Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying. — Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

• ALLIANCE BASE, MARS •

Samantha Traynor returned from the bathroom and quietly slipped into bed with her lover; Xiùlán wrapped her arms around Sam and hugged her as she gently planted a kiss on Sam's nose. "I love you, Sà mi, so I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you and treat my words as solemn advice … advice intended to help keep you alive, from a person that cannot conceive of any future without you by her side!"

Traynor looked into Xiùlán's eyes … twin pools of inky blackness in the dim light of their sleeping area. Her face was so close Sam's lips brushed softly against Xiùlán's cheek as she whispered an answer, "Whatever you desire, my love. You know I'll do anything you ask of me."

Traynor could see the outer corners of Xiùlán's eyes crinkle in response to the unseen smile her last statement had provoked. "Sà mi, you are the smartest person I have ever met, so I have a difficult time understanding why you wear your emotions on your sleeves when it comes to your dislikes. I know you detest batarians, particularly after our misadventure on Klensal; everyone in our classroom now knows your feelings concerning batarians, including our batarian instructor. You really need to stow that attitude when you're in public, darling."

"Xiùlán, I …" Sam started to explain, attempted to make her friend and lover understand.

"No, Sà mi, you need to listen to me, please!" Xiùlán was pleading with Sam, her voice growing ragged even as she continued to whisper. "I don't want to see your animosity for batarians get you killed on our next mission; worse, your actions could get me injured or killed as well. You absolutely have to maintain total control over your emotions, get over your hate for batarians; pirates and slavers are one thing, but the average batarian is not too different from you or me. They're all just trying to make their way through life with the least amount of trouble possible. Revealing your presence by killing one during a clandestine mission will gain you … us … nothing but trouble, Luv, and quite possibly result in your death. Control, Sà màn shā, control. You never want them to see you coming."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond, so pulled Xiùlán close and kissed her. "This is important to you, Ai?" [愛 - Love (Sam's meaning is 'Luv')]

"You are the most important person in my life, Samantha, so yes, this is important to me. Our natural lives are short enough … too damned short compared to asari or krogan." Xiùlán planted her lips on Sam's mouth, only pulling away to take a breath and finish with, "I intend for us to live out what years we are granted, together … can't do that if you get yourself killed by losing control of your emotions when we're on a mission."

The inky-blackness of Xiùlán's eyes held Sam's eyes riveted. "It will be as you ask, Xiùlán, and I am sorry for disappointing you yesterday. You know I talked to Mr Creg'falak this morning before our class. We came to an understanding, and I will do whatever I need to do in order to make you proud of me."

"Oh, Sà mi. Don't ever think I am not proud of you … proud of your accomplishments … of your abilities. You are so very special to me, and nothing … " Xiùlán began planting little kisses on Sam's face as she finished, "will … ever … change … that."

Sam kissed Xiùlán, then took one of her favorite sleeping positions … lying on her side facing her lover, cuddled into the nook of the closest shoulder with a leg thrown across both of Xiùlán's; engulfed in a pair of sinewy arms, Sam wrapped her own arm over Xiùlán's tight midsection as she placed a kiss on the soft skin under her jaw.

Xiùlán whispered, "Wo ài ni, Sà mi," [我愛你,薩米 – I love you, Sami] as she kissed the top of her head.

It was early morning, and Traynor's backside felt cold. Reaching around behind her, she blindly patted with her hand, expecting to find Xiùlán had retreated to the far edge of the bed, only to discover the bed empty behind her. Looking around, she could make out a bit of light seeping under the door; glancing at the chrono beside the bed confirmed it was quite early, 0535, or oh-dark-thirty-five, as she liked to call it.

Throwing the covers off, she rose and stepped into the bathroom; after relieving her bladder, she splashed a bit of water on her face, pulled on her robe against the chill in their room and went out to their main living area.

Xiùlán was sitting at her desk talking to someone whose voice sounded vaguely familiar. Sam caught her attention and mouthed the words, "What's up, Luv?"

Xiùlán raised her hand, one finger up as she returned her attention to her monitor, silently asking Traynor to wait for her to finish. Seeing the tea kettle by Xiùlán's side, she grabbed her mug and poured some tea for herself before sitting in one of the upholstered chairs, feet and legs folded underneath her. She didn't have long to wait.

