For Chinese people, when it comes to parents, nothing is negotiable. Your parents are your parents, you owe everything to them (even if you don't), and you have to do everything for them (even if it destroys your life). — Amy Chua
• CITY of SHANGHAI · CHINA, EARTH — 16 SEPTEMBER 2180 •
Samantha Traynor and Yuán Xiùlán, after graduating at the top of their class from the Alliance-run Special Ops program carried out over an intense twenty months on Earth's moon and on Mars, had spent ten tranquil days on a white sand beach and ten very peaceful nights in a vacation condo nestled on the north shore of Kauai, northernmost of the Hawaiian islands chain in the North Pacific Ocean. Yuán was now a Service Chief in the Alliance Navy; Traynor's promotion to Serviceman 1st Class had come as they were transferred to Mars for the rest of their training, just as they had been promised by General RaeLee Park, nearly a year ago at the end of their classes at the Alliance Moon Base facility.
While on Kauai, the pair had tried windsurfing, gone on two different guided hiking tours, even went snorkeling, interspersing the activities with long, hand-in-hand walks on the beach, simply enjoying each other's company as they watched the ocean waves rolling ashore. Their time together seemed to fly by, surprising them both when it was time to leave.
From Kauai, they'd flown to the port city of Shanghai, Xiùlán's home. Xiùlán had taken Sammy to meet her parents and grandmother, who were all very welcoming of their daughter's new friend at first, particularly when she presented each of them with a small, gift-wrapped present. Only Xiùlán's grandmother's welcome dimmed significantly when it became clear Samantha was more than simply a friend to Xiùlán, who tried to explain how she and Sà mǐ had fallen in love. Traynor attempted to follow the Mandarin language conversation, managing to catch a word here and there, none of them good, mostly when either Chaoxiang—Xiùlán's father—or Xiuying—her grandmother—were glaring at her, their formerly welcoming manner having nearly vanished.
Xiùlán's mother appeared to be a bit more understanding; her father and his mom, not so much … it sounded to Sam as if their chief concern was Xiùlán's inability to bear any children from the union, as the words 'yīng'ér' and 'háizimen' [嬰兒 and 孩子 - baby, child] were frequently heard. Sam, fully realizing she was committing a serious breach of etiquette, finally placed an arm in front of Xiùlán to gently interrupt their quiet discussion; all three of the elders stared at her as is she had suddenly appeared from thin air, but Sam was not deterred as she carefully addressed Xiùlán's father in halting Mandarin, "Wo ài ni de nü'ér, xiānshēng." [我愛你的女兒，先生。– I love your daughter, Sir.] Placing a hand on Xiùlán's shoulder, she added, "Tā jiùle wo de mìng. [她救了我的命。– She saved my life.] Zhè shì wo you yītiān huì chánghuán de zhàiwù." [這是我有一天會償還的債務。– This is the debt that I will repay one day.]
Sam brought her hands together in front of her, fingertips under her chin, and bowed slightly to the three before turning to leave. She felt terrible to be the cause of Xiùlán's apparent rift with her parents and grandmother, and wanted to leave before she did any more damage to that relationship. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. In a soft, surprisingly musical sounding voice, Yuán Lì húa said, "Qing bùyào qù, sà màn shā." [請不要去，薩曼莎。– Please don't go, Samantha.]
Sam turned around to find Lì húa, eyes moist with emotion, asking her to please stay. Sam bent down slightly as she wrapped her arms around the tiny woman in a gentle hug; she looked up to see Yuán Chaoxiang solemnly standing beside his mother, with Xiùlán standing behind them both, a faint smile on her face. Grandmother and parents may have been disappointed in their daughter's choice for a mate, but had quickly decided Xiùlán's happiness was all that really mattered, and had seen and heard the utter sincerity in Samantha's expression of love for her. What had started out as a tense confrontation between ancestors and daughter had ended, if not in a totally enjoyable visit, at least in a visit free from any strife.
