It gave you no small amount of frustration to mull over your suspicions of what sinister dealings the man was likely involved in, considering the gall he exhibited in his speeches.

You shake your head. You could think of several better ways how to spend your time. Even still, you bring up your omnitool and type down a message.

You keep watching the show for a few more minutes before you decide that your time is better spent recuperating, although just as you’re about to get up, freeing up more room for Kris and Lea sitting at either side of you, the question you submitted actually makes it to the screen.

“One of our viewers, signed as “HF” - yes, we are having fun, thank you very much - is posing following question to the three of you:” the anchor says. “‘The people are filled with hope after the victory over the Reapers. Even those who lost all, from loved ones to their homes, are offering what little they have left for the better future. I’m seeing strangers in refugee camps helping each other, working without hope for recompense aside from smile and kind word, barkeeps offering drinks for stories and places of worship being erected by volunteers. That is a tremendous amount of goodwill and political capital. How do you intend to ensure that this is not squandered, and that the benefits of recovery are spread equitably across the society?’”

Khalisah then turns to the League candidate.

“Miss King, that seems like question from someone interested in your vision. How would you reply to them?”

“Thank you for this question, dear viewer. It is as you say, and I’m painfully aware of the responsibility any civilian governing body will have to shoulder. To actually reply, though,” the woman says and the anchor makes an emphatic nod, indicating that she was about to ask for that, “on the societal plane, the League has plans for setting up platform for public debate on various subjects to ensure all voices are heard. On the side of economics we’d like to invest time and effort into communal services offered in blue zones until the green ones develop to sufficient level. We seek to solidify the hopes of the people into a foundation of trust and cooperation for the galactic society to embrace and build upon. In order to reach such levels of trust we need to keep the governing authority transparent, approachable and forthright in its dealings. And that is our - and mine - pledge.”

“I see. So nothing we wouldn’t have heard from past politicians.” Khalisah sneers.

“I’ll let everyone judge my earnestness compared to those.” King nods confidently.

“Rest assured that they will. Now, what about you, mister Johnson? How do you intend to ensure that rising tide lifts all the boats?”

“By ensuring that every citizen has freedom to seize their fate with their own two hands and direct it as they deem fit on basis of their own ability. I do not offer a coddling mother hen. I offer a future of opportunity where no force, be it ancient machines of war or indoctrinated minions of a long dead ideology, could threaten Man’s freedom to make his choice.” The man answers with a smug grin never leaving his face.

“As long as the choice is to buy at your company store.” Khalisah points out. “As is the case for inhabitants of Klondike green zones after the recent accident in the Duckburg Mall.”

There is a flash of annoyance that mars the mogul’s expression just for an instant - you only notice in because if your own suspicions, and still find yourself questioning if your mind doesn’t merely play tricks on you. However, judging by a slightly more marked smug smile on anchor’s lips, she too picked up the response. Johnson composers himself quickly, though.

“It was a tragic coincidence and my crews stood immediately prepared to offer assistance. It hardly comes as surprise, though, that many structures, despite having endured the Reaper onslaught seemingly intact, bear structural damage that render them at risk.”

“At least it is good to see you care enough that you are keeping yourself informed of such incidents as they happen.” The anchor says, once again causing Johnson’s smile to twitch ever so slightly. “Now, What about you, commodore? How does the Old Guard intend to secure everyone’s future?”

“We do not wish to reinvent the wheel or usher in any sort of revolution. We offer what most of us have been growing up in and familiar with - restoration and reconstruction. We will mend broken bridges, rebuild collapsed structures and replant burned crops. And the navy will stand watch while this happens. I believe there is no better way to cement the trust we have in each other than by hard work of men and women of great personal integrity. And I can attest that the Old Guard has plenty of those.”

“So you are saying we don’t need to fear repeat of the Citadel coup which was assisted in significant measure by Alliance turncoats.”

The officer frowns and glares at the reporter. You can see him tense as he clenches his fist and Khalisah takes a step back... but the moment passes and he relaxes slightly once more. “Those,” He says coldly. “Have been dealt with.”

“I’m not sure if our viewers found that reassuring, but I believe we heard enough of your replies to get a picture. Very well then, let us have a short break before we resume with the next point of our debate. Thank you all for being with us so far. This is Khalisah al-Jilani from the Roman Colosseum.”

With that the picture on vidwall gave once more way to the broken skyline.

>you’ve heard enough. Go back to taking your beauty nap so you’re fresh for your appointment with your Spectre friend. (Timeskip)
>talk to your crew about something (specify)
>keep watching the debate (submit another question?)
>other

>>3785113
>you’ve heard enough. Go back to taking your beauty nap so you’re fresh for your appointment with your Spectre friend. (Timeskip)

>>3785113
No.3785113
>you’ve heard enough. Go back to taking your beauty nap so you’re fresh for your appointment with your Spectre friend. (Timeskip)
Politics are tough

>>3785113

>talk to your crew about something (specify)
Remind me of looking up that mall accident later, maybe we have something on our data from the ship company.

I think I've been lied to enough for a day, see you later.

And we

>you’ve heard enough. Go back to taking your beauty nap so you’re fresh for your appointment with your Spectre friend. (Timeskip)


Ps: glad to see you back, I almost missed this

"I think I've heard enough for one sitting." You claim, your mind made up as you rise from your seat and head out, Lea and Kris wasting no time in partitioning the freed up space. "Gonna go finish my nap."

