Tuchanka. A few hours later. Landing Commander.
The squads have been moving through the sandy desert of the Krogan homeworld for several hours now, among the monumental structures of a past civilization. Evening is approaching, and the local fauna is beginning to crawl out of their shelters. Fortunately, our group is large, and they only go for the vehicles if they are large beasts.
The heat is unspeakable. Even the climate control of the armor and the M15 Mastodons is handling the task with obvious difficulty. Food can be cooked right on the armor or on the Geth. The machines themselves handled the task much better; they withstand the temperature without any climate control.
"How many degrees do you need to be heated to take damage?"
The machine answered easily.
"Ninety degrees Celsius. At such temperatures, the synthetic muscles begin to boil within four hours of activity."
Lucky them; our armor doesn't boil, but at ninety degrees, it will be very, very hot. And then there's this sand, turning into dust storms. From time to time, visibility drops to tens of meters; the sky is covered with orange clouds. It also gets into everything; the M12 Warthogs already carry a thin layer of sand in their cabs.
The Geth were picked up; they are riding on the armor. They loaded up with ammunition; the rest was hidden.
During the trip, we ran into a Thresher Maw once; while it was being killed, a pack of Varren arrived—local pack predators capable of gnawing through armor. The M12 Warthogs fought these off; thanks to their mobility, the local fauna didn't like them.
Then another Thresher Maw tried to catch up with us; the overgrown centipede moves through these sandy jungles very quickly, and since its face is covered with chitin, bullets take it poorly, and it's hard to aim with a railgun. It chased us for about ten minutes until it got distracted by some passing Krogan. What happened to them... well, that's not our business.
According to Wrex, the real hell will only start now, in the evening. Everything that dozed during the day will now crawl out of the shadows and go looking for dinner. And since there's little food on Tuchanka, they'll try to bite off everything that moves. During the day, the same Varren are quite sluggish, and the Thresher Maws try to stay in the shadows of buildings, not to mention the local overgrown beetles, Klixen. Beetles the size of a pony, capable of spitting fire. And if you're bored, when a Gas Bag ruptures, the Klixen explodes. Such a defense mechanism against those who like to eat them. They live in small packs, are well-armored, and prefer to bury themselves in the sand during the day. And the bright scarlet coloring camouflages them well in Tuchanka's conditions.
"Now all that crap that dozed during the day will come out to hunt. Watch the road; some crap hides in the sand," Wrex noted.
Of course, we are almost at the target. We had to wind significantly through the partially destroyed city. Our column was joined by another group; now we have nine M12 Warthogs and three M15 Mastodons. Another group is acting as scouts. Geth are on the armor, crates are inside the vehicles. Cramped, but with ammo.
We ran into the Klixen exactly toward evening; one of the beasts got tangled in the wheels of an M12 Warthog and exploded, setting the vehicle on fire and breaking the suspension. Three more crawled out after it. The Geth successfully killed them, but the vehicle had to be abandoned; let it burn. It wouldn't be possible to fix it quickly anyway. Although Wrex took the multi-barreled machine gun for himself.
"Won't be extra, and it pierces the beasts well," the giant explained. For him, a stationary machine gun is essentially a hand-held one.
The enemy in the Kodiak Shuttle isn't attacking anymore; I suspect they are waiting for us to set up camp. Only drones hum above us. What they don't know is that our battered Frigate has returned, but is no longer descending. It's just ready to provide fire support. The ship took a hit, but our stealth frigates are tough. And they don't leave their own behind. But it's important to understand that activity in orbit will be noticed, so support will be one-time and for a limited time. After all, there's no traffic on Tuchanka.
In the meantime, there's sand and ruins all around, ruins and sand. And occasionally Varren and other crawling nastiness. These "man's friends" are something between a dog and a reptile. From below, a pale, hairless dog. From above, a reptile covered with bluish dense skin with spikes on the spine and large glowing eyes. The tail is reptilian, the fangs are long, even saber-toothed. They run in packs, trying to eat everything that didn't run away. For the locals, they play the role of exactly dogs. Omnivorous, which is why they survived.
All this local life didn't go for a large group of vehicles; apparently, they have enough brains not to pick a fight. Drones from the air are watching but not approaching. The ship or gunships are no longer appearing; they aren't visible from the Frigate either. Wrex is clearly not happy about this.
"They're up to something."
