The night on Jorinda was cool and the breeze languid. The stirred humid air carrying with it the moist organic scents of a jungle. And ever so slightly rustling the bough of the tree in which I crouched. The rustling of the leaves like myriad indecipherable whispers. None of this held my attention as did the sight before me however some five hundred meters distant.

Valak's information had been good. Nestled at the foot of a local mountain range, sat a disused and abandoned looking mining complex.

Abandoned was not the right word however. For even with ordinary eyes one would have been able to see the lights that signaled habitation. And seen the tiny figures of armed guards patrolling the heights of the wall that towered some five meters above. The walls rimed the complex in a semicircular border around it. Marking clearly the limits of the jungle that surrounded it. Three gates led in, to the right, middle, and left, equidistant to one another.

The complex was of a size to be considered a settlement in its own right, I could see hundreds of inhabited structures. And I felt myself look at Valak's reluctance to provoke Balarek with more charity than I had previously.

Balarek must have had hundreds of men garrisoning this place. Sure it was doubtful that all but a small handpicked number of them had anything resembling the discipline and training of professional soldiery. But the weight of numbers and the vicious low cunning so common in such men would have been a daunting challenge to a poorly armed and trained gaggle of miners and farmers.

Though not, it seemed. To me.

I could easily scale the walls. And no enemy, no matter how skilled or how disciplined. Had ever been a match for me in combat. Regardless of numbers or training. My strength, my agility, my reflexes. And my battle senses were in excess of any ordinary unenhanced opponent. Numbers wouldn't save them, I would carve through this rabble like a sickle through wheat.

It was during my observation of one of the walls, assessing possible weakpoints. And idly memorizing the patrol route of the guards. That I heard the distant droning bellow of a klaxon somewhere within the complex. Immediately there was a flurry of activity on the wall, and for the briefest of moments I felt a dump of adrenaline and the worry that I had perhaps been sighted by one of the sentries on guard. The worry dispelled as quickly as it had manifested however as I sighted the true reason for the sudden burst of activity breaching the treeline and approaching the middle gate at speed.

It was a convoy of armored troop transports. Three in total, top mounted autocannons swiveling to and fro, and the distinctive shape of Balareks insignia in evidence upon the doors and hoods of each. They screeched to a halt before the gate and before long the passenger side door swung open, and I was suddenly struck by the sudden and intense regret that I hadn't thought to bring a sniper rifle.

It was him, Balarek. Even with my eyes, expressions at this distance could be difficult to discern. But his body language was furtive and skittish. And he was quick to bark out indistinct orders, causing what looked to be a small army of armed and armored men to pour out of the transports, putting a wall of armored flesh between himself and the rest of the world.

There was shouting on both sides of the gate for a few minutes, and then with a groan of massive unoiled hinges, and the distinct whirring of mechanical components. The gate's two enormous doors swung outwards.

Within stood waiting a small retinue to greet Balarek. And, standing in imposing state at their head. Was perhaps the most enormous Batarian I had ever seen. His immense stature dwarfing all others in attendance. And his herculean physique in stark evidence despite the bulk of the olive colored armor in which he was clad. Yet despite his enormous size, I saw him move with a shocking level of poise and grace as he bowed to the warlord with an air of deference that came close to obsequiousness.

Balarek, who in his turn seemed used to the giant's servile courtesies, simply waved a flippant hand for him to raise his head. The two exchanged a few quick words, and though I could hear nothing of what was said. The sonorous baritone of the giant's voice was evident, even from that distance.

Their discussion, whatever its subject matter. Was by that point, evidently concluded. And the small army that Sedibus had arrayed to protect him followed him in as he stalked behind the protection of the complex's walls.

As the last guard passed the threshold and the transports slowly trundled inside. The gates swung shut, slamming closed with an echoing clang.

I remained for a while longer after that. Memorizing patrol routes, and making note of the various weaknesses and points of exploitable imperfection in the enemies defenses. Before finally quitting the premises. A part of me, vicious and insistent. Wanted so very desperately to attack now. To lash out with arcane might and fury and tear down those gates. And butcher every living thing between myself and Balarek.

It was a close thing, oh so perilously close. But a quieter, more rational part of me won the internal war that raged within. It reasoned that even as powerful as I was. Only a fool would attack such a position unprepared. I would arm and armor myself, I would hone my mind and my blades. And then I would do what vengeance demanded.

