When a pirate grows rich enough, they make him a prince. — George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings
Butterfly Sword – [traditional Chinese: 蝴蝶雙刀; pinyin: húdié shuāngdāo] – a short dao, or single-edged sword, usually wielded in pairs.
Generally called 'butterfly knives' in English (not to be confused with the folding balisong, or fan knife, also commonly called a butterfly knife.)
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
Siame – "one who is all" ··· a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian)
Simulacrum – [sim-yuh-ley-kruh m] — an effigy, image, or representation
• ALLIANCE SPEC OPS TRAINING FACILITY, MARS · 04 APRIL 2180 •
Traynor and Yuán had been practicing for a solid three hours—both were soaked with sweat, hair dripping and clinging to their scalps, wisps of vapor rising from their clothing. Xiùlán was instructing Samantha in the use of the Nángùn [南棍] or southern staff, a polished, two-meter long white wax wooden staff. Useful in close quarters combat, Xiùlán's purpose in teaching its use to Sam was to enable her to incorporate it into her daily physical exercises. Traynor had started out tentatively mirroring each of Xiùlán's moves; gaining confidence with each passing minute, she was now moving as quickly as her inamorata.
Xiùlán next faced Sam and demonstrated how to fend off an attack; moving slowly at first, she kept increasing the speed of her moves, backing Sam around the practice room. For her part, Sam had taken to this new weapon quite readily, instinctively blocking more and more of Xiùlán's attacks; at some point, she went on the offensive and began forcing her teacher back. Traynor was beginning to feel like she was making real progress when it happened—Xiùlán seamlessly shifted back to offensive moves. Rapidly parrying three of Sam's blows, she sharply rapped the knuckles of Sam's left hand on the fourth return, followed by a swift hit to her right; this brought on a howl of pain and a stream of curses as injured digits allowed the staff to clatter to the mat.
"Yeeeoww! Sonovabitch! That hurts like all holy fuckin' 'ell, Yuán!" Sam had her arms across her chest, each hand tucked between opposite upper arms and torso as she jumped and skipped around the floor in a paroxysm of pain. "You broke all my goddamn fingers!"
Xiùlán grinned at her as Sam continued to dance about and curse. "I barely tapped you, Sà mi. You probably hurt your knuckles worse when you busted Joesiar's chops for 'im!"
Sam had stopped hopping about long enough to extract her hands from under her arms so she could inspect her knuckles. "Lookit! Bleeding like a ruddy stuck pig, I am!" She grimaced as she flexed her fingers and loudly cried, "Shit! They're all busted, Xiùlán! Look what you did to me!"
Xiùlán was beginning to doubt her self-assured assessment as she came up to Traynor and reached for her hands; she realized her mistake the instant Sam used those hands to grab both edges of her tunic at the middle of her chest and fall backwards while pulling with a strength Xiùlán had clearly forgotten she possessed; Traynor continued to pull Yuán with her as she fell backwards, lifting her bare feet to catch Xiùlán at her hips, then violently straightening her legs with all the power stored in the corded muscles of her butt, thighs and calves.
Xiùlán was unpleasantly surprised to find herself flying across the room, and even more stunned when she crashed upside down into the far wall; she had just enough presence of mind to raise her arms in order to partially break her fall, as she slid to the floor in an embarrassed heap—much like an asari she herself had once tossed in nearly the same manner.
Groaning in pain, she opened her eyes, only to see the upside-down face of her paramour gazing down at her, the expression on her face a cross between genuine concern and a self-satisfied smirk. "Damn," Sam stated before offering an observation. "That looked like it might have hurt. Sorry about that!"
Sam straightened up and returned to the place on the mat where she had dropped her Nángùn; using the toes of her left foot to lift her staff up in front of her, she caught it and used both hands to rapidly rotate it three times—once in front of her chest, around her left to once behind her back then around her right side to finish in front—before placing the end on the floor to her right with a muffled THUD; she then kneeled with her butt on the heels of her feet, toes bent upwards so the tips remained on the floor, and waited.
