You must understand: they fear you. There is nothing scarier in their minds than a girl who knows the power of her flames — Nikita Gill

ANN – Alliance News Network
CIC - Combat Information Center
FTL - Faster Than Light
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
LADaR – LAser Detection and Ranging
Liuyè dāo – Literally, a willow leaf saber (柳葉軍刀), a short sword with a continuously curved blade;
some of these swords feature a sharpened back edge, from the tip back about a third of the 96.5 centimeter length
NDA – Non-Disclosure Agreement, signed by Yuán and Traynor at termination of their Ø7program
Nángùn – literally, a 'southern staff' – a polished, two-meter long white wax wooden staff
Ø7 – An allegedly discontinued vocational code in the Systems Alliance military.
The 'Ø' designates covert operations and the '7' refers to the highest level of proficiency.
VI - Virtual Intelligence
XO - Executive Officer

•ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO, NEAR THE ARCTURUS MASS RELAY •

Staff Lieutenant Yuán Xiùlán had been given an abbreviated tour of the Tokyo after being assigned to the female officer's quarters on the crew deck; she would be sharing a compartment with three other officers—a pair of Navy Chief Warrant Officers and a Lieutenant. She was stowing her clothes—items on hangers in a small, shared closet, with folding items going in a foot locker, when Lieutenant Olivia McKenzie walked in to meet her new roommate. "Xiùlán? Is that really you, Xiùlán?"

Xiùlán turned to greet the bearer of the familiar voice. "By my ancestors … McKenzie?" Xiùlán held out her hand as she looked at her former Lieutenant in amazement. "How in hell did you wind up here on the Tokyo?"

Olivia ignored the hand, opting instead to raise both arms to embrace Xiùlán in an enthusiastic hug. "It's so good to see you … after all this time and who knows how many light years!" Stepping back, Olivia looked Yuán over and added, "And you made Staff Lieutenant! Good for you! Damn! It's really great to see someone that actually made it out of … special training … not that I'm at liberty to talk to anyone about it. Three fucking years of my service life erased. Whatever happened to … your friend … woman with a grudge against that general's little bastard nephew?"

Xiùlán smiled as she replied, "Samantha Traynor … Sammy. She made Chief Warrant Officer—an Ops and Intel Specialist—just been posted to the Station." Xiùlán's smile faded as she said, "We had a few adventures together in the Terminus and the Traverse."

McKenzie could see the subtle change in Xiùlán's expression. "Must have been hard to leave her behind. Scuttlebutt always had the two of you as an item … guess there was more truth than rumor there, huh?"

Xiùlán saw no reason to deny it. "Sammy's the love of my life, Olivia. It was hard to see her leave."

"I can only imagine. So, have you seen or heard from anyone else we knew?"

"Not since Mars." Xiùlán folded her empty travel packs and placed them on a shelf in the closet. There was just enough room within to stand her nángùn in a back corner. "Oh, we both had a meeting with General Park just before shipping out …" Xiùlán said. "She actually handed us of our promotions and new assignments, after we signed her damned non-disclosure agreements." Shaking her head slightly, she added, "It was all I could do to keep Sammy from letting her mouth screw up her career."

McKenzie laughed and replied, "Yeah, Traynor always was a bit of a hothead … not someone to suffer fools gladly, and damn if there aren't a lot of 'em in the Alliance, huh?" With a final chuckle, Olivia continued by asking, "So, what's your assignment on the Tokyo?"

"Haven't been assigned yet … should that have me worried?" Xiùlán closed the closet and faced McKenzie.

"Big ship … fairly easy for the higher brass to forget about people, especially newbies like yourself. Guess I better give you a quick tour while I take you to meet Lieutenant Commander Nolan … Randall Nolan … he's in charge of this little corner of paradise. No bullshit good guy … treats everyone square." McKenzie paused as she moved towards the exit. "After you're done with Nolan, I'll give you a proper tour of this ship … the newbie tour just shows you the highlights. You need to see what really makes this ship work, top to bottom, stem to stern."

Xiùlán nodded once, saying, "Sounds good … lead the way."

Nolan waved Yuán to a seat by his desk after greeting her warmly. "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. I've been looking over your service record … seems whatever vocational training and missions you were assigned these past thirty-six months was purposely redacted. Care to say why?"

Xiùlán looked straight at the commander as she answered, "Unfortunately, I'm bound by an NDA, Sir … had to sign it right before my promotion and transfer."

