[Citadel- Metroplaza Apartment Complex] The Emperor's Initial Conquests

Cooking. An old enemy renewed for a new age. Staring down at the bottom of the boiling pot, Sarah wasn't too sure of herself. She glanced over to her right, at the large cookbook. Something spicy with a kick. With gloved hands, the woman tore open a package of noodles and dumped them into the water. She then checked the cooking fish in the oven below her, pulling it free and setting it aside. "Okay.. Okay.." She rubbed her palms together. "This can't be that difficult."

Opening her refrigerator, the woman leaned towards the back of the device, removing a frosty-cold bottle of a batarian alcohol. Setting it on the counter, the woman stirred the noodles with a large metal spoon- and then checked her omni-tool for the time.
"Wake the baby in an hour." She spoke into the tool, setting an alarm for the nursery in the next room.

The noodles cooked, she dumped them into a strainer and stirred them into a pot of cooking spiced meat and sauce. "Okay. I didn't screw this up. Unless he dies." She crossed her arms uncomfortably, checking over the cooked meal for any last-minute errors.

This area wasn't particularly familiar to Arash, but he had wandered through it once, and that was enough for him to navigate by. Arash was starting to to really miss having an omnitool on hand to update him about his surroundings. Absentmindedly he rubbed the stump where his right hand, and old tool, had been. This would be interesting. The lieutenant was always so pleasant to him, and yet he heard rumors of her once being part of a human supremacy group. No matter, she was offering food company and a new omnitool.
As per instructions Arash checked in with the doorman and was directed to Sarah's apartment. They checked for weapons (an odd thing he thought but no matter) and found none before letting him go in. Eventually he found himself in front of the apartment door itself. The faint scent of fish and spices wafted into the hall, making him salivate. Steeling himself for whatever may come Dr. Arash Hari knocked on the door and waited.

Sarah pushed her hair back in the refrigerator's reflection and cleared her throat, giving her appearance one last look over before making her way to the door and opening it. "Hello! Welcome, welcome, I'm glad you could make it. You said you've just gotten out of the hospital, and I for one know how shitty hospital food can be, so I made you some fish and some spicy Italian food." She gestured off to the kitchen counter, where steam visibly rose in the artificial sunlight. "Also, a bottle of Kar'Shan's finest and your omnitool."

She stowed her hands into her shorts pockets and strode away, taking stand behind the counter in the kitchen. "You're free to make yourself at home. Arash, is it? Adrash?"

The smell of the food hit Arash like a physical blow. Fish was part of the Drell diet now but historically it was a rarity, and it seems they had never lost a love for it. He stood just inside the door taking in the sight of the apartment. It was larger than his it seemed, but then again most of his income went elsewhere.

"Arash yes. After one of our innumerable gods. And thank you, the food smells heavenly. And thank you for the Omnitool, I'm sure I can find a way to pay back the favor." He stepped further in and stood across the counter from Sarah.
"Now Lieutenant I must admit this is exciting. We've crossed paths a few times at public events but I don't think we've ever actually spoken directly. And you present an intriguing figure. But I get ahead of myself. Will you join me in a drink? I haven't had anything Batarian in years."
It was an awkward phrase perhaps but the Drell always was more comfortable among the dead, or the soon to be dead, than with the living.

Sarah stared at the bottle for a moment, pondering his question, before crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm going to have to pass, with the baby and all. Also, the last time I drank, things got a little crazy after the charity dinner Michelle hosted and I'd like to not tempt the beast, so to speak." She offered a sly smirk, before turning and getting the man one of her better glasses.
"I know we've run into one another once or twice before. I've not met many drell, but one of your people saved my life, and I'm very big on helping others nowadays."

She poured salt onto a paper towel and set the glass down on it. "How's your hand?"