"Suit yourself. I think I'll stay and watch some more, I wonder..." He trails off.

"Good night, cap!" Lea says.

"I'll commit remainder of the show to my memory for analysis and future reference." Eve informs.

"Glad to have you all." You smile and head out of the passenger suite and back towards your sleep pod. Before long the darkness, now thankfully devoid of ominous presences, envelops you once more in its embrace...
You awaken refreshed, well rested and with a barely perceptible feeling in your gut that tells you Chariot has landed. The difference between shipboard artificial gravity was too small to be noticeable when you're otherwise aware of the transition, but when you wake up into the different circumstance, that's something else.

Or maybe it's just an illusion caused by ship's engines being silent.

Be that as it may, you had business to attend to and so far you haven't even made sure of your whereabouts. You freshen up in the sonic shower and grab a snack from the dispenser for a breakfast. You're just about done munching on it as Kris walks in.

"Ford." He greets you.

"Kris." You nod back.

"We've touched down at the place you picked earlier. Asari blue zone. Heh."

"Ah, yes. The Rouen outpost, right?" You recall.

"Sounds right."

You quietly clean up the table after yourself before asking:

"Anything caught your attention in that debate?"

"Nothing I wouldn't expect. Sometimes I'd actually like to be proven wrong."

You cock your eyebrows at that.

"Things got a bit more exciting when someone asked about my peoples' shenanigans down in the wild. It was interesting to watch that Alexander guy flip from every man to himself to calling for stronger response from the military, but that's small comfort in face of what can yet come down."

Unsure what to reply that wouldn't feel like a hollow platitude you just nod.

"By the way, traffic control obviously knows we're here, meaning so will our spook friend. You might want to not keep her waiting."

"I've no intention of that." You reply and bring up your omnitool to send Libella a brief message, notifying her of your readiness to meet up. Then, looking up from the tool you ask "Where's Le-"

You're interrupted by a beep of your comlink.

"Damn, that was fast. You made a good impression on her alright." Kris comments with a grin. You wave him off and take the call.

"Doctor Ford! I didn't expect you to stop by so soon. A pleasant surprise, to be sure."

"Hello, miss Tefar, I-"

"And a perfect opportunity for me to visit the humanity's homeworld with a native guide, if you'll forgive my imposing on you."

"Well, I-"

"Please, meet me at the checkpoint Nallita. Would fifteen minutes be enough for you?"

You're tempted to ask what the hurry is, but this conversational pattern seems uncharacteristical enough for you to suspect that it's justified.

"Certainly, I'll be there."

"Splendid. I'll be looking forward to it."

"Huh." Kris looks you in the eye. Having only heard your side of the conversation he caught enough to wipe the smirk off his face. "You want us to go with? At a discreet distance, perhaps?

>Yes, some company could be called for. Someone will go with you (Kris, Lea, Eve?)
>Yes, better safe than sorry. Someone will follow inoccuously behind (Kris, Lea, Eve?)
>No need, someone should stay on the ship, though
>No need, this place is safe enough. Even if something sinister was afoot, this place is too exposed to public to risk an incident. Shore leave for everyone.
>Other/combination

>>3787381
>>Yes, better safe than sorry. Someone will follow innocuously behind (Kris, Lea, Eve?)

Tell Eve to tail us
Tell Kris to look into that krogan situation, we may have to step into that before it becomes a death trap
ask Lea to take care of the ship and refuel and restock it, all of them on radio in case something happens or we need to communicate

>>3787400
oh, and see if Lea can find anything on the listings about installing a weapon sistem in the Chariot, things are getting dicey

>>3787402
>>3787400
Supporting

“Yeah, I think some cautionary measures are in order. Where’s Le-“

“Morning, cap.” Voice comes from behind you, making you jump a bit before you turn around and see the young Quarian stretching herself sleepily. It seems she only just got out of her own pod.

“Ah, good morning, Lea. I’d like you to hold down the fort while I’m gone. Check what supplies the outpost has that it’s willing to share and maybe take a look at available ship upgrades, too.”

“You got it, cap. Going on a date, hm?”

“I suspect this will be one of these occasions when seeing some action will not be a pleasant thing.” You shake your head. “Which is why I’d like -“ you access the intercom. “ -Eve, are you hearing us?”

“Always.” Comes the response.

“Very funny. Suit up, I want you to shadow me discreetly in case something goes down.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Excellent. Kris...” You turn to your Krogan friend. “I’d like you to look further into that incident in Africa. If there’s something we can do, I want to give it our best shot.”

Kris nods slowly. “I’ll see what I can learn.”

“Take the skycar.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not leaving you to start another mess here. Get back from your date, then we can fly together.”

>”All right, come with me, then. Libella knows that we work together and you’d stand out as a sore thumb by yourself.”
>”All right, give me a head start and then have some ‘shore leave’, if you catch my drift.”
>”All right, stay with Lea then. I or Eve will call if there’s trouble.”
>”I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine, and you’re going to get better feel for the situation if you head out there sooner rather than later.”
>other

>>3789087

>”All right, give me a head start and then have some ‘shore leave’, if you catch my drift.”

>>3789087
>>”All right, give me a head start and then have some ‘shore leave’, if you catch my drift.”

>>3789087

>>”All right, give me a head start and then have some ‘shore leave’, if you catch my drift.”