Nolan's smile was grim. "You're not the first officer sent here with an NDA in their jacket, Yuán. Sounds as if the upper brass is trying to keep something hidden." Picking up the datapad containing her service record, he added, "So, you made Staff Lieutenant based solely on your basic training?"

"I really wish it had been that easy, Sir. My last four or five months before my thirty-days leave were pure Hell, Sir; unfortunately, it's nothing I am at liberty to discuss." Xiùlán sighed as she rubbed one cheek "If you really need to see my records for that period, I was told they can be unsealed by any flag rank officer."

Nolan nodded, saying, "I'll have to speak with Captain Anderson. It'd be nice to know what training you had during that time period." Grasping his chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, he scanned through the information displayed before asking, "Is there any training you've had that is not covered by the NDA?"

Yuán smiled as she replied, "I'm an expert hand-to-hand combat specialist, Sir. Haven't met anyone on the mat yet—human, asari or turian—that could walk away under their own power. I've even killed a few batarians who were trying to kill me."

Nolan gawked at her in disbelief. "That's rather boastful. I've never met anyone so good at martial arts that they couldn't be beaten."

Yuán didn't blink or look away from Nolan's appraising stare. "Wouldn't say it if it wasn't the truth. Middle of my special training, the instructors couldn't find anyone that wished to spar with me on the mat … they all complained about how vicious I was as a fighter."

Nolan continued to look at this woman with a skeptical eye as he said, "Well, I think I need to put your statement to the test. I've been needing a good martial arts instructor. I'll set up a match for you … something that will allow me to observe your skills."

Yuán smiled as she replied, "Sounds good, Sir." After a brief pause, she added, "I hope your med bay staff is well-trained." Sensing her dismissal, she stood up and held out her hand. "Thank you, Sir."

Nolan stood and took her hand as he said, "Don't thank me just yet, Staff Lieutenant. Let's see how well you manage with the opponent I have in mind for you … you may not wish to thank me from a bed in the med bay." As she squeezed his hand slightly, he finally noticed her forearm, and immediately regretted his statement. Shit! If the rest of her body is as hardened as that arm, I may be visiting her opponent in the med bay.

• EXERCISE SUITE DELTA-TWO, ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO

Marine Master Sergeant Reuben Ortega was 172 kilos of pure muscle, with the typical Marine's dislike of Navy brass, from the lowliest 'enswine' to the captain of the boat. Ortega had been assigned by Commander Nolan to see how long it would take him to send Lieutenant Yuán out of the exercise suite on a stretcher.

Ortega hadn't been told anything about Yuán, so was surprised when a tall, pajama-clad Chinese woman had walked into the exercise area. As she approached the center of the square mat, Ortega noted she was barefoot, but wearing light sparring gloves, which the referee quickly checked for contraband before holding his hand up between them to explain the rules for the match—three 3-minute rounds, a minute of rest between each. Ortega growled, "Ya really think I'm gonna need more'n'a minute to break this chink bitch?"

Yuán stared coldly back at this sergeant, whom she now knew to be a racist, misogynistic Neanderthal, and calmly replied, "Ni de pìgu shì wo de!" [你的屁股是我的! – Your ass is mine!]

When the ref blew his whistle, Ortega, who had apparently attended the Krogan school of fighting, came at her so fast he couldn't do anything but continue plowing forward as Xiùlán simply dodged to her right to avoid him. As he spun about to come at her again, she employed her triple-snap punch, moving her arms and fists so fast they were a blur; using only some of the power in her corded arms, she hit him in the nose, mouth and below his right eye, staggering the man enough to completely halt his forward momentum. Ortega's nose was now bleeding, along with the insides of both his lips; this quickly turned his lower face into a bloody mess. Additionally, the area around his right eye was rapidly swelling and turning purple.

Shaking his head in an effort to clear the increasing fuzziness in his brain, he attempted to close with her so he could employ his own arms to hit her; as he swung at her with a massive right fist, she handily dodged the blow by spinning out of range. Ortega had never fought anyone so light on their feet, and it was hard for him to think as he squinted at her with his left eye, his right eye having swollen nearly shut.