Xiùlán painfully regained her feet and gingerly drifted around Sam. Retrieving her own Nángùn, she moved back in the opposite direction to stand in front of Traynor; after several seconds, Xiùlán dropped to her knees, mirroring Sammy's position in front of her, staff held vertically to her left side, and bowed deeply. Body upright once more, she intoned solemnly, "I will have to pray to my revered ancestors for forgiveness, Samantha Traynor, for I have created a guàiwù [怪物], a monster, all the more dangerous for her shy demeanor … and her deceptive beauty."
"I am no more dangerous than you, my love—probably much less so, except … " Sam hesitated, her previously snarky expression becoming deadly serious.
Xiùlán cocked her head left and asked in a soft voice, "Yes? …"
"Except … when it comes down to protecting you, wo de ài [我的愛 – my love]. I would lay down my life for you, Xiùlán, without hesitation. Never …" her voice hitched. Swallowing hard, she continued in a firm whisper as a single tear escaped and slid down a brown cheek flushed from three-plus hours of intense exercise, "never doubt that for a moment!"
"Then … I will also pray I never need you to prove that, Sà mi …" Xiùlán rose slightly, placed her free hand on the mat between Traynor's legs and leaned in towards her until their lips brushed before finishing with a whispered, "because I cannot conceive of any future for me that does not include you." Xiùlán tilted her head as she pressed her lips against Sam's, kissing her in confirmation of the depth of devotion she felt for her.
Sam returned the kiss, even following a bit as Xiùlán drew back, then said, "Since we're both so banged up, why don't we call it a morning?" Sam whispered. "I think a cool shower would feel really good right now. You?"
"I'm with you, qīn'ài de [親愛的 – dear]. I'm also going to need some time in the sauna, maybe with a massage afterwards." Xiùlán grimaced as she regained her feet, swiveling her torso back and forth at the hips in an attempt to eradicate the kinks in her back and shoulders. "I think my entire back is twisted."
"At least your fingers aren't all busted and bleeding, Luv," Sam replied with a smirk, holding out her left hand for inspection.
"Damn! They really are bleeding! Sammy, I am truly sorry I hurt you … come on. Let's get some medigel on those knuckles." Xiùlán grabbed their gear bags with one hand and placed her free arm around Sam's back; with her hand on Sammy's arm at the shoulder, Xiùlán pulled her close. "You know, next time we practice, might be a good idea for you to wear your sparring gloves—keep those knuckles protected."
Carrying both staffs, Traynor melted into the strong embrace of her lover as they left the practice room and responded quietly, "Lesson learned, Luv … painfully so."
• PRESIDIUM, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM — 10 JULY 2180 •
It had taken twelve days for Septivus Vulpez to reach the Citadel from the Han System, where the freighter on which he was a passenger had been attacked by batarian pirates. He considered himself fortunate to have escaped the Crystal Scarab before its destruction by an explosion.
His personal transport, actually a repurposed, highly modified Kodiak shuttlecraft, was a meter wider and half again as long overall as the standard Kodiaks the Alliance Navy used for troop deployments. The downside to the increased size and weight was the required refueling after each relay transit; this slowed his progress through the systems and relays. Impeding his progress even further was the necessity to avoid contact with other vessels until he reached the Widow System—the pirates that had destroyed the Crystal Scarab were still out there, most likely in the Hades Gamma cluster.
The turian did not believe his personal transport had been seen aboard the Scarab; the three pirates he encountered in the hanger had not survived their introduction to him, and he had used the freighter's hull as a screen during his escape. Septivus Vulpez had survived this long by never being reckless.
He was on his way to a meeting with asari councilor Raesia Tevos, to whom he would present the contents of the case he was carrying on his shoulder. Septivus had originally set out to recover the Matriarchal writings and artifacts as a profit-making venture, but during the course of his travels and discoveries, he had come to the conclusion it would be better to donate everything he recovered to the asari government. He hoped they would offer to reimburse him for his travel expenses, but would not request that of them.