The next morning during breakfast, Xiùlán told her mother of Sam's prowess in hand-to-hand combat, relating the story of Sam's final meeting with Joesiar and his minions; both parents and grandmother had expressed surprise and grudging admiration for Sam's abilities after watching video of the encounter on Xiùlán's omnitool. The fact that Sam had learned all she knew from Xiùlán had her mom nodding in understanding, as she had been her daughter's instructor for many years.
Lì húa took it upon herself to help Samantha hone her technique with her nángùn, waking before breakfast to exercise beside her daughter's protégé and teach some of the more advanced moves with the two-meter long staff. There were also more lessons in Jing Quan Dao; Sam learned several of the more esoteric defensive moves from an expert teacher—moves that were offensive in part, ways to fight that turned an opponent's own weight and inertia completely against them. If Traynor thought she was going to have another relaxing two-weeks off after her glorious time in Hawaii, Yuán Lì húa quickly burst that bubble.
Both parents were surprised and impressed with the asari manufactured omnitools the pair wielded, particularly the different blades that could be instantly fabricated. Sammy thought Xiùlán would burst with pride when she was able to flawlessly execute the basic exercises employing the liuyè dāo and the shuāng dāo [雙 刀 – double knife]; Lì húa was able to help Sam further refine her techniques with these deadly blade weapons, just as she had done for using the nángùn.
Traynor had also impressed Xiùlán's father with her vast array of computer knowledge, particularly her gift for statistical analysis of seemingly dissimilar figures. Chaoxiang's position at the book-keeping business he managed was enhanced when the changes she suggested increased the speed and efficiency of the computers responsible for data inquiry and retention.
They had been staying with Xiùlán's parents for ten days when Xiùlán finally spoke to Sammy about her parents while the pair were preparing dinner. "They have both grown quite impressed with you, Sà mi, particularly my mother. She finds it difficult to comprehend how you could have learned and perfected your skills in such a short space of time; she says you possess a singular gift for close quarters combat … a real rarity."
Traynor gave her lover a quick peck on the cheek. "She's just being nice, Xiùlán. I could never come close to matching the skills either one of you possess … I learn something new every time we take the floor together!" She went silent for several moments as she continued to slice fresh carrots. "Your mom has taught me so much in the short time we've been here. I really wish I could have met you … met all of you, ten years ago."
Xiùlán placed a kiss on Traynor's cheek in return. "You are so sweet, Sà mi. I don't think you would have learned as much so quickly if we'd met when we were twelve or thirteen years old. You needed your experiences at college, or you might not have been so motivated to learn what I could teach you. Our futures could have changed in so many ways if we had known each other as children."
Traynor wasn't so sure. "My interests in girls … versus boys? … would have stayed the same, Xiùlán, even at that age. Meeting you sooner?" Sam looked at her lover as she thought about her own past on Horizon. "I would have fallen in love with you That. Much. Sooner! Yes! At the tender age of twelve. You need to know that, Yuán Xiùlán; I have never … ever … loved anyone the way I love you!"
Yuán Xiuying had silently entered the kitchen and had listened to the final bits of conversation between the young women, surprising them both when she pointed a bony finger at Sam and announced, "Ni shì dìguó zhuyì zhě! [你是帝國主義者！– You are an imperialist!] Zhiyou zài zhèli cáinéng lìyòng rén! [只有在這裡才能利用人！– Only use people here!]
Xiùlán quickly leaped to Sam's defense, explaining to her grandmother that Samantha had been born on Earth, that her parents had moved to a brand new colony on a formerly empty world in 2168; Horizon had been settled by humans from all over, including China, all with high hopes for their future away from Earth. She concluded with, "Sami is no threat to you or this family, Nainai. Please. You must realize I would never endanger this house."
The old woman's eyes never left Samantha until Xiùlán's mother entered the small kitchen to see what was happening. Lì húa surprised Xiuying by taking Samantha's side, praising her for her abilities and willingness to learn new things, particularly concerning martial arts. She also expressed gratitude for the assistance Sam had given to Chaoxiang's position at his workplace, enhancing his reputation with the owners.