Definitely. No matter what Wrex said about the strength of the ancient structures, we have to wind a lot; time has not spared the city. Also, this city grew not so much upward as in width. It seems the Krogan of antiquity physically couldn't help but give even a five-story building a wide stone base, and then slanted bunker walls, increasing the building's area by about six times in total. The city is naturally huge.
We saw other Krogan, but they were mostly going about their business, following the convoy with their eyes. No idiots picking a fight with us were found.
"Monumental, damn it," the driver grumbled, "the Krogan built to the full width of their souls."
Wrex, sitting nearby, chuckled.
"Krogan have culture, even if everyone has forgotten it. Including the Krogan themselves. We'll be there within an hour. Get ready; I'd bet on an ambush."
The required structure turned out to be an ancient plant or other factory building. Several wide blocks with stone walls and a couple of entrances, about a kilometer and a half wide. In the best Krogan traditions, the building is wildly wide and heavy. This block clearly bears the marks of battle: a broken roof, craters, and pits. Not fresh, but at some point, this place was either stormed or shelled.
Monumentally heavy, like everything Krogan, with walls meters thick made of the same material as everything here. But instead of residential blocks, there are huge halls with the decayed remains of machines and equipment, partially covered with sand. Really huge halls. Not a fact that you could hide a Frigate here, but you could easily set up a base or hangars for interceptors and D77 Pelicans here, and there would still be room left. Although, if you collapsed the floor a couple of levels down and widened it a bit, a Frigate would fit too. Perhaps this is exactly where ships were assembled during the Krogan Rebellions.
That's why no one lives here. Too much space, hard to stop the wind or close off from enemies or bad weather. Huge hangar doors, partially or completely torn off their hinges, which is why sand easily gets inside.
"The bomb is here, if the Broker is to be believed. Three structures from here," Wrex pointed ahead, "right along this road between the buildings, after the left turn and then straight. Keep your eyes peeled; it's easy to set an ambush here or drop on us from above."
Definitely. Above the road, there are no less massive crossings, entire multi-lane highways leading to higher factory blocks. All this stuff is gray-yellow, resembling rocks more than buildings. A unique style, as Wrex said.
"Forward," the order was executed immediately. Scouts ahead, main forces behind them. Surprisingly, the scouts found no enemy. Only a nest of ubiquitous Varren and a group of Klixen. Otherwise, it's empty.
"Nothing is clear... Forward, let's figure it out."
We moved. It's quiet here, too quiet. It's already quite dark; we are driving by night vision devices. Turning on the headlights here means lighting up for the whole area.
The required building turned out to be a fairly intact factory building. A hangar door lies nearby as a half-decayed block; it apparently fell under its own weight. Judging by the clearly concrete sleepers, a railroad led inside; now the rails have either decayed or been stolen. Otherwise, it's the same empty, dusty structure. Everything of value was cleared out long ago. At first glance, and at second too.
"Get the vehicles inside. No point in exposing them."
There's plenty of room; we carefully occupied the nearest rooms, leaving two M12 Warthogs to keep the entrance in their sights. Otherwise, we spread out, right on the other M12 Warthogs. A small machine, with all-wheel drive and absolutely unreal cross-country capability. If anything, we can flee from the locals or gun them down with machine guns. And there is fauna here: the same Varren, huge insects. No Thresher Maws, but several packs of smaller beasts were driven out of their dark corners with the help of machine guns.
The Frigate was reported that we are on site and that the place is good. Perhaps, if we stay, we can set up a base here. And send air support here too. But not the best news was sent from the Frigate.
"Acknowledged. One second. The scout squad is under attack by Krogan forces; they are retreating. Get ready to meet guests; we see them. They are coming toward you in a large column."
Damn it. It was expected, but it doesn't make the situation better. Need to find out more from the scouts.
"Hounds, report!"
Under the roar of engines, they answered:
"We were attacked by Krogan squads. Moving in your direction along the overpass, many transports and infantry. A hundred or so, I think. And at least eight Tomkahs. Moving in a loose formation; if we hit them, some will manage to take cover."
"Looks like some clan has been raised against you," Wrex reported, "eight trucks is a mid-level force. We had more, but not too many."
So, we've been found? Or did the UAVs pass the data to the Krogan and decide to set them on us? Not good. Both options mean trouble, and Krogan are big and resilient bastards.
"Retreat to us. If they know where we are, we can hold the defense. More vehicles—more chances. Frigate, we could use air support. A couple of D77 Pelicans are better than nothing. The Krogan shouldn't have normal air."
In the background of the radio, shots rang out.
"Understood, we'll shake the tail and head to you. One vehicle damaged, but we also have a minus M12 Warthog."
