by HR Ringer
Buchanan chuckled and shook his head. “The pair of you? Out of my league, totally. I’ve heard tales of how you go at each other in what you euphemistically refer to as ‘training’. Surprised you haven’t managed to kill one another.”
“Sammy’s my whole life, Chief… couldn’t hurt her if I wanted to. You should have seen her when we met… she’s come further, achieved more in the nearly two years we’ve been together than most people ever dream of. And she’s taught me so much. Nearly lost her to batarian pirates in the Dis system, Chief. I never want to feel that kind of pain again.” A haunted look briefly passed across Xiùlán’s face, replaced by her normally impassive mask almost before Buchanan could be sure of what he’d seen. He was sure in his mind that this woman would do anything for Traynor… even die for her. “How would you refer to Traynor and yourself, Yuán? I mean, as soldiers?”
“We’re Lóng yǐn, [龍隱] that is to say, hidden dragons. We have to perform assignments too risky or politically sensitive for traditional specialists, and we have to be ready to act aggressively… to complete our missions and protect ourselves and each other.”
“Is that how you got involved in doing the dirty work for the asari?”
“I don’t consider it dirty work, Griff. It’s clandestine, to be sure, but the asari don’t train for this type of recovery. Their commandos are adept at ambush, infiltration, and assassination. I myself trained with an asari commando… Aglyna T’Sega. Would have killed her with an omni-blade up through her vitals if her handler hadn’t slapped me with a stasis field.” Xiùlán looked down for a moment and frowned at the memory. “I consider her a friend, now… we learned a great deal from each other. It was a rewarding experience.”
Lights began to come on in the darkened warehouse and offices. “Dayshift’s getting started,” Griff observed. “Better get out of here… Go book a room for a bit until Traynor arrives.” Xiùlán picked up her gear bags and with a nod, turned to follow Buchanan out of the warehouses.
* * *
* CARTAGENA STATION, TEN HOURS LATER *
The MSV Ornate Quasar was within fifteen minutes of arriving at the lower freight unloading docks to Cartagena Station. Seated alone next to a viewport, Samantha Traynor appeared to be watching the operation outside the ship’s hull with rapt attention; in reality, she was surreptitiously sending a text to Xiùlán, who had already been aboard the station for nearly ten hours, seven to eight of that with Operations Chief ‘Griff’ Buchanan. With her torso turned away from the center aisle, the deep purple glow of Traynor’s omni-tool was hidden from view by anyone casually passing her seat.
Xiùlán sent Sammy their location – sub-level one, section four – along with a warning that the station’s security forces, which were primarily populated by batarian mercenaries with only an official station uniform tagging them as ‘not quite’ pirates, were decidedly not friendly to humans, of either gender.
Traynor smiled at this. Batarians as a race had been unfriendly towards humans since the early 2160's, due to their ongoing efforts to colonize the Skyllian Verge, a region batarians were already settling. Interactions between the two species continued to deteriorate until the attack on Elysium in 2176. The Alliance retaliation against the batarian-backed staging base on the moon of Torfan in 2178 caused the batarians to retreat into their own systems. To have Xiùlán tell her batarians on the station were unfriendly towards humans was certainly not news to Samantha.
The slight bump and sounds of machinery grinding from below and astern interrupted her musings; the Ornate Quasar had docked. She carefully rose from her seat to fish around in the overhead lockers for her two shoulder packs. Making sure the hood of her dark grey leather cloak was pulled well over her head, she waited for the salarian and the batarian that had been seated behind her to exit the craft ahead of her; they followed several turians and a massive krogan, merc by the looks of him, that had been seated ahead of her.
As she set foot on the platform outside the ship’s deployed passenger ramp, she looked around while queuing up for a customs inspection. Since there was nothing in her packs but clothing, she was held up only briefly before being allowed to enter the main lobby on this level. The area had the look of a place that had once been a bright spot for people landing here from darker places in the Traverse… in the decades since this station had been constructed, this grand concourse for people of all races had become dark and dingily oppressive. Cleanup appeared to be hit and miss, and there were more than a few former storefronts covered in sheets of grey polystyrene, adding to the decrepit atmosphere.
A small bar named La Botella y Casque beckoned, but she decided a drink would have to wait; she wanted nothing more than to join up with Griff and Xiùlán, find and retrieve the asari artifact and get the hell back off this station in one piece. Standing outside in the poorly lit ‘grand entryway’ to the station, Samantha energized her omni-tool briefly in order to display a map of the serviceways – passages within the station that served as shortcuts for station employees to use in order to move around with relatively few restrictions. The electronic trackers for the two people she needed to meet would lead her to the warehouses where they were now waiting.
She moved in an apparently random manner, staying in the shadows as much as practicable while appearing to simply be window shopping at the few stores along the way that deigned to display some of what was for sale within. As she approached the passageway she needed to use, she used her omni-tool to hack the sealed hatch from several meters away; reaching the now unlocked door, she placed the wrist wearing her omni-tool within the glowing red haptic interface, causing two segments of the door to retract. She quickly stepped through, entering the dimly lit passage as the door segments returned to their fully closed position.
