[Nasurn] Why Conquer With Depravity, I'll Win The World By Undermining Gravity (Semi-Open)

Below them, Nasurn. The slow turn of the planet, coupled with its immense size, put Xuumo-kalashasi comfortably in mind of his own people. There was a suggestion of peace, of contemplative wisdom. Looks could be deceiving, though. Down there, on that green-smudged ball, was a fast-paced hive of salarian activity, second only to Mannovai and Sur'Kesh itself in importance to the Union. The elcor embassy - his ultimate destination - was the only true island of calm and stability, and to Xuumo it represented something else besides: opportunity.

Standing beside a viewport on the elcor governmental transport Call of Solidarity, Xuumo felt the shameful (and hypocritical, given his current thoughts) twinge of impatience. Let us get this underway.

He found Alonso tucked up in a corner, reading something over the extranet. It appeared to be an article on Nasurn itself.

"Approval: Reading up on the planet?" Doing his research. Good.

Alonso didn't look up. "You're excited".

"Mild interest: How can you tell?"

"Your smell has changed a bit. I'm learning what it all means". He said it matter-of-factly, and Xuumo was unable to place his mood. Humans didn't state their emotions, although (he now thought) sometimes they really should. All that insistence that Alonso reign in his emotional tells and his impulsiveness, and he seemed to have learnt the lesson too well. Or perhaps it was merely his age. Humans often became sullen and withdrawn as they entered adolescence.

Alonso had been doing well enough, though. His appearance at the latest (the last?) Council meeting had gone well. Xuumo was more than satisfied. Separation from his former gang had been tough, but working for the government gave you connections, and Xuumo had promised to do what he could to keep his people invested in the Citadel Duct Rats' situation - difficult, given how few of their own children were involved. Part of Xuumo felt as though he might even do it, too. It would keep Alonso satisfied.

Anyway, he had argued that things would almost certainly be improving in Tayseri. "With confidence:", he had said, "Whomever ends up winning the election, they will have to come down hard on the criminal element. It's been the key campaign issue". All the more reason to embrace the move.

Even if Vallario and Buzzsaw are both about as competent as a brain-dead vorcha. He had little doubt that Tayseri Ward was doomed. Good riddance to it.

"I thought I should know as much as I could" said Alonso, finally deigning to grace Xuumo with a look. The boy sounded pensive. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled, and there was genuine warmth there. He was embracing his role as Xuumo's 'junior partner' proudly. The elcor sighed, and released a scent cue, the equivalent of a pat on the arm; paternal, but respectful of Alonso's increasing maturity. Humans were such odd creatures. Their young, doubly so.

"Dad had some friends on Nasurn".

"Bluntly: I know".

"Are we..."

"Sternly: We will discuss these matters later, Alonso".

*BBBBRRRRRUU'UUUUUUMMM-UUUU*

A rumbling call over the ship's internal comm. system, a primal note of attention. A voice sounded after it: All staff please convene in the conference lounge for final briefing. Planetfall at Aegohr in twelve corsitwin.

Alonso raised an eyebrow, just as Xuumo said, "Anticipatory: About twenty minutes".

Alonso muttered. "Your minutes are slow too".

Down on the surface, three beings stood as though in formation around a fourth. Elcor enjoyed the close company of others, a consequence of their herd-dwelling origins, but there was an obvious emotional edge to this meeting, something confrontational. Nor, indeed, were all the participants elcor. One of the three beings facing the Elder in the centre was salarian, a thin male whose fingers rapped against his upper leg as though of their own accord.

A young male elcor was speaking. "This is not something that can realistically be buried in deliberation". Slight tone of disappointment, note of sadness.

"I am sorry. There is too much upheaval to be making tremors in the Courts at present, or in the foreseeable future. The latest news from the Sunken Nest has the Council on edge". Genuine desire for understanding, confident refusal, quiet reminder not to push things too far, without malice. "We do not have cause to challenge the decisions made by the Magistrates". With appeal to established relationship, hints of tiredness, slight sense of guilt acknowledged.

"What the Union needs now, most of all, is stability" said the salarian. "What the galaxy needs is a source for that stability. This isn't something we can discuss without laying the groundwork for action".

"Our friend is correct, Venerable One" said the third elcor present, a female. "This is not a matter of taking an unsteady step, but of firming ground that has already begun to liquefy beneath us. It has been a long time in coming". Unapologetic, yet cordial. Uncertainty mixed with private acknowledgement that companion is rather single-minded. Distaste for politics.

"It is not the elcor way". Distate for politics shared. Appeal to common values, tinged with acknowledgement that times have changed. Inevitability of continued dissent.

The younger male elcor checked the time. "The ship will arrive shortly. I must be on paw to greet them. Venerable One" - genuine respect, dissatisfaction with discord - "I must ask to cut this meeting short. I would seek another audience later in the day, duties permitting".

