CHAPTER 26: We Ain't No Cheerleaders
2185 CE
Let's talk about honesty for a second.
In a galaxy built on lies, skullduggery and deceit, the honest man is the most dangerous. My policy is simple. When speaking about the future; never say anything that's not true.
I'll leave out information as long as I don't render a statement false by doing so. I'll use different words to convey the information. I'll even occasionally intentionally mislead as part of a joke. But in general, I try to act like I'm under oath all the time. I'm not always successful, but I try.
For important things though, I won't lie. I can't.
Not physically, of course. I'm perfectly capable of lying. I've done that more than a few times over the centuries. More than I should, really. The problem is that if you're a person telling people what the future holds, you need an impeccable reputation for honesty so that people will believe you. You need to be careful even shading the truth. A reputation for being scrupulously honest but untrustworthy is just as problematic as a reputation for lying if you're trying to convince people to take your testimony about the future as gospel.
Unfortunately that means that when I don't know something, I need to explain that. Which leads to people wondering why.
If there's any risk to my knowledge of the future it's that. People all wonder just how much I know, with various theories ranging from 'very little' to 'full blown omniscience.'
That uncertainty is extremely useful to me. It protects me from people who want to kill me.
It's why I kept my mouth shut on what I knew about the future prior to meeting Shepard, with the exception of my calendar. It's why it was so important for me to get a copy of both the beacon and the cipher. I needed them to speak with authority on the Reapers when I wasn't anywhere near as knowledgeable about current events as I am right know.
Now that I'm moving, things are changing. I didn't know what the outcome of skipping Feros would be. That's why I urged Shepard to head there after the Battle of the Citadel. In retrospect, knowing what I know now, that was a really good decision. For me, I mean; Shepard hasn't really needed the cipher since then, so the jury's still out on how useful it was for Shepard.
I don't know what the outcome of getting the Quarians to call off their invasion and make peace with the Geth will be. I hope the results will be good, but I just don't know.
I also don't know what the result of telling Shepard what I did about the Crucible will be.
I've been very careful to keep the program for tracking indoctrination running every time I put on my helmet. Shepard thinks it's so I can track everyone we meet.
She's not wrong, but since we actually kill most people we meet, I don't really care whether most of them are indoctrinated or not.
No, the main target of my focus is Shepard herself.
So far she's clean, but I remember what happened to the Illusive Man at the end of the battle for Earth. I remember how the technology inside him engulfed him. How it took him over.
I also remember who rebuilt Shepard.
It's a worry. So far, it's not a worry that's borne fruit.
But if Shepard is indoctrinated? If she dies? If I have to kill her?
I had more than one reason to save Kaidan Alenko.
2185 CE
'Any advice for this one?' Shepard asked as we cruised our way back to Omega.
'Don't cheat on my granddaughter. You'll doom the galaxy.'
'Wait, what? Are you serious?'
'Deadly.'
'Anything else?' Shepard asked.
'As long as you have the mental fortitude to resist Morinth and the goddamn common sense not to trade a seasoned warrior for a sleazy serial killing sociopath, you'll be fine.'
'How is that even an option?' Shepard asked.
'They look pretty much identical. Don't worry, I've taken precautions to verify that it really is Samara you end up bringing back. If she's not, I'll shoot her.'
'You're terrible at reassuring people, Krell.' Shepard chided.
'That's because it wasn't meant to be reassuring. It was meant as a threat.' I clarified.
'Well... that's actually pretty good for that purpose. Very subtle.' Shepard complimented.
'I work on my weak points.' I admit.
'I can tell.' Shepard laughed.
'Go help Samara commit some filicide. Also, don't go drinking at Afterlife. The Batarian bartender in the lower half of the club there, I forget his name, he poisons all the drinks he serves to Humans. You can probably survive that, but it's better to not take the chance.'
'Weird advice.' Shepard comments.
'It's relevant.' I assured her.
'If you say so.'
'You should go.' I decide.
2185 CE
'So what's your favorite Human military story then?' Joker asked after I bragged possibly one too many times about how Krogan-like Humans were.
Grunt was sitting next to us, his eyes opened wide with a deep passion for learning.
'Horatius at the Bridge.' I replied.
'I don't know that one? Is it British?' Joker prompted.
'Not even close. Roman. Early Roman. As in 600 years before I was born, early.' I replied.
'Damn! An event in Human history you couldn't possibly have influenced in advance!' Joker quipped.
'That's ridiculous. I haven't influenced Human history at all. My influence on Humans started with First Contact. Anything else is a conspiracy theory.' I protested.
'Aren't you juggling like, twenty different conspiracies as we speak?' Joker raised an eyebrow.
'Nonsense. It's fifteen at most.' I joked back.
'What is the story of Horatius at the bridge?' Grunt asked, impatiently.
'The story is a simple one. A single battle at a bridge. Lars Porsena, an Etruscan, was attacking Rome with an army. What's the line? 'And now hath every city sent up her tale of men; The foot are fourscore thousand, The horse are thousands ten.' So, an army of about ninety thousand men. They fought on a plain outside the city of Rome to the west, across the river Tiber, these ninety thousand Etruscans and the Roman army. There was only one bridge across the Tiber in the area, the Pons Sublicius. The Roman army needed to retreat and hold the bridge against the Etruscans or they would sack Rome immediately. If they could hold the bridge long enough to destroy it, then they could force Lars Porsena into a protracted siege instead and perhaps tire his army out.' I set the scene.