She placed an infrared viewfinder in front of her eyes and energized it, the faint amber glow the only indication she was wearing the device. Looking intently down the length of the deserted passageway, she could just detect the doorway at the far end. Hearing no sounds of alarm ahead or behind, she hurried down the passageway, pausing at the door long enough to again bring up a station map on her omni tool. Once through the door, she turned down a nearby branching passageway and walked until it too ended at a door. Engaging her cloak, she slowly slid the door open and waited, half expecting alarms to begin sounding.
Checking the locators on her omni-tool, she knew Griff and Xiùlán were close by. She eased herself through the door in a crouch and took a look around; the stacked cargo containers standing out somewhat from the rest of the space. Towards her left, the massive opening to the storage area stood out for its utter blackness, the -2.65ׄ°K temperature of interstellar space overriding the puny amount of heat available inside. The two humans waiting for her near the far stack of containers stood out as near solid white against the background of space.
She de-energized her cloak and infrared viewfinder as she walked up to them; Xiùlán was quite glad to see her. “Any trouble finding us?”
“Just had to follow your trackers… which you probably ought to turn off for now.” Traynor got right to the business at hand. “Have you located the pods?”
“Haven’t had a chance yet,” Griff replied. “Found our equipment pod. Better get your weapons.”
Traynor smirked as she responded, “Got my pistol. My omni-tool produces ceramic blades, and…” she pulled the hem of her long jacket aside, revealing the mirror-polished, exquisitely wrought silver handguard, hilt and blade deflector of what was obviously more than a simple boot knife. “…I have my húdié shuāngdāo.” [蝴蝶雙刀 - Butterfly knives]
Buchanan chuckled as he shook his head. “What in hell is it with you two and the blade weapons? Seriously, I think we went through a time tunnel somewhere along the line, wound up back in sixteenth-century China. You’re a couple of dangerous women!”
Xiùlán smiled. “Things were certainly much simpler back then.”
Traynor nodded in agreement as she replied
, “Do we have a safe place to stash the pod, Griff? Someplace where we can return to it if we need to?”
“It’s on top of one of the rearmost stack of containers in long-term storage, back of this warehouse. Map shows it as warehouse number one.”
“Okay,” Traynor answered. “Once we’re done in this area, perhaps we need to move it. Let’s find those shipping containers.”
Without a word Buchanan turned and walked into the small office where Xiùlán had hacked a terminal to locate their equipment pod; Griff slid into the room and took a combat stance as Traynor and Xiùlán entered behind him. Traynor moved to the terminal Xiùlán had previously hacked and smiled approvingly at the way in which her lover had configured it. “Nice job!” she said with a smirk. “Looks like something I might have done.” Traynor sat in front of the terminal, entered several queries, then entered the numbers – 002180084224 and 002180084346, both discovered in the freight yards of Illium – for each of the shipping containers they had since been tracking.
The terminal responded with copies of the manifest for each, listing the contents by name, type and quantity; there were no single items in either of the containers. Traynor cross-checked the shipping containers against each other, and discovered each one was recorded as carrying an identical item, listed as JANIRI, RELIC, FIGURINE, ONE (1) “Looks like we’ll have to check containers 002180084224 and 084346 for this relic,” Traynor said. “Each container lists the one item inside, when our intel says there is only one, period. So, are there a total of two of these things, or is there really only just the one? Probably listed this way so two containers have to be checked to find the damned thing.”
“What’s so important about this thing anyway?” Buchanan asked. “If it’s a stolen artifact, shouldn’t the asari military be all over this? They all have biotics, for craps sake.” Buchanan whispered. “Either of you know how much batarians hate humans? We get caught screwing around down here, C-Pat’ll have a field day torturing us.”
Traynor heard the faint trilling of an alarm of some sort; she looked at Griff as she closed the terminal, reconnected it to its server and replied, “Oh, we know all about batarians and their love for humans. I don’t intend to get caught by these bastards, Chief. Move! Now! Into the warehouse, far side, where we have room to operate.”
* * *
Chapter 24: A Batarian’s Error in Judgement
I believe that everyone has it in them to kill another person. In desperation, or hatred, or at least to defend themselves. – Stieg Larsson, The Girl Who Played with Fire
* * *
* CARTAGENA STATION • SUB-LEVEL ONE, SECTION FOUR *
Their recovery target was in one of sixteen smaller containers scattered between the outer kinetic barrier and the group of five ‘three-stacked’ standard containers on the far side from the office they had just vacated; of these, all but three were in plain view of that office. Griff would have to be her lookout while she located 002180084224 and 002180084346.
The plan was for Sam to hack the customs security seal and lock on the first one they located; if the relic was not inside the first, she’d have to locate the other container, hack the seal and lock on it, find and grab the relic from among the rest of the items inside and reseal the container. They had a limited amount of time, as workers would soon be arriving to begin the day shift.
The alarm that had sent them out of the office had been silenced. Sam sent a brief text to Buchanan. “Any sign of C-Pat?”
“In the office… stay down.”