Samantha simply stayed quiet and listened; having won over two of the three people that were important in the life of her lover was enough for now. She suspected Yuán Xiuying had lived long enough to remember tales of European colonialism in the Far East, and her own acquired British accent had served as a trigger, bringing back bad memories of hard times. Xiùlán and her mom had things well in hand.
• LOWER LEVELS, OMEGA STATION •
K'ath Din'sari was absolutely livid. The payment she'd been promised for setting up a deal for Ugrolya Rarfenak to sell an ancient asari artifact in the possession of Terminus pirate Kryllê Ghydgryz to the Blue Suns had been forgotten—Rarfenak denied having promised payment to her, and the Blue Suns had sent a very large turian to intimidate her into keeping her mouth shut about the whole deal.
She had trailed a gruff-looking human from the Spirit World Bar in the lower habitat levels to a series of older, dilapidated space-docks, from where a large amount of illegal activity was carried out. It turned out the human was heading to a group of short-term drop-boxes, one of which turned out to be where the artifact had been stored after Ghydgryz had been paid his finder's fee by the Suns. The human had retrieved the figurine, itself protected by a sealed, flexible clearview container.
Once the figurine was in the possession of the Blue Suns, any leverage for payment due anyone was completely gone. K'ath had never had the artifact in her possession, so was guaranteed nothing, but she had expected to be treated fairly. Now, she walked about in her tiny apartment near the bar where she worked, getting ready for another boring shift. She had one last trick up her sleeve—she knew a person that could get her in touch with an agent for the Shadow Broker; she'd sell the information on the figurine, make a few credits for her troubles and hopefully cause the person or group currently holding that figurine a great deal of trouble. She knew what she intended to do might place her life in peril, so she needed to be exceedingly careful, but she wasn't going to simply let this go.
She left for the bar, carefully locking the entrance door behind her.
• ARCTURUS STATION, L5 LAGRANGIAN POINT of THEMIS · 04 October 2180 •
Traynor and Yuán had said their goodbyes to Xiùlán's family in Shanghai the previous Sunday morning as they boarded an Alliance shuttle bound for Arcturus Station, their semi-permanent duty station during their assignment in Spec/Ops. It was from Arcturus they would be deploying on a number of clandestine missions, primarily in the Terminus systems, but also in the Attican Traverse.
They had been reunited with a few of their classmates upon arrival, and had been introduced to other members of the team; one in particular, Operations Chief Griffen 'Griff' Buchanan, would become the third member and nominal leader of their squad. Buchanan's appearance was quite remarkable—he stood a good 20 centimeters taller than Xiùlán's 186 centimeters height, with the shoulders-to-waist, triangle-silhouette common to heavy weight lifters; although he had a lot of muscle on his frame, he was well-proportioned, giving the impression that he could move fast with very little effort. His slanted, greenish-gray eyes and close-cropped dark hair were offset by a recent knife scar—("Got into a little argument with a batarian over a card game." was all he would say about it)—running in an angry red line from his forehead around to his left ear. When asked about surgery to remove it, Griff said there never seemed to be enough downtime available to heal from the procedure.
In addition to his skills as a pilot, Griff would generally be tasked with assisting his partners in completing whatever mission they were assigned until the brass judged they could go in alone, at which point he would become their handler, giving instructions and guidance as needed. Since each of them would need to be capable of covering for either of the other two while on assignment, Xiùlán and Samantha were immediately assigned to flight training classes in order to give them enough familiarity with piloting the UT-47 that they could escape a situation without an assigned pilot.
Flight lessons proved easier for Traynor, as she was used to looking at the world through vid-monitors. Yuán found it easier to fly with the virtual windscreen and side viewports operational, but forced herself to learn to fly without the use of the visual aids. Both woman swiftly went through the 'emergency' flight school, easily earning high marks from their instructors.