”All right,” you say with a smile. “Give me a head start and then have some ‘shore leave’, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah. Just give a call when you’re in trouble.”

“If. The wird You’re supposed to be using is ‘if’.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Henri.”

With another, amused this time, shake if your head you give acknowledging nods to your two crew mates and head out towards the airlock, stopping by the storage locker to put something presentable on. You contemplate taking your kit, but ultimately decide that too much hardware could potentially attract more trouble than it would prevent and settle for having just your omnitool and the personal shield generator.

As the airlock hatch slides open you have to shield your eyes from the intense glare of a clear, sunny morning. This time without luxury of a phototropic visor it takes you a while to acclimatize to the light. When you do step out, you are greeted by a sight you did not quite expect to see on Earth’s surface quite yet - several Asari spires loomed above a compound of decently sized structures, which you presumed to be the heart of this outpost.

In contrast to the Turian or Alliance one you’ve seen earlier that made ample use of spartan prefab cells or hastily patched up pre-existing structures, respectively, Asari buildings looked like they were built to stay, and with intention to look good doing so. They also gleamed in radiant white of the sunlit limestone, making prolonged examination quite taxing. You let your gaze wander to rest of the skyline as you walk towards edge of the landing pad currently hosting the Chariot and see more familiar sight of mixture of ruins, hills with scorch marks, peppered with occasional restored structure or a Reaper wreckage.

There were distinctions here as well. It seemed there was a touch more of the restored buildings here, in particular the characteristic shape of a cathedral stood out, as if untouched by the fighting. Could it be that the Reapers missed the sacred landmark as they passed through the region? Or was the damage only so minor that some volunteers managed to already restore it?

You put the question aside as you approach a smaller, more mundane looking (although still quite aesthetically sculpted) structure at the edge of the landing pad which you correctly assess to be a watchhouse. Inside you spot a youthful Asari, leaned back in her chair and lazily watching your approach.

“Heya.” She says as you pass from shouting into a talking range. “Ford, right?”

“Hello.” You reply. “Yes, that’s me. I’ve been told to head to checkpoint Nallita. Could I ask you for directions?”

“Sure. Through this gate, around the mess hall - the large, bulbous structure that smells like Turian gymnasium - and then first stocky building to your right. You can’t miss it anyway.”

“Thank you.” You say with a nod and make your way in the indicated direction. As soon as you clear the nearest building a structure emerges before you that you take for the mess hall. It doesn’t actually smell that bad and you’d probably be tempted to check out what it has to offer, but you didn’t have much time left if you wanted to be punctual. You swiftly stride around it and the guards’s last remark is explained - most of the road ahead of you is blocked by construction. You feel the eezo crack and ebb through your limited biotic sense, and you can see it, too: a group of Asari construction workers is hard at work erecting a new building for the compound. You slow down your walk to get a better look on the uncanny scene. A few of the Asari have tool belts over their civilian coveralls, but most of the feminine figures are counting enough to use their natural Biotics to haul the massive limestone blocks from nearby flatbeds onto the growing construction. Others yet are mulling about the structure itself, ensuring everything is where it’s meant to be and removing smaller deformities and impurities with narrow pulses of vibrating dark energy.

Only narrowly you avoid tripping over an unevenness in the yet unpaved surface, something one of the Asari with toolbelts notices.

“Look wha you see, flyboy?”

You grin at that. “I certainly do. Hard for me to not be awed by the technique.”

“That so? I’m sure there’s more techniques I can show y-“

“Hey, Salira, less harassment, more work. Matriarch will flay us if we have any more delays.” A other Asari shouts.

“Yeah, Yeah. See you around, flyboy.”

On that note you turn back to your goal and pick up the pace again. And as you approach the checkpoint, a relatively robust structure set at a gate out of the Asari compound, the tone sours with each step that more troubling sounds resolve themselves ahead of you.

“Home wreckers begone!”

“Blue poon into the sun!”

“Space succubi, scram from my hubby!”

Admittedly it’s not a lot of voices, but hearing this sort of thing so soon after the Reapers’ fall still tugged at your sensibilities.

“Halt! Identify yourself!”

An Asari in a combat suit emerged from the guardhouse to challenge you. She was taller than you and armed with a rifle of a make you don’t immediately recognize despite having come across most of the arsenal galactic weapon makers have come up with - then you realize it’s a Goopnik, a crowd control weapon used by civilian security.

“I’m Henri Ford, special consultant for Citadel Institute of Xenoarchaeology.” You comply, grateful for a chance to put your mind onto a more pleasant track.

“Oh.” She says, her posture relaxing noticeably. “You’re that human friend of Libella. She’ll be around soon.” She pauses for a while, looking sideways. “I’m Tisanna. Sorry about that reception, this droning is beginning to get to me.”

You frown. Notion of a guard snapping at some protesters was not a pleasant one, regardless of how rubbish their cause might’ve been.
“Why don’t you ask for a different posting?”

“I did. We’re on rotation here. But it seems, so are they. Don’t worry, though, I’m not gonna start taking pot shots with the slime gun just because they’re saying mean words.”

“What’s this about, anyway?” You ask, looking through the transparent sections of the guardhouse to make our group of several people mulling around with signposts and repeating their slogans.

“Damned if I know. I guess some of locals prefer our company to their own and not everyone likes it? I don’t exactly follow the news. Anyway, I better get back to work or sergeant will have my ass. Give me a wave if you want to pass through the gate.”