'Then out spake brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate: 'To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his gods? Haul down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand may well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, and keep the bridge with me?' I recited.
'Is that a poem? One of yours?' Joker asked.
'It's a poem, but not mine. It's Horatius, by Thomas Babington Macaulay.' I explained.
'What happened to Horatius?' Grunt prompted us both back on track.
'Then out spake Spurius Lartius; a Ramnian proud was he: 'Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, and keep the bridge with thee.' And out spake strong Herminius; of Titian blood was he: 'I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge with thee.' 'Horatius,' quoth the Consul, 'As thou sayest, so let it be.' And straight against that great array forth went the dauntless three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel spared neither land nor gold, nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, in the brave days of old.' I continued.
'Horatius Cocles, Spurius Lartius, and Titus Herminius fought Etruscan after Etruscan, slaying all that fell within their reach as their fellow soldiers and the Roman politicians all cut the bridge out from underneath them. Many times the Etruscans advanced and many times they fell, their broken bodies vanishing into the frothing Tiber below.' I explained.
'But meanwhile axe and lever have manfully been plied; and now the bridge hangs tottering above the boiling tide. 'Come back, come back, Horatius!' Loud cried the Fathers all. 'Back, Lartius! Back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!' Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back: And, as they passed, beneath their feet they felt the timbers crack. But when they turned their faces, and on the farther shore saw brave Horatius stand alone, they would have crossed once more.' I recited.
'Alone stood brave Horatius, but constant still in mind; thrice thirty thousand foes before, and the broad flood behind. 'Oh, Tiber! Father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, a Roman's life, a Roman's arms, take thou in charge this day!' So he spake, and speaking sheathed the good sword by his side, and with his harness on his back, plunged headlong in the tide. No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either bank; but friends and foes in dumb surprise, with parted lips and straining eyes, stood gazing where he sank; and when above the surges, they saw his crest appear, all Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, and even the ranks of Tuscany could scarce forbear to cheer.' I finished.
'Horatius threw himself into the raging river and swam, injured, and in full armor, all the way to the opposite shore as the Etruscans pelted him with arrows, sling bullets and spears. He and his two companions defeated an army, they overcame impossible odds, together, and they all got home safe. That's why it's my favorite Human military story, Joker. Because they won, and they didn't have to actually sacrifice anyone to do it.'
'Yeah. I can see why you'd prefer that to the charge of the light brigade.' Joker nodded.
He stopped, as if realizing something. 'Wait, is that why Shepard only ever takes two of you on missions? She's a huge fan of Horatius?'
'You'd have to ask her that.' I admitted.
'It was a good story, but you know what would have made it a better story? If Horatius had used a ship.' Grunt decided.
I looked at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. The whole point of the story was that there was no other way across! That Horatius had to swim desperately across facing against impossible odds in order to triumph. If he'd had a ship, the story would have been at least fifty times worse.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't figure out if Grunt was serious or not.
Damn it, Okeer! You couldn't program him with normal emotional tells? Even in death your academic laziness torments me!
'Well, next time you have to defend a point against impossible odds; remember to bring your ship.' I decided.
'I will.' Grunt nodded, firmly.
2185 CE
'In the jungle, the mighty Jungle the lion sleeps tonight.' I say to Samara when I greet her.
'Oooh Wee. oooh Weee Ooooh Hoo. The lion sleeps tonight.' She replies with the very specific call phrase in the dullest most unsinging-like voice possible.
'What.' Shepard asks, not quite sure what happened.
'A call and response code phrase. Krell was nervous that Morinth might get the better of us.' Samara explains.
Joker, ever close to the airlock in his seat in the cockpit swivels around to look at us.
'Anyone ever tell you you have weird taste in music, Krell?' he asks.
'Nope. No one has ever survived telling me I have weird taste in music.' I reassure Joker.
'Noted. I just wanted to tell you that your taste in music is amazing and that it's totally exceptional and wonderful.' Joker praised me.
'Glad to hear it. You know there's a musical reboot of Blade Runner? I've heard good things about it. You're coming with us to watch it.'
'I need to steer the ship!'
'EDI can steer the Ship. You need to find out if 'Do Androids Sing of Electric Sheep' is as good an adaptation of the Phillip K. Dick novel as I've heard it is.'
'This is because I called you out on your music taste, isn't it?' Joker realized.
'Of course not! After all, you definitely didn't do that, did you?'
I pause for dramatic effect before cheerfully finishing.
'This is because we both share the same taste in music!'
'Pilot Moreau prefers the band Varrencage.' EDI commented.
'In that case, think of this as an intervention instead!' I declared cheerfully and walked away.
'One of these days I'm finally going to understand that guy.' Joker complained to Shepard.
'You're two thousand years too young for that, you whippersnapper!' I shot back over my shoulder as I entered the CIC.