Under the sounds of firing, the connection cut off. After receiving a bit more data from the Frigate, the information was confirmed: they are following the same route as the humans did a few hours ago. And that's a problem. A few more vehicles from other directions. It's unlikely we'll be able to drive everyone off with orbital shelling.
an officer ran to the landing commander, who is currently in charge along with the team. In the required room, paratroopers were pulling out the corpses of Varren, who had clearly set up a nest near the bomb. One of the completely closed rooms, if you exclude the entrance. Quite dark, and besides a huge cylinder on a half-decayed platform, there is nothing. The only thing suspicious is that the cylinder looks quite intact and not at all rotten against the background of the surrounding structures. It seems it was covered by a tarp or something like that.
The soldiers, seeing the newcomer, immediately turned around and began to listen. The commander waved for them to continue. Nodding, the officer said:
"A large squad of Krogan is moving in our direction. The scouts are trying to break away and retreat. They are coming exactly for us, along our route. A few more smaller squads around the perimeter, searching."
The commander looked away from contemplating the fifteen-meter cylinder, about five meters high, and nodded.
"They are here for this," and tapped on the black behemoth.
So this is the bomb... Impressive. It seems it was covered by a tarp and slightly sprinkled with sand, although this room is completely closed; sand only gets in through the door. A huge black cylinder, ten to fifteen meters in diameter, lying on a train platform of corresponding size. Likely, this is enough to completely erase the city with everyone left in it. A nuclear charge would probably be enough for a normal city, but the Krogan structures are sturdy; it must be really powerful.
If you blow up something smaller, the nearby buildings will just dampen the explosion, even if they are destroyed. Even the Covenant's plasma shelling would have a hard time here. Precisely because of the architectural features. MAC (Magnetic Accelerator Cannon) shots will break section after section, without a guarantee of hitting everything important. It was built exactly with this in mind.
"Is it active?" the officer asked carefully, examining the mechanism.
If it goes off, we'll be vaporized faster than we can even realize.
"Turned it off immediately," the paratrooper pointed to a pile of metal cylinders with inscriptions, "just in case the owners decide to get rid of witnesses or they have a remote detonator. Wrex is angry."
The Krogan sat at a distance, thoughtfully looking at the bomb. And thinking. He can be understood, as can the Turians who left such a radical insurance policy. After all, the Krogan Rebellions hit everyone hard. If they start to restore their numbers and take revenge on those who did it... everyone will get it.
On the other hand, Wrex is certainly dangerous, but he doesn't look like an insane psycho either. The Krogan reacted angrily, but adequately, to the news that their cities were mined by the Turians.
And overall, he showed himself to be indecently calm, sensible. Dangerous, but reasonable. Besides, the architecture, the drawings on the walls... Krogan are not devoid of the concept of culture, at least they weren't. You can't act rashly; you need to figure it out. And deliver Wrex to the brass; maybe he can keep his kin in check.
"Other cities too?"
If you think about it, what we did on that Turian colony is not much different. Came in, blew up bombs. Only the Turians don't need to learn to survive in a bare desert with nothing. And the Krogan might have to. If everything is mined, of course.
"Yes," Wrex answered loudly, showing that he heard everything, "insurance for the final extermination of my people. Grind the cities to dust, turn off the Shroud. The machine that holds back solar radiation. And we'll find ourselves in the desert, without shelters and at plus ninety or even a hundred. Too much even for Krogan. We exterminated the Rachni for them, and they decided to prepare our own extermination."
The officer sighed.
"Shitty."
Wrex stood up and approached the squad. He's not pointing his weapon; he's still thoughtful and calm.
"Logical, actually. They don't want a repeat of the rebellions. The remnants of the Krogan will be scattered across the worlds and quietly die out. That's what the Broker was talking about. A convenient but dangerous weapon," and turned to the radio operator, "did your people see what color the armor was on those coming here? Clan symbols?"
The man shook his head.
"They were on transports. Tomkahs."
"Tomkahs," Wrex corrected, "I think I understand what they're up to. Those on the station above us."
Now everyone was listening to him.
"And?" the Spartan asked; the second one entered the room and is also listening.
Wrex thought some more and nodded to himself.
"Soon there will be a bunch of Krogan here who think we have a huge bomb. Many people saw you; they just didn't pick a fight. Trackers, scouts. We passed through the territory of several clans. And then they'll find out that you dragged a huge bomb onto Tuchanka."
Damn it. It clicked.