Thinking to end this, Yuán ducked under the massive arms attempting to grapple with her; using the middle knuckles of her right fist, she punched him hard in the solar plexus, then quickly crouched and rolled out from under him as he dropped to his knees, unable to quell the spasms in his diaphragm. Regaining her feet to stand behind him, she placed her fingertips in the middle of his back and shoved, causing Ortega to fall forward onto the mat as the ref was frantically blowing his whistle to stop the match. Stepping to the edge of the mat, she dropped to a kneeling position, feet behind her, toes on the floor.

The referee called for a corpsman while he attempted to keep the Marine from losing consciousness. A pair of techs came running in with a hover-litter, which they employed to get him out of the suite and on his way to the closest med bay.

The referee, a hardened master sergeant himself, came over to Yuán and said, "Stand up, Lieutenant." In an apparently effortless, single move, Xiùlán rose to her feet to look down on the ref. Taking a step back in order to look up to her, he said, "I hope you realize how seriously you injured that man, Lieutenant."

"Was I mistaken, Sergeant? Did I not hear him say it would take less than a minute for him to, let me see, how did he put it? … Oh yeah, he said he was going to, quote: break this chink bitch, unquote."

The ref stared at her as if she'd just turned green and sprouted horns. "Trash talk, Lieutenant, nothing more.

"I could have injured him a lot worse, Sergeant," she responded. "It took a great deal of control to keep from permanently maiming him." Yuán lowered her voice as she looked hard at this sergeant and quietly hissed, "You'd do well to persuade him to apologize for his racist attitude, Sergeant."

Xiùlán's emphasis on his rank title didn't go unnoticed. Responding with, "Yes, Ma'am," he turned and stalked out of the room.

Commander Nolan approached her from the spectator's side of the area as she started to leave. "Lieutenant Yuán … a word?" Xiùlán turned and waited for Nolan to speak.

"Lieutenant, I have to concur with your former instructors and opponents. I don't believe I've ever seen anyone in a sparring session taken down so rapidly."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Yuán's face was an impassive mask.

"Granted."

"Sir, that Marine is a racist, misogynistic varren, and the ref isn't much better. It's more than a little disturbing for me to encounter these attitudes my first week on this ship … I hope they are the exceptions, and not the norm."

Nolan was a bit taken aback. "That's a pretty severe accusation, Lieutenant. I'm sure you've misinterpreted what was said."

In response, Yuán sighed and activated her omnitool … its captured audio played back Ortega's words as if he were standing in front of her. Staring hard at the Commander, Xiùlán said, "Did I miss something there?"

Nolan's dark complexion nearly hid the flush of embarrassment as he grimaced. "Lieutenant, I didn't ask for Ortega as your opponent in order for him to subject you to insults. I honestly felt he would provide you with some tough competition on this floor. Seems to me you provided him with a lesson instead."

Yuán replied, "I encountered similar racism more than enough times during my special training, back when I was a serviceman … I'm sorry that sergeant had to learn the hard way that I won't put up with it, from him, or anyone else on this ship."

"You won't have to, Lieutenant. Your psych eval mentioned you hoped to command a warship someday," he answered. "I'd say your attitude will serve you well. Go get cleaned up and changed … we'll go see Sergeant Ortega together."

"Actually, I don't want him thinking I'm running to the brass for backup, Sir. If he doesn't have the common sense to see his attitude is shit, your presence won't help. I can certainly deal with Mr Ortega on a personal level. If I have to pull rank, he'll find himself using those arms to clean out the toilets in the enlisted women's heads, Sir, … every damn one of them."

Nolan thought about her statement for a moment before saying, "Okay, Ms Yuán. Just, don't be too disappointed when you don't get the cooperation you're looking for. The Marines on this ship tend to be a bit … independent."

"Seems like you've just presented me with a challenge, Sir."

•MED BAY, ENLISTED MALE'S · SSV TOKYO •

Master Sergeant Ortega was lying in a Med Bay bed with the upper third titled up to assist his breathing. The cuts in his lips had been tended to, his bloody nose had been mended, and the area around his right eye was bandaged, no doubt with a layer of medigel applied in an effort to reduce the swelling. He had been given a healthy dose of analgesics, so was half asleep when Yuán quietly walked in, spoke for a moment with the corpsman on duty, then walked up to stand beside Ortega's bed.

The Marine wasn't sound asleep, so cracked his left eye open to see who was standing beside him; of all the people he might have expected to see, Staff Lieutenant Yuán was last on the list. Surprisingly, his attitude towards her wasn't nearly as bad as she'd expected; perhaps having his ass handed to him so rapidly and with such little effort had bought Yuán some measure of respect. "Whadda ya want?"