A portion of their flight training included the basics of navigation using the Mass Relays, a subject that really intrigued Traynor. Ever since the 2048-CE discovery of the Prothean data cache on Mars, humanity's presence had seemingly exploded into the galaxy. The development of FTL travel led to a thorough exploration of the Sol System, climaxing with the discovery of the ice and debris covered relay orbiting Pluto in 2049 CE.
The first relay jump from Charon to the nearby system of Arcturus led curious explorers to boldly—some might say recklessly—begin traveling to other nearby star systems. It would be eight years before humanity's violent introduction to another space fairing race, the turians. The brief conflict ended with hard feelings on both sides; the turians were particularly unhappy at being charged as the aggressor for starting the conflict.
Relay-to-relay exploration increased at an accelerated rate in 2158 CE. Sometime during the ensuing twenty-two years, Alliance cosmic and gravitational physicists had confirmed, in at least three of the long-distance relay pairs, the existence of a special Mass Relay—a booster relay—placed approximately half the distance between the system relays forming each pair. The Space/Time-Corridor created by the relays in the Ismar Frontier and the Omega Nebula had a booster in the middle of the Nemean Abyss. Rather than the single 'tuning fork' appearance of a primary or secondary relay, a booster was double-ended, being 22 kilometers long with the revolving, gyroscopic rings set at the middle of an encircling structure smaller than in a prime or secondary relay; the structure was always aligned with the main relays at either end of the S/T-C.
The booster's function was to supplement the stability of the S/T-C for its entire distance; there was no provision for exiting the S/T-C at its location, as it would be impossible to reenter the path in order to continue traveling to the intended destination—or so everyone had been led to believe. The physicists, having collaborated with experts in navigational programming, discovered there was a way to exit the S/T-C at the booster's location while enroute; furthermore, the interrupted journey could be completed at any time afterwards, as the relays used each ships unique identifier—its transponder—to keep track of their progress to their destination. It was a simple matter to add encoding to each ship's navi-computer to enable a mid-transit exit. Reentry was accomplished by contacting the relay and approaching as if it were the originating relay. It would spawn a Space/Time-Corridor and send the ship either towards its original destination as if there had been no interruption in the journey, or back to its point of origin.
The Alliance had immediately classified everything concerning this discovery in the erroneous belief that humanity was the only race to have discovered this in all the centuries the turians, asari and salarians had been space-faring races. Modified exploration ships were clandestinely sent out solely to investigate the phenomenon, their mission was to locate and map as many of these 'booster' relays as possible. The arrogantly flawed assumption that humanity was the only race to discover and utilize a booster relay was rapidly proven wrong; an Alliance corvette dropped out in the Nemean Abyss and took up a position 80,000 clicks away.
An amazing amount of traffic dropped out of the relay and disappeared into local FTL; these same ships usually reappeared within a day or so to resume their interrupted journey to their original destination. When the corvette followed the destination vector of these vessels, it discovered an heretofore unknown space station a light year from the booster relay—Cartagena Station—in the void orbiting a lone gas giant, itself in orbit around a brown dwarf. The small station turned out to be a transfer point for smugglers of all stripes; the majority of the traffic consisted of batarian pirate craft, Blue Suns smugglers and a few scattered Cerberus flagged vessels, docking at the station for varying amounts of time. Now that the Systems Alliance knew of the station, it would continue monitoring traffic through the relays.
• LATE OCTOBER – MIDDLE OF NOVEMBER, 2180 •
Yuán, Traynor and Buchanan found themselves trailing a Blue Suns shipment of stolen, turian owned lithium dimethylamide condensers along with containers of monomethyl-hydrazine through the lower levels of Omega Station. The Suns were transferring the cargo from a pair of Kowloon freighters they had hijacked after murdering and spacing their crews—pilots and navigators had been replaced with humans working for the Blue Suns.
Ordinarily, the Alliance would not have gotten involved with a pair of hijacked turian freighters, but as the cargo of each was destined for military use on the volus world of Irune, the volus ambassador had requested assistance from the Alliance in recovering the cargo.
