I can't begin to tell you the things I discovered while I was looking for something else. – Shelby Foote

Foundations – The 'undersides' of the Citadel Wards, between the inhabited superstructures and impenetrable outer hull.
xīlā shou li jiàn – [希拉手裡劍 – hira shuriken ··· literally, sword hidden in user's hand] Four-to-six-bladed Japanese throwing star.

• OMEGA STATION · OMEGA NEBULA, SAHRABARIK SYSTEM •

Traynor entered the building where Jipaw Zilorno, the salarian agent for the Shadow Broker, worked in relative obscurity. Sam had researched Zilorno, knew he had a krogan bodyguard with him at all times, so had armored up; her heavy handgun was an M-358 with an armor piercing mod activated; she was taking no chances with any potentially close encounter of a krogan kind. She had also readied her omnitool with its kinetic shield hacking program; all she had to do was activate it, whereupon it would cycle through the 135 shield frequencies used by the krogan; once discovered, it would then hack the generator and reverse the shield polarity, causing its generated field to rapidly collapse, suffocating and killing whoever was unfortunate enough to be using it.

She was instantly glad that she'd taken precautions as she approached the segmented door; the krogan bodyguard was standing outside in an attempt to dissuade anyone from entering the broker's office—apparently, the agent did not wish to deal with the general public today. She activated her omnitool's hacking program; when it trilled a response, all she needed to do was goad the hulking beast into activating his kinetic barrier to kill him.

"I'm here to talk to Jipaw Zilorno," she announced to the krogan.

His response was a growled "You're not going to see him today, human. I strongly suggest you turn around and leave before I toss you out the nearest window."

Traynor crossed her arms and stood her ground. "Not a very friendly reception from someone that's supposed to be in business to serve the public. Is this how you greet everyone that comes up here to see the Broker's agent, or is it just me?"

The krogan had never had anyone challenge him this way, least of all a squishy human. "I don't believe you understood what I said, human, so I'll say it again, slowly this time. Leave. Now!"

Traynor smiled back at him. "Not going to happen, ugly."

She waited; as he lowered his head to charge her, she activated her mass generator and jumped straight up, easily clearing him as he bellowed in anger and ran through the spot where she had been standing mere moments before, resulting in his full-force collision with the wall behind her previous position… this sat him down on his ass, a position he had a bit of a problem recovering from. Resetting her generator as she touched down, now behind him and in front of the door he'd been guarding, she said, "Thanks," over her shoulder as she entered the Shadow Broker's office, closed the door and hacked the lock to prevent the krogan from gaining entry. Turning quickly at the sudden noise behind her, she came face-to-face with a salarian, Jipaw Zilorno no doubt, pointing a pistol in her direction.

"Why is everyone here so damned unfriendly?" Traynor asked, hands palm outwards to show they were empty. "Aren't you supposed to be in the business of buying and selling information?" Zilorno jumped as an enormous Wham-m-m sounded through the door, no doubt the result of a massive fist hitting it from outside. Traynor smiled at the salarian and added, "I think that krogan feels like he let you down … I'd have to agree. Perhaps you need a bodyguard with an ability to think before he acts."

Zilorno lowered his weapon. "Who are you? What do you want? I'm very busy, so hurry up, speak."

"Who I am is not important; what I want is." Traynor cautiously crossed her arms. "I'm looking for an ancient artifact, stolen by a batarian pirate, sold to the Blue Suns. I need confirmation they have it, or if they do not, I need to know who they sold it to."

Zilorno laughed. "Surely you cannot be serious. You look like a mercenary. I seriously doubt you have the required financial resources necessary for me to divulge that information, human. I'm not in business to give information away. You're wasting my time, which is also costing me money. You can show yourself out. I'm sure the krogan will only…"

Traynor interrupted the salarian by quickly taking two steps forward while reaching for his throat and his pistol; the pistol discharged as she shoved it aside. Her grip on Jipaw's wrist tightened until his fingers released their hold on the pistol's grip, allowing it to clatter to the floor. Her hold on his neck tightened just enough to cause his vision to go gray at the edges from lack of blood flow to his brain.

"I didn't ask you how much money this is costing you, because I don't give a fuck. All I need are answers to my question about who is currently in possession of an asari artifact, illegally sold on this station." Traynor pulled the struggling salarian towards her until they were eye-to-eye. "Do the Blue Suns have the figurine?"