Xiùlán smiled as she pointed to the single silver bar on her collar. "Normally, I'd expect to hear you say 'Ma'am' at the end of that question, but you only have one good eye, so I'll let you slide."

Ortega had watched her arm—bare from wrist to mid-bicep—as she moved to point to her collar; glancing at her other arm, he suddenly realized this woman … this lieutenant … wasn't some lightweight pushover, at least not physically. She had some seriously developed muscle in those arms, something that had been hidden by her black silk pajamas. If the rest of this tall woman's body was as well-muscled, he had made a serious error in judgement in thinking she would be a pushover. "Ya fucked me up pretty bad, L'tenant," he wheezed through swollen lips. "Ya 'ere ta gloat?"

Yuán cocked her head slightly, saying, "No, Sergeant. Just wanted to see if you're going to be okay, and give you an opportunity to apologize. You allowed your ignorant bias towards people of my race to override whatever good sense you might possess."

The visible, unbandaged portion of the sergeant's face colored slightly as he shifted his one-eyed gaze to the foot of the med bed. After a few moments of silence, he looked back at her eyes, the sable brown appearing black in the low light of this portion of the compartment. "Ya 'ave my … 'pology … fer callin' ya a chink. Never actually met a Chinese 'afore … Ma'am. Wha' was it ya said ter me afore ya laid me out?"

"Ni de pìgu shì wo de?" Mandarin—Chinese language—for 'Your ass is mine'."

"Guess I shoulda paid better attention ter ya, huh? Might notta got hurt so damn bad."

Yuán wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook. "You apparently haven't had to deal with too many women, Mr Ortega. I know for a fact there's a chief warrant officer on Arcturus Station that could take you down just as fast, if not faster, and she doesn't have my easy-going attitude … I expect she quite possibly might have killed you."

The sergeant, trying to think of something to say to this lieutenant, remained silent for several moments as he stared up at her before asking, "Ain't Chinese, is she?"

Xiùlán chuckled as she replied, "No, Sergeant … she was my student … born in London, grew up on the colony of Horizon." With a small smile, Yuán added, "Hope you get healed up quick, Sergeant. I believe Commander Nolan will assign me to teaching a refresher course in hand-to-hand combat; you might benefit from some remedial training."

Turning, she started to walk away when Ortega's raspy voice caused her to pause. "Thanks fer comin' by, Ma'am."

Half turning to look back, she said in a quiet voice, "You're welcome, Sergeant."

• ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO, AT LARGE •

The SSV Tokyo appeared seemingly from nowhere, as it decelerated to an apparent halt beside the Mass Relay in the Utopia System; in reality, the massive vessel was still moving at a significant fraction of light speed as the pilots rolled it into a graceful turn to bring the ship about and set her on a course for Eden Prime, where the Marine garrison would be rotating soldiers out for earned leave; their replacements would be sent down from the Tokyo's Marine detachment in a routine deployment.

Yuán Xiùlán had spent the several weeks prior to this transfer as a close-combat instructor for those scheduled for deployment, refreshing the training the Marines had received in basic and advanced classes. Once she'd tossed a couple of the more stubborn skeptics over her head—in the same manner as she'd tossed an asari huntress out of the boundaries set by the practice mat during her own training on Luna base—the rest of the Marines conceded this woman knew exactly what she doing.

Any lingering doubts were laid to rest when word got out that she exercised alone each morning from 0545 until 0700; Xiùlán wore a pair of exercise shorts, coming only from hipbone to just above mid-thigh—placing the remaining scars from her classified adventure in the Nemean Abyss on full display, along with her impressively muscled legs—and a sleeveless, cropped compression top, allowing full view of the massive musculature of her arms and the pronounced definition of her abs, along with a partial view of the jewel-toned shades of greens and golds forming the elaborate dragon tattoo on her back. As impressive as the extraordinary development of the musculature over her body was, her intricate moves with and without her nángùn, along with the pummeling she inflicted on the heavy bag with her hands and feet every day, convinced any and all watching that this woman was an absolute artist at the physical aspects of combat.