“Thank you.” You nod at her as she withdraws back into the building. Checking your tool you learn that you’re on time. Something must’ve held the Spectre up. Still, it was too early to worry.

“Tentacle hair, get off our earth!”

...at least on that issue.

>go confront the protesters. This will not stand.
>try to reason with the protesters. Perhaps they have an underlying issue that can be addressed.
>just wait patiently and ignore the racket. Any attempt to debate bears risk of only making matters worse.
>call someone over comlink
>other

>>3789719
>Look wha you see
Like what you see

>>3789727
>try to reason with the protesters. Perhaps they have an underlying issue that can be addressed.

trying to understand what's the matter here, they do realized the blue butts here just helped save our planet from the reapers right?

also, Asari construction workers harass passerbys too, kek

>>3789727
>just wait patiently and ignore the racket. Any attempt to debate bears risk of only making matters worse.

>>3789727

>try to reason with the protesters. Perhaps they have an underlying issue that can be addressed.

Please, roll some 1d100s to reason with the emotionally invested and/or paid shills

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>3791592
oh no
the shills!

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>3791592
Let's see what's the problem

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>3791592

I was worried someone would roll a 1 and cause a diplomatic incident lol

Relatively narrow pass

After weighing your options for a while your conscience gets the better of you and you set out through the gate. You give Tisanna a wave and she opens the way for you, although in the moment she realizes you’re heading towards the protestor she gives you a worried look. You give her a reassuring smile and turn to approach the group.

“Excusez-moi!” You gamble, hoping your command of the ancestral tongue is up to the task. “Puis-je avoir votre attention, s'il vous plaît?” apologies to any frog anon for desecrating their language with google translate

It worked. Majority of the group put their shouting on hold, some of them maybe secretly grateful for a chance to catch their breath. Almost all of them were now watching you, except for one, who continued to drone for a few more seconds before he noticed others have stopped. Finally, all the eyes were on you.

“Thank you, friends.” You continue in French. “May I ask you, what is the reason for this event?”

“We’re here because the damn blue strumpets are destroying our families with their sorcery!” A middle aged woman spits. “Didn’t you know they need to feed on souls of others to sustain their powers?”

“That’s right! They abduct young people off the streets and suck them dry!” Another, a slightly overweight young man, adds in.

“That’s a serious accusation.” You say. “But Alliance has contact with Asari for decades now. How did they keep such heinous secret that long?”

“That was up on the Citadel and in Council Space, where they have all the power. What they can’t cover up in skullduggery they would have our own corrupt officials gloss over!” The young man says with conviction.

“They would require truly supernatural powers to suppress all independent investigative journalists and keep the evidence from leaking through encrypted extranet message boards.” You offer.

“Uh... well, there’s a lot of disinformation going around...”

“But, for the sake of argument, let’s assume they have such powers to control minds... why wouldn’t they use them on you who have learned and reveal the truth? Especially, if they have recently fed and have strength to spare?”

“Well, they... maybe we have too strong will to be dominated!” He pauses for a while. “Uhm. Or maybe they want us to... could we be the controlled opposition?”

“No!” Another voice speaks up, the one who was last to stop droning, a lanky man with mirror shades holding a signpost inscribed with ‘Terra for Terrans!’ in comic sans. “Pierre, no fear. You are strong. He just came out. He’s with them.”

“He’s making some points though. Are Turians and Salarians really so stupid to not have noticed this sort of thing earlier?” A young woman with bloodshot eyes asks.

The man stares at her for a second or two, the turns at you. “Not stupid. Pragmatic. Corrupt. Like Alliance.”

“Does this corruption encompass the worlds in Terminus regions as well? What about Batarian Hegemony? Both of them could stand to gain if Council fell apart, and there are countless worlds where Asari have no presence whatsoever.”

The group was openly exchanging glances filled with doubt by now. This was the opening-

“Politics. Chaos benefits none. Asari control Terminus hub, Omega. Batarian dependent on Council economy.”

Once again with the delay. Was this a peculiar speech pattern, or...

>I can come from great distance
>or I can live right next door
>but when I tell you my name
>then I am not anymore

>>3792087
A stranger

>>3792135
agreed

maybe secret too

Something clicks and now it’s your turn to make a pause, as if considering the man’s argument. In truth you have to put your mind back on track, emboldened by realization that your counterpart will not change his mind - if he even made any up for himself on the topic, rather than simply carrying out an assignment.

“Both of your counterpoints are flawed and superficial. Terminus systems are not organized enough to facilitate reliable exchange of information, much less control over it sophisticated enough to a lid a particular rumor from gaining traction. Furthermore, many of the fragmented settlements are completely devoid of any Asari influence, Terminus or Citadel. And to top it off, the Asari are far from only entity vying for control in the wild space, of wildly differing makeup, ambitions and principles. They would all have to be in agreement, and anyone familiar with Terminus knows that these tend to be very short lived there. As for the Batarians, their economy was actually suffering heavily under Council embargoes, essentially forced into Autarky. What little wealth they could skim off the Citadel via smuggling and pirate raids would be more than offset by considerably stronger position in trade - or warfare - with individual factions and colonies if the Council fell apart and its members had to struggle among themselves... more so than they already have, that is.”

You give yourself a breather after this, but only a brief one. Having specifically done your best to overwhelm whatever translation service he was using you don’t want to allow the stranger to regain any momentum.