Unfortunately, he would also need to tell Councilor Tevos of what he had lost during his escape … worse, he feared the 2500-to-3000 year old figurine of the asari goddess of seasons, storms, and agriculture, carved from a single piece of now-extinct Thessian Bolan wood and standing approximately 40 Cm high, was now in the possession of the batarian pirates that had destroyed the Crystal Scarab. That was his fear, but also his hope! If the figurine had not been discovered and retrieved by the pirates prior to the freighter's destruction, it had become part of the debris cloud that was all that remained of the Crystal Scarab.
He sighed heavily as he entered the councilor's reception area. The asari sitting behind the high counter instantly stood to greet him … Septivus could not help but notice she kept her arms to her sides, recognizing that she was purposely keeping her hands hidden, just in case he turned out to be less than friendly. He stopped half-a-meter from the counter and carefully placed both hands on the strap in front of his chest.
"Septivus Vulpez," he said. "I have an appointment to speak with the councilor?"
Dalis Shegos tilted her head in polite acknowledgement as she quietly notified Matron Tevos. After a few moments, Dalis returned her gaze to the turian in front of her and said, "Councilor Tevos will see you now, Sir." Indicating an entryway past the end of the counter to her right she continued, "Please, enter through this door."
Septivus flared his mandibles as he nodded and thanked her before moving towards the door, which opened just before he could reach out for the haptic interface. Standing just within was another asari, dressed in the leathers of an elite commando—most likely the councilor's personal body guard.
"Greetings, Sir. I am Huntress Nizia Tenir, and it is my honor to serve as First to Matron Tevos. I apologize, but I must ask you to relinquish your travel case for inspection before I can allow you to approach the councilor."
"First? Is that like … a body guard?"
"It is that, and so much more," Nizia replied evenly. "May I examine the case?"
Realizing this asari could—and would—cut him down in the blink of an eye, he carefully released the strap from the case, then attempted to hand both items to her.
Nizia raised both hands, pale blue palms facing him as she said, "Please set them on the side table beside you and step back, Sir."
After doing as instructed, he said, "Please be careful with the contents, Huntress Tenir … they are incredibly old." Nizia nodded to him as she cautiously scanned the entire outside of the case for asari specific poisons and any explosive residue, before carefully opening the cover enough to peer into the container. Wrinkling her nose at the stack of musty papers within, she scanned these as well before gingerly reclosing the case. She then finished by scanning the carry-strap for the same dangers.
Apologizing again, she asked him to raise his arms so she could perform a quick search for any weapons he might have hidden on his person. Does she really think I would attempt to bring a weapon into this place? he thought as she ran a U–shaped wand over his body, arms and legs from top to bottom; the device trilled as Nizia moved it past the inner jacket pocket carrying his datapad. She wordlessly held out a hand as Septivus slowly and carefully retrieved the device for her inspection. Now satisfied this turian was as harmless as he appeared, she allowed him to retrieve the case and datapad and asked him to follow her into the councilor's office.
Walking past a sizable sitting area off to the right, the huntress led him to the back of the room, where a large desk was positioned in front of an enormous window looking out over the Presidium lake. Councilor Tevos rose from her own chair in greeting, offered Septivus a chair and asked if he would care for anything to drink.
"Water will be just fine, please." It was less than a minute before Dalis appeared with a tray bearing a filled pitcher and several medium size glasses; she set the tray on a nearby side table, filled a glass and brought it to their guest.
Septivus thanked Dalis as he accepted the glass, took several sips, then placed it back on the tray and got down to business. "Councilor, I have been on a multi-system quest since the beginning of the year." He carefully set the large carrier flat on her desk. "That quest has now led me to you; I believe you will be pleased with the artifacts I have recovered."