Commander Nolan had told Yuan privately that Master Sergeant Ortega, over the course of the several weeks prior to the Tokyo's arrival over Eden Prime, had developed a grudging respect for her knowledge and abilities, so much so that he'd taken to defending her against the insults he'd endured for being 'whupped by a girl'. While he continued to intensely dislike naval brass, he had become much less vocal about it.

Deploying with the 88 other Marines being transferred onto Eden Prime, Ortega and Master Sergeant Alvarado—the referee during her take-down of Ortega—would be replacing two of the eight squad leaders rotating out for R&R. Yuán stood by in the hanger as four UT-47's departed the hanger deck for the planet's surface, returning in short order to disgorge the troops rotating out from the garrison; the empty shuttles were then boarded by the last replacements being sent down.

As Ortega and Alvarado walked by Yuán to board their shuttles, each of them stuck out their hands. Smiling, she said, "Zhù ni haoyùn, Sergeant," [祝你好運] to each of them as she grasped their forearms. The odd looks she received from them were met with a translation of "Means Good luck … I hope you both do well down there."

In response, Ortega actually grinned back at her. "Thank ya, Ma'am. Same fer ya."

Once the shuttles returned with the rest of the Marines from the surface, the Tokyo would return to the Local Cluster by way of Arcturus in order to transfer the just retrieved soldiers to Earth for shore leave.

• SYSTEMS ALLIANCE, WESTERN NORTH AMERICA HQ · VANCOUVER, BC •

The Tokyo had made its trip to the Sol system, where the Marines just off deployment to the garrisons on Eden Prime had been sent planetside for their leave. While the ship was in the system, Captain David Anderson rode down with the Marines in the last departing shuttle in order to meet with Alliance Marine General RaeLee Park at the North American Headquarters in Vancouver.

Anderson had been approached by Lieutenant Commander Randall Nolan, who had concerns about the rather sparse record of the recently transferred Staff Lieutenant; Nolan had asked Anderson to inquire about Yuán's record, hoping he could then make a recommendation on how to best utilize her on the ship. Admiral Hackett, after viewing the woman's record, had refused to divulge any of the highly classified information, suggesting instead that Anderson speak with Yuán's handler for that thirty-seven month time period, saying, "The admirals responsible for sealing her records are well above my paygrade, David … hell, they're at the very top of the chain; going to General Park will probably be an exercise in futility, but she may be able to shed some light on why she offered an officer's commission to a Service Chief. This woman must really be exceptionally good at everything she does."

Anderson thought about Hackett's words as he stepped out of the shuttle into a damp, late winter morning. He didn't like secrets, especially when it concerned crew members of his own ship. I really hope this general will shed some light on Yuán's hidden past, he thought, or this trip down here will have been a waste of time for us both.

Walking smartly into the lobby of the main building, he paused at the reception desk and waited for a moment; the corporal behind the big desk looked up, standing to attention immediately upon recognizing the rank of the large man standing patiently before her. "Corporal Flynn, at your service, Sir. What may I do for you?"

Anderson smiled as he replied, "As you were, Corporal; I'm here to meet with General Park … I believe she's expecting me."

Flynn consulted the terminal display on her desk for a moment; receiving an answer to her single-key request, she looked back up at Anderson. "If you will follow me, Sir?"

The corporal ushered Anderson down a passageway to pause before a closed door; after rapping her knuckles lightly on the surface, she opened the door and stood aside for the captain to enter. Standing behind her desk, the general waved Anderson towards the chair beside her desk as she said, "Please hold my calls, Flynn."

As her young aide acknowledged Park's request and closed the office door behind her, the general offered her hand to Anderson as she smiled a greeting. "Captain Anderson … a pleasure to meet you at last. I've heard more than a few tales of your exploits in the wild frontier of the Terminus." Waving at the chair beside her desk, she said, "Have a seat. Would you care for something to drink while we chat?"

"I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee, Ma'am."

Park chuckled as she took a few steps to a side table. "First time we've met, with an important topic to discuss? Sure you wouldn't care for something a bit stronger … scotch and soda, perhaps?"

Anderson chuckled. "That would suit me just fine, General Park."

After a few moments, Park brought over a pair of heavy crystal tumblers half-full of golden liquid, setting them on the desk between them. Taking a seat in her chair, she said, "We can dispense with the titles in this room, if you wish. My name is RaeLee." Picking up her glass, she took a sip as she watched Anderson over the rim.

