foghorn in your right hand on full blast, and a megaphone put to it held in your left...and since they have pretty much no military..."

"...they can't take matters into their own hands even if they wanted to, basically left hung out to dry," Fleet Admiral Kessler, the Chief of Naval Operations, finished. "You're basically suggesting that we step up and solve that issue for them, right?"

"Yes. We offer them 'peacekeeping' services, think hired guards, for decent, average prices, but for guards that actually get the job done as opposed to slacking on duty. Our military is well-trained and equipped, but it lacks in experience, we could use the extra income, and we'd be solving the problem while also getting to have a few extra pairs of eyes and ears on the galactic stage. And it's a good way to test the waters, and get the ball rolling."

"A fleet or two could be enough to do the trick, honestly; maybe more if we wanted to rotate them in and out of duty for refits and evening out the experience that our personnel can get as opposed to it all being concentrated in a fleet or two," Kessler nodded. "Prowlers could track raiders down to their home bases and land SAR teams to bust out captured slaves, carrier air groups can be emergency first responders for the volus and elcor colonies and systems, and destroyers can do convoy escort. All of that is doable, and would be a good start, and a great opportunity for our personnel to get their sea-legs under them. Nice opportunity for crew-training, really. Carrier Strike Group beats raider, Carrier Strike Group beats slaver, Carrier Strike Group beats evorithing!"

"You could've pulled off a 'Kosovo UN', ever thought of that?"

"Yep, which is why I'm not calling for entire swathes of ships to conduct patrol duty in affected hot-zones in the stead of the Council and their childs-play patrol fleets; we need the 5th Fleet, tops, to cover all bases effectively. Rotate them in and out, and make sure that each ship or strike group gets a chance to have a taste of the action. If the situation calls for it, we can even bring the 3rd and 6th Fleets in for a bit, but otherwise, they can hold the fort and continue training exercises."

Reita nodded. "That sounds doable. And the payout?"

"Depends on how much the volus and the elcor can dish out," Sternau said. "The volus run the turian economy, I'm pretty sure they can scrounge up decent amounts of cash to pay up for this. And the bill isn't really needed, either; it's only there to make this look like a two-way offer as opposed to a one-way charity case. Now that would be Among Us-level 'sus'..."

"Fair enough," said Reita. "And the Council?"

"Ignore 'em and treat them like the joke that they are," the minister shrugged. "They can't do shit about it; unless they wanna jump the gun upon us and declare war right now, then they'll have to watch their little scheme come crashing down. It'll be a PR nightmare, and I'm pretty sure their people won't exactly take kindly to having their own governments essentially be puppets for a foreign power, especially one that has a reputation for being ruthless."

"It's a good play, honestly," Admiral Kessler said. "Get the volus and the elcor on our side, get them to help us spread the word, and get some much-needed funds. And the added benefit of being able to get some experience in the process? Hell, it's practically a win-win situation! What could possibly go wrong?"

"...literally everything, given that old sailor's adage. Ever thought of it?"

"'If nothing goes wrong, then everything will go wrong? Yep, I know that one too. But in this case, well, the benefits far outweigh the risks."

"That's what I said about the whole 'hold my beer' thing. Then again, I guess it's not that bad. Not when you're not the designated driver, at least."

"That's a different story."

"True that, true that. But yeah...how are we going to start?"

"We send some feelers off towards the volus and elcor embassies and see how it goes," answered Reita. "See what their opinions on the matter are and see what we can do to solve the problem. Once we can get that done, we can go and talk business."

"I'm still not sure about this...it feels like we're doing this too quickly. Too fast," Sternau sighed. "Too rushed, even. We should take it slow, ease into the situation instead of charging in, guns blazing."

"You have a point, but I don't think we have that option. The Alliance is taking a pro-active approach, and the Council's doing the same. We should also take a pro-active approach, lest they gain the advantage and force us into a defensive stance, where they have the initiative and we are scrambling to try and catch up."

"If you say so...yeah. The Alliance might have plenty to gain from this, too. We've been working jointly with them and the quarians to craft eezo-based tech already, and this might be a good chance to field-test them."

"So, a double-play?"

"More like a triple-play, to be honest."

"Good. Now that that's settled, I think we're done for today. Unless anyone else has something to add?"