Buchanan and Traynor had inserted themselves into the ground crew in order to enable the placement of trackers amongst the cargo containers; no one ever asked questions of station-based cargo handlers, as they were all hired on a temporary basis. The unlikely pair had changed into ordinary, nearly worn out clothes, with holes in knees and ragged cuffs on the pants; their faces and hands were dirty as well. Sam's hair looked unkempt and greasy, as did Griff's, and he had stopped shaving three weeks prior to the mission. Neither had bathed in a number of days, a situation Sam found completely repugnant; she could actually smell her own body, enough so she didn't want to raise her arms. And Buchanan! She hadn't been around too many men for any length of time, but the few she had worked with weren't usually so grossly offensive; Griff gave new meaning to the words.
No one paid either of them any attention, with the exception of moving away if they got too close, so Sam and Griff were free to place trackers on, in and under the cargo containers they moved between the two smaller vessels and the heavy freighter that was receiving the entire load. The trackers were a basic Alliance design that Sam had modified—instead of continuously pinging their location, they only emitted once every 70 minutes—a central processor within several of them synchronized all of them, preventing them from all pinging together.
When the job was done, they grabbed their pay and left by separate routes. Sam went into an alcove next to a building and risked using her omnitool to check the status of the trackers. Satisfied that all were operating to specs, she looked around quickly, shut down her tool and made for the closest elevator.
After a three week journey through the relays from Omega, The MSV Ocean's Skull arrived at a freight forwarding dock on the Citadel, having called first at Korlus, then at Aequitas. When C-Sec boarded the craft they promptly arrested the batarian captain and his first officer for smuggling stolen cargo and selling a portion of it while enroute. The Ocean's Skull was confiscated from its owners, who would have to reimburse the turian shipping company for the missing containers; also, the freighter would be sold at auction, with the proceeds being divided among the family members of the murdered crews of the two vessels originally hauling the payloads.
A number of the monomethylhydrazine containers had found their way to Cartagena Station; discovered in a trans-shipment hanger waiting for pickup by an elcor buyer, an Alliance team led by Yuán Xiùlán had recovered all of the valuable cargo by tracking the signals the previously installed tracers were emitting. The combination of the alphanumeric codes on each container, matched to the original manifests from Palaven and the covertly installed tracers confirmed without a doubt the ownership of the chemical cargo. The Alliance's successful completion of the recovery mission enhanced their reputation with the Volus and the Turians; unfortunately, relations with the batarians were now even more strained then they had been before. Somehow, the batarians simply failed to realize the few bad pœ'mojn—batarian fruit, similar to a Terran apple—in their midst tainted them all in the same smell.
• MIDDLE LEVELS · OMEGA STATION •
K'ath Din'sari left the nondescript building by a side door, not wishing to be seen leaving from the same door she'd entered less than an hour before. She had come here to play her final card in a dangerous game—she had met with an agent for the Shadow Broker in order to sell information about an ancient asari figurine that had already changed hands several times just since she'd learned of its existence.
Ugrolya Rarfenak had reneged on his promised payment to her, and a turian enforcer for the Blue Suns had threatened her life if she continued to stick her nose into places it was not welcome. Involving the Shadow Broker was her final chance to make a few credits for all her hard work, but she knew her life was forfeit if the Suns got wind of her actions. She took a round-about route to the transit stand a short distance from the building, keeping a careful watch on the dark alleys and walkways around her.
She finally walked up to an aircar taxi that could take her to the lower levels where she lived and worked; taking a last look around, she activated the hatch and was about to lower herself into the rear seat when she felt a slight pain in her left shoulder. Looking around revealed nothing—she rolled her shoulders a bit and felt nothing amiss, so continued, getting into the aircar and making herself comfortable in the rear seat, where she entered her destination and used her palm to press the 'start' control. The tiny eezo powered engine came to life under her—the car rose straight up a meter, rotated on its axis and headed for her destination.