Traynor melted into the shadow of a stack as she sent a quick text to Xiùlán, telling her to go up top. The figure Buchanan had seen was still moving in the office… undoubtedly a C-Pat guard making his rounds. The office lights had not come on, which hopefully meant the shadowy figure would be leaving shortly.
While she waited for the guard to leave, she inspected each of the three containers out of sight of the office… as luck would have it, the second one was 084224. Upon a quick inspection, she was disappointed to discover the third container was not the one she was looking for. Moving back to the second one, she quickly hacked the customs seal and lock; activating a tiny spot of light at the end of her omni, she tilted the lid just a bit and inspected all ‘round the edge. ‘Found you!’ she thought. Disabling the alarm switch that would have activated a ‘screamer’, she carefully opened the hinged lid. Peeking around the corner of the container stack, she inspected the office carefully. Seeing no signs of movement, she looked up at the top of the container stack, and was rewarded with the view of a rippling shadow.
Motioning for Xiùlán to join her, she returned her attention to the open box in front of her. She searched though the contents for the asari artifact… no luck! Dammit, now she needed to find the other container and search it for this effing relic. Making sure all inside was as it had been, she set the lid in place, reconnected the alarm switch and relatched the lid. She re-enabled the electronic lock and carefully reset the customs seal as Xiùlán joined her.
“Not here, huh?”
“Nope,” responded Sam. “You seen Buchanan? We separated when we left that office.”
“He went back into the first storage area… something about the batarians coming in that way and through this other office. I’m beginning to get a bad feeling here…”
“Dammit Yuán, every time you say that all ‘ell breaks loose,” Traynor responded through gritted teeth. “Keep an eye on that office while I find the other container.”
Samantha moved out onto the floor in a crouch, inspecting numbers on each container. Moving away from the office, she discovered 002180084346 sitting adjacent to the standard container stack furthest from the office. Whispering on her comm for Xiùlán to stay put, she unsealed and opened this container as had been done with the previous one. Staying low, she checked the items inside and… found the damned thing, in the middle of a shipment of synthetic down. It had the correct manifest number, and appeared to be the correct size.
Rearranging the remaining contents of the container to disguise the ‘theft’ of the object, she reset the lid as she’d done with 084224, placed the artifact in her backpack and slid back into hiding as she whispered on the comm for Xiùlán to join her. “Got it. We need to move, now! Griff! Get down to this end.”
The pair had almost reached the office entrance when the lights inside came on, sending them each diving for the low wall on either side of the door. Samantha used her omni-tool to remotely hack the terminal on the other side of the wall, then quickly disabled the computer’s control of the ceiling lights in the warehouse and disconnected from the control panel; she looked at Yuán and motioned with her hands. Anyone coming through the door would meet a swift, untimely accident.
Being so close to Yuán, Sammy couldn’t employ her butterfly knives for fear of clipping her lover with one of the razor sharp edges… they’d each have to use their hands or their omni-blades.
The door hissed open, allowing two C-Pat guards access to the still darkened warehouse. Each of the women stood as one, Xiùlán taking down the batarian on her side, Sam taking the one on hers… Neither guard would be getting back up again.
Traynor attached a mass reduction field generator to the collar of each guard; activating them negated their weight. The pair grabbed the weapons belts of the unfortunate batarians and dragged them over to the closest 3-stack of containers.
Activating their own generators, they each grabbed a batarian by his belt and jumped straight up. As they cleared the edge of the uppermost container, the nearly weightless batarians were unceremoniously tossed onto the top; the cloaked women then caught the container’s edge as they started back down. Hoisting themselves up, they quickly dragged the unfortunate guards towards the center, retrieved their ME generators and relieved them of their hardware, including pass cards for the restricted areas to which they would need access. The dead guards wouldn’t be discovered until the crate needed to be pulled for shipment.
R
unning and jumping from stack to stack, the pair went back to the first warehouse after hacking through the intervening kinetic barrier. They each grabbed a shotgun from the pod previously stashed before dropping lightly to the floor in the aisle between the stacks; they then made their way around the end back to the first office Xiùlán had originally come through.
“We should verify that figurine is what the asari are looking for. Let’s take a look,” Xiùlán whispered.
Traynor brought the wooden carving out of the backpack and handed it to her lover. “Ugliest little statue I’ve ever seen. If that represents an asari god or goddess, one has to wonder how the appearance of modern asari compare to their ancestors from 50,000 years ago.”
Xiùlán handed the figurine back to Sammy after comparing its appearance to the reference picture she had on her omni-tool. “Looks to be the real thing, despite its lack of pleasing facial features… I do wonder why it has four eyes. Probably better suited to the batarian pantheon of deities. Stash it away so it doesn’t get broken.”
Lights were on in this first office, but they could not see anyone through the windows. As she rearranged contents in her backpack to cushion the figurine from impacts, Traynor said, “Remember, even with our cloaks engaged our heat signatures will give us away to the four-eyed bastards.”
Xiùlán said nothing as she took point, easing through the door in a crouch. No one inside, but she did see a smeared trail of blood leading back to the hall. Motioning to Traynor, she pointed to the blood trace then out the door as she powered down her cloak. “Looks like Griff ran into trouble,” she observed.