"Once we make our proposal, we wait. We're not going to waltz in and say 'Hey, you're all Reichsprotektorate now, so sit back helplessly while we take over your governments, mkay?', but rather, 'We're here to help and assist you. You have a problem with the Council? Well, let us take care of it for you, and we can solve the problem and take matters into our own hands, and not be dependent on them. In fact, we'll give you the means to fight your own battles, too, so you're not completely screwed over.'"

"They certainly aren't dumb enough to think that we're as noble and fair as we like to make ourselves out as, but at least, we're still a good deal fairer than the likes of the asari. We at least show some restraint when dealing with races weaker than us, the Council...not so. Matriachs can sometimes be merciless."

"We might pull it off, but we'll have to walk a fine path here, especially when dealing with such delicate matters. We fuck something up, we risk handing the Citadel some—very, in fact—potent ammunition, and that's gonna suck to deal with, royally. We might as well be playing straight into their hands for all I know or care..."

"I'm leaving this for you nerds to discuss," yawned Reita. "I'm going to sleep...fuck this, Reichskabinett be dammed. Bye guys."

"I never thought that I would ever get the chance to see the Heavy Fleet enter drydock," said Admiral Keenah'Gazu vas Neema as she looked onwards at the shipyards scattered around the orbit of the Alliance colony world of Guangxi, the vantage point that the bridge of the MFS Neema, one of the last quarian heavy cruisers remaining in existence, offered enabling her a clear view of the liveships and other vessels of the Civilian Fleet already being tended to by mobile repair ships while the Patrol Fleet kept a steady guard to ensure the safety of the Migrant Fleet, as well as the vanguard of the Heavy Fleet just ahead of their flagship, bound for Guangxi's drydock facilities. "We've been exiled for close to three hundred years now, denied even the most basic resources needed for our survival, and now, finally, we have found ourselves a safe haven, where we can rest, resupply, and recover. All thanks to the Alliance."

"Like what one of my colleagues told you earlier," said Ambassador David Anderson, Senior, "To squeeze your talents out of you cheaply, especially when we can afford to pay a fair price...it's not our métir. We aim for long-term relationships that benefit both sides for extended periods of time; not mere tools and slaves for our own selfish goals. We'd be getting out of this direct access to eezo-based technology and engineers with firm grasps of such tech willing to share them with us, saving us infinities of trouble, permitting both of us to concentrate on developing hybrid technologies combining both your base with ours, helping us humans maintain our lead over the Citadel in terms of tech development in general. It'd be pointless if you couldn't put the very tech you helped develop to good use yourself just because you didn't have the facilities needed to do so."

He paused for a moment. "And, the facilities around Guanxi, Fuji, and Narcissus are private-owned, accommodating you guys would only mean more business for Enoshima Fleet Yards, SinoViet Heavy Industries, and Krupp & Essen. Your engineers get paid nicely, you use the extra cash to patch up your ships, which allows for you to dedicate more engineers to helping us craft better systems as opposed to sitting around fixing things because your ships aren't falling apart at the seams anymore, creating a feedback loop. It's a win-win situation, honestly, and we're not the Council. They'll try to keep you as poor as possible to maintain control over you and to get the best out of you, and then once you're of no use to them anymore, they'll dump you like the trash they think of you as. We, however, have no such agenda."

"That still doesn't change the fact that you humans had the nerve to outright reach out to us and the krogans, despite risking the ire of the Citadel Council. It is a risky move, but also a brave one, and we cannot help but be grateful. You've taken a big risk, and it could end badly, but...well, I think I've already mentioned it earlier, haven't I? Sure, you gain allies from this, but that's a long-term gain, and this is proving to be naught but a liability in the short-term."

Anderson chuckled. "Having a bone to pick with the arrogant bastards sitting in their pretty offices on the Citadel Tower does give us the nice bonus of motivation needed to go literally against as many of their policies and positions as possible. We're doing it just because we can, and because they're not stupid, they'll try to up their game and outpace us; we'll have to play their game on our own terms if we are to not end up another client race. We don't fear repercussions, because we just don't give a shit about them. Fuck the Council, that's how we roll. The Hierarchy? They're alright. The salarians? They're alright too, but they're too obsessed with their STG. And the asari? Don't get me started on those blue whores, ugh..."

Gazu chuckled. "That sounds like what a typical human would say."

