Ok, I finished reading Mass Effect Andromeda: Annihilation.
► Show Spoiler
The quarians that signed up with the Andromeda Initiative are part of the "Nedas movement", a group of quarians that think trying to reclaim Rannoch is stupid and want a fresh start, a clean slate, a new world, free from old systems and politics. Their motto is "Mered'vai Rannoch" which means "Forget Rannoch". Before they left the Migrant Fleet, members of this group would meet in clean rooms with a thrice-sanitized hologun to tattoo the motto on their arms. The Fleet let this group leave, and they joined the Initiative because it gave them the means to realize their dream.
The virus that ravages the ark’s crew is an artificially made chimera super virus --they dub it the Fortinbras Plague because the elcor doctor is obsessed with Hamlet-- made up of numerous things such as volus chickenpox called Yoqtan as a base, mixed with asari cyanophage, salarian proto-syphilis called Ayalon B, a turian hemmorrhagic fever called Titan's Tears, human measles, and junk DNA from Varren scale-itch, human bubonic plague, Kepral's Syndrome, and even Ardat-Yakshi. It was created by the quarian captain of the Keelah Si'yah, Qesti’Olam. She designed it to use the Drell as carriers that would then infect asari, turians, salarians, and humans when they reached the Nexus, decimating their populations. This was to make sure the non-Citadel races would be in positions of power and influence in the new galaxy, so they could be in charge and set the rules and standards and run things, free from old prejudices and being at the bottom of society and having no say or power in how things are run. Also, the quarian captain really hates salarians in particular because when on her pilgrimage, a group of salarians ripped off her suit in what they called a hazing ritual/prank for a few minutes and she got super sick and almost died. But the quarian captain and her helper, a fellow quarian named Malak'rafa, fucked up their own plan, and the virus mutated and started killing everybody. Not helping things was a computer worm they designed to make sure no one could figure out what they did that fucks up the ark's computer systems. The elcor doctor eventually manages to create a retrovirus to fix the problem before dying, and they inject it into the quarian captain who then walks around the ship nearly naked to heal everyone infected in atonement of what she did, and she finally dies in the Volus section of the ship, the pressure and ammonia of their atmosphere doing her in.
To quote:
"Why should it always, always be them? The Council races, lording it over us all. Why should turians, asari, humans, and fucking salaries always come out on top? Humans? Who barley puked themselves into a spacefaring culture half a second ago? Salarians! You know what they did to me. You know. […] I learned about artificial viral technology. I learned how to build my own like child's blocks. And I learned that people hate us. They hate us for all the reasons one species hates another. We could never really be safe in the Milky Way, even if we retook Rannoch. We could only be safe somewhere new. […] The Council races are native to the diseases I used, the rest of us would have been safe. Once it found its home, the disease would clear out the Nexus of everyone but us. Not just quarians, but drell too, and elcor, and hanar, and batarians, and volus. The species denied our places in the Milky Way. We would finally have our chance to shine, to become great, to create something better than the corruption of the old galaxy, the seething schemes of Cerberus and the geth and the rest of the horrors of home. A new life, completely new life, with us at the top.”
Also not helping things even more is that the hanar population onboard has a cult of heretical nihilists amongst them that revel in entropy and chaos and while they had nothing to do with the Fortinbras Plague plan, they only make things worse in spreading it around the crew and breaking what little quarantine they had, casuing panic and riots.
Its mentioned that natural viruses jumping species is super rare, and the handful that can do it are: Ebola, Measles, Marburg virus, Sangelian hemorrhagic fever, and Teukrian flu.
One of the batarians on board mentions that he took his kids and fled his colony and signed up for the ark trip to another galaxy because giant nightmarish machines were attacking and turning people into husks, so the quarian ark must have left the Milky Way just as the Reapers invaded Batarian space.
There’s a Batarian woman who used to run a crime family/smuggling business and while she’s not on Aria’s level she has some interesting stories to tell.
A Drell detective and former spy/assassin who tells different versions of her past and relationship to her Compact hanar, so you never know the truth, helps save the day with her skills and perfect memory picking up overlooked details. She also used to work for the Shadow Broker after she left the hanar’s service.
There are a few volus that believe in a form of anarcho-communism, wanting to abolish all money, all trade, all property. Their fellow volus consider them to be idiots and radicals.
The quarian pathfinder's SAM is implanted in his suit, not his skull, and is shackled and hard-coded to never become a true intelligence. It was the only way to get the quarians onboard with the idea.
A group of exiled quarian criminals once attacked an elcor city; this event is called the Little Invasion. I quote:
“Gangs of outsiders overran the city defenses, and then the power arrays. Not outsiders. Not just outsiders. Quarians. Yorrik did not like to remember it. […] All those helmets like mirrors where you only ever saw your own face, never theirs. Those strong, quick legs bounding through ancient streets, sacred gardens. Those grey-and-purple figures in the night. They'd gone dark for weeks, then. Under siege. He understood now that they were not proper quarians, Fleet quarians. They were criminals, gangs of undesirables and anti-socials the Fleet could not adequately contain. They had been dumped on Ekuna, a harmless outlying world. A Fleet problem had been solved. An elcor problem had been created."