“I’ll be frank with you. I understand the wariness before the unknown - I have to have a good bit of my own as a xenoarcheologist - but when it comes to accusing an entire species, many of them having laid down their lives to help us retake our homeworld, one needs to be careful and build their opinion on facts and reason rather than unlikely speculations and gossip.” You look over the gathered group. There really wasn’t much of them, you counted a dozen, though aside from the few carrying signs you weren’t sure how many were just passing by and came or left for the spectacle.

“I assume some of yours have lost your loved ones?”

Some of the present remain impassive, a few nod, a few, including the woman who spoke out in your support, avert their gazes.

“If so, I would implore you to give the authorities a chance to find out the truth. This time is new for all of us, and on my part I’d not want it to be marred by rightful wrath that turns out to be misguided.” You say, looking straight into a pair of mirror shades as you finish.

For a moment the words just sink in. And, you inwardly smile smugly, pass through a translation VI for benefit of the lanky stranger. Before he speaks, some of the protesters begin to drift away from the group. Some of them keep going even after he does.

“Many platitudes, stranger. I see you. You are a traitor to humanity, prefer to lay with aliens. We fought and survived here. Where were you when Man bled on earth? Consorting with space demons in your ship?”

You grimace. It was time to end this.

“I was in London.” You say in English. And, before he realizes this, you press. “And speaking of aliens, where are you from, friend?” You look over others. “Does anyone know this man?”

“Uh, Yeah, He was in the mess hall, calling for concerned citizens.” Pierre says.

“And did you see him around before? Anyone?”

Others exchange glances, shrug and shake their heads.

“He doesn’t even speak the language. Where did he come from and why did he prey on your feelings?”

You don’t expect a reply except for shuffling of feet or some angry indignation and are not disappointed. More protesters scatter.

“I... I need to think some more on what happened.” The woman turns away and leaves, pushing past you and the tall man. You think you spot a sparkle of tears on her cheek as she goes.

The tall man’s face on the other hand is now warped in anger. He opens his mouth to respond in attempt to salvage the situation, but Pierre finishes him for you.

“Fuck! We’ve been herded like sheeple! Who do you... nevermind, you’ll just bullshit more. Batarians? No, too distant and stupid. Omega? Perhaps... or maybe... yeah, I bet the Volus did it. Gotta spread the word.”

The picket is over. With the most adamant protesters gone and the organizer stripped of credibility the others make quietly scarce, often nonchalantly walking away as if they were just resuming their errand, only having found themselves here by accident.

“Should’ve burned with it.” The man in the mirror shades growls at you before activating his omnitool and breaking his signpost down in a whirl of dark energy into whatever trace amounts of Omnigel he could’ve recovered from it. Then, without another word, he activates a tactical cloak and vanishes in a shimmer of air.

“Impressive work.”

You turn around and immediately spot Libella. The Asari Spectre was smiling cordially at you but your gaze didn’t linger at her smile. She was dressed in a light dress that flowed over her form just enough to flatter her combat honed figure and emphasize elegance of her movements without restricting her freedom or denying her places to hide a holdout weapon.

You were glad she didn’t show herself sooner, as it would make your questioning of the space seductress conspiracy a bit more difficult.

“Miss Tefar. It’s good to see you again.”

“And you too, Doctor Ford.” She says. “Especially given circumstances. You’ve won us some valuable intel. Though I hope you appreciate how risky your intervention was. It could’ve easily turned... counterproductive.”

“I’m aware. All’s well that ends well, though.”

“I’m afraid this is far from the end. But we can discuss this in a more suitable setting, can’t we?”

“Indeed. What did you have in mind?”

“Actually, I have several alternatives that might be viable.”

>Green Zone restaurant run by Libella’s contact. Should be secure inside. Trip through the prettier part of Rouen green zone.
>Blue Zone seedy pub. Offers more anonymity, for better or worse.
>A picnic in the red zone. No witnesses. You’re going back to ship and taking your jet pack and rifle.
>make a counter-suggestion.

>>3792135
Well done, sir, it was indeed a stranger

>>3794066

>Blue Zone seedy pub. Offers more anonymity, for better or worse.

I guess not being seen is the name of the game

>>3794066
>>Blue Zone seedy pub. Offers more anonymity, for better or worse.

>>3794066
>Blue Zone seedy pub. Offers more anonymity, for better or worse.

That guy was probably cerberus or some political party trying to stir up anti alien sentiment
Make sure to let our 2 tails know we may have attracted some unwanted attention

>>3794066
>>Blue Zone seedy pub. Offers more anonymity, for better or worse.

After a while spent trading opinions the two of you quickly settle that the River Foam, a fine establishment nestled snugly between the river Seine and the border between red and blue zones.

Fine for your needs and purposes, that is.

“Would you give me a moment, though. I seem to be slightly overdressed.” Libella says and withdraws onto the gatehouse. You briefly wonder if she’s going to trade clothes with one of the guards, but as she appears scant minute later you recognize that the slightly baggy utilitarian overall she’s now wearing has the same color scheme as her previous dress. That doesn’t last long, though, as after a few seconds you realize, that hues are shifting slightly even as you watch, until they matched those of the construction workers. It would seem she’s wearing some sort of chameleon suit.

“Neat.” You comment.

“And useful. Let’s go.” She says and strides forward past you. You quickly catch up and walk alongside her, a human and his Asari worker acquaintance out on a walk through the communal are. You notice the looks you get, very few of them judgmental, many more examining your companion, her confident gait more than making up for the working outfit.