"Welp, you got one thing right, I'm human all right, and humans hate the Council," laughed Anderson. "Stuffy asari, secretive salarians, arrogant turians...you get my point. We made a good decision back then when we refused to join their Citadel."

"What would have happened if you did join?"

"Oh, the usual," said Anderson, "They'll be meddling into our affairs up to the extreme, and let's just leave out for a second the bits concerning our use of AIs and such...the list of things we have that break their rules goes on for a mile or so. Best case, we end up with a Council seat and become like the turians or so, but worst case, which is much more common than I'd like to admit, we become a client race to any one of the Council races and be at the mercy of their whims. That's not something we'd be willing to accept."

"I guess that's a good enough reason," the quarian admiral chuckled. "The thought of being stuck with them is a bit frightening, to say the least. I'd probably have nightmares if I ever considered it. At least, the krogans have someone to fight now, and they're pretty damn effective, too."

"I wouldn't call it an alliance, really," shrugged Anderson, "but rather, a mutually-beneficial relationship. They're willing to put their strength under our banner and in return, we'll help them get them back on their feet. Obviously they'll have a bone to pick with the Council, and there'll be some tensions, but it'll work itself out eventually. They've got nothing to lose and everything to gain, so it's a no-brainer for them. And besides, the Council had it coming."

"It appears that the galaxy is becoming more and more chaotic by the day," Gazu said as she turned her attention towards the SS Ruritania, one of the three Cunard liners gifted to the Migrant Fleet by the Alliance some three months prior (two, on human calendars). "Back then, it was a fine balance of power—the Council, the Associate races, the Terminus, and everyone else. Now, it's balanced no more. The Council has lost its dominance, and now, there are new players. Players that are more than eager to throw the Council off-balance."

"You can say that again," said Anderson, "it's like the Cold War all over again, except we're the ones throwing the proverbial Molotov cocktails, not the Citadel."

"Molotov?"

"Yeah, the Soviets used to throw Molotov cocktails, these small, easily-made firebombs, back in the days when the world was divided between the East and West blocs on our homeworld of Earth, back when we weren't spacefaring like you guys were. They were basically glass bottles full of some flammable liquid and had a rag stuffed into their mouths, the idea was that you light the rag and toss them like a grenade, and they'll burn and destroy shit up. They weren't very effective against armored vehicles, but against wooden houses, buildings, and other flammable structures, they were a deadly weapon. That's what's going on here, but set in space...yeah. The Council was analogus to the United States back in the day, and our position would be akin to the Soviet Union."

"Oh I see. That makes sense."

"Anyways, if I am to brag about humanity's accomplishments here, then I can say that we basically took to that finely-crafted balance of power with a sledgehammer and smashed it in the most dramatic manner possible. Gave the arrogant bastards a good run for their money, it seems. No wonder they were scared of us enough to rush through with uplifting the raloi."

"Do your fellow humans share your gallows sense of humor?" inquired Gazu.

"Yep, plenty of us do. Makes it easier to deal with tough situations," confirmed Anderson. "I signed up for the Marines when I turned eighteen, roughly around the time where the Second Abyssal Way just broke out, and somehow managed to survive through all the chaos that ensured—got half a dozen war medals to confirm that. I did meet Lisa and married her, that's a nice bonus, but those times sucked royally, especially at Nürnberg. Worst year-and-a-half of my line, I guarantee you. It was basically the alive, wounded, dead, and dying all thrown together into the biggest clusterfuck of warfare ever seen by mortal eye."

"The Abyssal Wars, what do they entail? I'm sorry if it is an awkward question, but, well..."

"It's fine, I'm willing to answer that. The basics are pretty well-known, so lemme tell from personal experience; I was just a recruit then, a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, just out of basic training, and they decided to chuck me straight into the meatgrinder. Got chucked into the fight alongside the boys from the 405th Division stationed aboard the Zuikaku, the old girl who ended up being our base of operations for the rest of the war or so. Getting into the thick of the fight was tough—the Abyssals had the advantage in numbers, and almost every firefight was a brutal affair that would devolve into hand-to-hand combat if we tried to stand our ground. And they have Brutes for us to contend with; they're basically krogans on steroids. My bayonet was as much of a lifesaver to me as my rifle was."