"It will of course be granted. Sirs, madam".

A chorus of three voices, two low and monotone, one high-pitched: "Thank you, Venerable One".

Xuumo entered the conference lounge and rumbled his greetings, receiving low nods and casual vibrations in response. New staff, recent transfers, a few newly promoted faces like himself; this was an unofficial last-minute orientation; unusual, and not something elcor were particularly comfortable with. There was a sense of quiet concern in the air. For his part, Xuumo took his place impassively. On paw to brief them was Coordinator-Maxima Gelshon, whom he knew by reputation. She was shrewd, but reserved. Gelshon gave him a long stare, conveying a certain appreciation, tempered by uncertainty. Yes, she had ties to Malvuon, didn't she? The recovery of the Harsher Chastisement would have been big news for her. He moved his facial sheaths in a respectful response. She turned away.

Welcoming, professional. "I apologise for the distasteful spontaneity of this meeting. I thought it best a few details are established, or more likely reinforced, off of the record". Satisfaction tempered with caution, appeal to shared professional interests. "The Courts have found themselves in a potentially unstable position. Our recovery efforts on the Council homeworlds have been key to elcor visibility in the wider galaxy. Their success, and our government's policy of cooperative aid to our neighbours, has placed us, along with the geth and the Union, as one of the leaders in the galactic reconstruction effort".

Leaders. Xuumo liked the sound of that. He sincerely hoped there were enough of his fellows who knew how to seize the opportunity and follow through on it. Along with the rest of the room, he took a minute to digest the implications of Gelshon's words, the periodic stretch of shared silence and stillness that aliens laughingly referred to as EMAB - "Elcor Minds Are Blown". Eventually, Gelshon spoke again.

Allusion to shared concerns, cultivated weariness, not without humour. "With the geth's recent behaviour, coupled with the continuing breakdown of foreign trust in Union affiliates, the Courts are seen as one of the few reliable options for planetary governments seeking external aid".

Xuumo took the initiative, hoping he would be read as committed rather than hasty. "The salarians wish to capitalize on our good name".

Affirmation, slight rebuke blended with acknowledgement. "Indeed. The Nasurnian clans are particularly eager to build on their relationship with us, hence our raised profile relative to the Courts. Naturally we do not wish to become involved in the internal disputes of the Union..."

"Sur'Kesh is displeased by Nasurn's ambitions". It wasn't a question, but then if Xuumo was correct this was Kaless-Juinxuk, from the security detachment. Not a job to be envied, given the recent salarian predilection for random explosions.

Inclusivity, distaste for the ways of the unwise and disorganized. "I don't need to tell any of you that the situation has been tense. You'll recall, in addition, that there was a major industrial accident in an outlying Aegohrian township over a year ago".

Xuumo had a sudden desire to roll his eyes, a mannerism Alonso employed when he was feeling put-upon or irritated. What have I gotten myself into?

Xuumo's first impression of Aegohr was the damp. Typical of salarians to build somewhere humid. At least it was warm. This was to be his world for a while, so he might as well focus on the more tolerable aspects.

Greeting him and his fellow senior staff members was a young male elcor with a subtly non-standard sheath; formal and professional enough to avoid controversy, but just unusual enough to suggest a statement was being made. What that statement was, Xuumo was uncertain. A scent of welcoming approval tinged with distraction came to his nose.

"Good day. I am Crysto, Attendant to Personnel Affairs. Slight air of distraction, apologetic; suggestion of professional concerns. On behalf of the Venerable Rossnok, I welcome you". Polite acknowledgement, good humour.

Along with the others, Xuumo drummed his knuckles and rumbled, a collective demonstration of polite acknowledgement and solidarity.

"If you will follow me, I will convey you to our mandatory briefing. Rest assured, we have spacious accommodations. The advantage of colonial living. Amusement, undertones of dissatisfaction, appeal to shared virtues. Those of you with attendant families, please rest assured that our staff will convey them to the centrespace; you may retrieve them shortly".

Said families were disembarking now. Several young elcor of varying ages, plus Alonso, who slowly looked around, taking in the sights and sounds. Not the smells, humans weren't very good at that, not at a distance. There wasn't much to smell anyway, other than damp.

"Whose is the human?" Inevitable someone would ask, simply out of curiosity.

Better get it over with. "He's mine. A war orphan; old family friend". Gruffly pleasant, sense of reluctance to elaborate; professional concerns, tiredness.

"Interesting". Approval, peaked attention, implicit request for elaboration.

"A long story". Insistence.

"The best kind, my friend. You are the new logistics man, yes? I heard you had tracked down the Embalhoth".

That boosted his mood slightly.

"More good fortune than anything" Plea to humility, evident satisfaction.