Aware that Nizia was standing within arm's reach behind him, Septivus leaned over the front cover as he released its fasteners and set it aside. "If you would care to inspect these papers, Madam Councilor?" Tevos gasped in amazement as she moved to stand beside her turian visitor; his sub-harmonics suggested amusement as he acknowledged her shock. "I see you recognize what it took me seven months to recover."
Raesia Tevos had seen similar documents in the museums on Thessia, always at a distance, locked behind sheets of clear quartz in a climate controlled display case. She had never been this close to anything so … old, so … historically significant. "Are these …" she looked up at Septivus and accepted the proffered metal pincers. "… original?" As she gently turned the top page over, then lifted the archival paper to expose the next ancient page, a single tear ran down her cheek.
Quickly realizing all the documents in the case were penned by the same author, she quietly commented, "These appear to be some of the notes made by Matriarch Dilinaga during the golden age of exploration." Tevos was incredulous. "Nizia, come, take a look." The huntress quietly moved to stand at the end of the desk to keep from presenting her back to Septivus while she looked in wide-eyed wonder at what this turian had brought to them.
"I was privileged to have seen the Dilinaga exhibit at the Farinah Museum, Councilor." Septivus retook his seat by the desk as Tevos and Huntress Tenir continued to carefully … almost reverently … inspect the contents of the case. "It made an impression on me … I have always been interested in history, particularly ancient history, and upon learning there might be more of the Matriarch's writings lost throughout the galaxy, I knew I had to see what I could do to track them down and retrieve them."
Tevos looked up at her Turian guest, respect shining in her eyes as doubt clouded her expression. "What you have done … what you have brought us is … priceless, Sir. The wealth of our entire civilization would not be sufficient recompense for these treasures." Tevos returned to the chair behind her desk as Huntress Tenir carefully restored all the pages and separators to their original order in the travel case. "So, what can we do for you, Septivus Vulpez? What do you desire from the asari?"
"I seek no reward or payment for recovering Matriarch Dilinaga's writings, Councilor. I will also give you all the information I have concerning the locations where I found each of the pages and treatises before you … hopefully, your archaeologists and historians will then be able to trace Matriarch Dilinaga's travels in much more detail." Activating his omnitool, he placed all the information gathered about the texts, along with the figurine he had lost, onto an OSD. Removing it from his omnitool, he leaned forward and placed the small disk on top of the travel case, then said in a quiet voice, the flanging of his tone sounding infinitely dejected. "There is one more thing you need to know."
Once again retrieving the datapad from his jacket pocket, he explained as he activated the device, "The particulars of what I am going to show you are also included on that OSD." Setting the datapad to display all the information and still photos of the Janiri figurine he had lost during his escape from the Crystal Scarab, he continued, "I had this in my hands, Madam Councilor. Probably one of the most important discoveries of the past ten centuries …" he brought up his hands for emphasis, "and I actually held it in my hands." Septivus handed the datapad to Tevos and hung his head as he thought about what he had lost. "I am so sorry. It was … is … absolutely magnificent and it literally slipped through my hands, probably during my fight with one of their trained Varren. I didn't notice it was gone until I was refueling in the Hades Gamma Cluster."
Tevos swallowed hard as she studied the still images and explanations Septivus had provided. "Goddess … it does not seem possible such a thing still exists. Its value would exceed that of all of the texts you have presented to us today. Bolan wood, you say? And it appears from these photos to be in excellent condition." Tevos ran out of words.
"It was rumored to have been carved from a solid piece of Thessian metamorphic rock in the one copy of the treatises that mentioned it; it would have stood no more than 50 centimeters high, Madam Councilor. This one was carved from the wood of a Bolan tree, and is quite possibly the only one of its kind in existence. I believe the figurine survives and is most likely about to be sold by the batarian captain of the pirate vessel that attacked us."
Septivus hung his head at the thought. "He had three of his crew stationed in the freighter's hanger, and would have sent someone to retrieve them before destroying the ship. They most assuredly would have retrieved it, and they no doubt suspect a turian killed their three crewmates, just from the blood I left behind." Septivus' leg was still itching from the varren bites he'd suffered. "I expect he will be lining up sales brokers, the well-heeled, those that can afford to pay for such an object."