He sighed. "Anyways, Nürnberg was the worst clusterfuck out of the worst. The 405th took brutal casualties from the start, and we had to cobble ourselves in with the 501st and 307th Divisions to hold the line, fighting tooth and nail with our fellow Ground Corpsmen and any Kaiserliche Marinekorps personnel who were available at the time; I was prepared to swear that there was five Abbies for ever round of ammunition we had in our stores. And it was a goddamn miracle that we managed to survive through it all...fuckers overran the maginot line, and we had to go at it with bayonets and shotguns in the tunnels while artillery tried their best to hold them off before they could reach the city. They did, eventually, but we were able to stem off hostile orbital fire with our ground-based guns, saving us from death by orbital artillery...but the urban fighting might as well be worse.

"Fucking hell, it was a bloody nightmare; you can't see shit, and you have no idea where the next bullet would come from, nor who it would come from. The Abyssals are not picky with their targets, and it was a free-for-all...there was a lot of dying. A lot. It's like a scene straight out of hell. Blood, both Abyssal and human, mixed with the snow and mud, the air was filled with gunfire, screams, and explosions. It was a fucking nightmare. I can never forget those sights, I doubt if anyone would. I can't, at least. It was a brutal campaign, but we pulled through."

"My condolences, I did not mean to—"

"It's fine," Anderson reassured her, "like I said, I've seen worse."

"So the Council fears humanity because of your military prowess, is that the gist of it?"

"It probably has more to do with our ability to improvise and come up with anything but things inside the box," Anderson said. "Fifth Platoon had this kid named Mickey, blud probably wiped out a whole platoon by himself using nothing but Motolov cocktails and shovels. Fucked up, but hey, that's war. That's a classic example of us making a shovel out of a spoon."

"So you're saying that the Council is afraid of your ingenuity, or so? Your ability to turn the tides to your favor and overcome impossible odds?"

"Pretty much, yeah. That, and they don't like our attitude. They want us under their thumb, and we're not having any of it. We'd rather make ourselves our own masters instead of puppets, and so they have a bone to pick with us."

"And they fear your influence upon us, too, and that of the krogan. They fear that you'd be able to turn us away from their grasp."

"And they're probably right to think that, given what you guys went through," nodded Anderson. "You're the most likely race for us to ally ourselves with, the krogan would be the second. The Citadel's going to have a hard time trying to keep their clients under control, especially since we'll be making sure to make that as difficult as possible."

"And if they declare war on you?"

"We're not gonna take that sitting down, that's for sure," chuckled Anderson. "Their best example of combat experience would be counter-insurgency, and they suck royally at that job so long as it's not the krogan DMZ. We'll make them pay for every system they want to conquer, and we'll make it as difficult as possible. Not to mention the fact that their economy will be fucked six ways to Sunday because of all the attrition...and their reputation will suffer a massive blow, too. It'll be a nightmare, and their people will suffer a lot. A lot."

Special Report, Atsakiru Special Research and Development Facilities

Report created at 07:00HRS on 27/13/2212UC local time at the Atsakiru Special Research and Development Facilities, last edited on 09:00HRS of the same day. Sent to HQ at 04:00HRS local time, 28/13/2212UC.

We've discovered...well...a new element.

Okay, TECHNICALLY, it's not a new element, per se, but given it's otherworldly properties, it might as well be one...and to think we made it within an hour...

I'll attach the exact logs and time-table below, but I'll summarize: quartz crystals, when grown inside an environment that exposes them to dark energy and dark matter, becomes a strange, cubic crystal that glows in the blue-green spectrum of light, with interesting chevron-patterns in their internal crystal structure when viewed through a microscope, and when subject to electrical current in a certain method, is capable of generating artificial gravity fields far stronger and more efficient than our current systems by several orders of magnitude. It also seems to be able to double as a power source, being able to store and discharge massive amounts of electrical power if ionized (ion power cells?), alongside the ability to recharge extremely quickly. Sometimes as quickly as half a minute.

We've called it 'gravitite' because that sounds cool. We called it 'unobtanium' before, largely because we were at a total loss as to how to name it (skill issue), and because of the properties that it displays.

...how to source it was rather laughably easy (after thousands of further experiments ofc), we just needed to electrify a gravitite cube while growing additional quartz on it, this essentially nets us with a bigger cube (or a cube with some weird crystal structure growing out of it). Either way, this nets us with a feedback loop: the more gravitite we grow, the more surface area we have to craft more gravitite, and the more we can grow...