Arash eyed the salt, somewhat confused, but made no comment

"The one I have remaining is perfectly fine. My right however is still growing in a nutrient vat somewhere. And perhaps you are right not to drink with a small child to care for. If I may ask, how did a Drell save your life? Oh and I can understand things getting a bit crazy with alcohol. The last time I went out and had a drink I ended up being pulverized by a turian biotic." He couldn't help but smile remembering that night. Things had gone badly sure but it was still a tale to tell.

"Kimon Fotis. I was fighting a severe concussion, following being shot in the head on my escape from Omega. He helped me get back to the Citadel and helped me find my ex-wife. After that, we lost contact and he's stopped using the forum. I'm really not exactly sure what he's up to, but I hope he's doing well." She pushed up to sit on the counter behind her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"There's a lot I wish I could say to people I haven't seen in a while, but life moves on, and I have to hold onto memory until we can meet again."

"I can see why you would keep his memory alive. If I knew of him I would find him for you, but I'm afraid I've never heard the name in contemporary times before. I did always wonder what it was like to have to work to keep a memory. Ultimately a superior arrangement I think, it leads to writing earlier in a societies development. But I will avoid giving you the lecture. Shall we eat? It smells divine. Which is an accurate statement actually. Fish was largely reserved for priests on the homeworld. And in the meantime I don't think I've heard of this escape from Omega. I've been rather caught up in my work lately."

"Oh, no, no, I made this for you! You need something that isn't hospital food. I'm not a very good cook, though." She lifted the plate of spaghetti and demonstrated how to eat it- Skewering a batch of noodles and twisting a fork. "It's very hot. Be careful." The woman shook her head and waved off the Omega remark. "Listen, the Omega thing was ..two years ago, I think, now? Anyway, serious facial scarring and partial blindness. You can find old pictures of me on the old site- I don't look a thing like I used to."

"Had to have surgery. Anyway- What is it you do for a living?"

In truth Arash was rather hungry, and weeks of bland food (first in the field, then in a cave, then in a hospital) had left him craving something with actual flavor and texture. He took his first bite somewhat delicately but then dug in with abandon, though doing his best to observe decorum.
"Delicious, thank you. Did you know that in at least one Earth culture the proper way to eat noodles was with the hands? I always thought that a little strange after they had developed utensils. And I apologize if my questions were discomforting. You are simply a fascinating person. I only know parts of your story, and yet there is clearly so much more to it. More exciting than most of my life at any rate." At the risk of rambling again Arash cut himself off and returned to eating. It was good, and not a dish he was particularly familiar with. After a pause though he had to ask the question that had been on his mind this entire time.
"In all honesty though, why just offer me an omnitool? Not that I am complaining but I'm sure you could get some credits for it on the market. Also, do you happen to know where your ancestry originates from?"

"I'm offering you the omnitool for a reason I think I would have wanted, but given my history, I know would have been out of my reach. You've had a lot of pain recently and you need hospitality and something to help ease into regular life again, so I'm going to do the best I can. Consider it out of the kindness of my heart." She rolled her hand and slipped off the counter, deciding to humor his questions.

"As for where I'm from, my family is from the United North American States. My great great GREAT grandfather moved over from Piteå, Sweden when he was a young man with his family, and my ancestors lived in Boston and then Philadelphia and then Columbus, Ohio. I've lived on Bekenstein or on stations my entire life, the first in my family to be born away from Earth."

"Kindness of the heart? I can accept that. And it will be nice to be able to check the extranet and be out around the Citadel at the same time again. I expect it will be a while yet before I am properly in the field. But I suspect it will give me some time to catch up on grading papers, reviewing coursework, properly submitting papers for peer review. You know, the boring academic side of things." Arash scanned his memories of school, pages of text and images flashing past his mind with such clarity he could read everything printed on them. It didn't take more than a moment to find what he was looking for.
"My studies did cover a few pieces about those nations and cities. Nothing in depth, it wasn't my specialty. But it does bring to mind a way I can repay you for your generosity. Do you still collect antique armaments Lieutenant? I suspect there is a piece in my collection you would like."