"This object is priceless! Who could afford to pay for such?" Tevos asked rhetorically.
Septivus flared his mandibles, a tone of regret sounding in his sub-harmonics. "Priceless to you, Councilor … and to me. That batarian will never have to work another day in his life, and the figurine … an object that rightfully belongs to the asari people at the very least, if not to the people of the galaxy, will be lost to us forever, secreted away in some private collection." Septivus fell silent for a few moments, the enormity of the loss, his failure, weighing as heavily on him as if he was a citizen of Thessia.
Tevos handed the datapad to Nizia so she too could see what had been lost to the batarians. "I don't know what to say. To see images of this object, to meet the person that recovered it … is all a bit overwhelming. Do you have the time and date … and the location … of the attack on your freighter?"
Septivus looked up and quickly responded, "That information is also on the OSD, Madam Councilor."
"Then it may be possible to extrapolate the destination … the ports of call … of that pirate ship after the date of the attack. Your freighter … totally destroyed?"
"I witnessed the explosion from a safe distance … virtually nothing left but dust."
"Then your quest has come to an end, has it not? What will you do now, Septivus Vulpez?"
The turian chuckled as he answered. "I'm not really sure. I had not expected my quest to end so abruptly … or violently. I still have enough credits to travel to Sur'Kesh … I need to inform the Salarian shipping consortium of the Crystal Scarab's loss. Captain Uzor Saelon and his crew were good people … their families need to know what happened to them. After that, I'll probably return to Palaven. Not sure what I will do once I return." Septivus flared his mandibles as he shrugged his shoulders, a human expression of uncertainty he'd picked up while working with a young lieutenant in the Alliance Navy.
Tevos looked intently at the turian for several seconds before standing and placing her hands on her desk. "I presume that, since you have all the facts concerning your travels on this OSD, you have also entered the amounts you had to pay for passage aboard the salarian freighter, as well as all your expenses for fuel and food?"
Septivus was a bit embarrassed by the councilor's directness, but returned her gaze and nodded as he simply responded, "Yes, I did."
"Then I believe the asari ruling council will not object to me reimbursing you for your travel expenses." Placing a hand on the case containing the treasures from an age long past, she added, "It's the least we can do for you, considering your brush with death at the hands of those pirates."
Tevos returned to her chair and looked at the turian for several moments … long enough for Septivus to start getting fidgety under her direct scrutiny. "You say you are unsure of what you will do after you return to Palaven?" she asked. "Perhaps you should consider traveling to Thessia instead."
"To what purpose, Madam Councilor?"
"If you wish it of me, I will provide you with a letter of introduction to the Thessia Guildhall, in which I will request support for you to lead a new expedition." Waving her hand at the case, she added, "You obviously have the skills … and your results certainly cannot be denied."
Septivus almost could not believe his good fortune! "That would be most kind of you, Madam Councilor. It would be nice to have the opportunity to finish what I started."
"Then you will have a copy by tomorrow morning," Tevos replied as she retrieved the OSD from atop the case. She then handed the case to the huntress and said, "Place that in our most secure storage area, Nizia. We'll have the next diplomatic shuttle take it to the home world. Meanwhile," she paused as she again looked at Septivus. "I will save you the time and fuel it would cost you to travel to Sur'Kesh. As the salarian councilor's office is just down the passageway, I will inform Councilor Valern of the loss of the Crystal Scarab and its crew, but … " the asari paused for a moment, then added " … I am sure Valern will want details about the attack. Your association with that freighter will have to be made known, particularly since you survived the encounter."
Nizia ventured to speak, saying in a low voice, "Knowing Councilor Valern, he will be most suspicious about this, Madam Councilor. You informing him of the loss of that freighter will make it difficult to guide his thinking away from the belief that the asari employed this turian to search for ancient artifacts."