It's a bit terrifying. We're still in the experimental stage, but this could allow us to make artificial gravity generators that would allow us to use artificial gravity fields for propulsion (and we could probably rig them up to create an artificial gravity field that would be 90 degrees to the floor, allowing us to create vertical 'decks', or floors)...this could revolutionize starship design. And it's extremely efficient, we could have artificial gravity that's strong enough to simulate 1G without sucking up too much power. We could make 10Gs easily, 100Gs...1000Gs. It'd be like a really bad joke if we did that, but hey, if the engine can take it, why not.

This would have so many applications...and not just in starships. We could replace our current AG systems with gravitites, and that could mean...well...everything would get lighter. Our tools would become easier to use. Our homes would feel less cramped.

...we could have floating cities.

...we could make the asteroid belt and the moons livable.

We could make the entire world...

...better.

Okay, okay, back on topic...we haven't really tested this yet, but our calculations suggest that any shipborne warp drive equipped with this will become vastly faster by several orders of magnitude—up to thirty times, perhaps even more, as long as the warp core dosen't melt down halfway through the journey. We've made a few car-sized ones at best, plus some of these 'ion power cells', using the stuff with a lining of ionized gallite to probably revolutionize battery technology as well. Might as well render all our current power cells obsolete, for all I know.

We're running the numbers now. Request a ship for testing purposes.

"...so how are we going to deal with the raloi issue again?" Schlossman groaned as the Cabinet session began to wear off his sanity even further. "Ugh...my brain hurts..."

"Makes me wish the whole Shanxi affair never happened sometimes," Yoshida Ayumi agreed as she leaned back in her seat out of sheer exhaustion, "We'd be in a much better position had we not decided to go against the Council and try to get ourselves a buncha alien allies, and we'd ]be a Council Associate race, and we could've let the asari keep the title and the privileges. But noooooo, the kabuki had to happen and fuck shit up..."

"Welp, we weren't having any of their shit from the start, so it was bound to happen anyways, I'd imagine," shrugged the Prime Minister. "That said, we need to address the raloi. Any ideas?"

"We wait," Yoshida said. "The raloi aren't stupid, they're a prideful culture, after all, and that is going to play straight into our hands. They are nowhere near the level of sheer stupidity required for completely buying the shit that the Citadel is selling them; they just rolled with it because their position was too weak for them to actually do anything about it even if they really, really wanted to. They will come to us, it's inevitable. The moment they realize that the Council is just one step away from being a legit asari hegemony—they probably have figured that out for themselves already—they'll be looking in other directions to see a way out of this clusterfuck. And that's where we come in; they'll take exactly one glance at our history, a second at our treaty-making spree, and another look at the Citadel's record, and bam. They'll jump on board immediately, and that's when we can start to work our magic."

"I'd imagine that the fact that we're basically their neighbors, too, plays into the picture as well," added Yurie Koyama, the Minister of Defense, "If I were an alien, I'd prefer the humans over the Council and their ilk. Sure, they're not perfect, and there are a lot of problems that they'll have to deal with, but the Council, well...their track record speaks for itself."

"So it's the 'better the devil you know than the devil you don't' type, then," commented Schlossman, "which means we can expect to see the raloi approach us with the intent of signing a treaty or something. The question is, are we gonna make an offer first or not? And how do we go about this?"

"Well, the best way would be to simply have our ambassadors on the Citadel approach the raloi ambassador and just offer them a hand, but, given the...circumstances surrounding the raloi's presence in the Citadel and their general relationship with the Citadel...I'd imagine it'll be difficult to have the ambassador approach the raloi directly, even though the raloi's position on the Citadel is the equivalent of that of the volus in the turians' eyes, which is an insult on its own right, especially given their position in this whole affair..."

Yoshida paused. "We can't rush this, especially right now. It's like trying to derail a train—you can't set up the explosives at the station-rail when the train's about to leave, the thing'll just ignore the charges and go anyway. You can't set them up at some random segment of track, because the train's momentum is more than enough to let it go unimpeded, and you certainly can't lob the charges onto the train directly, either, unless it's a field artillery piece that you're manning. What you're supposed to do, to ensure maximum chance of de-railing, is to find a spot where the track curves, and set up the explosives in a certain way so that the train would literally fly off the rails and off onto it's merry way. Or the woods. Whatever floats your boat.