Another enormous Wham-m-m sounded through the door from the hallway. Coughing and gasping as he struggled to draw a breath, Zilorno glanced at the door, then looked at Traynor. "I'll tell you nothing, human," he gasped out. "The Shadow Broker pays me to be discrete."

"What would the Broker say if he learned a 65-million credit transaction took place in a tavern near here without the proper transaction fees being remitted to Aria T'Loak, and worse, that you were informed about it by one of the people involved? Do you suppose you would still be doing business for the Broker here on Omega?"

Zilorno suddenly looked nervous. "Aria wasn't paid?" Nervousness changed to suspicion. "How do you know this, human? Why are you even interested in this?"

Traynor let go of the salarian's throat and pushed him back until the pistol he'd dropped was at her feet. Pointing to the chair behind his desk, she said, "Sit. Stay."

As he complied, she quickly retrieved the pistol and said, "I'm not a merc, nor am I in business to give away information ... I am involved because the sale of rare historical objects is illegal in most of the galaxy. The object I'm looking for is an ancient asari figurine, very rare, and easily worth twenty times what the Suns paid Kryllê Ghydgryz."

The nervous look in Zilorno's eyes gave way to grudging admiration. "Well played, human. Few of your kind would stand up to a krogan; fewer still would attempt to face me down in my own office. Perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial … arrangement?"

Samantha moved up beside Jipaw's desk and partially sat on its edge; this allowed her long cloak to fall away from her lower leg, revealing the black armor shin guard and the sheath with its heavy knife fastened around her calf. She set the salarian's pistol in the middle of his desk with the muzzle facing him and replied, "Personally, I don't care if Aria T'Loak receives her transaction fee or not, and I certainly don't intend to tell her. I just need to learn who has the figurine and where it might possibly be."

Samantha had braced her left hand on the desk near the pistol as she rested her right hand on her thigh and continued in a neutral voice, "The Suns cannot afford to sit on that artifact after paying so many creds to obtain it. It isn't just the credits the pirate received … there's also the finder's fee they paid Ugrolya Rarfenak. Conservatively? I'd estimate that would be nearly just under two percent of the sale price. That is a serious amount of money, for any race."

The salarian watched this human warily. She could have easily killed him with the hand that had gripped his throat, which meant he wasn't a target. "I tell you what you need to know, you leave in peace?"

"That's the plan."

Zilorno took a deep breath. "Word of this meeting cannot get back to the Shadow Broker, human. My life would come to a sudden, violent end."

"I have no interest in seeing your life at risk, Jipaw Zilorno." Traynor activated her omni-tool, entered a number of commands, pressed a control to execute her instructions then powered the tool down. "I just eliminated all digital records for this area from half an hour before I arrived. Everything will resume right after I leave the building." Traynor smiled at the salarian. "Station records have been modified to show a power outage, including backup generators, in this sector for that time period. It should keep you and your bumbling bodyguard safe from retaliation. Now, about that figurine?"

Zilorno sighed. "The Suns are in possession of the artifact … I do not know where it is being kept. It may still be on the station—they do run the Gozu District, after all. When they decide to move it, odds are it will be shipped by way of Cartagena Station in the Nemean Abyss."

"You met with a batarian female a few days ago. She's now missing … hasn't been seen since that day. Your doing?"

"No. She was healthy when she left. Unhappy, but healthy."

"Why was she unhappy?"

"She came to me after been stiffed out of her 'finder's' fee for the sale. She should have been paid by Ugrolya Rarfenak … his greed apparently overcame his common sense," offered the salarian. "I know I wouldn't complain about a seven-figure payday."

"Sounds like a pirate in the making," Traynor agreed. "Anything else?"

"That's all I know, human. Most of that information came from the female. I didn't ask for her name—safer for her, safer for me."

Traynor stood up, picked the pistol up from the middle of the desk and said, "I'll just leave this by the door on my way out." She smirked and said, "Safer for you, safer for me."

Sam hacked the lock and opened the door, surprising the krogan bodyguard in the hallway beyond. With Jipaw Zilorno's own pistol pointed at his head, Samantha said, "Your boss and I have an agreement. You're kind of useless, and I'm leaving." Briskly walking past him, she shoved the gun into his belly and engaged her cloak. "It's been a pleasure …" she called over her shoulder as she left the pair behind, then departed the building by a different route than the one she'd taken to arrive. Time to leave Omega, after she talked to Xiùlán.