Ke’sed is what quarians call the blind newborn offspring of the qorach, an Rannoch animal that looks like a carnivorus bighorn sheep who’s bellies are coveted in fern pollen and seed casings for pollination. Ke’sed can also be used an an insult or a term of endearment.
Lemek worms are a desert vermiform species that live on Rannoch. Small, slender, covered in rose-colored scales, and can regenerate if its chopped up into pieces.
Prolonged cyrosleep can result in micro-tears in quarian suits, allowing diseases to get in.
The quarian who's second in command of the ark actually has an Ancestor VI of his grandmother that survived the geth uprising/Morning War. His family keeps it secret to avoid it being destroyed or confiscated, for they are now deeply illegal, and also priceless cultural/hitsorical treasures at the same time. We get descriptions of a suitless quarian, Rannoch, and a ton of info on how ancestor VIs work. This ancestor VI is not a true artifical intelligence, but it does have the capacity to grow and skirt the edge of that line, because this one was given a unque method of problem solving/intellectual growth that builds and adapts. It eventually gets installed into the ark and merging with the main VI to purge the ship of the computer worm ravaging its systems, willingly sacrificing itself to help, because doing so will destroy most or all of the VI’s personality imprint and memories in the process.
I quote:
A light came on in the dark. A small, shimmering figure appeared just over the center of the disk, partly translucent, but otherwise in full color and three dimensions: a quarian woman, old but still strong and wiry, without a suit, for in her time there had been no need for them. The large, familiar webbing of a puckered scar covered the left side of her head, a memento of the time a geth told her exactly what it thought of organic life. Her eyes were white and kindly, without pupils, her hair beneath a rough cowl gray, her long avian legs wrapped, like the rest of her, in purple and red woolen robes.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Senna’Nair said quietly, though there was no one around to hear him.
“Always so formal, my grandson,” said the ancestor VI, as it always did, in her clipped, melodious old Rannoch accent. “Call me Liat, why don’t you? Never thought of myself as old enough to have grandchildren anyhow.”
[…]
“Grandmother, you are almost to Andromeda, what makes you technically nine hundred and fifty-nine years old.”
“Watch your tongue, you little bosh’tet,” said the image of his ancestor with a holographic grin. “Never discuss a woman’s age, marital staus, or how much she can deadlift in public.”
[…]
Liat’Nir was not a real grandmother. Liat’Nir, the hard-drinking, hard-talking, hard-coding, hard-living progenitor of his line, had died in the first spasm of the geth war, when all of Rannoch burned. This was a virtual intelligence programmed hundreds of years ago from an imprint of the real Liat’Nir’s personality, taken only hours before her death, preserved so that no generation of quarians would ever forget where they had come from, ao that no child could be without family. She was also deeply, utterly illegal, and almost unspeakable valuable. Liat’Nor had been Senna’s parents’ greatest secret, and now she was his. Before the war, there were thousands of these VI. Everyone had one.
[…]
Liat'Nir's imprint had been taken just before she suited up for war against her own creations, in case the worst happened, which it had. The pattern had never had a chance to be stored in the main databank. […] Someone in Senna's family tree couldn't bear to lose Liat'Nir, either to the geth or the sudden fear of all things VI, and installed her in a contained mobile unit.
[…]
Liat’Nir rummaged in her robes, swore a few times under her breath, and finally produced a holographic cigarette and pink matchbox. She struck the the match on her fingernail and inhailed her smoke with delight. Senna loved it when the program did that. Her phsycial behaviors were semi-randomly generated from a fixed cluster […] He’d never seen a quarian smoke in real life, and he didn’t think he ever would. The sheer number of carcinogens beggard the imagination. And to damage your respiratory system for pleasure, for recreation! It was incredible, like watching a dinosaur repeatedly hit itself in the face for fun.[…] the matchbox always said something different—Bet’salel Financial Advisors or Gaddiel & Sons Agrarian Suppliers or Ovad’ya’s Fine Cosmetics—this time it read Macaleth All Night Café and Cabaret. Forgotten, long-vaporized buisnesses from his lost homeworld, from a life he couldn’t possibly imagine.
[…]
When she turned around, his grandmother had a truly jaw-droppingly large glass of krogan ryncol in her hand. On the rocks. It had taken him weeks of immunizations and antibiotic courses to spend one night sipping ryncol with Yorrik, and it had felt like sipping knives. But Liat lived long before the quarian immune sstem was ravaged by living on the Migrant Fleet. Before the suits. Before anything that made a quarian quarian in Senna’s world. She drank it down with one gulp, fixed herself another, this time with a twist of citrus…
[…]
“My mind’s not what it used to be.”
“Your mind is precisely what it used to be, Grandmother, down to the zeroes and ones.”
“You rude little shit! You want to comment on my figure, too? Spill your guts, ke’sed! By the gods, I would rather take my tea with a fully armed and pissed off geth colossus than a young person these days.”
[…]
“Know anything about volus chickenpox?”
“I don’t know. Fuck the volus. Those little walking asthma attacks get on my last nerve the second they open their fat mouths. That whole species isn’t worth the ale-riddled bladder of your stupidest cousin. I was married to one once, I should know.”
“You were married to a volus? You never told me that.”
“You never asked, ke’sed. It didn’t last. If you’d ever seen a volus without his suit, you’d know why."
I’ll post more stuff later as time and motivation allows, or if anyone's got questions.