Anderson smiled as he took a couple of sips from the glass Park had filled for him. "We have titles for some very good reasons, General, but I don't suppose that's of much concern when people are friends. Are you a friend … RaeLee?"

Park's smile was infectious. "I'd like to be a friend … David. Never understood the sometimes enmity between Marine and Naval personnel … We're all in the service to do the best we can for the Alliance." Picking up a datapad, she fixed Anderson with her eyes and stated, "Now, let's discuss what brought you all the way here from the outer colonies."

• ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO, AT LARGE •

The Tokyo had returned to Arcturus Stream, there to take on additional stores for its trip to the Petra Nebula; batarian pirates had been reported to be traveling between the Kite's Nest and Hades Gamma clusters; the appearance of any ship flying batarian colors was cause for alarm in the Exodus Cluster, the nexus between the two systems.

Captain David Anderson looked up as Yuán Xiùlán entered his office, there to stand in front of his desk at parade rest. Smiling up at her, Anderson said, "Yuán … Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat." Returning his attention to the datapad he was holding, he continued, "I managed to find a Marine who would talk to me about your redacted service record, Lieutenant." Anderson looked at her as he continued, "I believe you know her … General RaeLee Park?" He let out a small chuckle as he continued, "Unfortunately, her willingness to speak to me and her ability to provide the details I was looking for were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Other than the observable things like your martial arts skill and that rather telling scar on your leg, she was less than forthcoming about the level of training you've received or specifics on any of your ground missions."

Taking a sip of water from the glass in front of him, he looked up at Xiùlán apologetically as he did so. "I'm sorry … allow me to just …" he set his glass down, picked up a pitcher and poured a second glass full of ice water; setting the glass in front of her as she thanked him, he continued on. "Park did mention you had some mis-adventures out in the Traverse and the Nemean Abyss, but wouldn't provide mission details concerning those assignments, either … she said top brass ordered the program terminated and your records sealed. She did tell me you achieved Ø7 status during your time in the program, but that's all I could coax out of her. It must be disappointing to have a vocational code eliminated just as you've reached the highest level attainable within the specialty."

Xiùlán commented, "Not nearly as disappointing to me as it was to my partner, Sir."

After pausing to study the datapad for a few more moments, Anderson commented, "Your latest evaluation indicates you're holding tight to a goal of one day commanding an Alliance warship. Park seems to think you have both the drive and the capability to be one of our best, so … it looks like I need to have a talk with Lieutenant Commander Nolan—have him assign you to a rotation of jobs that will teach you how to be an outstanding executive officer … navigation, communications, piloting, that sort of thing. It's all stuff you need to be capable of doing. Study hard, learn well. I can't imagine you won't make XO on some lucky bastard's boat … more than likely a frigate to start."

Taking another sip of water, Xiùlán set the glass down and replied, "Understood, Sir. I have to learn to float before I can learn to swim, correct? Is there anything else?"

Shaking his head, Anderson answered, "Not at this time, Lieutenant. I'll have Mr Nolan devise a schedule that will allow you to start applying some of the lessons General Park assures me you have learned to real-world situations. For now, head over to the CIC … introduce yourself to my XO, Commander Tyler … Alicia Tyler. She's smart … and extremely knowledgeable about every system on the Tokyo. I'll send her a note right now, tell her you're coming to see her."

"Thank you, Sir." Standing, Yuán offered her hand as she added, "I'm really looking forward to it."

The SSV Tokyo, along with five frigates, had been patrolling the shipping corridors between the Utopia System Mass Relay and the Antaeus System relay in the Hades Gamma Cluster; ships belonging to the batarian hegemony had been making increasingly frequent transits of the relay pair after arriving from the Kite's Nest. These vessels invariably ignored the presence of the Alliance battle group, staying in-system only as long as it took for the relay to complete its ponderous realignment dance with the Antaeus relay. Additionally, their patrols took them to Elysium on an irregular schedule that was purposely designed to appear random when it was anything but.

It was during one of these trips to the Vetus system that Yuán was able to demonstrate her technical skills. As the Tokyo entered the system, their comms came alive with distress calls from Elysium, reporting numerous shuttles landing slavers at several locations around the planet; the reports told of attackers concentrating their efforts away from the capitol city of Illyria. Anderson quickly assigned six fire teams—supported by four A-61 gunships—to deploy from the Tokyo in order to engage the attackers and prevent them from leaving Elysium with any of its citizens. The frigates accompanying the Tokyo would also deploy Marines to defend the colonies, while they and the Tokyo would locate and either capture or destroy the slaver's ships in orbit around the planet.