Samantha placed a call to Xiùlán from the secure terminal inside the shuttle. While waiting for the connection's establishment through the comm buoys, she idly looked through the results of all the searches she had completed during the past several weeks. Sammy abruptly sat back upright as the comm system came online. "Sà mi! What have you been doing all this time? How are you?" Hearing Xiùlán's voice, even with the flanging delay created by the light years between them, was music to her soul, instantly relaxing her even as it brought an intense, sad feeling of longing.

"Didn't you know?" Traynor answered with a smirk. "I've been on leave here in the vacation capitol of the Terminus. And how have you been, my love? Have you had any better results tracing the path of this artifact than I have?"

Xiùlán replied, "I've not had the benefit of your expertise at cracking encrypted computer files, so I expect you are further along than me … that said, I've discovered some interesting chatter between a Blue Suns unit on Omega and an outpost on Illium." Yuán turned away slightly as she referred to another readout, then looked back. "The group on Omega wants to transfer some special …" here she imitated quotation marks with her fingers, "apparatus … I can only presume they're taking about the artifact."

"Sounds promising," Sam replied thoughtfully. "Moving an asari relic to Illium makes more sense than leaving it on Omega, although …" here Traynor allowed herself to smirk, "Illium is really no better … just has nicer clothes and makeup than Omega." Pausing briefly to glance at her notes, she asked, "Did you happen to come across the STG agent's name? Initials are apparently 'W.P.'; you may need to look for 'P.W.' instead." Sam briefed Xiùlán concerning her visit to the Shadow Broker's agent after talking to a waitress in the bar where K'ath Din'sari had recently been employed. "I'm fairly certain this agent is responsible for Din'sari's disappearance."

"Where do you think this W.P., or P.W … would take a batarian female with limited job skills? Din'sari had to have left Khar'shan for a reason. Money?" Xiùlán slowly shook her head. "She's sure as hell not going to get rich working as a waitress."

"Unknown." Traynor thought for a few moments, then began speaking as if thinking out loud. "Opportunities for females on Khar'shan are limited. Education seems to be male-centric. Perhaps …" Traynor thought some more. "opportunities … she may have been trying to … perhaps she was simply attempting to earn … I dunno, Xiùlán. It doesn't seem possible, but maybe she was working in order to attend school off-world. Wouldn't be the first time, and it'd explain her frustration with the turian broker, Rarfenak."

"If that is truly why she left Khar'shan, then my gut says her next stop would be the Citadel," Xiùlán replied. "Perhaps we need to search for recent arrivals, concentrate on any salarians accompanying batarian females. There cannot be that many arrivals fitting such limited criteria."

"I'm on it. I'll call you back as soon as I have some results."

Samantha's search of passenger arrivals on the Citadel proved more daunting than it would appear at first glance. An entire evening had to be devoted to searching for an exact combination of a salarian male and a batarian female disembarking together. There were many ports of entry, with tens of thousands of people merely transferring from one ship to another.

Sam widened her search criteria to include private vessels, either chartered or owned by an individual salarian or by a quasi-government organization; again, the sheer number of people traveling in this manner slowed the search considerably.

Finally, after 29 hours, Sam had her answers … K'ath Din'sari had passed through customs at the Echo Ward port-of-entry, and she had been accompanied by an unnamed salarian. The reason for not recording his name became crystal-clear when she ran a back-trace on the small corvette's registration; it belonged to the salarian Special Tasks Group, which explained the difficulty in tracking the name of their operative. He had purposely obscured his identity in order to keep his client safe.

Traynor had the ward on the Citadel, but it was an immense area to search for one lone batarian. Looking at hiring records for the 22 hours after K'ath's arrival turned up exactly what Traynor expected—a bar named Krieger's Tavern, located in the outer section of the arm, surrounded by a batarian enclave. Good place to go if one hailed from Khar'shan … not so good for other races. Traynor sent all the information she'd gleaned to Xiùlán, with the suggestion that she travel to the Citadel as soon as she could and that she be on her guard while she was there.

• ECHO WARD, CITADEL · WIDOW •

Yuán had hitched a ride on an Alliance destroyer-escort that was being reassigned to the small detachment patrolling the Widow relay. The ship had docked briefly at the Alliance secure docks on the Citadel, both to take on additional provisions and to allow Xiùlán to leave. She carried her equipment bag to her assigned berth in the 'O-R' housing area, where she changed into her deep jade trimmed black armor.