The streets were mostly deserted when I finished my return journey. It was after midnight so the only people still about were either those who had no homes to retire to. Or stumbling drunkards that were trickling out of the local watering holes and back home. I made to appear as one among the many. Casting a small low-level illusion to deflect attention and leaves holes in the memories of those who directly observed me. As far as those people were concerned, they had seen something the night I walked past them. But whatever that was would be beyond their power to recall.

Which made it curious that I had acquired a tail.

Rarely, though still quite uncommonly I would encounter those with a greater sensitivity to supernatural phenomena than most. Beings possessed either of exceptionally sharp minds and senses. Or even those, like Jane with remarkable innate potential. Though the latter group was as rare as rare could possibly be. In my estimation, the chance to run across such a person was one in a million. And even that felt excessively optimistic. I could count the number I had encountered on a blind butcher's fingers. And count the number I knew personally on a singular one.

Whichever this unknown was, they kept steady pace with me. Hanging around 30 paces back, working to always keep me in their sights. A part of me commended them, I had been In a constant state of vigilance since beginning my mission. Were it not for my enhanced senses I suspected I would never have figured out they were there.

Who had sent them? Was this another lackey of Aria's sent to keep an eye on me? Had I alerted Sedibus somehow? Had anyone sent them at all? Perhaps this was simply a local pickpocket that had woefully misjudged an easy mark?

"Only one way to know."

I concluded. I ensured that nothing in my outward stance changed as I began to alter my route, taking the first turn I could see and abruptly turning into it. Stopping as soon as I was sure I was no longer observed and resting my back against the wall around the corner.

Before too long, sure enough, I heard the distinct sound of fast footsteps. And as the figure strode past my arm snaked out to clamp viselike around theirs. Their reaction was immediate, twisting like a caught cat to escape my grip. Against an ordinary person their struggles might have proven worthwhile. But it was a forgone conclusion for me to force their arm behind their back and bring them to the ground. Driving a knee into their back and using my other leg to pin their free arm. While my other hand held my knife perilously close to his throat.

"Call for help and you die."

I hissed.

"Go for a weapon and you die. Give me any reason to think you'll be anything other than perfectly cooperative and you. Will. Die. Understood?"

I saw the head under the hood nod minutely. And after a moment's consideration I yanked it back to get a better look at this poor sod.

I itemized his features as I observed them. Human, male, pale skinned and in his late thirties. Messy blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. And facial features that strike me as vaguely familiar.

"Start talking."

Whoever he was, the bastard had the temerity to smirk.

"What about?"

I resisted the urge to bounce his skull off the pavement but only by the narrowest of margins. I clenched my teeth and let the tip of my dagger dig ever so slightly into the meat of his neck. The cold unyielding steel not piercing flesh but leaving him with a potent reminder that I could, with an errant twitch. Open his neck to the night air and leave him to drain out like a butchered pig.

"We can start with who sent you to follow me. After that you can start answering other questions. Like why I shouldn't turn your insides into your outsides."

I said. He nodded.

"So, spill my guts or you'll…. Spill my guts?"

"You're awfully glib for someone with a knife to his neck."

Again he smiled.

"Part of my charm. As for who sent me? A concerned friend, with a vested interest in your continued survival."

"And does this friend happen to be named Aria?"

I asked rhetorically, my exasperation with his blasé attitude coloring my words. At that he actually laughed, an airy little chuckle that shouldn't have come from a man in the circumstance he was in.

"Oh good lord no! Honestly I think they would resent the comparison. Let's just say you've got more people in your corner then you realize."

I hissed in low exasperation.

"A name you fool, give me a name. Or so help me I'll open your throat and let you spend your last moments choking on your own blood."

He shook his head.

"I can't, the walls might have ears. Even here, and I value their life too much to risk letting it slip that they're still kicking. If that disappoints you, then kill me. But then you'll never learn what I can share about Balarek."

"I already know all that I need to about him."

I bit out. "I know that he ran from the scene of his crime and has now cloistered himself in a shell of armor and hired guns. I know that he's cornered himself. Secure in the false belief that walls and hired muscle will keep him safe. And I know that by this time tomorrow night. I will have mounted his head onto a spike."