"In short, the train's currently picking up momentum, and we need to find a way to throw a wrench in the wheels so we can get it to slow down a little and then we can approach it. I'm pretty sure our allies and associates can help us figure something out, and we have the tech, too, so this should not be that big of a problem. I think."

"The quarians are helping us craft a buncha new stuff, yeah?" Schlossman asked.

"Yep. It's been three months or so, and the Migrant Fleet's starting to get their first taste of human tech. I'd imagine that their people will be working on figuring out ways to use what they're getting and how to maximize the advantages they get from this, and we'll be seeing a lot of good stuff soon enough."

"We have the tech, we have the knowledge, and we have the skills, too. That's all we need. We don't need a lot, either, just the bare minimum. That's the only thing that we'll ever need, and the rest will just flow out naturally," nodded Schlossman. "That's how the Alliance works."

"That's how we work," corrected Koyama.

"Oh, right," he corrected himself, "I keep forgetting, sometimes..."

"And here, we're going against a species that is probably the most arrogant and self-absorbed assholes in the galaxy, so the idea of 'playing dirty' will never ever enter their minds, no matter how much they are told about it. They are so used to being on the top and dictating things on their own terms that it is literally impossible for them to even consider the possibility of the concept that they could end up at the bottom and be dictated instead."

"...honestly, I'd regret signing up for politics right now. Even back then, it was all casual, there wasn't any fierce political battles to contend with given how the whole chaos of the Abyssal Wars taught us the lesson of mutal brotherhood the hard way...and then we come across an alien version of the United Nations, complete with a space-America that didn't get that lesson hammered in with the brick of bitter reality, and we're forced to play politics. It's a nightmare."

"...yep, and we know who to blame now, at least. Fuck Matriach Tevos Callis, Councillor of the Asari Republics, and her Council of Matriachs. Ugh."

"The Republic of Blue Whores. How fitting."

"I'd imagine the raloi, being the bird-people that they are, are probably not very pleased with her attitude either, given how they have feathers and birds aren't generally associated with whores."

"Well, there are the dodo-birds, but that's about it."

"And they're extinct, too, I think. And I doubt the raloi are descended from dodo-birds."

"Anyways, we're getting off-track here. We wait or send a letter documenting everything about the Council's space-America-meddling-bullshit?"

"Wait. Derailing their plan right now and here poses too many risks to be viable, too much risk for too little gain. The raloi aren't stupid, they'll figure out for themselves what they need to know; they might've done that already. All we can do is to wait."

"We're playing a waiting game here, then. Wait and watch, and the moment the track hits a sharp curve in the road, we set up the explosives and send it off the tracks, hopefully into the lake or the woods or somewhere nice and out-of-the-way."

"Yep, and the moment we do, we get the raloi on board with the alliance. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces..."

"It'd be the same look the Citadel got when they saw Shanxi. Or maybe even better."

"How can I help you?" Ambassador Ehram Tolad asked as Illyasviel von Einzbern walked into his office with Higuchi Kaoru right next to her, stepping into the offices of the joint volus-elcor embassy in the Presidium Ring. The volus ambassador were present, reclining back in his pressure suit that gave him the appearance of some cute-looking plushie with a metallic and industrial flair applied, and his elcor counterpart, a rather massive and individual compared to the tiny and stout volus.

"A lot, actually," the Imperial Princess said as she settled into a chair brought forth by an aide, with Higuchi following suit. Eyeing carefully the ambassador-in-a-pressure-suit all the while.

"Allow us to start with a brief run-down here," Higuchi began. "For starters, you're a turian client race. One that happens to run their economy, at least, but that still leaves a lot to be desired...you're still essentially slaves to the Citadel. Sure, you guys have your hands in the turians' wallets, but that doesn't mean much when the Council can just chop off the hands in question. You know this, right?"

"Indeed," confirmed Tolad. "But what are you getting at?"

"Allow me to continue," said Illyasviel, "By saying that even though you share mutal defense pacts with the Citadel, they have done little in the way of honoring them. Sure, a patrol might waylay a cutter every here and then, but what about the massive amount of raids where the patrols just twiddle their thumbs and do basically nothing? By official estimates, 300,000 volus are taken captive and sold into slavery each year; the raiders get off scot-free almost every time. I'm willing to wager that it's actually closer to 800,000."