With a shotgun docked on her backplate, along with a combo barrier/cloaking generator and a mass generator, she strapped on her boot knife sheath and slid the 25 Cm. straight blade into place, the handle conveniently placed to allow quick extraction. Donning a deeply hooded black leather duster, she set out for the nearest transit hub, entered an aircar and set its destination computer for Krieger's Tavern in the Echo ward—it would give her a chance to observe K'ath Din'sari for a bit before surprising her inside her apartment.

As the tavern was in the outer reaches of the Citadel's fifth, or Echo Ward, the trip there took almost ten minutes. Stepping out of the aircar in front of the tavern, Xiùlán pulled the deep hood over her head, walked up to the door and entered; the denizens inside all gave her odd looks as she stood in the doorway for a few moments, no doubt because she was a human entering a batarian-centric establishment. She stepped forward to allow the door to close, then walked with a hint of a swagger to the rearmost table in K'ath's area of responsibility and took a seat, her back comfortably towards the corner.

The waitress—K'ath—walked up to her, looked around nervously, then asked, "What may I do for you?"

Xiùlán looked up slightly as she tossed a couple of credits onto the table. "Batarian ale." The look on K'ath's face spoke volumes, especially when Xiùlán added, "Uncut, please."

Din'sari nearly fell over her feet as she spun around and headed straight for the bar. After talking to the bartender for a few moments, he came out from behind the counter and stalked up to Yuán's table. "We don't like your kind in here." He moved to grab the credits still on the table and gasped as the human's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist in a grip that would shame a krogan, pinning his hand flat on the table; all four of his eyes went wide with fear as her other hand produced a straight-blade knife seemingly from thin air, which she raised over her head and plunged into the table between his third and fourth fingers, right where they joined the hand.

"If you don't want me to rip this arm from your shoulder and use it to beat some sense into your empty head," she growled menacingly, "you'll withdraw that hand and leave those creds right where they are."

Something in this human's voice told the bartender she was nobody he wanted to tangle with; he nodded in agreement and gently exerted pressure against the hand gripping his wrist, pulling his arm back towards himself, away from her, the credits and the black knife sticking out of the table. He hadn't realized how tightly she'd gripped his wrist until she abruptly released it—all the nerves that had been pinched began silently screaming a tingling chorus as they regained their freedom—he held and massaged the wrist with his other hand as he slowly backed away from the table. As far as he could tell, she had exerted no force whatsoever, either while holding his wrist or using the massive black-handled knife.

"Now, I want a glass of uncut batarian ale," she repeated in a caustic voice. "Do I need to get up and serve myself?"

"Go get her beer, Fonya. Make sure it's the good stuff." The bartender subtly tilted his head to his right as he looked back at her; she stared unblinkingly back into his lower eyes and responded in kind, causing him to curse. "Shit, human. I think you must have visited Khar'shan. My apologies. I did not mean to offend."

Xiùlán straightened her head. "Oh, you meant to give offense, of that I have no doubt. You can thank whatever gods you worship that today I am in a mood to be forgiving."

Fonya brought her a glass of foaming green liquid. Xiùlán passed her left hand over the glass as she shoved a credit at the waitress with her right; Fonya failed to notice the beer briefly foaming up as she took the cred off the table. She only looked back up in time to see the human downing the contents of the glass in one go. Yuán set the glass down, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and got up to leave.

Fonya and the bartender both stared at her in amazement as she effortlessly pulled her knife from the table, placed her boot in the chair she'd just vacated and shoved the straight blade back in its sheath. Gracefully planting her foot on the floor, she faced the pair of batarians, said, "Thanks for the drink," and casually strode out of the tavern.

The mechanism of the door to her apartment groaned a bit as the segments retracted into their recesses, then groaned again as the process reversed. Fonya/K'ath was tired, as was usually the case when she returned from work, and wanted nothing more than to crawl straight into her bed and sleep for the next ten hours. She had eaten dinner at the tavern before leaving, so needed nothing until breakfast. Padok Wiks had lined up a good job for her at Krieger's Tavern, but she was still a waitress, on her feet for most of her shift. She believed everything was fine until the strange human female had entered and requested the one thing she never wanted to hear of again – batarian ale, uncut. It was as if she had been followed from Omega by Ugrolya Rarfenak.