“Did you have these sort of difficulties from the start?” You ask under your breath as you go.

“To a much lesser extent, maybe. Not for long, though, as commander Shihana ordered a substantial portion of base’s own production capacity towards support for local recovery.”

“I see. I noticed more buildings than usual seem to be in good shape around here.”

Libella nods. “Precisely. It was of course recognized as a publicity move, but that didn’t stop it from being appreciated all the same. But for some reason, the troubles began to reappear maybe two days back.”

“Well, now we know why.”

“I’d like to know the why, actually.” She shakes her head. “For now though, We just have an inkling if the “how”.”

“Fair. Can you share records from the incident with me? Maybe Eve will find something.”

“Certainly. Is she the one tailing us?” Liballa asks nonchalantly. “Don’t turn around!” She hisses when she sees you begin to swivel.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You lie automatically, to Libella’s soft smirk of amusement.

It doesn’t take long for you to walk through the district of all purpose prefabs and patched up structures and you come across a removed roadblock.

“Danger - unsecured area ahead. Entry restricted.” Said a sign somebody must have moved aside days ago.

“This way.” Libella says, turning left. You follow and the two of you skirt the border of the “safe” area. You’re rather surprised at the amount of traffic the red zone sees despite the very explicit no entry signs. As you walk past a rather large ruined skyscraper a sign unfolds before you that you were not expecting barring some one time shocks like natural disaster - a genuine shanty town of small dwellings stitched together with duct tape and desperation, with several larger improvised structures possibly serving some communal purpose or an enterprise that would not be easily launched in more regulated areas.

Technically the Alliance troops, or their local Asari allies, would be within their rights to apprehend whoever trespassed here and tear down the structures, but you imagined both of them, the latter especially, found such course of action not worth the controversy among the locals, as the community seems to have embraced this extralegal district as their own. You find yourself wondering what a diverse mixture of life choices make up the shanty inhabitants, as prefab housing offering sufficient creature comforts is one of the things that doesn’t suffer from scarcity - it was one of the priorities in the first hours after the Victory to secure shelter for what remained of the humanity, and with progressing reclamation of the green zones the capacities of this temporary housing began to free up.

“We’re here.” Libella breaks you out of your musings as the cobblestone road takes you to the riverbank. Cracked, singed, littered pavement serves to remind you that this is not currently a leisure area - to your left a portion of a quay has been restored and serves as a loading dock for an eclectic arrangement of river boats and hovercraft ferrying goods and people along the river and out across the canal for occasions that don’t necessitate use of a shuttle or another aircraft. You let your gaze wander from the dock up to the familiarly broken skyline until you let it rest on a structure that probably served as some entertainment establishment even before the siege of Earth. Now it has been fallen under Alliance jurisdiction and been claimed by some enterprising soul as a watering hole for the diverse assortment of locals, refugees from the area and inhabitants of the nearby shanty town. And judging by the presence of people sitting on the terraces above and below, clustered by handfuls, sipping at drinks, exhausting smoke and engaged in conversation, it was quite a popular one, too.

Libella leads you straight inside, exchanging a polite nod with a burly human who gave a carefully calculated casual glance to everyone coming in or out. A blade hanging at his side caught your attention - as you passed by, you were fairly sure it’s made out of a banshee claw. If Libella was at all bothered by such use of a corrupted Asari remains she didn’t let it show.

Inside looked pretty much like what you expected, or experienced during your trips to the less glamorous parts of Illium - humble lighting, lackluster or absent interior decorations and furnishings either robust enough to endure punishment or sufficiently flimsy to not be convenient as a weapon. Along the far wall ran a bar, populated with only a few free spots free by the regulars, but Libella didn’t head towards it. Instead she led you towards one of the alcoves that offered an additional measure of privacy on top of the moderately loud murmur blanketing the room.

“So, what’ll it be?” The waiter asks when he approaches your table.

“What do you have? And more importantly, how are we going to pay?”
You ask.

“We have synthale. The real stuff is not yet available for open market.”

You grumble quietly.

“And as for paying, you just leave a trace with your extranet credentials. We then requisition resources based on what people demanded.”

“I’ll have some water.” Libella says.

“I’ll take the synthale.” You say with barest hint if resignation.

The waiter gives a nod and withdraws.

“Alright,” The Spectre says after a few seconds. “We can speak freely here. I made sure that the outpost’s intel detail has higher priority targets than this place, and I have a dependable ally providing early warning for us.”

You raise your eyebrow.

“Are things that bad?”

“That’s the thing. I’ve yet to determine just how bad they are. I’ve made some progress in my investigation, but presence of other agents hampers me more than I’d like. I’ve got a lot of sifting and sorting to do.”

>Ask about what she found so far
>Volunteer some information of your own (NSD conspiracy? Ambition presence? Something else?)
>Ask about the message she sent you earlier.
>Ask about her ally
>Volunteer to help
>Ask about somehing else / do something else

>>3800983
>>Ask about what she found so far
>Ask about the message she sent you earlier.

then we talk our things

>>3800983

>Ask about what she found so far
>Volunteer some information of your own (NSD conspiracy and Ambition presence)
>Ask about the message she sent you earlier.
>Ask about her ally

All of them

>>3800983
>Ask about her ally

>Ask about what she found so far

>Volunteer some information of your own (NSD conspiracy? Ambition presence? Something else?)