"Antique firearms. What have you got that may be of interest? I've sold a good deal of my collection for my son's college fund and to fund the first steps of his galaxy-crushing army. With the galaxy's armies weakened by the Reapers, they will have little chance to defend against his terrible, terrible might." She spoke with an ultra-serious tone, barely concealing her smirk.

"You have any kids? Nephews, nieces?"

Arash did notice the smirk, but just kept playing straight man.
"I will be sure to stay on your good side when he rises to power then. Or run and hide. I know a few planets that could support life that most wouldn't think to look at. But until then: have you ever heard of the Peacemaker? It's an old handgun from Earth. This particular model was actually used to kill a husk. Granted that was when I was pistol whipping said husk rather than shooting at it but still. Would you be interested?"

"Really, I don't know. Maybe. If it's not too damaged, that is. Are you an educator, or are you a scientist? Where did you get your hands on such a weapon?" She went to fix herself a small plate of the leftover noodles and sauce, stowing a bite of the meal into her mouth.

"I'm many things. Part time professor, wide ranging archaeologist specializing in failed current cycle civilizations, antiques collector, story keeper and occasional demolitions expert. The gun is undamaged other than some wear from the ravages of time. The hilt was luckily heavy enough to bear the brunt of being used as a club without any trouble. Though I would still advise against firing it without checking everything first. As for how I got it? I collect old armaments, this particular piece was offered in trade for an old krogan bomb casing. Everything above board I assure you.'

"Why not?" She shrugged. "I could use another gun for the vault. I've got plenty. I may have something for you or Triskele- I don't know if you know her at all, but I donated a violin for a museum a few months ago and she assisted me. I was thinking, maybe, I could do something like that. I have a few old music records, very old sheet music, a suit of armor I used to wear.."

"I haven't had the pleasure to meet Triskele in person but we have crossed paths a few times in the forums. Odd how they and I call on opposite sides of the Archaeological bell curve. I study current cycle ruins and they favor pre-Prothean studies. It seems everyone in the field just wants to find the next Prothean data cache. A suit of armor? Must be a story attached to that. For now though, you asked me and I must return the favor. What are you? A soldier? A mother? A forum dweller?"
The last of the spaghetti was cleaned off of the Drell's plate. For the first time in a while he felt properly fed.

Sarah cracked a grin. "I am a great many things. Mother, soldier, forum goer, repentant soul, musician, and now cook, it seems." She took his empty plate and stowed it away into the sink. "I trust the food was to your liking? I'm not as good as a cook as my former partner, but if push comes to shove, I feel that I can cook a simple dish or two. I hope my son isn't picky."

"What kind of races existed in the distant past? I know the galaxy must have been teeming with life throughout it's history."

"If your son has food such as that it he will never have need to be picky. It was lovely yes."
Arash smiled contentedly and leaned back a bit, enjoying the sensation of being full. And he perked up when his work was asked after. It was his favorite subject.
"Well of course there were the Protheans, who were actually a single empire apparently, composed of several species. And they had precursors as well. And they did. And so on down the ages. But yes even in this cycle we see life rise and fall long before they join the galactic stage. The Drell were almost among them. Had the Hanar not intervened... well I would not be here to speak with you. It's such a strange quirk really. One change in the environment, one tweak of government or societal development and the whole thing collapses. Take one of my more recent digs for example. The planet had Eezo. Not in abundance but enough to allow for occasional biotics and to make a few mass effect drives. The species was clearly intelligent. They had art, science, culture, development everything. But they were brought down by social stratification of all things. Extreme class division lead to divergent breeding, which lead to the upper class becoming more indolent and stupid while the underclass became clever primitives. By the time of my arrival the upper class were just a memory and the lower class were little more than subterranean horrors." Arash shuddered at the memory. It had been a fascinating and worthwhile dig, but he had nearly been murdered by club wielding throwbacks.