Yuán, aided by the ship's VI, was operating the cruiser's mid-range and short-range sensor suites; she was able to accurately plot the slaver's support ships on the tactical map, currently displaying a digital representation of Elysium, along with the settlements under attack and her own battle group. She sent proposed course corrections to the navigator's console; these were designed to bring the Tokyo into an optimum position to effectively fire its mass accelerator cannons and medium range missiles. As soon as the A-61's and the shuttles carrying the ground teams launched, XO Tyler engaged the navigator's seemingly unorthodox course change.

With the inertia dampeners at full power, the pilots initiated the course and velocity correction, bringing the massive ship around to a new heading in a maneuver that had the hull creaking from the strain. The five frigates accompanying the cruiser had no trouble keeping pace, although their captains expressed surprise at the Tokyo's new-found ability to fly as if it were a much smaller vessel. Once the ship had steadied up on its new course, Tyler initiated a short-duration FTL jump that brought the battle group within ten kilometers of the enemy ships.

Immediately upon dropping back to sub-light velocity, Anderson ordered the weapons officer to fire both 490 meter cannons at the targeted ship as the cruiser's VI jammed all comms frequencies to prevent the enemies from calling for help; although the attacking teams on the ground were a mix of humans and batarians, the support ships were batarian—LADaR had painted one of the two as a Thar'Van class assault frigate—registration came back as the Plague Trader. At 380 meters in length, it was 30 percent smaller than the Tokyo, but its two 300 meter and two 150 meter mass accelerators made it a formidable foe for its size; its lack of missile bays, along with a decidedly inferior auxiliary targeting system, didn't make the ship any less dangerous—it was reliable, durable, and being encountered in increasing numbers in the Terminus. The second ship was an Aeon class frigate, also well armored and armed, although its primary function here would seem to be as a transport for attacking ground forces coming in.

The five frigates accompanying the Tokyo rapidly closed the distance to the pair, resulting in immediate attempts by both vessels to turn and run. The frigates began firing broadsides and missiles at both ships, targeting the engines and shield emitters of the Thar'Van assault frigate, while targeting the engines of the Aeon frigate.

Immediately upon taking a hit from one of the Tokyo's mass cannons, the Plague Trader rolled and dove in order to present as small a silhouette as possible; once safely below the cruiser's line of fire, the enemy captain cut his engines while spinning his ship on its axis. Drifting backwards away from the Tokyo, he attempted to ignore the three Alliance frigates that had followed his maneuver while taking aim at the Tokyo's belly with his own mass accelerators.

Before Anderson could respond to the threat by turning and accelerating away, the Tokyo was the recipient of one of the two 10-kilo slugs fired from the Plague Trader; the round penetrated the kinetic barrier and destroyed the armor plating at its impact point. The concussion rocked the ship and caused several electrical fires in the propulsion control compartments in engineering. Tyler was on the comms, calling for DC teams to extinguish the fires before they got out of control; as the Tokyo attempted to move out of the firing line of the Plague Trader's weapons, Anderson had the pilots pivot and roll the ship on its axis in an attempt to once again bring his own mass accelerators to bear.

At the same time, the Aeon frigate was now adrift, leading the frigate SSV Midway to move alongside it in an attempt to land a boarding party. Xiùlán had been busy gathering sensor data from the Plague Trader; returning her attention to the Aeon class frigate, she keyed her internal comm and said, "Commander, core breach imminent, secondary target." Commander Tyler reacted immediately, ordering evasive action as she activated the fleet wide comms to order the Midway to stand off. Captain McKay was responding to Tyler's order, saying the enemy ship needed to be boarded—his message was cutoff in mid-transmission by an explosion, seemingly out of all proportion to the size of the enemy frigate destroyed by it.

The bow section of the Midway's port side, including the cockpit and CIC, was breached by the concussive wave of the Aeon frigate's core explosion; additionally, the ship had been hurled violently away and was in an uncontrolled spiral towards the planet below. Tyler's desperate attempts to contact the Midway were to no avail … the crew in the CIC could only watch their instruments and hope that a few people were able to make it to escape pods before the vessel succumbed to atmospheric friction and burned up.