>Ask about the message she sent you earlier.

>>3800983
>Ask about the message she sent you earlier.
>Volunteer some information of your own (NSD conspiracy and Ambition presence)
>Ask about what she found so far
If we need to know about her ally we'll know.

"So, what did you manage to glean so far?”

Libella sighs.

"Far too little for my liking. Even though the outpost commander is being very forthcoming...” the Asari makes a pause. “I saw you ogle the red zone shanty town. You can probably imagine that in every center of habitation on your homeworld there would be those that spurn the official rules and zoning. It turns out the local one is more active than most of its counterparts, a hotbed of trafficking for goods of questionable legality - be it because of its nature, like mind altering substances, or its origins."

You wince slightly. It was to be expected, but it was still not a pleasant thought, that even those parts of human heritage that escaped destruction in fighting, would be still exposed to danger of looting. Hopefully, most of those losses would surface somewhere eventually.

"This activity by itself would already make my investigation more difficult, but as I analyzed the traffic and patterns began to emerge, I realized that there's at least one, maybe two more agencies operating here." She sighs again. "One of them is connected to that little gathering you dispersed, as one of the recurring pains commander has to deal with is someone consequently propagating anti-asari sentiment."

"Have you found anything more about who these people are, or why they are doing it?"

"I haven't had enough time for that, sadly. Most of my effort goes to looking for old friends." You frown for a second until you notice that the waiter is approaching with your orders, placing some glasses before you. You both acknowledge him and when he leaves Libella goes on. "So with me being focused on Cerberus that leaves the outpost commander to look for the others. From what I understand, though, Shihana hasn't had much success in tracking them down. She can't exactly send out a squad of commandos to interrogate some slanderers, it could destroy much of the goodwill she was trying to win with the locals."

A heavy set of footfalls prompts you to look away from Libella towards the club's entrance. Kris walks in, without giving you a glance, heads straight for the bar.
You look back towards the Asari spectre. She gives you an amused smile.

"You really aren't taking any chances, are you, doctor?"

"What can I say? Life has given me a few lessons."

"Fair's fair."

"As you say. Speaking of which, I have some information that might interest you as well. At least part of the suspicious activity you are seeing is likely related to clandestine operations of one of the candidates for the upcoming elections."

"Is that so? Interesting. Please, go on."

"Have you heard of the recent raid on Nashan Stellar Dynamics' London headquarters?"

Libella's eyes narrow.

"I am trying to avoid stepping on Alliance's toes, but I do watch the news. Are you saying the Alliance found out something related to the election and that it's connected..." She trails off, looking at you with some apprehension. "Oh my." She says eventually. "You've been busy, haven't you?"

"You don't know the half of it." You shake your head. And it's probably for the better for now. "Well, the short of it is that the corp has been doing some shady shit in general, and part of it was related to the politics. We’ve managed to retrieve some evidence Eve’s still chewing through. Part of it suggests that one of the factions involved in elections, the Ambition, has some sinister activity going on around Rouen. Though I’m afraid I can’t tell you more of what business they could have.”

Libella keeps silent for a while, sipping at her water, thinking.

“Well, if their platform is against council authority, I suppose it makes sense to create tensions with us, especially if Shihana was making an outreach... but would the benefit from such activity warrant this level of investment?”

It’s your turn to lean back and study contents of your glass. Surely Ambition’s resources were not infinite. Would creating a rift between a regional Asari outpost warrant deployment of so much manpower as Eve’s findings suggested? What were they truly after here?

“Well, whatever their ultimate goal, I am most grateful that you decided to share these insights with me, doctor Ford. They do provide valuable context.” Libella smiles at you. “If I come across anything new, I’ll be sure to inform you as well as the Alliance. Without mentioning what you shared with me, of course.” She adds, which you acknowledge with a grateful nod.

You both take a sip from your respective drinks.

“Speaking of context, I was wondering if you could help me with one particular piece of Asari cinema I’ve seen recently.”

The Spectre’s smile turns slightly bemused.

“Ah, yes. Quite pregnant in meanings, some of them.”

She leans forward and drops her voice further. “I just wanted you to know who to look out for, and to remind you of the risks. The Matriarch is... pragmatic. She will not hesitate to resort to extreme measures if she thinks the benefits outweigh the costs.”

“Then I understood it correctly. Thank you for the warning, I appreciate the risk you took for my benefit.”

“It’s fine. Besides, with any luck...”

She trails off.

Before you can decide whether to press her on that remark, though, your attention is drawn elsewhere. There’s some commotion at the bar and cursory look quickly reveals its focus.

It’s Kris. Several younger men have surrounded him while rest of the patrons backed away to give them enough room for the implied upcoming violence.

Looks like your backup might.be needing some backup...

>go help him out with words
>go help him out with fists
>leave him be, he can deal with them easily enough
>other plan

>>3806255
>go help him out with words

Hey hey guys, something the matter with my friend here?

>>3806255

>go help him out with words

>>3806255
>>go help him out with words

>>3806255
>go help him out with fists

>>3806255
>go help him out with words
I wonder if these guys have had one too many, or the conspiracy is drugging people to be violent when non-humans pop up.

There was no way around it. By the looks of it, these people were resolved to create trouble and nothing Kris would say was likely to dissuade them. While you had little doubt he could handle a group of apparently unarmed people, you considered it your obligation to your friend as well as to those poor fools to try and stop the fight from breakup no out.