Xiùlán stood as she cut the connection. "That was Mallene Calis. I asked her to see if Serrice Council would be willing to design an add-on for my omni-tool." She paused to take a sip of tea."

"What type of add-on? Bet it's a weapon," came the snarky reply.

"You're actually correct. I want them to design a mod for the mini-fabricator that will allow it to produce a shuriken [手裡劍]; or, more correctly, a Rìběn tóuzhí de míngxīng [日本投擲的明星] – that is, a Japanese throwing star."

Xiùlán displayed a photo of a four-bladed disk, all in black except for the edges of each curved blade, which were honed razor sharp. "It occurred to me that if the tool can fabricate a straight blade that can be launched when my fist strikes something solid, why not a small, multi-blade weapon the tool can launch with a spinning motion when I flick my hand at the wrist?"

"Sounds intriguing," Traynor replied, then asked in a thoughtful voice, "How far would this … spinning star … be able to travel? Is it accurate? Is it capable of penetrating armor?"

Xiùlán leaned back in her chair as she answered, "It's not intended as a killing weapon, although it can be deadly. Its primary use is as a nuisance … a distraction, and it's only accurate out to about 8 or 9 meters. It'll stick in armor, but won't penetrate. Actual targets are primarily the more exposed parts of the body: the eyes, face, and head." She took a sip of tea before continuing. "Adding a bit of quick acting poison to the edges of the blades—on those stars made of steel—made it quite deadly back in the day; today, the poison would have to be tailored specifically to the target's physiology, and the mini-fabricator makes a white-hot piece of ceramic that would burn off any organic poison."

Traynor thought for a few moments, then replied, "Easy enough … always figure a batarian enemy!" She responded to Xiùlán's perturbed look with, "What!? We're certainly not likely to run into any other races on the missions for which we're training. Secondary race might be human, if we get to go after Cerberus. They're not likely to send us out against known biotics, so that eliminates the asari and about half the human and half the krogan population. So, batarians or some humans. Simple."

Xiùlán shook her head in mock annoyance. "You really aren't going to let the batarians off the hook, are you?"

Traynor smiled. "Not likely." After a brief pause, she continued, "So, when will this mod be available? Sounds like a complicated bit of software."

"Ms Calis will call back when she has a definite answer. Once the code is written, it'll be an easy download from the Serrice Council Secure Extranet site."

"Good. Don't want to have my omni-tool sitting in a workshop somewhere waiting for someone to return from lunch. Speaking of which … " Traynor looked at the chrono on the wall, "I'm starved, but it's still too early for breakfast to be served. Let's get through our morning exercise routines so we can shower and get dressed; by the time we're all done, we can go get some breakfast!"

"Great! I could really go for some pan fried green onion pancakes, maybe with an egg. Nice hot cup of tea! Mmmm! Can't wait!"

Traynor wrinkled her nose as she snarked, "Maybe for you! I'll steer clear of the pancakes. Maybe a nice omelet … " The women continued their friendly banter as they spent the next thirty-five minutes performing their Tai Chi routines, after which they showered, got dressed and left their quarters for the Mess Hall.

Traynor's next class was being taught by a salarian member of the Union's STG—their Special Tasks Group. Lieutenant Ganto Imness was on short-term loan to the Alliance for this one program, after which he would return to the 3rd Infiltration Regiment.

Traynor was impressed with Imness' background and the STG in general; their sole focus was on gathering intelligence before committing themselves irreversibly to whatever task was assigned to them, and they always had an alternate, backup plan ready to enable successful completion of their mission.

Of all the special knowledge the Lieutenant shared with the class, Samantha was most intrigued by the software Imness had allowed her and several of her classmates to add to their omni-tools. The mini-program would allow her to modify a personal shield generator so it could be used to assassinate someone; once so modified, all one had to do was infiltrate and replace the target's personal shield generator. It would be a simple matter afterwards to set up a situation that would cause the target to fear an attack. The instant the shield was activated for protection, it would quickly and silently crush the person wearing it. Once complete, the program would self-delete from the mini-computer, leaving nothing to trace. The death would appear to be nothing more than a shield malfunction.

After passing the hack on to his students, the salarian added one more mini-program to their omni-tools, recommending as he did so that everyone in the class use it faithfully to remotely test their personal shield generators before they put them on, every time before they put them on.