She tried and failed to relax during the short flight—she was still worried that her actions had, despite her attempts to stay beneath notice, drawn attention from the Blue Suns. Should have just ignored Rarfenak and Ghydgryz when I had the chance, she thought as the aircar completed its descent to the lower habitat section of the station and gently came to a stop on the pavement. K'ath swung her legs out of the car and stood as the side door opened; after a furtive glance around her, she started walking, intending to stop by her apartment for a change of clothes before going to the bar for another boring shift of serving drinks to guys who apparently thought what they paid for their beverages entitled them to rub or grab her ass as she walked by their tables. Hope that's the worst that happens for the next few weeks. Wonder if going to the Shadow Broker was a smart thing to do. The agent had said she'd be contacted soon.
K'ath quickly looked around after entering her apartment. Her gut was telling her something was off, but she couldn't see anything out of place, and there was no one here but herself. She closed and locked the entry door and moved into her tiny bedroom to change into a fresh bar uniform. She was pulling her shirt off over her head as she moved back into her living/dining room. Feeling a twinge in her left shoulder, she paused long enough to grab her arm with her right hand and take a good look at the area bothering her; there was nothing visible, but she continued to feel a slight twinge when she rotated the shoulder or moved her arm around.
Shaking her head, K'ath decided it was nothing and finished getting undressed. Moving about in just her underpants normally didn't bother her—not having the continuously swollen breasts of, say, human females, batarian females did not appear that much different from males, at least until their pants were removed. Without the hormones her body would be generating if she had a small mouth to nurse, her breasts would remain virtually flat, with just enough fat and undeveloped milk glands behind the nipples to mark her as a female. At this moment, K'ath felt distinctly uncomfortable and hastily grabbed her uniform. She still did not see anything in the apartment that could explain her feelings, but she'd always trusted her gut, and right now, it was churning with an undeniable apprehension.
She quickly donned her tights and pulled her dress on. Having her chest covered again calmed the butterflies in her stomach. As she finished getting dressed, she continued to look around the small apartment. Finally giving up the apparently fruitless search for … something … she pulled on a jacket and left for the bar, locking her door securely behind her.
That young woman is very smart, and quite sensitive to her environment, Padok Wiks thought to himself as he deactivated his cloaking generator and moved from his hiding place between the wall and the back of a chair. I will need to be a bit more careful in future … can't afford to be seen just yet. The salarian STG operative moved to the door and waited as he listened for movement outside. Damn lucky I wasn't in the open; secondary eyes sensitive to infrared … can see my body heat when cloaked, even if quite cool compared to her own. Wiks reactivated his cloaking generator as he opened the door; once outside, he carefully locked the door as she had done, then added a sub-routine that would alert his omnitool next time it was unlocked … only reason I had time to hide before she entered. With that thought, Padok Wiks left the habitat area for the seedy bar where K'ath Din'sari was employed.
K'ath had been working about two hours when the turian strolled through the door and took a seat at one of the tables. She didn't like the look of him, but then, she felt that way about the majority of the people she had to serve. He placed an appropriate amount of credits on the small table and ordered a drink—a Horosk. K'ath moved towards the bar to fill the order and nearly collided with another customer, a salarian, who apologized profusely as he took a seat at the bar. He watched her clandestinely as she mixed the turian's drink and delivered it to his table.
Upon her return, Padok Wiks asked for a Tupari, a sports drink he was particularly fond of drinking. Unfortunately, K'ath could only offer him Paragade as a substitute, since Tupari was a rare find this far down in the station. The salarian expressed a bit of disappointment, but agreed to the replacement as he engaged the pretty batarian waitress in small talk. It took a while, but Wiks charm and his apparent consideration for her gradually broke through her natural reticence concerning bar customers.