Tolad nodded. "That's a lot," he admitted, "but what does that have to do with us?"

"And you can't take things into your own hands, either. You volus have quite literally no military, and the same applies to the elcor. Your entire navy is equivalent to a turian patrol fleet at best. You can't build your way up, because the Council won't like it, and you can't just arm-twist your way through, either; they'd just chop off the arm in question. So you're stuck in a bind."

"Indeed. And that's where you humans come in, right?"

"Right," Illyasviel nodded. "We're a major power, err, two, both with extremely strong militaries capable of making the Citadel forces run for their money, but, while well-trained and equipped, are lacking in terms of live-combat experience. For a reasonable and average annual price, we can offer you some guards...ones that actually do their job, frankly, as opposed to sitting back with soda and popcorn every time a raid happens. Hired private security duty, if you will."

"And in return?"

"Your support in the Council and a decent annual price. It won't be too much and cripple you, obviously, but it'll at least be enough to make this endavour not a net-loss, economically. You get some nice guards out of this, and we're getting ourselves some free combat drills. Everyone wins. What do you say?"

Tolad sank himself into deep thought. "This offer is...extremely tempting, to be honest. I do not believe that I can offer a immedate response, as we'll have to run the numbers, though, but I think we can come up with something reasonable. And the turians won't like this as well; we wouldn't want to risk their ire."

"The Council is in a bind, too," assured Higuchi. "They're in a dead-end; they can basically do nothing save perhaps scream bloody murder. We'll come off as trying to help others in need as we come across them, helping to keep the peace, so if they try anything, they'd look bad. Like power-hungry mongrels used to pushing others around...welp, I just described them in a nutshell, didn't I?"

Tolad waved his hand around in the air, his kind's alternative to a nod of confirmation, apparently. "Thank you for your offer. In the meantime, we will discuss this matter, and will call for you should you be needed. Thank you."

"Also, a minor added offer; we have some dead territory that has plenty of potential for development, but too distant for any colonization project to be feasible," Illyasviel said as she turned to face the elcor ambassador, Calyn. "We can hand you elcor this chunk of dead space to colonize instead and be done with a hard-to-defend dead zone, while you gain a solution to your expansion problems. They're all high-gravity worlds which are perfect for you elcor to live on, too. Talk about good timing."

Calyn, the elcor ambassador in question, pondered the matter internally before offering a response. "We will take this opportunity...with caution. If what you are saying is true, then we are willing to give it a try. But what do you humans expect to gain from this, giving us worlds to colonize essentially for free?"

"Ditching some systems that we had no use for in the first place," explained Illyasviel. "We happen to have an entire strip of them in fact, all of them high-gravity worlds unsuitable for colonization save perhaps automated mining bases, but we've already got enough of them for a lifetime back at the Ruhr already, and saw no need to develop them there. It's a dead zone all right, one that we have to defend nonetheless lest we risk slavers banging down our front door. You can help us defend it, colonize the worlds and get yourselves some nice new homes to expand into, and plenty of resources, as well. Everyone wins. I can send a data file over and we can discuss the matter further."

"Very well," the elcor diplomat agreed, "we will look into the matter, and we will contact you should the need arise."

"I hope that our relationship can become fruitful in the future," Tolad said.

"We can only hope," Illyasviel smiled. "But don't worry, the Alliance takes care of their friends. And you two will definitely count among them."

Yang Wen-li snatched the ringing phone on his desk and put it to his ear while he studied the files and blueprints on his computer. "Yoshida? It's like three in the morning right now, you okay?"

"Just fine," replied Yoshida, her voice echoing through the speaker. "Sorry to call you in the middle of the night like this, but we've got another crisis."

"What, more of those damn asari bullshit? Seriously?"

"Nope, worse. I just went over some files on galactic history, and well...you probably won't like this," Yoshida's voice crackled over the phone as she rifled through the files she had on her desk. "I don't like this."

"You've got me on edge," said Yang, leaning forward on his seat, "what's wrong?"

"You know about the drell and the hanar?"

"Yellow-skinned asari with scales and walking space jellyfishes? Yeah, what about them?"

"When the drell first made contact with the hanar, the former was a dying race, confined to their homeworld due to a lack of viable space travel starving out because their homeworld had precisely fuck-all about pretty much everything needed for basic survival. Resources, namely coal, rubber, and metal, consumables, namely food and water, even the oxygen in the atmosphere. You getting my point so far?"