Traynor's fertile mind now had the answer she had been looking for regarding Marianna Walsh and Darius Holden, the pair of low-level Cerberus operatives responsible for the death of her friend Heather Gonzales. She began designing code in her head as the class continued … code that would allow her to remotely hack a shield generator actually being worn by someone, rather than having to substitute a previously modified device. It would be a lot less trouble, with less chance of something going wrong in the execution of the hack. She also needed to add the scanning program to Xiùlán's omni-tool and make sure she was using it … Traynor was certainly not going to allow her lover to be killed by anyone using her own shield generator against her.

Xiùlán and Sam had been splitting their class time on Mars with more frequent short missions in the nearby systems; systems of interest to humans were usually a bone of contention with the Batarian Hegemony. The pair made several low-profile trips to the Viper Nebula, home cluster for batarian colonization on the second planet orbiting Bahak. Aratoht was nobody's idea of a garden world; air pressure of just over half that of Earth and low atmospheric oxygen content were a deterrent to large-scale colonization by humans. The Hegemony had been quietly colonizing Aratoht's Polar Regions, where the planet's heat was manageable due to heavy rainfall.

As colonial statistics were tightly restricted by the Hegemony's Information Control Department, Yuán and Traynor had made a total of four landfalls of three-days duration each near the fledgling colonies to gather information deemed crucial to the Alliance's long-range defense plans; as the system's Mass Relay connected only with Charon, the military felt the name 'Viper' to be quite appropriate—a snake coiled and ready to strike in the Local Cluster and shortly after in Arcturus.

Of special interest was the discovery of an extensive mining industry; massive quantities of the high-density planet's rich lodes of ferrous and heavy metals were being retrieved for off-world shipment through extensive use of slave labor; Traynor was quick to point out that this planet most likely would have been their new home if they hadn't escaped their captors on Klensal.

The batarians had spent untold billions of credits and endured thousands of casualties in their efforts to prove humans were cowardly weaklings for abandoning efforts to colonize such a rich planet; the Alliance chose to concentrate their colonial efforts on planets that could support human life without the aid of domed habitats and re-breathers. What the batarians scornfully attributed to human spinelessness, the Alliance saw as a prudent use of scarce resources, both in materials and in personnel.

On their last planet-fall, Xiùlán and Sam were two klicks apart from each other covertly observing a military base when Sam had the misfortune of being discovered by a batarian patrol; she quickly subdued the pair and hid them within the fractures in the massive rock formations common to the area. After waiting for an hour to see if their absence was noticed, Xiùlán joined up with Sam so they could relocate to a position south of Traynor's location, where they continued their observations for another six hours.

As they were so far north on the planet, there was no 'sunset' or 'sunrise'—the sky simply darkened a bit as the sun hugged the horizon for a few hours, similar to the 'midnight' sun effect in the northern reaches of the North American continent on Earth. It was during this period of twilight the pair was able to actually enter the base and record video footage of the soldiers, slaves, weapons caches, vehicle depots and the like.

Making their way back to their extraction point was made more difficult by the increased patrols looking for the intruder or intruders responsible for beating two of their comrades senseless and leaving them to cook in the rocks west of the base. After dodging patrols for over four hours, they were finally able to meet their shuttle and head back to the SSV Agincourt; after a shower, change of clothes and some hot food, they attended the debrief with the ship's captain, who was quite interested in their reasons for being so late for their rendezvous with the shuttle, as was the Alliance information officer assigned to record and analyze their observations.

Upon arriving 'home' after their latest mission, Yuán had an incoming message alert. Dropping her gear bag at the entrance to their sleeping quarters, she keyed on her terminal and read the message twice before closing the interface and looking at a waiting Traynor with a small smile. "Mallene Calis responded to my inquiry about modding my omni-tool. Serrice is creating the software … should be ready by middle of next week." She paused to perform some mental calculations. "If Serrice stays on schedule, I'll have it installed on my omni-tool a couple days before we have to leave again."

"That should make you happy. Give you a day or so to practice using it before we go out again. I'm looking forward to seeing exactly what type of bladed circle it makes," Sam said with an evil-looking grin. "Come on; let's get our stuff put away so we can go eat."

