Free of the Tiber's wall-mounted bunk, Captain Vorus shook away the last remnants of his hard, dreamless slumber. Aside from a minor throbbing in his head, he felt perfectly serviceable. Last night's covert inspection of the asari villa turned up nothing of interest.
The asari on this strange planet were living a mundane existence. Eccentric perhaps, but mundane. Following Whitefield's instincts had been an affordable mistake, but he had no intention of repeating it. The crew had the full night to frolic at the villa. It was morning. Time to cast aside the suspicions of yesterday and move on.
Now clad in a simple uniform of white and blue, Vorus was ready to get back to business.
"Kylon", he called for his pilot, pressing his palm against the subdermal earpiece.
No answer.
The turian sighed, having little patience for equipment malfunction. Kylon always blamed malfunctions on the "economic restrictions", "strained budgets", and "limited financial resources". Those seemed to be his three favorites, at least.
"Kylon. Acknowledge".
Once they got back to a decent merchant, Vorus would replace all necessary radio units. Communication was too important to let the salarian purchase low-grade technology again.
Vorus was about to attempt a third raise, but thought better of it. Morning sun struck the turian as he trotted down the Tiber's exit ramp. At first, it seemed hotter than yesterday, but Vorus reminded himself that he slept in the relative cold of his ship. He half expected to find the villa missing, but it stood like an unflinching mountain at the center of the island.
As he began his journey across the dunes, the villa appeared to tremble violently as something caught the turian from behind and robbed him of his balance. Pressure on his throat and back, and something cold against his right cheek flap.
"Name and purpose of visit", hot breath shot onto his neck.
The turian quelled his instinct to fight, but his words came out in a snarl.
"Release me, asari".
Vorus had only guessed that his captor was an asari, but the brief silence told him he was probably right.
"I am unarmed", he admitted. "Release me and we will speak as civil beings".
The pressure on his neck subsided, and Vorus plunged into the sand. Coarse granules scraped painfully against his palms, but no suffering was apparent in the turian's face. He merely rose to his feet, dusted off his uniform, and turned to face his assailant.
It was an asari. She was clad in black, a streamlined bodysuit devoid of dense protective ceramic. Military attire for most asari, even commandos, tended to look rugged and somewhat individualized. This suit appeared to have a sleek, handcrafted appearance that made Vorus uneasy.
In her hands, a small pistol. This too appeared unfamiliar to Vorus. The barrel was disproportionately slender, and it flattened into a disc parallel to the sight. The alien weapon was pointed right at him.
"Now", Vorus straightened as he spoke "What can I do for you?"
The asari did not speak. Vorus knew the slightest flinch could send a micro-mass accelerator round into his skull. He clenched his fists involuntarily.
"You should not be here", she said at last. Vorus steadied his breath before responding.
"This world has not been charted, to my knowledge. It has no officially established colonies, and no affiliations to indicate-"
"You need to leave", she cut him off.
Vorus considered this proposal. The asari living in the villa welcomed his crew with open arms. Asari were not known for fickle behavior, which could only mean-
"Now", the word erupted like a discharged round.
"Fine" the turian submitted at last, then asked "May I retrieve my crew?"
A pause.
"Where is your crew?" she asked. There was strain in her tone, possibly anger.
"In the villa" Vorus indicated with a short shift of his eyes.
The asari did not speak, but he sensed there were several violent fantasies playing out in her mind. He suspected he was a victim in each one.
"Let me bring them out", he suggested boldly. Asari commandos. Whatever was about to happen here would certainly be messy. His crew would have no part in this.
"How many?"
"Two. Just give me ten minutes to get them both out", Vorus always hated bargaining with asari. They had a way of making you feel victorious, even when you weren't. If he survived this negotiation, he would avoid dealing with their kind ever again. "Whatever you want inside that villa is yours. My crew has stumbled here in ignorance, and we don't want to get involved".
"Involved", she repeated, tasting the bitter desperation in his words.
Aside from her jaw, the asari never moved a muscle. No visible muscles, anyway. Vorus once saw extranet footage of Yujo birds during a hunt. They would stand motionless for hours, until some fat beast got careless with its grazing. The birds would always go for the neck first, their beaks like spears-
"Ten minutes" she spoke at last, snapping her wrist with such speed that Vorus could not even see where she holstered the weapon. "Go".
The turian struggled through the shallow dunes before hitting harder soil. Here he could move briskly through the sparse foliage without appearing to be frenzied. Vigilant residents would hopefully perceive only a grouchy turian acting without specific fear of death. He was tempted to quicken pace, but thought it best to avoid making a scene; he was certain that at least one pair of eyes would be on him at all times, at least until he returned to the Tiber with his crew and left this wretched place.