"So what if our people did employ him for this quest, Nizia?" Tevos asked. "It's not as if we hired the pirates that destroyed that freighter."
"In point of fact, Madam Councilor," Septivus interrupted apologetically, "I recovered a League of One medallion from a long dead merc on Nonuel, in the Hades Gamma Cluster. I had planned to turn it over to the salarian antiquities minister when I reached Sur'Kesh."
"No possible good could come from you traveling to Sur'Kesh at this time, Septivus Vulpez," Tevos replied quietly. "The salarians would most certainly imprison you until your lack of involvement in the loss of that ship could be independently corroborated. Better you remain on the Citadel for now until we can speak with Valern."
Placing the OSD in the reader on her desk, she scrolled rapidly through the information until she came to the expense listing for the turian's expedition. "I will see to the transfer of credits to your account within a day, Septivus." She looked at the chrono display on her terminal. Activating her omnitool, she made several entries, resulting in Septivus' omnitool self-activating. "It is growing late. I have transferred enough credits for you to stay at a hotel that caters to turians, particularly their specialized diets, here on the Presidium. My aide will contact you in the morning concerning the time and place for our meeting with Councilor Valern … you may present the League of One medallion to him at that time."
"That is all most kind of you, Madam Councilor." Septivus stood to leave. "It has been a pleasure visiting with you today." He bowed, then nodded to Nizia, who responded as he left, "Goddess go with you, Septivus Vulpez."
• COMBAT TRAINING SIMULATOR · ALLIANCE SPEC-OPS TRAINING FACILITY — 30 APRIL 2180 •
Samantha Traynor had been learning the techniques required to master the use a Liuyè dāo—literally, a willow leaf sabre—for close combat. The sword Xiùlán had loaned her had a continuously curved, razor sharp blade with a sharpened back edge about a third of its 95.6 centimeter length; the hilt was canted—that is, slightly curved in the opposite direction of the blade—this improved handling of the sword in some forms of cuts and thrusts, and made it easier to reverse her grip in order to use the blade for slashing.
Her opponents were computer generated simulacrums, combinations of the worst traits of human and batarian enemies, so ugly they even hurt one's eyes.
She had amassed six confirmed kills as she hacked her way through a simulated jungle environment. The temperature and humidity were set quite high to add to the discomfort level of the students using the facility; the enemies' intelligence level was set high for the same reason.
Her goal was simple—survival. Traynor had to make it through the hundred meter by 75 meter exercise yard, filled with massive trees, bushes, muddy creeks and saw-edged grasses, while dodging or engaging simulated enemies. She had moved perhaps ten meters from her last kill when she heard it—the sound of tree bark being rubbed by an object clad in armor. She instantly crouched and used her right hand to firmly grip the curved hilt of her dāo, protruding up past her right shoulder from the scabbard strapped to her backplate. Remaining crouched, she silently spun about in place, secure in the tall grass surrounding her. Facing back the way the sound had come from, she held her breath and waited.
The computer generated enemy soldiers were moving quietly, much more so than an organic enemy would have been able to achieve. She continued to wait until the first of the three stopped less than a meter from her position. As the simulacrum started towards her position, she leapt straight up from her crouched position, screaming at the top of her lungs as she swiftly pulled the saber from its scabbard and swung it in a right-to-left downwards arc in front of her. She felt the simulator-generated resistance to her sword that confirmed she had killed her seventh enemy by slicing it virtually in half.
The instant her feet touched the ground she leapt backwards, performing a back-flip to gain a bit of distance from the two other simulacrums now rushing her. Using her left hand, she pulled a modern Húdié dāo [蝴蝶刀– butterfly sword (knife in English)] from its calf-mounted sheath and used an uppercut thrust to partially bury the 5 millimeter thick, 24 centimeter blade in the middle of the enemy on her left. The simulacrum on her right raised a pistol towards her—as she yanked the short sword free of the enemy on her left, she crouched, spun around to the right and sliced through the gun-wielder's forearm with an uppercut from her sabre; this sent its forearm flying, along with the gun held by the now nerveless hand. Reversing her grip on the sword as she continued her rotation, she used the now rear-facing blade, held at an angle beside her forearm, to partially decapitate the newly one-armed simulacrum. As it began to fall the computer program dissolved its form, chalking up confirmed kill number eight.