"Uh, yes? And?"

"Alright, so, umm...how the hell do I put this...after a lot of negotiations and chauffeuring, the hanar 'evacuated' 375,000 drell to their homeworld."

Yang raised an eyebrow. "Now that's suspicious."

"It is, indeed. I can easily quote you a reputable source about the drell population at that time. It's 11 billion."

"So, the hanar basically left the drell to die, save perhaps a select population taken to use as their hitmen," Yang connected the dots.

"Yep. But, thing is, their homeworld's still there, and to my knowledge, it's not going anywhere anytime soon. And nobody really bothered to check the place to boot..."

"...so you want me to send a prowler detachment and check the place for ourselves, eh?" Yang concluded for her. "Planets do move, that's for sure, but in quite predictable paths and manners. If the homeworld's still there, we can find it. And, well, a buncha angry drell will make the Citadel look like shit, and we can help them get there. This'll be fun."

"So you'll do it?"

"Yeah, I'll get the orders to the Fleet Command and the prowlers can set off right away. We'll probably have the results within a month, depending on the speed at which the ships will move and how much they can find. Poor saps can be underground, be extinct, or just barely hanging on like the krogans, or..."

"Or what?"

"No idea, we'll have to wait until the report comes back. I'll notify Prowler Corps Command and have any wolfpacks on standby to sail out within the hour."

"Well, good luck. And good night."

"Good night."

Yoshida ended the call, and Yang was left alone once again, and his mind began to wander. "Hmm, a buncha angry drell will play havoc on the Council's image. I can't see a single good thing that'll happen from this...this is gonna be interesting."

ONI Special Report #784567

[Report created on January 27th, 2258, by the crew of the prowler I-202, following a three-week deployment to locate the drell homeworld of Rakhana. The ship returned on the 30th, carrying the following information.]

[Status: Highly confidental]

The drell are, without a doubt, still alive and kicking on their homeworld. We've picked up signals, ranging from radio broadcasts and telecommunication activity, all the way to orbital transmissions, and there are some signs of surface construction, too. The planet is still there, as well, and has not moved significantly from its prior location.

We've detected the presence of an artificial atmosphere and global temperature maintenance system, as well as massive-scale atmospheric scrubbers, and a number of geothermal energy power plants and dams, and a massive-scale agricultural network. The drell seem to have dug their way underground, and we've seen traces of massive tunnel networks.

There are no signs of life outside the tunnels, save perhaps a few outposts, and we've detected massive amounts of pollution in the atmosphere, which seems to have been contained and regulated via a system of atmospheric scrubbers and air vents.

Given the lack of visible settlements and signs of civilization on the surface, and the traces of artificial infrastructure buried underneath, we can only conclude that the drell are no longer living on the surface, instead moving almost all of their shit underground, likely due to a combination of environmental and geopolitical reasons. Agricultural is done via hydroponic growing pods located deep underground, fueled by geo-thermal powerplants and some hydro-electrical dams at the rivers that could be dammed to generate power. The same energy also runs the atmospheric scrubbers, by the way. They're quite literally living on life-support by this point.

The planetary government, or so it seems, is centered at the city-state of Khajen, the largest settlement on the planet. It has a population of 14.6 million, and has the most visible traces of surface construction; the rest of the world is basically devoid of signs of life, save for a few small cities scattered around the globe. There are no signs of other settlements.

As for the military...they've got fuck-all. They're struggling to survive as-is, they just can't dedicate the resources needed to maintain an army anymore. The best they can have is some ICBMs left over from the hanar-contact period, which permits them some anti-sattelite capability and extremely limited anti-ship capacity (provided they chill in low orbit). Their ground equipment is roughly equal to Cold-War era equipment in terms of performance (their rifles would compare well to an old AK) and their naval/air armaments would be equivalent to the likes of the 21st-century. Forget spaceships, they've fuck-all on that department. And there's no ocean to deploy a few Arleigh Burke-DDGs, either.

I'd imagine that, should the drell become aware of the existence of the hanar's treachery, and they'll probably come knocking down their front door sooner or later, the hanar's going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

Anyways, I'll be quick here, the drell's still around, alive, and kicking. It's up to you now to decide what we should give them to kick.