Worse, the human had shown no ill effects from drinking the half-liter glass of ale in one go. Fonya had spiked the ale as she was drawing the glass from the tap—no human alive could down that much batarian ale without showing some signs of impairment—that the low dose of poison she'd dropped in the glass had absolutely no effect was even more unsettling. She set her shoulder bag down by the door, rechecked that it was locked and turned on the dim overhead light. Turning towards her lounge area caused her to wish the door was still open as she backed up against the wall.

"Hello, K'ath Din'sari. You're a difficult person to track down." The strange human was sitting in one of her chairs, one incredibly long leg crossed over the other at the knee, ebony armor gleaming faintly in the low light. The hood of her leather coat, itself unfastened across her chest, was thrown back, allowing Fonya/K'ath to see the human's face. Short, tousled hair, midnight black as her armor, framed an oval face with eyes of the deepest ebony, a small nose sprinkled with freckles, full, heart-shaped mouth with corners turned up in a slight smile. Her complexion was tawny … a warm, medium shade of yellowish brown, slightly darker than most of the humans she had encountered since leaving her home world.

"My name is Fonya Dhaggerr … and you… you… should be dead! Or incapacitated, at the very least."

Xiùlán smiled as she chuckled. "You did a good job of poisoning Ugrolya Rarfenak on Omega. I didn't want to wind up in the same shape, or worse, so I applied a counter-agent before I drank that pint of ale. The expression on your bartender's face?" Xiùlán chuckled again. "Absolutely priceless."

Fonya turned and attempted to get out through a door over which she no longer could control; Xiùlán had reprogrammed the lock to prevent it from responding to anyone until she herself chose to leave. Fonya leaned against the unresponsive door and started weeping silently before turning around. "What … what do you want from me, Ms…" she stammered. "I have nothing of value, certainly nothing that could be of any interest to you."

"Name's Yuán, Ms Din'sari … or Ms Dhaggerr? … and if you don't mind, I would like to be the judge of what you may have that's of interest to me." Motioning to the other chair, she added, "Sit please … go on, sit … you have nothing to fear from me, I promise. Oh, and just so you know, your apartment was being monitored, until I disabled the listening devices. Looked like the work of the STG," Yuán said with a smirk. "You can speak freely … no one will overhear what you say to me."

Fonya looked closely at this strange human, realizing that she held her head tilted ever so slightly to her left—a sign of respect among batarians. She knew exactly what she was doing in the bar today! Fonya thought as she continued to watch Xiùlán for any sign of hostility. She slowly moved to the other chair, already set at an angle so her visitor would be facing her when she sat down.

"I'll get right to it, Ms Dhaggerr. I've been hired to look for a relic, a carving of an ancient asari deity. Shortly before you were transported here from Omega by the Salarian STG agent …" Fonya gasped that this human knew that information; "you encountered a broker of rare artifacts … a certain Ugrolya Rarfenak, yes? As I said before, you plied him with drugged batarian ale, as you attempted to do to me today." Fonya put her face in her hands as Xiùlán spoke. "He was going to cut you in for a percentage of his profits, or so he led you to believe."

Dhaggerr finally found her voice. "He didn't pay me a single credit!" she cried. "I helped set him up with a buyer for that carving, and got nothing but threats on my life from the Blue Suns!"

"Hhhmmm … I have it on good authority the turian member of that organization … the one that threatened your life? … is now a semi-permanent but extremely unattractive decoration in you former apartment." Xiùlán smiled at the mixed look of consternation and relief that crossed Dhaggerr's face. "And I am also aware that you turned to an agent of the Shadow Broker for a solution."

"He promised he'd have credits for me in no time," Fonya protested.

"And yet, here you are, no closer to an illegitimate payday than when you served drugged beer to Rarfenak. It's against council edict to trade in ancient artifacts, no matter their origin, Ms Dhaggerr. And I am also aware there is no law on Omega except that which is decreed by Aria T'Loak. I do have to wonder if Rarfenak paid Aria's transaction tax."

Fonya brightened slightly at this. "It was all under the table. The pirate …"

"… Kryllê Ghydgryz."

"Him! I didn't get involved in this mess until after he'd left the bar." Fonya looked down as she added, almost to herself, "Wish now I'd kept out of it completely."

Xiùlán nodded. "My sources tell me Ghydgryz was paid sixty-five million for that figurine. Once he had confirmation of payment to his account, he simply disappeared, left Omega, probably for Khar'shan. And the actual selling price would have been more, as Rarfenak's commission for brokering the deal was additional to Ghydgryz's payment, by just under two percent."