The victim with the stab wound was attempting to regain its feet as she turned back to face it; once again reversing her grip on the sword, she whipped the blade around from behind her right side with enough speed to generate a whistling sound in the hot, humid air, removing the simulacrum's head to chalk up kill number nine. An alarm sounded, signaling the end of this training round.
Electing to carry her weapons, she started for the exit; less than two meters from the hatch, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise to full attention. Instantly motionless, she listened intently and was rewarded by the faint rustle of clothing behind and to her left. Activating her kinetic shield, she silently turned and waited.
Sam was surprised to find Yuán decloaking as she carefully walked towards her. "That was nicely done, Xiùlán … I almost didn't hear you. You keeping an eye on me?"
"In a manner of speaking. Instructors had a drone overhead, recording everything. Looks like you have become one with those weapons, darling. Remind me not to sneak up on you when you have that Húdié dāo strapped to your calf. Oh, you do know I'll need to train you to use two of them together, right? Where's your other one?"
Sam returned her sabre to the scabbard on her back as she answered, "I didn't bring it, Luv … I wanted a longer blade in my right hand." She crouched and returned her long knife—considered a short sword in Xiùlán's native China—to the sheath strapped to her calf. "So, I'm done for the day, right?" Traynor asked. "I could really use a shower and some food."
"Get cleaned up," Xiùlán replied. "We'll have a light lunch, study a bit, then I'll work with you on your technique using the Shuāng dāo." [雙 刀—double knife]
• OMEGA STATION · OMEGA NEBULA, SAHRABARIK SYSTEM — JUNE 2180 •
Captain Kryllê Ghydgryz walked warily through the dimly lit freight tunnel connecting the small hanger to the alleyway—one of many crisscrossing this level of the station—between a small business district and a warehouse and shipping area; it was the edge of the business district to which the batarian pirate was heading.
Activating the locator on his omnitool, he turned towards his left in order to follow the direction indicator, where he expected to meet a broker or a potential buyer for the small figurine found on the hanger deck of the MV Crystal Scarab, just before the ship was involved in a horrific accident.
Ghydgryz had not brought the figurine with him, nor was it on the shuttle he had left in the hanger. He had a copy of a vid on an OSD that showed every detail of the horrid-looking thing as he held it for display to prove he had possession of it; in this way he felt he'd be able to leave the meeting under his own power, rather than feet-first on an anti-grav cart.
His first meeting would be with a mid-level member of the mercenary Eclipse gang. If he couldn't make a deal with the Eclipse, he would move on to the Blue Suns. He stopped in front of a dilapidated looking saloon in response to a trill from his omnitool. The place appeared to literally be falling apart … even the name over the door had faded to the point it was undecipherable. Glancing quickly about, he cautiously entered and paused just inside the doorway to allow his eyes time to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Patrons sat in the shadows around the room, keeping their faces hidden as they glanced at the newcomer before quickly looking away.
Making up his mind, he slowly ambled over towards an empty table on his left and took a seat with his back towards the bar. He hadn't seen anyone here that appeared to belong to Eclipse, so he ordered a drink and settled back to wait.
Two turians came into the seedy bar while he nursed his drink. He was just about to order a second one when a hand reached over his shoulder to place a glass full of green liquid on the table. Attempting to cover his surprise at being so oblivious to a possible attack from behind, he shoved the glass to the other side of the small table as he looked around and up at the person standing there.
"Evening … name's Ugrolya Rarfenak. You here to meet somebody?"
Ghydgryz answered as the batarian came around in front of him, "Am I that obvious?"
"Not really," Ugrolya replied. Motioning to the chair, he asked, "May I?"