“Sorry.” You say to Libella as you get up, last glance in her direction confirming that she acknowledged your intent with a small smile and a nod.

With that you stride into the heightening tensions. In the corner if your vision you noticed the bouncer from the outside, possibly summoned by one of the patrons or some security feed, has entered and was idly watching the coming confrontation with a bored expression.

“How about a Rhino roast?”

“Maybe Tiger Tartare?”

“You’re all smalltime, clearly the patrician choice would be the Simian Schnitzel.”

It seemed for the moment the bullies were content with verbal taunts, alternating between >taking a step forward and >antagonizing the Krogan. It was high time to step in.

“Gentlemen, can I have your attention for a moment, please?”

They do fall silent. And they all turn to look at you.

“The fuck is your business, mate?” One of them speaks, a young man barely out of his teens, sporting a nasty scar on his left arm and other, less pronounced marks elsewhere. His companions bore less such marks, though none of them was entirely unmarked.

“I’d like to know what sort of grievance do you have with my friend.”

“Oh, a friend, is that? So you are friends with one of the galaxy’s thugs even when his kin is wiping out our bleedin’ legacy for shits and giggles?”

So that was what this was about. Or at least the story that was being sold. You’d have to get to the bottom of this eventually, but for now it didn’t matter much.

“Well, firstly, he’s not a thug. He’s a scholar.”

The actual thug with deep concern for Earth’s natural heritage locks eyes with you, his frown deepening, while his companions exchange glances and burst into laughter that receives some muted support even outside of this impromptu ring, although you do notice many of the spectators scowl at the show.

“Secondly,” You go on, aware that the apparent leader at least was listening. “You look like you’ve seen your share of fighting, as have we all. I’m sure you’re aware how much the Krogan have contributed to the chance for us all to be here and discuss these things.”

“That is no excuse for making mess of our home! Killing innocent creatures just cause you feel need to bust some skulls ain’t civilized.”

“Then what,” you say, tasting blood in the water, “should a civilized folk do in response?”

The scarred man’s frown cuts even deeper as he realizes he cornered himself. But for a cornered beast one avenue is still open.

“You talk too much.” He snorts - and lunges. His companions follow their leader’s example and the battle is joined.

You find it, in retrospect, perhaps a little unsettling how easily the drum of your heart in an adrenaline rush of a fight sees you drop into the rhythm and dance. During your first adventures you relied on luck almost as much as your wit, grit and agility. By your first deployment with the faux N7 volunteers, however, you’ve been through enough scraps to know you also need take a measure of control over the battlefield.

Even so, it was a baptism by blood and hot tungsten.

These men have probably seen their own share of violence, but even so they were clearly outmatched. You effortlessly dodged the first strike, letting the scarred man thrust past you and into one of his accomplices who was apparently positioning himself to get at you from behind. You don’t get much time to admire the twist however as two others walk at you side by side. Fortunately they seem to be uncoordinated enough that it takes only a few, economical movements to swipe legs from beneath one of them who then proceeds to take down his compatriot on his way down onto a single heap.

With a few of the the thugs regaining their bearings you have a split second for yourself. Looking around it seems the remaining... five, if your count is right? There weren’t so many in the start, were there? - surrounding your Krogan friend. It didn’t seem like he’s fighting back, although it didn’t seem like they’re actually doing anything to him, either.

A change in air, a sound of movement - you dodge on instinct and a fist flies past. This time the scarred man retains his balance - for all the good it does him as you smoothly transition from a dodge into a counterattack and deliver a backhanded slap on his unscarred cheek, causing him to huff angrily and rush into another attack without paying attention to his comrades, and so all it takes for you to thwart him is to once again sidestep from another attack of the thug he previously struck. The two collide once more and while they’re off balance you shove the both of them into the duo you toppled moments ago, leaving your assailants picking themselves up from a tangle of arms and legs.

Now you have a few seconds to help your friend in earnest. Although now that you’re free you can see it won’t be necessary - the Krogan is once again leaning against the bar, sipping at a glass. Strewn around him are a few thugs, two curled in fetal position, one knocked out cold with his nose flattened and bleeding. Looking for the other two you spot one more lying at feet of the bouncer who continues to watch the scene with a meticulously bored expression while one of the female patrons crouched down next to hm is checking his pulse. The last one is nowhere to be seen, possibly having reconsidered his odds he chose to dissolve amidst the other patrons.

You’re almost ready to relax when another rush of movement prompts you to spring into action. It seems the scarred man wasn’t quite ready to give up just yet, though you quickly change that with an elbow to the gut. As the thug leader falls for the third time the bouncer finally takes the vote.

“Alright, show’s over. Staff can safely resume to work. The defending party is advised to leave.”

And so, as suddenly as it began, the brief brawl comes to an end.

>check on Kris and leave with him
>go back to Libella and stay
>go back to Libella and leave
>other

>>3814849
>>go back to Libella and leave

>>3814849
>go back to Libella and leave

>>3814849
>>go back to Libella and leave

>>3814849
hopefully we'll be walking out soon hehe

Part two of the episode 10 has been committed to Citadel archives.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3785103/

Henri Ford And his crew will return in conclusion of the episode 10!

>>3826228
thanks for running

>>3826228
I love this quest, thanks for running.

>>3826395
Support lol

>>3826228
yey