After a couple of hours, the turian stood and left, a bit unsteady on his feet after drinking several Horosks. He appeared to be a bit unhappy that Wiks had monopolized most of Din'sari's time when she wasn't waiting tables or making drinks. As for K'ath, the evening had been quite profitable for her, making her wish for more such as this. She pulled on her jacket and left for her apartment, unaware the turian she had waited on in the bar was shadowing her rather closely.
K'ath was getting close to making the final turn to walk down the narrow alley where her apartment was located when she heard a commotion behind her. Flattening herself against a wall, she watched in horrified fascination as the turian that had been following her without her knowledge was pinned to a bollard guarding the entrance to a store. The attacker was, to her eyes, visible as a shadowy, black and white image outlined in electronic interference that quickly disappeared from view, leaving just the turian lying on the concrete. K'ath didn't need to be told that what happened behind her was none of her business—she turned the corner and ran the rest of the way to her apartment.
She was on the ragged edge of hysteria by the time she reached her door—she couldn't get the lock released soon enough to get inside where she felt she'd be safe. Just as the door segments parted and slid into their recesses, a hand clamped over her mouth and part of her nose; her attempt to scream was to no avail. The body behind her shoved her into her apartment even as she flailed uselessly at her unseen assailant. She quickly spun about as the hand came off her mouth, only to find the muzzle of some kind of large bore handgun centimeters from her face. All thoughts of screaming died as she sank to her knees and whimpered, "Please don't kill me … please don't kill me … please don't …"
A hand reached down, caught her under her arm and gently pulled. "Please get up, Ms Din'sari. I am not here to hurt you." A form emerged from an electronic field, a cloaking device. It was the salarian she'd recently served and talked with at the bar. "I need to ask you a few questions, Ms Din'sari, and I'll be on my way."
K'ath backed away from the salarian; as she couldn't go far in such a small room, she ended up abruptly sitting in a chair. "What do you want? I don't have any money, or drugs. Is it sex? What? …"
"Please calm down, Ms Din'sari. I am Padok Wiks … employed by Salarian Special Tasks Group. My sincere apologies for frightening you so badly. Needed to make sure you arrived here unharmed, after dealing with turian in alley. Why do you suppose he was following you? Never mind, unimportant now. He was Blue Suns member. I have to wonder what is their interest in a poor tavern waitress from lower levels of Omega. You stumbled onto something that has put your life in jeopardy, Ms Din'sari. I am here to fix that, if I am able."
"I'm … stumbled onto … what? What turian? What do you want, Mr … Wiks?"
The salarian smiled. "Turian you served earlier this evening … Blue Suns member. I believe he was assigned to shut you up … permanently." Wiks began pacing the small area in front of the chair being occupied by K'ath. "You spoke with a Shadow Broker agent earlier today. That kind of information does not stay hidden, Ms Din'sari, no it doesn't. You have knowledge of a … recent transaction … between a Terminus based pirate captain and the Blue Suns, brokered by a Mr … ahh, Ugrolya Rarfenak, is that correct?"
K'ath was stunned—she didn't think anyone had paid any attention to her. Wiks chuckled. "Humans have a saying for the expression that just crossed your face, Ms Din'sari, but I don't have time to explain the concept well enough for you to understand. Next time you browse the Extranet, look up the words 'deer' and 'headlights'—human terms—that was the look I just witnessed."
Wiks had ceased his pacing to stand in front of her. "A salarian freighter destroyed, its crew slaughtered; the pirate captain you recently saw talking to Rarfenak responsible. Object obtained by Blue Suns a historical relic of great importance, incalculable value to the asari people. As a favor to their ruling council, STG is looking at every lead, every scrap of evidence available in order to determine the location of that artifact. You were closest to the two people involved in original transfer. What can you tell me about them? What did you overhear?"