Xiùlán smiled as she pointed to the flashing alert on Sam's desk. "Better take a look at your own terminal, Sà mǐ. Looks like there's a message waiting for you as well."

Traynor went to her terminal and keyed it on as Xiùlán walked past, headed for their bedroom. She had just grabbed her gear bags when she heard a choked exclamation from Sam. "Those miserable bastards!"

Xiùlán turned back with a frown and waited for Traynor to explain. "Someone got to 'em in the lockup, Linn! They're dead … throats cut, just like Gonzales!"

Fearing she already knew the answer, Xiùlán asked the question. "Who is dead, Sà mǐ?"

"Our pals from Cerberus! Walsh and Holden … night before last, in their bloody cells! Someone managed to get past all the fantastic security there and slice their necks open from ear to fuckin' ear!" Traynor hung her head as she leaned on the edge of her desk for a few moments before allowing her body to drop heavily into her chair. "Bloody fuckin' 'ell!"

Xiùlán thought for a moment, then asked, "Surely there must be surveillance vids? Or witnesses? Someone must have seen something out of the ordinary … "

"Security vid's been scrubbed clean, most likely by a self-deleting virus. No witnesses either—and that's probably a good thing … no need in having anyone else dead because of this!" Samantha leaned back in the chair, hands balled up with her palms over her eyes and knuckles on her forehead. "Bollocks! I really wanted to quiz that little bitch before those two were transported off-planet! Learning who was behind the operation that got Gonzales murdered is gonna be nigh on impossible now!"

"Well, we do know Cerberus was involved … that narrows the field somewhat." Xiùlán paused to think for a moment, and then asked, "Did Dhevile Creg'falak reveal if he thought anyone in our two-day batarian familiarization class stood out as a possible Cerberus sympathizer or operative? You told me he was really scrutinizing everyone on the second day."

"Apparently no one looked like an alien hater … except me on the first day," Traynor replied with a frown. "I'm sure someone in that class set up the attempted hit on 'im. Perhaps when that failed, it was decided to simply eliminate the possible threat of betrayal by Walsh and Holden." Traynor brought her hands down and started composing a message for Corporal Claudine Phillips as she explained, "I'll send a note to one of the two Marines that took Walsh into custody—Corporal Phillips … see if she can meet us in the Mess Hall. Maybe she'll have some insight into what happened."

Xiùlán replied, "Sounds good. I'm going to get cleaned up and changed. Hopefully Phillips will be able to meet us during lunch."

• MASS RELAY · HAN SYSTEM, GEMINI SIGMA · 28 JUNE 2180 •

The MV Crystal Scarab, wreathed in swirling, ethereal clouds of blue and white charged energy particles, dropped into normal space just over a million kilometers from the Mass Relay that would be their conduit back to the Hades Gamma cluster. Captain Uzor Saelon performed a routine sweep of the immediate area as the navigator and pilot conferred about the coordinates needed to travel to Patatanlis in order to discharge the drive core. Once that chore was done, they would hop the relay for a ride back to the Antaeus System.

Septivus Vulpez had been fortunate; Paravin, the first planet orbiting Han, was home to an unmanned station in geosynchronous orbit. Vulpez found a small treasure trove of Matriarch Dilinaga's ancient written texts on board; further, there was one text in particular that had indicated a similar deposit was located on Mavigon; what they found there was quite possibly every bit as valuable as all the texts found so far. A figurine of Janiri, the asari goddess of seasons, storms, and agriculture; it stood approximately 40 centimeters high and was in excellent condition despite its apparent age, which Vulpez estimated it to be 2000 to 2500 years old, possibly closer to 3000.

It was carved from a single piece of Bolan wood; extremely dense and tightly grained, this wood was prized for its beautiful colors and the contrasting striations brought about by the hardening process once a piece had been carved. It was thought by most asari that Bolan trees were extinct, as it had been over a thousand years since a single specimen had been seen anywhere else in the galaxy. To have found this carving, undoubtedly once in the possession of the Matriarch, was a discovery of the first order.

In addition to listing all of his discoveries (with still photos where necessary) on his personal datapad, Vulpez had carefully logged all of his findings in his personal journal, a small book he kept hidden in an interior pocket of his jacket. At 87 days, this excursion had taken a lot longer than he would have liked. Having to visit two planets to recover everything accounted for much of the additional time, but the rewards for this trip would be extensive.