Fonya's mouth fell open in angry surprise. "That stinking pile of stropharia! I didn't get paid because it would have come out of his commission?! And he made, what, a million creds!? For brokering a deal with a buyer I hooked him up with? That miserable bastard!"

"Looks that way, Ms Dhaggerr. So, Blue Suns wound up with the figurine, Ghydgryz got paid 65 million credits, Rarfenak received a so-called 'finder's fee', making him a miserably rich bastard, by the way, and you, my dear Fonya, received nothing but more trouble for your trouble." Xiùlán frowned as she stood up, prompting Fonya to stand as well. Without the disguise of her hooded duster, this human female was still strikingly tall – certainly as tall as any male she'd known.

"So, what now? Sounds like a dead end, for both of us," Fonya said in a despondent voice. "Only difference, you don't have to worry about having your throat slit one night on the walk home from work. And that figurine will probably never be seen again."

Xiùlán grimaced. "That figurine will surface again, soon … Blue Suns cannot afford to hold it indefinitely. As for you, you should be safe enough here, as long as you maintain a low profile. Being in this enclave of your people should help, and your new identity will help even more …" Xiùlán smiled wryly. "Other races really stick out here, in case you hadn't noticed." Xiùlán brought up her arm; activating her omnitool, she entered several commands into its deep purple interface. "The source for the transfer I just made has already vanished, Ms Dhaggerr. I don't know what the extravagant Mr Rarfenak was going to share with you, but I just transferred 750 credits from a small, discretionary budget to your personal account. I only hope it helps you get better established here. You planned on studying, which is why you left Khar'shan, yes?"

"How did you? … Well, yes, that is true. I wanted to get a degree in cryogenic preservation. Fascinating field of work. I need to look at the schools here on the Citadel, since it appears I'll be here for the foreseeable future."

Xiùlán studied her omnitool for a few moments, the deep purple glow lending an otherworldly appearance to her distinctive facial features. With the tool still active, Xiùlán walked right up to Fonya and waved her wrist past the young female's upper body before stopping near her left shoulder. "And finally …" Xiùlán took a step back while leaving her tool active, "would you mind baring your left shoulder for me?"

Fonya found she had to tilt her head back to look this human in the eyes. "What? … Why? … I mean, I don't …"

Xiùlán held her hand up to stop Fonya's babbling. "Sudden sharp pain recently … while you were still on Omega, like an insect bite?" She produced a small med-kit from a pocket in her duster and waited, hand on hip.

Fonya nodded slowly as she unfastened the top part of her dress just enough to slide the collar down past her left shoulder as she stammered, "How … how did you know that? Just before the salarian helped me get off the station. He brought me here, set me up in this apartment, helped me get a job …" she clamped her right hand over her mouth as she realized what she was saying.

"That'll do. Arm loose at your side, please." Xiùlán waved her omnitool over both of the young female's shoulders to be sure. "Wo you ni!" [我有你！ – I have you!] she murmured to herself before directing quiet words at Fonya. "This might sting a bit, so hold still. I just need to …" Xiùlán used her omnitool to place an intense beam of light on Fonya's left shoulder. "Feel like something's still there every once in a while?" Xiùlán asked, as she placed a small auto-targeting extractor on top of the tiny healed wound she'd discovered. Understanding dawned on the batarian as Xiùlán activated the tiny device. "Why … yes, now that you mention … YEEeeeOuch! Damn, that really hurt!"

"My apologies … should feel better in a few moments," Yuán said, as she placed a dab of medigel and a dressing over the minor wound she'd created. Holding a small, silver colored object about the size and shape of a large grain of rice, she handed it to Fonya. "Tracker … most likely no longer active, but I'll take it with me just to be sure … let it track me for a while, if it's still active … maybe scare whomever was tracking you. I may even be able to find out who planted it on you … possibly the salarian that spirited you away from Omega. Regardless, your life will be much better without it."

Fonya stared at the tiny object in wonder, momentarily forgetting she was partially undressed in front of this stranger. The human placed the opening of a small vial against the palm of Fonya's hand, allowing her to tip her hand and drop the object in so Xiùlán could seal it. "You can refasten your dress," Xiùlán said softly. As Fonya watched the human, she repositioned her collar and refastened her top. There were many questions to which she wanted answers, but she waited silently for Yuán to speak.

