Yes, it has been some time between updates. And yes, this is a short one. I was distracted by another fanfic that was demanding be written. Also, I didn't realize I posted the same chapter twice. Sorry for that. But here's ten. Remember! Every time you comment I think happy thoughts of you and you alone. Enjoy.

Word on the street was that Garm was licking his wounds after wrestling with Archangel. Jaroth would have chuckled to himself, had not the possibility of his own demise at the hands of the turian weighed so heavily on his mind. The salarian watched as his brother Velig tinkered with a recently salvaged YMIR Mech at the Eclipse base, occasionally scolding him and telling him the correct way to install new cooling fans.

Velig was more than happy to take delight in their rival's misfortune, however. He stood upright, wiping the sweat from his horned brow, leaving a streak of grease behind. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, brother," he said cheerfully.

"They're both my enemy," Jaroth muttered sourly. "I want them both dead." He leaned over to inspect the mech. The YMIR Mech was massive, a walking tank. Its white metallic shell was marked by a few bullet holes, and the circuits had been completely fried by a well placed overload attack from Jaroth's omni-tool. But it was a good find. Damage wasn't that bad, they only had to kill about twenty people on the Cerberus vessel last week to get it. It would be fully operational by the end of the month.

"So you let one kill the other, leaving the first one damaged and easy to take out," the other salarian said, as if it were easy as putting on socks. "Both dead, piece of cake."

Jaroth pounded a fist on the worktable, and it let out a satisfying metallic bang. "It's not as simple as that." He began to pace the room, hands folded behind his back. The two of them had been running Eclipse on Omega since shortly before Archangel arrived on the scene, and every day since his appearance had been a living hell. "We've lost millions in the past year. Millions! He launched an entire shipment of red sand out into the airlock. He made sure I was watching and spaced an entire six month supply of red sand!" His usual crimson coloring was turning a strange shade of purplish brown as green blood rushed to his face in fury.

Velig put his hands up in a calming gesture. "I know, I know. I want him dead, too. It's the principle of the thing, I get it."

"And then there's Aria." Jaroth collapsed into a chair. "I don't even want to think about what she's costing me."

Velig nodded solemnly, turning the motherboard in his hand. "Her tariffs are very unreasonable."

Jaroth sighed wearily, studying the mech. He'd drop it in the middle of Archangel's base if he had any idea where it was. Or Afterlife, if he didn't think the asari would survive the encounter unscathed and come after him in all her blue biotic fury. He rubbed his eyes, head shaking a little. He didn't need this stress. It was doing ghastly things to his digestive system.

"So we prioritize!" Velig said in a chipper tone, picking up a datapad from the workbench. "Who needs to die first?"

"Archangel."

Velig nodded curtly, making a note on his datapad. "And then?"

"Aria."

Velig's lips twisted up thoughtfully, "I don't think that's a good idea. After killing Aria, the consequential power vacuum will result in a bloodbath as the other mercenary groups grapple with us to try and get control of Omega."

The hand covering Jaroth's eyes lowered as he stared at his brother. "What do you suggest?"