He chuckled at that. Shaking his head ruefully and looking at me with a galling expression of seemingly sincere pity.

"Then you're in for a rude awakening kid, you think he's lasted as long as he has by being stupid? He's wilier than most realize, and has access to resources you wouldn't believe. And he's got at least one ace up his sleeve that I know you won't be ready for."

I let the knife's tip prick at the pale skin of his throat ever so slightly. A needle thin trickle of ruby red tracing a line down the flesh of his exposed neck.

"Then by all means, leverage your knowledge in exchange for your life. Tell me what he could possibly have that I would not be equal to."

"I can, I will. But you need to agree to something first."

This time I laughed.

"Do you honestly think you're in a position to negotiate?"

"You're making a mistake. Information for a promise. That's all I'm asking."

For the briefest of moments I let myself consider his words.

"No."

I said.

"Either you're in league with Balarek. Or you're lying in an effort to save your own skin. Either way you've wasted enough of my time."

His only response to that was to shake his head.

"Shame."

Then there was suddenly a click. And my world was transformed into a storm of deafening noise and incandescent unbearably bright light. The worst part, I would later reflect. Was that my enhanced senses had actually worsened the effects of the flashbang. Addling my senses and leaving me disoriented for likely far longer than if I had been relying on my ordinary faculties.

As I stumbled back from the cacophony, suddenly as discoordinated and stumbling as a newborn. I felt the man beneath me give a great heave that was beyond me in my current state to arrest. And I heard faintly as heavy footfalls raced away from me in a direction that I could not have hoped to triangulate.

I stood there a few moments more, as the disorientation and nausea finally began to pass. My vision swam back into focus. And I was greeted by the predictable sight of my quarry's absence. I ground out a low growl of frustration as I returned my weapon to its place on my belt with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary. I would have turned from there to return back to my lodgings. More than a little embarrassed with myself that I had allowed myself to fall for such an obvious and simple trick. If I hadn't spotted something rather incongruous, lying on the ground roughly where he had laid.

A holotab, its screen active. And a message typed across it.

I bent to pick it up, reading the transcribed message with a hawkish eye.

Didn't think I'd get through to you the first time, no worries. Give me a ring when you've blown off that head of steam k? -AJP

Below that amusingly glib little message were a string of numbers I recognized Idly as contact information. A part of me was tempted to simply crush the device into scrap and banish him from my mind. But something I couldn't quite identify staid my hand, and I slipped the device into a jacket pocket.

I stalked out of the alley with a crowd of questions begging for answers, who was this AJP? Who had sent him? And why? And perhaps most interesting, why did I feel like I knew him? As if some part of me recognized him?

I returned to the Togulsa residence a little while later. Temper somewhat cooled, though far from assuaged.

As I entered, I could vaguely hear the sounds of the family at rest. And I felt a small pang of sympathy for Ranira as I heard the log sawing drone of Valak's snoring. One of the house's occupants however, didn't seem in any mood for sleep.

I found the turian sitting alone quietly at the now empty table. His fingers crossed in front of him and his forehead resting against his hands. Despite myself, I felt for a moment that I had stepped in on something I ought not have. A private vulnerable moment. I would have stepped away without saying a word. If my presence had not been noticed. He spun around suddenly as I made to depart. And, for reasons I couldn't place. I felt suddenly that I had been caught in some kind of wrongdoing.

An awkward silence hung over the pair of us.

"I….see you're still awake."

If anything, my words seemed to heap more awkwardness upon the situation. And the turian seemed to feel it keenly as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yeah, I've got a lot on my mind I guess. Thinking about…. family and all that."

The turian, evidently seeking to take the subject off of him. Looked at me quizzically.

"So where've you been? Did you find out anything about Balarek?"

I made to sit and then nodded.

"Yep, Valak's information was good. Balarek has himself a little fortress. It's an old mine, bored right into the side of the mountain from the looks of it. If I had to guess it used to house all the workers and their families onsite. Which would account for the size. It's got fortified walls, armed guards. Whole nine yards. Looks like a tough nut to crack."

He looked at me and then down at his hands. I heard him sigh.

"So that's it then?"

My eyes flicked to his.

"What do you mean?"

Even with my limited mastery of turian facial expressions it was impossible to miss the incredulity in his face and in his tone.