"If presented correctly, they'll think we're going to blow them up!" the officer blurted out under the Spartans' nods.
Wrex nodded again, no longer grinning. Seriously.
"When they see the bomb, they'll definitely decide that. Either the Krogan, or those above us, the station. If the Krogan, you have problems. You'll get the clans' attitude like they have toward the Salarians. I'll become a traitor. Well, and they'll kill us all, of course. Which means we must kill them first. No witnesses—no problem. And showdowns on Tuchanka are normal. Killed and killed; other clans will get more. It's up to you, though."
So, defense. The building itself is very convenient to defend with vehicles. Lots of space, minimum cover for infantry. Of course, the opponents surpass us in this too. But if we can hit them from the Frigate or from the D77 Pelicans, or with rockets...
On the other hand, then there will be problems with evacuation. This station above us is quite a hindrance. On the other hand, we've already attracted attention. Who knows, maybe they can hit us from orbit. They definitely have ships. In short, there's a mission and too much uncertainty.
We found a Krogan for contact, half a millennium of experience, he says himself. Calm, sensible. Hell knows if there will be a better option. Wrex needs to be delivered to our people; they'll figure it out. We'd like more samples, but with such a tail above us, that's a poor option. Unless we can collect some corpses. If only we could remove this flying umbrella above us...
"Um, maybe we should take down the station? Well, just so we'll have more support options. We still had neutron bombs, right?"
The Spartan nodded.
"Good idea. The problem is the laser air defense. The Frigate shouldn't have many rockets left, and the station, if it's even half as good as ours, will just shoot them down. So we'll have to improvise."
And we still need to prepare for the Krogan attack. On the plus side: there aren't many streets here; it's a factory, after all. Mine the three unblocked entrances, collapse two overpasses, and an interesting surprise awaits the enemy's vehicles. Or mine them so they fall on the Krogan.
They likely have no aircraft, so the attack will be entirely ground-based. But we can order a couple of D77 Pelicans for fire support. And we will.
On the downside again, the enemy has sturdier heavy infantry and vehicles with heavy weapons. We have two (the scout squad returned) Spartans and Wrex. But we are on the defense, which is a plus.
We even managed to get some sleep when the roar of engines became audible outside the factories. The enemy was in no hurry to attack; they stopped and began to unpack. They even sent a diplomat. A Krogan climbed onto the wall of a nearby building and yelled:
"Urdnot Wrex! I am Tanabr Virk! I know you and your little soldiers are in there! And you have a bomb! Give it up and sit on these ruins as long as you want, catching Pyjaks! Hand over the bomb, Wrex!"
Wrex answered the same way, with a roar. And snipers lay down nearby.
"There's no bomb here! Get out of here; I need these warehouses!"
They are yelling so loud it can be heard for several blocks. Powerful throats.
"Don't make a Pyjak out of me, Wrex! You are an experienced warrior! These hangars were cleared out even after the rebellions; there's nothing there! Give up the bomb! With this bomb, we'll blow up the station above us and Tuchanka will have normal technology! You are a Battlemaster; you must know what this means for our people!"
Wrex snorted.
"You're just Pyjak shit! It's them, from the station, who told you about the bomb! No one will let you take it away, even if it's here! It's just so you'll kill everyone here at their command! It's the Salarians!"
The Krogan, it seems, was not impressed.
"I don't see a problem, Wrex! There are no Krogan with you, just weaklings; they have no business here! Let them give up all the gear and get lost in the desert! These little machines of theirs aren't bad, though a bit small! We'll split it and part ways."
At this, Wrex raised a sniper rifle he borrowed from the humans and sent a duplex toward his opponent. Then another, without reloading. He collapsed on the third shot with an exploded skull. Wrex grinned.
"Accelerate the projectile with a mass effect and it turned out great. Good machine, powerful. Get ready for battle."
Wrex is a sorcerer, which he of course "forgot" to mention. He stopped glowing purple, returned the weapon to the sniper, and noted not so loudly, so only the humans could hear:
"Get ready; they'll attack soon. This is what Krogan diplomacy looks like."
Who would doubt, after that, that they would attack. On the other hand, if he was one of the leaders, this might make sense. For a crowd of aggressive lizards, the leader must be the most unhinged and aggressive. Maybe they'll fight among themselves. There's little chance they'll retreat.
If they did fight among themselves, we didn't find out. The attack began almost immediately. The first wave was a column of Tomkahs under infantry cover. The first vehicle hit a mine, jumped, but the overall sturdiness of the design played its part.