"I, ahh … nothing, really." K'ath was beyond being nervous by now, but continued on in a halting voice. "I spiked Rarfenak's ale, learned he needed to broker a deal for a rare piece of asari art. I set up a meeting with a Blue Suns rep, a turian, is all … gave him the ID chip Rarfenak gave me and got stiffed for my troubles." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Apparently, it's okay to ignore the batarian female as long as she's out of the way … that's why I went to the Shadow Broker." She looked up at Wiks, her fear obvious as she stammered, "And now you tell me … the Blue Suns want me dead?" Leaning forward slightly, she placed her head in her hands as she placed her elbows on her thighs. "What's going to happen to me now? I don't have enough creds to buy passage off this station … even if I could, where would I go? There's no place safe from them … they're everywhere, and they employ members of all the dominant races, including salarians."
Wiks sighed as he weighed his options. He needed to report back to Councilor Valern on the Citadel, although his instincts screamed the trail was by now too old to follow—the Crystal Scarab had been space dust for close to five months and the artifact had changed hands at least twice since Ghydgryz had cut his deal with Rarfenak. He looked at K'ath Din'sari for a few moments. "Asari are conducting their own search for the artifact, Ms Din'sari. Don't expect them to have any more success at tracking it than STG. Truth is, the trail is quite cold at this point. Blue Suns quite adept at hiding less-than-legal activities. That means you have made yourself a target by contacting the Shadow Broker."
The salarian smiled as he continued, "Broker will undoubtedly expend considerable resources in attempt to recover artifact; the antiquities Guildhall on Thessia will no doubt pay handsomely for its safe return."
Wiks appeared to come to a decision while he was talking. "You need to come with me, Ms Din'sari … I will transport you somewhere safe … well, safer than on this station. We can assist you in obtaining new documents and find a job for you that will minimize your exposure to possible discovery by the Blue Suns. As you say, they are everywhere. Come on, pack your clothes. Appears you have few possessions here. You can access your accounts once we're on the move." Wiks held out a hand. "Please."
• ASARI COUNCILOR'S CHAMBERS, PRESIDIUM · CITADEL •
Asari Councilor Raesia Tevos glanced up from the overnight incident reports she was reading to see Dalis Shegos standing just inside the door to her office; returning her attention to the datapad in front of her, she used a hand to casually motion her aide to enter and approach her desk. "What is it, Dalis?"
"There is a bit of news from Omega, Madam Councilor."
Tevos looked up. "I hesitate to ask, but what has the pirate queen done now?"
Shegos shook her head slightly as she replied with a smile, "Oh, this does not concern Aria … at least, there's no news about her as of this morning. However, there is a bit of information regarding the investigation of a missing artifact."
Tevos shoved the datapad aside and gave Dalis her full attention. "From your tone and expression, is has not been recovered. So, what?"
"The STG agent assigned by the Dalatrass on Sur'Kesh has discovered the chain of custody … from the pirate captain to the middle man. He is sure the Blue Suns are now in possession of the figurine. The agent was forced to reveal himself in order to prevent the death of an innocent female, a batarian, working at a tavern that just happened to be the location of the meeting between the principals. She drugged the middle man to find out what he was selling, then set up the buy for him; apparently, the credits she expected in return did not materialize, so she went to an agent for the Shadow Broker."
Tevos picked up the thread—it was something she had seen happen many times in the past. "She made herself a target for retaliation by the Suns, leading to the STG agent having to spirit her off the station for her own safety." Tevos leaned back in her chair and sighed. "The Blue Suns have time on their side. They'll hold on to the figurine until they feel it's sale and transfer will not blow back on them."
Tevos pondered for a few moments, then said, "Contact Councilor Valern … ask him to meet with me in the lower level conference room at 0930. You may tell him it concerns the STG operative on Omega Station … he will pretend not to know what you are talking about, so be insistent. I do not believe he can be sobusy he's unable to take the time to speak with a colleague."
Dalis smiled. "Right away, Councilor."
A/N: Just a quick thanks to my Beta reader and (now) co-author on this and'Transformation: Part III'; we recently met face-to-face and I was able to (finally) buy DS a beer. Now I need to repay DS for the dinner my spouse and I were treated to in conjunction with the beer I provided. Thanks DS! It was nice to meet you in person and chit-chat for a couple of hours!