First Steps

"And with work conducted on 433 Spidau, the number of sapient species that have been destroyed by nuclear war has come to seven. All evidence points to a massive exchange of nuclear weapons some one-thousand years ago. Scans indicate at least ninety cities reduced to rubble that still bear radioactive markers. That being-..."

"Ninety? Did you say ninety?"

Nariad Jarwinar scowled at the interruption. Bad enough that he was being interrupted and that this was a rehearsed speech that was taken from the one he made last year. Bad enough that a few days after that speech, he was forced to leave the Salarian Institute for Exo-Archeological Research due to the issues its relationship with salarian intelligence. But that it was a raloi of all species that had interrupted him...that was just galling.

Yes, my feathered friend, I said ninety," the former director mused, staring at the member of the newest species introduced to Citadel Space, "I know that such a large number might be a bit large for you to comprehend, but rest assured, Spidau did have ninety cities with radioactive markers. No more. No less."

The raloi fell silent, and although the various other students assembled remained quiet, it was clear that they were silently laughing at his expense. The raloi was the only one who wasn't a student. Rather, he was effectively an intern of his government, sent to learn what he could about the other species of the galaxy. In other words, in the same order of existence as a kepta. At least the others might amount to something, but either way, Jarwinar pressed onwards.

"Reaching the nuclear threshold seems to be an important threshold seems to be an important threshold for any civilization. The discovery we...they...the institute made on Spidau is just another reminder that surviving the threshold is by no means guaranteed. I believe that humanity overcame such a threshold only two centuries ago."

The human student nodded, brushing away her hair in a moment of shyness. "I...guess," she murmured. "Think it was called the Cold War."

"Cold?" a volus asked. "I thought the homeworld of the Earth-clan has a temperate climate."

"It had nothing to do with the weather...at least I don't think so..."

If there was a god, or goddess, or any deity(ies) that existed in this universe, Jarwinar wanted to...well, do something mean. Not the most eloquent of threats, but as far as he was concerned, it wasn't his fault. Once, he'd had everything. Power, prestige and a healthy relationship with salarian intelligence. Next thing he knew he was regulated to being a part-time employee in a museum on Garot II, giving lectures to people that wouldn't know the difference between their bums and their backsides. Clearly there'd been a push in this group for diversity, as the number also included an asari and a turian-an indication on the state of galactic affairs as far as he was concerned. Keep with the original "big three" of the Citadel and everything was fine. Start bringing lesser races into this, and the galaxy was liable to end up the same way as 433 Spidau had.

We all share the same struggle for survival...the salarian reflected bitterly. Shame that so many other species passed it.

"You know, I've been wondering..."

Especially the raloi...

"Yes, beaky, what is it?" Jarwinar snapped, looking at "beaky" as he called him. "Beaky," whose voice seemed a bit more deep in tone than it had been a few minutes ago, but was still the same clueless avian he had been this entire time.

"You made a point of each species having to pass the nuclear threshold..." the raloi said slowly. "It's a theory I agree with."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. But I can't help but wonder what your opinion is...on what's the next step? Do you think you're capable of reaching it? Of overcoming it?"

Two types of silence descended over the room. The first emanated from the group of students, glancing or staring at the raloi with everything from bemusement to a sort of wary respect. Jarwinar's silence, was the type of silence a krogan possessed before tearing a limb off its foe. A raloi...a blasted raloi had the temerity to question whether another race had the ability to pass some legendary threshold...whatever that was. By the Wheel of Life, the birds hadn't even made it into space until about a year ago, and one of their number was questioning him on such matters?

"Yes, beaky, I'm sure we can overcome the next threshold...whatever it may be," Jarwinar growled. "Does that answer your question?"

"Not really," the bird intoned. "But then again, what do I know? I'm just a raloi named Sargon."

"Sargon?" the turian asked. "That's an odd name."

"You don't know the half of it."

Something had changed...well, actually two things had changed, namely that the raloi's voice was back to normal and that he'd somehow afforded new respect from the others. But as far as Jarwinar was concerned, it was one thing. An upstart. A know-it-all who didn't know anything about anything.

Clearly Sargon had nothing to offer them.

A/N

There's a number of similarities that one can draw between Star Trek and Mass Effect, perhaps the most established being that the asari drew inspiration from the orions. One of the more obscure ones I noticed myself however, was that through the Cerberus Daily News Spidau arc and a few TOS episodes (notably Return to Tomorrow) was the nuclear threshold concept-that each species has to deal with its equivalent of the Cold War in some form or another and not all of them manage to survive it. So, taking a bit of liability with Sargon consigning himself to oblivion, I came up with this.

And a chance to write for a raloi-hopefully they'll be in Mass Effect 3.