He had carefully placed all of Matriarch Dilinaga's texts into a specially designed case; each was separated from the next by a piece of archival material designed to resist the effects of centuries of neglect. The pages were delicate, and Septivus was taking no chances with the brittle relics. He intended to present them to the asari councilor on the Citadel, and did not wish to be seen as a simple profiteer of ancient artifacts.

Septivus had just picked up the Janiri figurine, intending to place it in a special case, when he was tossed across his compartment by an abrupt course change simultaneous to a staggering impact at the vessel's stern. It appeared they had come under attack.

• ALLIANCE BASE, MARS •

Corporal Claudine Phillips had grabbed a mug of coffee and joined Traynor and Yuán in the main cafeteria as the two women were about halfway through their meal. Phillips told them all she knew about Walsh's and Holden's murders; unfortunately, it wasn't much more than what Traynor had learned from the e-mail she'd received.

"Evidence was made to look as if each of them managed to obtain a knife and cut their own throats," Claudine said. "Only problem is, there were no knives left behind in their cells and the blood spatters on the overhead and walls indicates someone big stood right behind each of them and sliced them open. Nothing on surveillance video, no unusual noises, nothing." Phillips took a pull from her mug and continued with, "Whoever it was, they were quiet and left no trace of their entrance and exit from the cellblock, or the entire compound, for that matter."

Samantha was quiet as she thought about Cerberus and the group's penchant for secrecy and clandestine wet work. "Can I take a look at the 'stills' from your evidence vids … the ones taken before their bodies were removed?"

"Don't know what good that will do, Serviceman, and I cannot show them to you in here, in public … they're classified."

"Has Alliance Command been notified?" Traynor asked.

"Most certainly, Serviceman. And the answer to your next question would also be 'Yes'; Gonzales' family has been notified that her murderer was found dead while in our custody. Certainly not the resolution I had hoped for, as the question of 'why' still remains. I sincerely doubt we will ever know their reasoning."

Xiùlán fixed Phillips with a hard stare as she asked, "About the photos, Claudine. Can we meet in a secure conference room, perhaps in your department? It might be helpful to have another pair of eyes, or two, take a look … ?"

Claudine thought for a moment, then brightened visibly. "There's a secure conference room up a level and down the passageway. My security credentials can get us in … you two ready to go?

Traynor didn't hesitate. "You even have to ask? Lead the way, Corporal, please."

• HAN SYSTEM, GEMINI SIGMA •

As Captain Kryllê Ghydgryz brought the batarian pirate vessel Black Slayer out of the shadow of the planet Patatanlis, he marveled at his good fortune. The salarian freighter he had been waiting for, the ship he had very nearly given up on encountering after 87 days of orbiting the planet, had virtually flown into his lap! Never one to squander such a gift, Ghydgryz had immediately sent the Slayer into the shadow, the area of the planet between his own ship and the freighter he coveted.

His pilot increased the ship's velocity while he sent word below decks, ordering his eight toughest men to form a boarding party and standby. Kryllê Ghydgryz intended to take every last bit of freight from his victim and leave no witnesses behind—the freighter would simply become another victim of a navigational error, the manner of its destruction forever hidden by the damage caused in a high speed impact with the rocky planet below.

Coming out of the planet's shadow on the far side, sensors confirmed the freighter was still on its original heading, set to perform a partial orbit in order to discharge the heat from its mass effect core. Ghydgryz guessed the ship's captain would have performed a preliminary sensor sweep of the system, looking for any ships—such as his own—that would be a danger to a defenseless freighter.

"Weapons control!" Ghydgryz barked at the man sitting behind the ships pilot. "Target their engines and environmental systems … I want that vessel disabled, not destroyed! Are. We. Clear?" The man flinched at this last question, even as he responded in the affirmative. Their last victim had been hit in a particularly vulnerable portion of their engine controls; the resulting explosion had torn the ship apart and spilled its cargo and crew over a sixty-million cubic kilometer area. Ghydgryz hadn't even been able to recoup the cost of the two ship-to-ship missiles used to take it down.

"Target plotted, Captain. One missile is hot, another on standby," came the word from the weapons officer.