"Sure. May as well be comfortable while you … " Ghydgryz indicated the glass of green liquid, " … enjoy your drink."
Rarfenak eased his body down on the chair, picked up the glass and took a sip. "Wouldn't want you to think I was trying to poison you. What'd you say your name was?"
"I didn't … I'd prefer to remain anonymous, if you don't mind. You Eclipse?"
"Keep your voice down! Not a lot of friendly people in this dump." Ugrolya turned the glass up, gulping the rest of the green liquid straight down. "Shit's so watered down, can't even tell what kind of booze it's supposed to be," Ugrolya complained. "Anyway, word is you have an ancient artifact for sale. Questions are, how ancient, and how much?"
Ghydgryz pulled out his datapad, set it to loop the vid of him standing beside an advertising display showing a date/time chrono as he held the figurine and handed it to Rarfenak. "Ugly thing. Supposed to be Janiri, asari goddess of seasons, storms, and agriculture. Estimated age is 20 centuries or so. How much? Find the right collector, you can name your price. I'm not a collector. I need sixty-five million, deposited in my account, verified by my banker before I give you the access card and location of the strongbox where I stashed it."
Ugrolya glanced at Kryllê then returned his attention to the datapad. "Ugly is right! What makes you think this thing is worth even sixty-five creds, much less sixty-five million?"
"Figurine was found on Mavigon in Gemini Sigma. Made from Bolan wood, a single piece. Tree is extinct … hasn't been seen anywhere in the known galaxy for centuries. I've done some research into ancient asari history. That figurine is in perfect condition, as if it had just been carved yesterday, and there simply isn't any of that wood available anywhere, even as scraps."
Rarfenak raised his empty glass and wiggled it at the young batarian waitress; she approached them and smiled as she picked up the empty glass and wiped the table. "Can I bring you another Batarian ale, sir?"
"Only if you have some that hasn't been cut, sweetheart," Ugrolya responded with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I like to actually taste the alcohol I'm paying for."
The smile on the waitress's face vanished. "I don't … I'm not sure, that is … "
Ugrolya cut off her stammering reply. "Listen, doll, there must be a barrel behind the bar containing your main supply … the stuff delivered by your broker? Simply draw a glass from that barrel instead of the tap at the bar that mixes in whatever the owner is using to cut the ale." Ugrolya held up a five-credit chit. "This is for you, if I can get a glass of uncut ale … okay?" Drawing his hand back as she reached for the chit like a greedy child, he added, "Soon as I taste what's in the glass you bring me … not before."
She frowned as she turned and returned to the bar.
Kryllê followed her with his eyes as he observed, "Not going to win you any points. You'll be fortunate if she doesn't piss in it just to spite you."
"Wouldn't be the first time … probably won't be the last," he said in a contemplative voice. "If it's cold and has the right amount of alcohol in it, there won't be enough piss in it to make a difference."
Ugrolya looked at the datapad one last time before handing it back to Kryllê. "No promises. Give me two days to shop this around. You have stills without your face?"
Ghydgryz put the datapad away and activated his omnitool; after making several entries, the tool produced an OSD. "Just the figurine, same chronometer showing date and time," Ghydgryz said as he handed the OSD to Ugrolya. "Price isn't negotiable. I took a huge loss my last trip out. Oh, and your fee? Add it to the asking price … I get sixty-five, regardless of what you get for brokering this deal."
Standing to leave, he added, "Contact information is on the OSD. If I don't hear from you in three days, I'm back to Harsa." He turned and walked out of the bar, failing to notice the resentful gaze of the waitress bringing Ugrolya's glass of ale.
A/N: My apologies for any confusion created by the back and forth time-jumps. There are three different things happening at different times: Traynor and Yuán continue their education in their special operations school on Mars. The batarian pirate captain is attempting to sell the asari figurine, and Septivus Vulpez has reached the Citadel, well after the events on Omega Station. All of this will come together after our ladies graduate from their SpecOps school. Stay tuned …