'How did he hear me? I was whispering!'
'Krogan have redundant eardrums!' I replied.
'That only raises more questions!' Joker shouted back.
I smiled as I walked away.
2185 CE
I never actually got around to watching the original Blade Runner in this life. Or reading the novel for that matter. The musical was actually really really bad. The songs were forgettable. The choreography was, if you'll pardon the pun, 'robotic.' But none of that was why I forced Jeff to sit through it, so that's all okay.
The important part, the moral and the idea that synthetic beings can be identical to humans, that was all preserved perfectly by the really exceptionally bad adaptation.
Shepard looked at me.
'Who told you good things about this, and have you shot them yet?'
'Francis Kitt.' I admitted.
'The Elcor Hamlet guy?' Joker goggled.
'The same.' I nodded.
'And you trusted his advice?' Shepard stared at me.
'I did not.'
'So why did we see this?' Shepard asked.
'Joker needed to be taught a lesson.' I explained.
'I get it. I'll never mess with you again.' Joker apologized.
'That's not the lesson you needed to learn.' I smile and make my exit.
'Wait, what? What's the lesson then? Krell? Krell! What's the lesson?'
My smile only grew wider as I made it to the elevator.
Joker really was fun to mess with.
2185 CE
If you ask a Salarian, or a Turian, or an Asari, they all tell you that the Salarians 'uplifted' the Krogan. It's a curious choice of words, uplifted. The word has a sort of colonialist meaning, doesn't it? It implies that you made the person you're uplifting better in some way. That you made them smarter, that you brought them out of savagery and barbarism.
That's not how I remember it.
The Salarians didn't come to Tuchanka to help us; the Salarians came to Tuchanka to help themselves.
I was born on a Tuchanka that was a thermonuclear wasteland. We had bombed the shit out of each other a number of years prior. Not long enough ago for the planet to recover, but long enough ago to wipe out most of our culture and history. We were already clans back then, but no one in Clan Nakmor has ever given me a satisfactory answer as to why we were Clan Nakmor and not a different clan. No one could answer why we ended up a Clan, or what happened to the ancient Krogans beyond 'thermonuclear war.'
The Salarians came to each clan individually, but they didn't come in peace; they came with tidings of war.
They told us that the Krogan were the greatest warriors in the Galaxy, that only the Krogan could defeat the most terrifying foe in the known universe.
They came with recruiting stations. They set up a military command, with them giving all the intel of course.
The 'United Krogan' that the Salarians so mourn? It was a military junta which started the Rachni wars by conquering Tuchanka; with Salarian help to make sure 'minimal lives' were lost.
Krogan were promised glory, and a terraformed Tuchanka that we would be able to rebuild upon.
The Salarians built The Shroud, so I guess I can't call them completely faithless, but that's as far as the idea of a 'rebuilt Tuchanka' ever went.
In exchange for our help we'd be paid, be made members of the Galactic community, and have new worlds to live on. Better worlds than Tuchanka where the Krogan could flourish and thrive.
Funny how the Salarians considered the lack of deadly megafauna a selling point back then.
Is it any wonder that the Krogan sought glory in combat? Is it any wonder that we settled new worlds?
People forget how the Krogan Rebellions started, but I was there when Lusia fell. The Krogan did not fire the first shots, we Krogan settled worlds as our population expanded, just as the Salarians and Asari had promised for our reward. Our crime such as it was, was settling Lusia; settling too close to the Asari for their comfort.
You can still see the cracks where the the truth shines through. The Council says the Rebellions started at Lusia, where they cut off Krogan supply lines and began the war with decapitating strikes. They don't mention what act exactly started the war before that, they only mention that we started it.
Our crime was settling in known space, the Athena Nebula. The planet wasn't an Asari colony until the Asari decided that they wanted us gone. They tied us up in hearings for decades, endless bureaucracy in an attempt to provoke a response until they finally got one.
There are millions of worlds in the galaxy. The Asari started the rebellions because they decided we shouldn't have one too close to them.
For this hubris, for believing our comrades at war when they promised us glory and rewards, we were sterilized. We were sterilized for wanting to live next to our new neighbors.
If you ask a Salarian, or a Turian, or an Asari, they all tell you that the Salarians 'uplifted' the Krogan.
I've never agreed with that idea.
I've never felt all that 'uplifted.'
Author's Notes:
I don't know if anyone wants to read the full poem Horatius, but there it is if you do. He also Pops up in Plutarch's Life of Poplicola, and Livy's Ab Urbe Condita Book 2. There are a fair amount of stories of small forces stopping armies. And a lot of stories of single persons like Zhuge Liang stopping entire armies. As far as I'm aware, Horatius is the only person to stop an Army with two friends as backup.
The title song comes from the Lin Manuel Miranda musical 'Bring It On' which is absolutely fantastic, by the way. Amazing choreography. It also has a main singer and her two friends bragging about just how awesome they are in a very sort of martial tone. I felt it had a nice juxtaposition with both the Morinth mission and the Horatius story.
And before people complain about the existence of English Poetry in Mass Effect, Poetry's been in Mass Effect since the first game (thanks Ashley!); military-themed English poetry especially.