Kryllê acknowledged the report as he continued to watch his sensor readouts. He waited until it was clear the freighter had completed discharging its drive core and was changing course to head for the Mass Relay. While it was in the middle of its turn, Ghydgryz gave the command. "Fire!"

The deck beneath his feet answered his command with the vibration from a missile launch; in less than a minute, it reached its intended target and detonated, destroying the engine pod and ancillary controls. The catalyzed fuel mix being pumped under high pressure to the now destroyed engine ignited into a fireball that quickly burned out as the freighter's computer shut down the turbo-pumps. The stricken vessel began slowly tumbling as it drifted on its interrupted trajectory; halfway through its turn towards the Mass Relay, it was now on a path that would take it well past the ancient machine. As maneuvering thrusters did not possess enough thrust for such a radical course correction, the now powerless ship would continue on into the gas cloud surrounding the Han system. Unfortunately for the MV Crystal Scarab, it was about to receive intervention of a hostile kind, as the Black Slayer closed in for the kill.

• ALLIANCE BASE, MARS •

Traynor sat beside Claudine and viewed the photos on the corporal's omni-tool; a whispered sonuvabitch escaped her as she took a closer look at the way Marianna Walsh's body was lying on the concrete floor of her cell.

Yuán placed a hand on Traynor's shoulder and asked in a low voice, "Something you care to share, Sà mǐ?"

Traynor looked first at Xiùlán, then at Phillips, before returning her gaze to the photo being displayed on the omni-tool. "Walsh's body position seems strange to me. She didn't simply fall to the floor when her throat was cut. See this?" She pointed to the rigid posture of her limbs. "She should have collapsed as she died, like a puppet … a marionette … as if her strings had been cut. Walsh is lying in the floor stiff as a board, everything rigid, like she died and fell while standing at attention. Is that possible?"

Yuán took a close look over Claudine's shoulder to see what Sam was talking about, and then added in a contemplative tone, "My guess? Marianna Walsh was under the influence of a stasis field when she was killed … the effects of the field didn't wear off until after she'd fallen to the floor. How … ?"

Phillips perked up at this revelation. "Her assassin was either a biotic or had a mass field generator. I believe you both may be on to something … it would explain the effortless way both were killed! No fighting back, no verbal protests." The corporal entered this information in her omni-tool and stood to leave. "The assassin only needed to be in the same room with them … once they were restrained in a stasis field, slicing their throats would be easy." Directing her gaze first at Traynor, then at Xiùlán, she added, "Thanks for looking at this with me, both of you! I'll forward this additional info on up the chain … maybe it'll help us catch whoever did this." As the trio left the conference room and Phillips secured the entry behind them, she added, "I'll let you know what we find."

Yuán Xiùlán had been in the 'harsh environment' practice room for over three hours. She was fully armored up, including a breather helmet sealed to her suit. She hated the restrictions imposed by the helmet, but felt she needed to practice for a worst-case assignment. She had set the gravity and atmospheric pressure to twice that of Earth normal; batarian pirates and slavers, part of the sim program Traynor had written and uploaded, randomly popped up from cover and out of simulated buildings, allowing her to practice with her enhanced Serrice Council omni-tool.

Serrice Council had written code that, once downloaded and integrated into her omni-tool, allowed her to quickly have the mini-fabrication unit create a Rìběn tóuzhí de míngxīng [日本投擲的明星]—a Japanese throwing star. She could reset the parameters of the fabricated star, from a six-pointed star to the four-bladed weapon she favored over most all of them. The length of the razor-sharp edge of each blade ensured the target would receive injuries when the star hit. If the spinning star glanced off her intended target, the blades would slice whatever they touched; if her throw was accurate, the leading edge of a single blade would penetrate the target and stick there. In either instance, the fast-acting synthetic neurotoxin embedded in the white-hot ceramic material would almost instantly induce respiratory paralysis to stifle any screams for help, followed by heart failure in the unfortunate victim.

She had honed her skills with her omni-tool to the point where she virtually only needed to think of what she wanted to do. In this case, with her arm bent at a 45° angle while holding her hand straight out, first two fingers touching her thumb, she merely had to make an overhand throwing motion with a follow-through release of her fingers for the tool to instantly fabricate and launch a shuriken. In this manner, she could throw one every two seconds.