In answer to the questioning look on the young batarian's face, Xiùlán explained, "Transmitter sends out a signal every eight to twelve hours or so. Not a very precise way to keep track of someone's whereabouts, unless the person using it doesn't expect the objective's location to change radically over a short period of time. As I said, I should be able to use this to get to whoever is keeping track of your whereabouts."

Xiùlán placed the sealed vial in a utility pocket in her under armor pant leg. "I've kept you from your rest long enough, K'ath Din'sari. You should go to bed, get some sleep. I'll let myself out."

Fonya looked down for a moment before looking back up at Xiùlán. "The door? …"

"Will work just fine once I've left. You've been most helpful, Ms Dhaggerr. Thank you." Xiùlán pulled on her leather coat and pulled the hood over her head, turned and unlatched the door lock with a command from her omni tool. Just as she was ready to go through the door, Fonya whispered, "Paddok Wiks."

Xiùlán turned back at this and asked, "Your salarian?"

Fonya nodded her head, almost afraid to repeat the name, just in case he was somehow listening to them, despite assurances from this human. "He supplied me with my new identity … work records, everything I needed to … simply disappear!"

"So, this identity came with your new name? Any idea if it's from a living person?"

"I'm told my namesake died during the Alliance's campaign on Torfan … all of my records here are under that name. It's been difficult … like earlier, in the bar.

"Thank you, Ms Dhaggerr." Xiùlán almost turned to leave, then paused. "Oh … by the way … your co-worker back on Omega? … Sy'Efetin? She asked a good friend of mine about you. Wanted us to tell you she hoped you were safe."

Fonya smiled for the first time since she'd met this human. "Thank you for telling me … Yuán. Sy'Efetin was my only friend on that gods-forsaken rock. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to her."

Xiùlán smiled. "If an opportunity arises, one of us will let her know you're okay." Nodding once, she turned and disappeared from view as she engaged her cloak. With the door open, Fonya was sure she saw the human as a multi-hued grey-white image when she paused outside; she looked both ways before turning and walking away towards the elevator. Fonya's door closed automatically with its characteristic groan, the haptic lock remaining green. The tired batarian walked up to the door, palmed the interface and watched it change from green to red. As interesting a day as this had been, she hoped to never have another like it.

Xiùlán took a taxi to the Alliance docks, there to see if she could hitch a ride back to Arcturus. While she waited in the operations center, she uploaded and sent Traynor all the information she'd learned concerning the STG agent's relocation of K'ath Din'sari, including information about the tracking chip surreptitiously implanted in her shoulder, and her new identity. Even with the small amount of information Xiùlán had been able to learn, she expected the figurine would next appear in Illium, unless the Suns …

"Service Chief Yuán?" Xiùlán stood and turned to see who was calling her; a Marine Sergeant stood just outside the entrance door to the inner offices. "Yes, Sergeant?"

"I found a ride to Arcturus for you, but it's leaving in fifteen. Docking Bay Delta one-four.

Yuán grinned as she picked up her gear. "Thanks, Sergeant. Which way?"

Indicating a starting direction with his arm, he responded, "Just follow the signs, Chief. You can just see the ship's nose from here. SSV Sirocco … heavy corvette. Captain Ballard knows you're coming. Fly safe."

Xiùlán took off at a comfortable trot, fast enough to cover ground quickly, not so fast she'd be out of breath by the time she reached the ship. She made it to the entrance airlock in less than ten minutes and was cleared to board by the XO, who escorted her to the ship's guest quarters, which turned out to be an officer's stateroom. Once there, he left for the CIC to supervise the ship's departure from the Citadel docks and the jump through the relay for Arcturus, saying the ETA to Arcturus would be no more than ninety-five minutes.

Xiùlán looked around and realized calling this compartment a stateroom gave the space more cachet than it deserved. She dropped her gear bags at the foot of the bunk and sat down on the edge, where she experimentally stretched her arms out to her sides. She guessed her fingertips were no more than half-a-meter from either bulkhead; the pocket door was just a meter from the side of the bed, which was placed right against the inner pressure hull. Xiùlán sighed as she swung her legs up in order to lie down on the bunk, perhaps to take a short nap … there was little she could do now but wait.

A/N: Please know that each of you reading this story has my appreciation, and I wish all of you a peaceful 2016. Happy New Year!