Captain Anderson had repositioned the Tokyo and fired four missiles at the Thar'Van frigate just as an incoming comms signal intruded. Tyler answered the call, only to discover a four-eyed vision from hell on the other end. "Tokyo… This is Fleet Captain Sorish Pad'falor of the Hegemony ship Plague Trader. You have caused the deaths of over thirty of the people taken from Elysium, along with the batarian crew of the Aeon frigate that just exploded." He tilted his head to the right in a blatant show of contempt, while the sounds of his own ship being hit by missiles fired by the Tokyo and accompanying frigates wafted through the connection. "You obviously feel no sorrow or compassion for the crew of the … what was the name of that ship? Ah, yes, the Midway … and her crew complement, Captain. Your misguided attempt to prevent us from taking a few of the people from your illegal colonies on Elysium has cost your kind nearly a hundred people."

As the batarian captain was speaking with Anderson, Xiùlán was probing the Plague Trader with every sensor at her disposal. Based on her readings from the Thar'Van frigate, she sent a recommended course and speed to the navigator's console while messaging XO Tyler that the Eezo core inside the batarian ship was exhibiting increasing signs of a critical overload. She was also collecting and collating damage and injury reports from the DC teams below, which she also sent to Tyler's console.

Tyler reactivated her own terminal, transmitted the navigator's course and speed recommendations to her own pilots and to the four surviving frigates, along with an order to standby for maneuvering; she then returned her attention to Captain Anderson, who was in the midst of telling the batarian captain he should prepare to be boarded. Cutting the connection, Anderson ordered the firing of another round of missiles while instructing Commander Tyler to reposition the ship in order to bring his broadsides to once again bear on the Plague Trader. "Do you have a damage report, Commander?"

"Damage was confined to control circuits inside number two main engine interface compartment, Sir," she replied. "Fourteen injured, three severely … and … one casualty. All fires have been extinguished and engineers are bypassing the damaged circuitry. Hull plating is buckled between frame 295 and 305, keel left 20."

As Anderson was listening to the damage report, the pilots completed repositioning the ship—a chime sounded on the fire-control panel, indicating the broadsides were once again in a position to fire effectively. Anderson brought his fist down on the firing key as he said, "Fire everything at that bastard!" Nineteen 30 meter cannons fired sequentially, all but two rounds striking the Plague Trader's engines, shield emitters and weapons pods; this resulted in several explosions in the batarian ship's engine nacelles, leaving it with only maneuvering thrusters to navigate. There were broadsides firing back at the Tokyo, but their fire control system, never a strong point when it was operating at 100 percent, was damaged as well, leaving the weapons operators with no effective way to accurately aim their guns.

Anderson pointed at the comms tech, who sent a message request to the Plague Trader. Fleet Captain Pad'falor answered, although the video image was filled with static, to the point the image was 'tearing' and 'rolling' sporadically. "Ah, Captain Anderson. The Plague Trader is now yours to command. We will stand by for your boarding team."

With a murmured, "Lā shi!" [拉屎！– Shit!] Xiùlán stood up and said, "Captain," as she made a slashing motion with her hand at her throat. Anderson was smart enough to realize none of the crew in the CIC would interrupt him unless it was absolutely necessary. Cutting the audio send portion of the comms, he looked straight at Xiùlán as he said, "Lieutenant?"

"Sensors indicate a massive energy overload being applied to their Eezo core, Captain. A catastrophic explosion appears to be imminent. We should get clear, Sir."

The corners of Anderson's mouth turned up slightly as he unmuted the audio comms. "Fleet Captain Pad'falor … standby. Our boarding teams will be joining you shortly." Cutting the comms, he looked to Yuán and asked, "How long, Lieutenant?"

"Estimate less than thirty seconds, Sir."

"Commander Tyler, at fifteen seconds, begin moving away from the Plague Trader. At five seconds, jump to FTL."

Tyler relayed instructions to the four remaining frigates; watching the countdown timer on her own terminal, she sent the command to the pilots at sixteen seconds. She counted down to six seconds, commanded the jump and held on.

The Tokyo and the remaining four frigates jumped through the upper fringes of Elysium's atmosphere, leaving a brilliant trail of blue-tinged ionized gases in their wakes as the Plague Trader disappeared in a blinding flash of intense blue-white, colors similar to that in the center of the spinning rings containing the Eezo core that was at the heart of every Mass relay.