Quite by accident, Xiùlán discovered she could generate and toss a shuriken horizontally. By holding her forearm across her chest, hand folded down towards her body with fingertips pointing to the rear, she could accurately fling a spinning star a much greater distance—the star actually flew aerodynamically, particularly in a thick atmosphere.

Xiùlán had thought a star wouldn't be able to penetrate armor plates; she was thrilled to discover the weapon would penetrate any exposed 'under-armor' skin—those portions of a person's armor that could be seen between the actual plates. Shoulder joints were the most exposed, but a person throwing an arm up to shield their face could be hit in the portion of the forearm not covered by a gauntlet plate, or in an armpit. Any of these penetrations would result in a quick death for anyone unfortunate enough to be so targeted.

After four hours of killing computer generated enemies, Xiùlán felt comfortable using this new method of silent death, but knew she would need to continue practicing every chance she could get. After dialing back the environmental controls and deleting Traynor's program, she headed to her quarters. A hot shower followed by lunch with Samantha would give her a chance to talk about their upcoming graduation and short vacation. It would be good to be back on Earth again, even if it was only going to be for a few short weeks.

• HAN SYSTEM, GEMINI SIGMA •

Septivus Vulpez knew he only had minutes to act before the freighter on which he was a passenger was boarded by pirates hell-bent on killing the crew and taking every last bit of cargo on board. That he and his archeological treasures were the only cargo on board would probably not be looked on with any pleasure by whomever had attacked the MV Crystal Scarab.

He quickly placed the Janiri figurine in a specially padded case and sealed it against the environment. Attaching the case to the sealed container holding Matriarch Dilinaga's texts, he finished attaching the armor plates to his suit, then pulled on his helmet and sealed it. Slinging the carrying strap for the container over his shoulder, he picked up his ERCS Banshee assault rifle, activated its auto-targeting feature and set it to fire three round bursts through its partially silenced muzzle before parking his backup, a Striker X pistol, in the dock at his left hip. Septivus was damned if he was going to be captured or killed by pirates without a fight … he'd spent too many years in the turian military to let himself be so easily taken.

Septivus felt the shudder as what he guessed was the attacking ship approached close enough to penetrate the Scarab's kinetic barriers … he estimated he had only a few minutes to get to the lower reaches of the virtually empty hanger where his personal shuttle was stored. His shuttle was FTL capable, but did not have the range he needed to reach all the systems he wished to explore, which was why he had employed the Crystal Scarab. If he could get to his shuttle and launch it without being detected, he felt he could make it to the Mass Relay and return to the Hades Gamma cluster.

Quickly looking around his small living area, Septivus made sure there were no obvious signs of his occupancy before he left and headed down the corridor for the cargo area. The pirates would learn of his presence soon enough once they had the manifests with the records of his payments. Eschewing the main elevator for a crew ladder in an adjacent access tube, he descended to the lower engineering level, which would quickly take him to the main hanger housing the freighter's shuttle and his own personal shuttle.

He heard shouts of anger and fear behind him, followed by the sounds of gunfire. Thinking, Spirits! Bastards have already boarded! he readied his assault rifle as he paused, his back to the left bulkhead outside the hatch leading into the small hanger. Taking a deep breath as he actuated his personal shield generator, Septivus let it out as he triggered the haptic lock to open the hatch and rolled around towards the opening, allowing his Banshee to lead the way.

He reflexively pulled the trigger, sending three combination shredder/proton rounds into a batarian raising his heavy pistol to answer the threat implied by the opening hatch; Vulpez viciously kicked the pirate in his mid-section, knocking the dying batarian to the deck as he reset his aim and fired again. His second three-round burst literally took the head off his buddy as he was attempting to discover why his companion had fallen.

Septivus knew his good fortune wouldn't last forever, so was not surprised when a pair of bullets penetrated his kinetic barrier and buried themselves in the armor covering his left upper arm and shoulder. The inertia spun him around and dropped him to the deck, where he quickly scrambled to his knees; bringing the Banshee up, he blindly pointed it in the general direction of his assailant and began repeatedly pulling the trigger, spraying three-round bursts through the hanger until one found the pirate that had shot him. The batarian screamed an obscenity as he attempted to recover from the impact and bring his pistol back up, allowing Septivus the time he needed to take more careful aim and fire once again; the pirate silently died before his body finished collapsing to the deck.