"What do I mean? He's gone to ground. He's behind a fortress' worth of walls and guns. You missed your chance."

I leaned back in my chair and scoffed.

"I imagine you think that's a problem for me."

"You can't be serious."

He said, I could hear the disbelief in his tone. The creeping certainty that I was either insane or staggeringly arrogant.

"I don't care how dangerous you are. I don't care if every insane rumor about you is the honest truth. You aren't invincible and you can't do this alone. He has an army and a fortress, you have neither. All you have is a single ship, yourself and me. And I never agreed to do anything other than follow you until this was done."

I felt my temper rise as he spoke.

"I never expected you to fight, nor do I want you to. I suspect you would only get in the way. If you had even the smallest idea of what I'm truly capable of, the slightest inkling of just how true some of those stories were. You wouldn't doubt me as you do now. I don't need your help, I don't need anyone's help."

At this his voice finally raised to match his mood,

"Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea how insane what you're saying sounds?! You are one man, an insanely dangerous one, I'll grant. But still just one man. One man can't beat an army. You need to step back, evaluate the situation. And come up with some sort of plan."

"As I've stated before, I'm not most men."

I said.

"I don't require your belief in me to do what I came here to do. Nor do I require a plan. I've waited too long for this opportunity for it to be snatched from me by indecision! One way or another, tomorrow Sedibus Balarek is going to die."

Abruptly he surged to his feet.

"You're going to get yourself killed, you idiot!"

I in turn did the same, my aspect growing terrible as we stared each other down across the table. The dim lighting deepening the shadows over our faces and exaggerating our shared expressions of stubborn anger.

With a scoff I averted my gaze, and turned to leave the room. Feeling his eyes bore a hole into my back. I had no desire to continue listening to his doubts, and I had preparations to make.

You know, I have spent months agonizing over what to make of the end of this chapter. Wrestling with writer's block Heracles himself could not have vanquished. And you know what? I think there comes a point where you just have to say "fuck it." Throw up your hands and let yourself just step away from something. The chapter decided it was done. And nothing I could do was going to force it to go on. So here it is. It's short, and boring. And has an ending like a wet fart. But it's what I could force myself to do. The next one will hopefully be better and more exciting. And come out sooner. Since It's one I've been looking forward to writing for a while. Expect lots of drama, angst. And extremely lurid description of pirates, slavers and other bad guys being chopped into hamburger meat by a vengeful superhuman sorcerer.

On to other things.

There's a small but noticeable group of readers that you see In a lot of stories that have this interesting little habit of writing reviews wherein they tell the author that because of some unforgivable flaw. They will no longer be reading their story. Now, if you're one of those people. I'm about to tell you something that a lot of your favorite authors are much too possessed of class and social skills to say outright.

We. Do not. Give. A fuck.

What outcome do you expect your review to cause? Do you think the author in question is going to dramatically faint onto the nearest piece of furniture like a consumption riddled Victorian ingenue, and lament that xX133tN4rut0A55a51nXx will no longer be gracing them with his Patronage? Do you think that any of us give two shits that one or two of the literal dozens, hundreds or even thousands of people who consume our work have decided to spend their time on something else? Do you think your favorite authors lie awake at night? Wondering wistfully what might have been, if xX133tN4rut0A55a51nXx had not left them?

If you're no longer interested in the story. Just stop reading. Nobody is impressed by your performative need to show the world just how much a story rustled your widdle jimmies. And, again. Nobody cares.

And another thing!

All right.

I've been holding this one for a while but I've frankly spent more time looking at your profiles than is strictly seemly and I just can't keep quiet about this anymore.

You motherfuckers don't know what "Favorites" are for.

Yeah I'm talking to you. You indecisive dipstick with like 200 stories in your favorites tab. Do you even remember what half of them are about? Or did you just vaguely like a few chapters of some random story you read like five years back. Added it to your favorites and then never thought about it again? The favorites tab is supposed to be for stuff you think is genuinely exceptional. Don't just toss whatever stories you think are mildly acceptable or that you want to watch out for updates on. That's what following is for. I mean really, Every single one of those 359 stories, some of which you haven't read since before you graduated high school, are your favorites?

No I DONT think I'm taking this too seriously! I'm not mad you are!

All right, got all that out of my system. Thanks for reading. Be sure to tell me how much you hated it. See you soon….ish.

- Dark