Large wheels, a wedge-shaped hull, strong armor. The mine explosion destroyed the front axle; the Tomkah tilted forward but didn't lose combat capability, even if it could no longer move. The vehicles following it bypassed the destroyed one on the right while it continued to traverse its guns, looking for a target.
"Quiet, don't rush," the commander's voice came over the radio, "don't get under the guns. Now they'll come a little closer..."
The second Tomkah went another five meters before it hit a mine itself. Effectively, they blocked two lanes out of four in a staggered pattern. The third stopped, while the infantry continued to move along the walls.
And at that moment, with a hum, two rockets launched vertically upward from behind the building and struck the vehicles from above in an arc. The first detonated immediately from such abuse, scattering parts around the area; the second had a couple more wheels torn off, causing it to fall on its side, blocking the doors. Surprise!
The third Tomkah fired a burst at the roofs blindly, then backed up a bit, disappearing behind the building. At that moment, another explosion and crash occurred.
"The door collapsed, it worked," the demolitions expert reported over the comms, "we pinned them with a steel plate. Ancient structures after all; maybe not the walls, but the doors break under their own weight. And the overpasses aren't that strong either."
Another explosion rang out; judging by the dust cloud, they collapsed a bridge right onto the Krogan. Our demolitions expert is good, and precision wasn't required. The Krogan began to fire, chipping away at the rock, at the humans' positions, trying to break through.
"Fire!"
The enemy infantry found themselves on the street below under fire from the M12 Warthogs that rolled out of the structures and the infantry on the parapet. At the far end of the street on the outer edge, Krogan were found on the roof, and the snipers found work too. After all, we didn't have time to dig in properly, and this complex is huge. We occupied one building, hid the M12 Warthogs in a couple of nearby ones, and that was it. Well, and the mines, yes. So the Krogan will also have positions for shooters.
On the other hand, due to the monumentality of the structures, the distances between them are tens of meters, and that's already a good distance for sniper work and a bad one for stormtroopers. There's little cover; just take aim and fire.
But here the enemies are Krogan. Resilient, with regeneration and in armor. Wrex said straight out: keep hitting until he stops moving, otherwise he'll get up. A lot of bullets are used; the Krogan are well-armored and are in no hurry to die at all. And they fire back while they can.
And this is where the difficulties began; the Krogan are in no hurry at all to get under the bullets. There are no sorcerers among them, and they don't show any special tactical twists, but their resilience doesn't allow them to just regrow limbs right on the spot. They slowly crawl forward between covers as best they can. Their resilience allows them to forgive mistakes; if the head isn't torn off or it's moving—it'll get up. And they get up, time after time. But the humans don't.
The enemy also had some good snipers. Not always accurate, but a Krogan usually doesn't die from the first hit either. So the situation quickly became a stalemate, especially since the M15 Mastodons began to trade fire with the Tomkahs in another direction. An attempt to flank us from the rear failed; a firefight began. In the end, a stalemate was established here too. The Tomkahs are pierced by our railguns, but their caliber is sufficient to kill everything living in an M12 Warthog with a couple of hits or mow down the shooters with a burst. Or damage the M15 Mastodon's turret head-on.
Krogan sturdiness against the fact that we are the ones sitting on the defense in the best positions. And the humans are being gradually pushed. Shooters, snipers. One of the M15 Mastodons detonated. Three M12 Warthogs didn't have time to hide, and their Geth crew was blown apart by shots. At the cost of their lives, the street was blocked for vehicles; the Tomkahs blocked their own line of fire and the possibility of passing with their wrecks. But the enemy still has a bunch of infantry, and we have fewer and fewer defenders.
All this is in the night, where only the glows of fires and flashes of shots remind of the battle. When nerves had already begun to fail, white dots representing nozzles became visible in the night sky. The engines of D77 Pelicans.
"The cavalry has arrived. Sorry for the delay; there are air patrols in the atmosphere. Had to run around."
Rockets struck the Krogan camp from the air. The vehicles remaining there were quickly knocked out, as was some of the infantry. The rest managed to reach the building under machine-gun fire.
"Glad to see you, air. You're damn timely. Now roast them!"
But that's only half the solution. Something needs to be done about the bomb.
"Will it explode if it's damaged?"
The Geth answered.
"Negative. There will be a high radiation background from the internal components of the design, but there will be no explosion. Restoration on site will be impossible."
Wrex commented over the comms, driving off his brethren with shots.