Septivus looked quickly about as he shifted his assault rifle to his left hand so he could take a quick look at his arm and shoulder. While the rounds hadn't entirely penetrated either ceramic plate, they had transmitted all their inertia to his body. He expected he'd be quite sore for a time; at least he'd be alive to complain about it.

Taking another quick look around the hanger, Vulpez shifted his weapon back to his right hand and set off for his shuttle, parked in a rear corner behind the Scarab's own shuttle. Unfortunately, the batarians had turned a small pack of Varren loose on the ship as soon as they boarded; Septivus found out the hard way just how quiet a Varren could be as he moved past the gap between the two parked shuttles. The creature leaped out at him as he walked past the stern of the Scarab's shuttle, clamping down on his left lower leg with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. The turian cursed his ill fortune as he fell towards the attack; the creature let go and yelped in surprise as Vulpez's full weight came down hard on the back of the foul-smelling creature.

Once again, his hard-plates prevented major injuries, but some of the teeth had penetrated his under-armor in a most painful way. With the Varren mindlessly squirming underneath in an attempt to get out from under his former victim, Septivus quickly switched his Banshee to full-auto, placed the muzzle as close to the Varren's head as possible and pulled the trigger.

The Varren's cries of surprise and pain died as quickly as it did, allowing Septivus to roll off to a sitting position on the deck. Shock was making him feel faint and nauseated, and while his blood loss was minimal, he needed a few moments to collect his wits before he could continue. After a liberal application of medigel, he managed to regain his feet and limp to the entry hatch of his shuttle.

His thoughts now on escaping with his life, he failed to notice the small container housing the Janiri figurine was no longer attached to the case containing the Matriarchal texts; he opened the hatch and quickly dropped everything he was carrying in the rear compartment. Septivus eased his injured leg under the control deck as he gingerly sat in the pilot's seat, closed and sealed the hatch. Feeling a bit safer behind the deeply tinted quartz-glass canopy, he began running an abbreviated pre-flight checklist, initiated the start sequence for the small mass effect core, then brought the environmental pumps and fans online. With everything running, he eased the small ship off the deck, slid it sideways and spun it around to face the hanger door, which had already begun to open. As he applied thrusters to approach the opening he saw nothing but the emptiness of the void outside; the pirates had apparently docked their ship at the forward airlock, above and behind him.

Septivus eased the small ship out of the hanger and past the kinetic barrier; once clear, he turned so his nose was aimed away from the Crystal Scarab in such a way that he kept that ship's belly to his stern. Knowing he was not able to outrun the pirate ship if they chose to follow, he added throttle to increase his velocity so he could put as much distance between himself and the stricken freighter as possible, and didn't attempt to alter his course until he was a good 5000 kilometers away from his former transport. Cutting his thrusters, he spun the vessel around on its axis so he could take a look behind as momentum continued to propel the tiny vessel on its original course.

Looking at the point in the blackness his sensors told him was the freighter's location, he could see nothing, until a brilliant flash flared then slowly faded as glowing debris streaked away in all directions from the explosion's epicenter, indicating the Crystal Scarab had met its ultimate destiny. Septivus flared his mandibles as he thought of the salarian Captain and his crew. Returning his gaze to the dying light, he offered a silent prayer to the Spirits of his ancestors as he plotted and engaged a course for the Mass Relay. There was nothing more to be done for the salarian freighter or its crew, except report the loss to authorities as soon as he could—something he would only attempt to do when he was safely in Citadel space.

Captain Kryllê Ghydgryz rotated the small figurine in his hands this way and that, admiring the way it reflected the overhead lights. A turian, judging by the blood left behind, had killed three members of his boarding party and a trained Varren as he … or she … escaped from the freighter. The figurine in his hands was the only other thing left behind. Despite being quite hideous in appearance, it could bring a fair number of credits, perhaps even enough to offset the cost of sacking a freighter with absolutely no other cargo aboard, but only if he could sell it to the right buyer. That buyer, if the appearance of the figurine was any indication, would have to be an asari; of primary concern to Ghydgryz however, the buyer would have to be very well off financially.

A/N: This chapter is somewhat a prologue for the events that will take place on Cartagena Station in the Nemean Abyss … stay tuned!