"The bomb can't be left! It can be reactivated! Break it, I don't care how! It won't blow up the city, and that's fine! Load the detonators into your little ships!"
The explosives technicians began to prepare the destruction of the device and the collapse of the hangar roof onto it. A thermonuclear charge cannot be activated with conventional explosives; no need to hold back.
With the D77 Pelicans, the balance changed completely. The height advantage is ours; the Krogan have no vehicles, no aircraft. A minute later, the Krogan began to be pushed back, and then they began to retreat altogether. A voice from the ship came over the comms.
"Emm, why is the station dropping escape pods?"
Not a_
The relaxed defenders, of whom about half remained (the same as the Krogan), immediately twitched, as this made the situation even more confusing.
"Repeat. It does what?"
The other side went silent, clearly verifying the information.
"Dropping pods. I see many contacts. And, I think, a ship pulling away from the station. This is not normal."
The Krogan had begun to retreat quite successfully. For some reason. The situation was getting more and more interesting.
And about five minutes later, night turned into day when something exploded in the sky on the horizon. It exploded very well. The flash illuminated everything to the horizon. Was that the station blowing up by any chance?
"I don't like this," the ship's Captain remarked. "Prime the bomb and pull back on the Pelicans while there's a window. It's unclear what kind of madness is going on up there. Radiation is jamming the sensors. I'll send a neutron burst back at them; maybe they won't detect it."
When the first pair of Pelicans took off with the Spartans, Wrex, and the first pair of Warthogs on the hoists, the sky became very bright. Night turned into day, and the dust clouds were scattered. Another powerful explosion in the sky.
"What the...?"
"Um... did they blow up the station?"
The Frigate replied.
"The station is intact; the explosion was at a distance. The first one too—they are detonating something in high orbit. The ships are holding near the station. They are picking up pods and not dropping new ones. But we've blinded them with radiation. Indeed, their scanners were jammed by the blast."
This is strange. What exactly...
At that moment, the base beneath us detonated. Not too strongly, but powerfully enough. The nearest structures collapsed, flying apart as stone shrapnel. There are no signals from the surface. Equipment shrieked, and the Pelican began to shake. But we were already high enough that it was only a jolt. A nuclear explosion. Apparently somewhere between the buildings. Possibly on one of the Tomkahs. Perhaps they intended to use that bomb as a detonator. Or something else.
"That... isn't the bomb; the blast is too weak."
In the darkness, the flash could be seen clearly. And it wasn't even close to the city-erasing blast we had been promised. This one destroyed the nearest buildings, likely killed everyone below, but the massive Krogan structures quickly dampened the wave. Likely, not even all the blocks of the ancient factory collapsed from the explosion.
"Covering their tracks," Wrex grunted. "I think."
The search for survivors allowed for the rescue of about a dozen more soldiers, but the destruction was colossal. They managed to rig the bomb with plastic explosives; the radiation spike made it clear that it was no longer functional, and we took the detonators. The Frigate, having sustained serious damage, retreated toward the Mass Relay and Reach. The enemy station remained disgustingly intact.
***
"This is Citadel News, and with you are Viala and the handsome Turian General, Rutus Victus!"
"Hello, Viala. So, what would you like to know today?"
The Asari almost bounced.
"About the recording from Tuchanka, of course! Is it true that Humans attacked a Citadel observation station?"
The Turian nodded.
"That is correct. They tried to smuggle a massive warhead onto Tuchanka to drop it on the Krogan and blame the Council, then attacked our observation station. But this time, the Citadel forces showed that we can fight back. The Cruiser fled, sparking with hull breaches, and the landing force and bomb were destroyed. Furthermore, our fleet tracked and destroyed it, preventing its final escape. All the fallen have been avenged! Krogan settlements are completely safe."
Cuts of footage followed. The room with the bomb, Humans driving across Tuchanka in their unusual vehicles, a firefight with a Human ship, and an explosion labeled as the detonation of the Human ship. Destroyed Human equipment and blurred bodies on the surface. Sensors showing elevated radiation levels in the area.
The Asari, overacting slightly, threw up her hands.
"Terrible! I heard Tuchanka was already very dangerous, and now there's radiation too! These nuclear strikes of theirs are everywhere. It's good they were destroyed."
The Turian clicked his mandibles.
"I quite agree. Attempts by Humans to penetrate restricted zones and hire mercenaries and criminals will continue to be suppressed, wherever it may occur! All for the sake of upholding Citadel laws, and the peace and order of our citizens!"
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan