Carbon Life

by HR Ringer

  The Varren’s cries of surprise and pain died as quickly as it did, allowing Septivus to roll off to a sitting position on the deck. Shock was making him feel faint and nauseated, and while his blood loss was minimal, he needed a few moments to collect his wits before he could continue. After a liberal application of medigel, he managed to regain his feet and limp to the entry hatch of his shuttle.

  His thoughts now on escaping with his life, he failed to notice the small container housing the Janiri figurine was no longer attached to the case containing the Matriarchal texts; he opened the hatch and quickly dropped everything he was carrying in the rear compartment. Septivus eased his injured leg under the control deck as he gingerly sat in the pilot’s seat, closed and sealed the hatch. Feeling a bit safer behind the deeply tinted quartz-glass canopy, he began running an abbreviated pre-flight checklist, initiated the start sequence for the small mass effect core, then brought the environmental pumps and fans online. With everything running, he eased the small ship off the deck, slid it sideways and spun it around to face the hanger door, which had already begun to open. As he applied thrusters to approach the opening he saw nothing but the emptiness of the void outside; the pirates had apparently docked their ship at the forward airlock, above and behind him.

  Septivus eased the small ship out of the hanger and past the kinetic barrier; once clear, he turned so his nose was aimed away from the Crystal Scarab in such a way that he kept that ship’s belly to his stern. Knowing he was not able to outrun the pirate ship if they chose to follow, he added throttle to increase his velocity so he could put as much distance between himself and the stricken freighter as possible, and didn’t attempt to alter his course until he was a good 5000 klicks away from his former transport. Cutting his thrusters, he spun the vessel around on its axis so he could take a look behind as momentum continued to propel the tiny vessel on its original course.

  Looking at the point in the blackness his sensors told him was the freighter’s location, he could see nothing, until a brilliant flash flared then slowly faded as glowing debris streaked away in all directions from the explosion’s epicenter, indicating the Crystal Scarab had met its ultimate destiny. Septivus flared his mandibles as he thought of the salarian Captain and his crew. Returning his gaze to the dying light, he offered a silent prayer to the Spirits of his ancestors as he plotted and engaged a course for the Mass Relay. There was nothing more to be done for the salarian freighter or its crew, except report the loss to authorities as soon as he could – something he would only attempt to do when he was safely in Citadel space.

  * * *

  Captain Kryllê Ghydgryz rotated the small figurine in his hands this way and that, admiring the way it reflected the overhead lights. A turian, judging by the blood left behind, had killed three members of his boarding party and a trained Varren as he… or she… escaped from the freighter. The figurine in his hands was the only other thing left behind. Despite being quite hideous in appearance, it could bring a fair number of credits, perhaps even enough to offset the cost of sacking a freighter with absolutely no other cargo aboard, but only if he could sell it to the right buyer. That buyer, if the appearance of the figurine was any indication, would have to be an asari; of primary concern to Ghydgryz however, the buyer would have to be very well off financially.

  * * *

  Chapter 16: Refining Our Skills

  When a pirate grows rich enough, they make him a prince. – George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

  * * *

  Butterfly Sword: [traditional Chinese: 蝴蝶雙刀; pinyin: húdié shuāngdāo] - a short dao, or single-edged sword, usually wielded in pairs. Generally called ‘butterfly knives’ in English (not to be confused with the folding balisong, or fan knife, also commonly called a butterfly knife.)

  Simulacrum [sim-yuh-ley-kruh m] – an effigy, image, or representation

  * * *

  Traynor and Yuán had been practicing for a solid three hours – both were soaked with sweat, hair dripping and clinging to their scalps, wisps of vapor rising from their clothing. Xiùlán was instructing Samantha in the use of the nángùn[南棍] or southern staff, a polished, two-meter long white wax wooden staff. Useful in close quarters combat, Xiùlán’s purpose in teaching its use to Sam was to enable her to incorporate it into her daily physical exercises. Traynor had started out tentatively mirroring each of Xiùlán’s moves; gaining confidence with each passing minute, she was now moving as quickly as her lover.

  Xiùlán next faced Sam and taught her how to fend off an attack; moving slowly at first, she kept increasing the speed of her moves, backing Sam around the practice room. For her part, Sam had taken to this new weapon quite readily, instinctively blocking more and more of Xiùlán’s attacks; at some point, she went on the offensive and began forcing her teacher back. Traynor was beginning to feel like she was making real progress when it happened – Xiùlán seamlessly went back on the offensive. Rapidly parrying three of Sam’s blows, she sharply rapped the knuckles of Sam’s left hand on the fourth return, followed by a swift hit to her right; this brought on a howl of pain and a stream of curses as injured digits allowed the staff to clatter to the mat.

  “Yeeeoww! Sonovabitch! That hurts like all holy fuckin’ ‘ell, Yuán!” Sam had her arms across her chest with each hand tucked between opposite upper arms and torso as she jumped and skipped around the floor in a paroxysm of pain. “You broke all my goddamn fingers!”

  Xiùlán grinned at her as Sam continued to dance about and curse. “I barely tapped you, Sà mǐ. You probably hurt your knuckles worse when you busted Joesiar’s chops for ‘im!”

  Sam had stopped hopping about long enough to extract her hands from under her arms so she could inspect her knuckles. “Lookit! Bleeding like a ruddy stuck pig, I am!” She grimaced as she flexed her fingers and loudly cried, “Shit! They’re all busted, Xiùlán! Look at what you did to me!”

  Xiùlán was beginning to doubt her self-assured assessment as she came up to Sam and reached for her hands; she realized her mistake the instant Sam used those hands to grab both edges of her tunic at the middle of her chest and fall backwards while pulling with a strength Xiùlán had clearly forgotten Sam possessed; Traynor continued to pull Yuán with her as she fell backwards, lifting her bare feet to catch Xiùlán at her hips then violently straightening those legs with all the power stored in the corded muscles of her butt, thighs and calves.

  Xiùlán was unpleasantly surprised to find herself flying across the room, and even more stunned when she crashed upside down into the far wall; she had just enough presence of mind to raise her arms so she partially broke her fall as she slid to the floor in an embarrassed heap, much like an asari she herself had once tossed in nearly the same manner.

  Groaning in pain, she opened her eyes, only to see the upside-down face of her paramour gazing down at her, the expression on her face a cross between genuine concern and a self-satisfied smirk. “Damn,” Sam stated before offering an observation. “That looked like it might have hurt. Sorry about that!”

  Sam straightened up and returned to the place on the mat where she had dropped her nángùn; using the toes of her left foot to lift her staff up in front of her, she caught it and used both hands to rapidly rotate it three times – once in front of her chest, around her left to once behind her back then around her right side to finish in front – before placing the end on the floor to her right with a muffled ‘thud’. She then kneeled, her butt on the heels of her feet, toes bent upwards so the tips remained on the floor, and waited for Xiùlán.

  Xiùlán painfully regained her feet and gingerly drifted around Sam. Retrieving her own nángùn, she moved back in the opposite direction to stand in front of Traynor; after several seconds, Xiùlán dropped to her knees, mirroring Sammy’s position in front of her, staff held vertically to her left side, and bowed deeply. “I will have to pray to my revered ancestors for forgiveness, Samantha Traynor,” she intoned solemnly, “for I have created a guàiwù [怪物]
, a monster, all the more dangerous for her shy demeanor… and her deceptive beauty.”

  “I am no more dangerous than you, my love – probably much less so, except… ” Sam hesitated, her previously snarky expression becoming deadly serious.

  Xiùlán cocked her head and asked in a soft voice, “Yes… ?”

  “… except… when it comes down to protecting you, wǒ de ài [我的愛 – my love]. I would lay down my life for you, Xiùlán. Never… ,” her voice hitched. Swallowing hard, she continued in a firm whisper as a single tear escaped and slid down a brown cheek flushed from three plus hours of intense exercise, “… never… doubt that for a moment.”

  “Then… I will also pray I never need you to prove that, Sà mǐ… ,” Xiùlán rose slightly, placed her free hand on the mat between Traynor’s legs and leaned in towards her until their lips brushed before finishing with a whispered, “… because I cannot conceive of any future for me that does not include you.” Xiùlán tilted her head as she pressed her lips against Sam’s, kissing her in confirmation of the depth of devotion she felt for her.

  Sam returned the kiss, even following a bit as Xiùlán drew back. “Since we’re both so banged up, why don’t we call it a morning?” Sam whispered. “I think a cool shower would feel really good right now. You?”

  “I’m with you, qīn'ài de [親愛的 – darling]. I’m also going to need some time in the sauna, maybe with a massage afterwards.” Xiùlán grimaced as she regained her feet, swiveling her torso back and forth at the hips in an attempt to eradicate the kinks in her back. “I think my entire back is twisted.”

  “At least your fingers aren’t all busted and bleeding, Luv,” Sam replied with a smirk, holding out her left hand for inspection.

  “Damn! They really are bleeding! Sammy, I am truly sorry I hurt you… come on. Let’s get some medigel on those knuckles.” Xiùlán grabbed their gear bags with one hand and placed her free arm around Sam’s back; with her hand on Sammy’s shoulder, Xiùlán pulled her close. “You know, next time we practice, might be a good idea for you to wear your sparring gloves – keep those knuckles protected.”

  Carrying both staffs, Traynor melted into the strong embrace of her lover as they left the practice room and responded quietly, “Lesson learned, Luv… painfully so.”

  * * *

  WIDOW SYSTEM – CITADEL PRESIDIUM

  2180 / 07 / 10

  It had taken twelve days for Septivus Vulpez to reach the Citadel from the Han System, where the freighter on which he was a passenger had been attacked by batarian pirates. He considered himself fortunate to have escaped the Crystal Scarab before it was destroyed by an explosion

  His personal transport, actually a repurposed, highly modified Kodiak, was a meter wider than and half again as long overall as the standard Kodiaks the Alliance Navy used for troop deployments. The downside to the increased size and weight was the required refueling after each relay transit; this slowed his progress through the systems and relays. Slowing him further was the necessity to avoid contact with other vessels until he entered the Widow System – the pirates that had destroyed the Crystal Scarab were still out there, most likely in the Hades Gamma cluster.

  The turian did not believe his own ship had been seen aboard the Scarab; the three pirates he encountered in the hanger had not survived their introduction to him, and he had used the freighter’s hull as a screen during his escape. Septivus Vulpez had survived this long by never being reckless.

  He was on his way to a meeting with asari councilor Raesia Tevos, to whom he would present the contents of the case he was carrying on his shoulder. Septivus had originally set out to recover the Matriarchal writings and artifacts as a profit making venture, but during the course of his travels and discoveries, he had come to the conclusion it would be better to donate everything he recovered to the asari government. He hoped they would offer to reimburse him for his travel expenses, but would not request that of them.

  Unfortunately, he would also need to tell Councilor Tevos of what he had lost during his escape… worse, he feared the 2500 to 3000 year old figurine of the asari goddess of seasons, storms, and agriculture, carved from a single piece of now-extinct Thessian Bolan wood and standing approximately 40 Cm high, was now in the possession of the batarian pirates that had destroyed the Crystal Scarab. That was his fear, but also his hope! If the figurine had not been discovered and retrieved by the batarians prior to the freighter’s destruction, it had become part of the debris cloud that was the Crystal Scarab.

  He sighed heavily as he entered the councilor’s reception area. The asari sitting behind the high counter instantly stood to greet him… Septivus could not help but notice she kept her arms to her sides and recognized she was purposely keeping her hands hidden, just in case he turned out to be less than friendly. He stopped half a meter from the counter and carefully placed both hands on the strap in front of his chest.

  “Septivus Vulpez,” he said. “I have an appointment to speak with the councilor?”

  Dalis Shegos tilted her head in polite acknowledgement as she quietly notified Matron Tevos. After a few moments, Dalis returned her gaze to the turian in front of her and said, “Councilor Tevos will see you now, Sir.” Indicating an entryway past the end of the counter to her right she continued, “Please, enter through this door.”

  Septivus flared his mandibles as he nodded and thanked her before moving towards the door, which opened just before he could reach out for the haptic interface. Standing just within was another asari, dressed in the leathers of an elite commando – most likely the councilor’s personal body guard.

  “Greetings, Sir. I am Huntress Nizia Tenir, and it is my honor to serve as First to Matron Tevos. I apologize, but I must ask you to relinquish your travel case for inspection before I can allow you to approach the councilor.”

  “First? Is that like… a body guard?”

  “It is that, and so much more,” Nizia replied evenly. “May I examine the case?”

  Realizing this asari could (and would!) cut him down in the blink of an eye, he carefully released the strap from the case, then attempted to hand both items to her.

  Nizia put both hands up, palms facing him and said, “Please set them on the side table beside you and step back, Sir.”

  After doing as instructed, he said, “Please be careful with the contents, Huntress Tenir… they are incredibly old.” Nizia nodded to him as she cautiously scanned the entire outside of the case for asari specific poisons and any explosive residue, before carefully opening the cover enough to peer into the container. Wrinkling her nose at the stack of musty papers within, she scanned these as well before gingerly reclosing the case. She then finished by scanning the carry-strap for the same dangers.

  Apologizing for a second time, she asked him to raise his arms so she could perform a quick search for any weapons he might have hidden on his person. ‘Does she really think I would attempt to bring a weapon into this place?’ he thought as she ran a ‘U’–shaped wand over his body, arms and legs from top to bottom; the device trilled as Nizia moved it past the inner jacket pocket carrying his datapad. She wordlessly held out a hand as Septivus slowly and carefully retrieved the device for her inspection. Satisfied this turian was as harmless as he appeared, she allowed him to retrieve the case and datapad and asked him to follow her into the councilor’s office.

  Walking past a sizable sitting area off to the right, the huntress led him to the back of the room, where a large desk was positioned in front of an enormous window looking out over the Presidium lake. Councilor Tevos rose from her own chair in greeting, offered Septivus a chair and asked if he would care for anything to drink.

  “Water will be just fine, please.” It was less than a minute before Dalis appeared with a tray bearing a filled pitcher and several medium size glasses; she set the tray on a nearby side table, filled a glass and brought it to their guest.

  Septivus thanked Dalis as he accepted the glass, took several sips, then plac
ed it back on the tray and got down to business. “Councilor, I have been on a multi-system quest since the beginning of the year.” He carefully set the large carrier flat on her desk. “That quest has now led me to you; I believe you will be pleased with the artifacts I have recovered.”

  Aware that Nizia was standing within arm’s reach behind him, Septivus leaned over the front cover as he released its fasteners and set it aside. “If you would care to inspect these papers, Madam Councilor?” Tevos gasped in amazement as she moved to stand beside her turian visitor; his sub-harmonics suggested amusement as he acknowledged her shock. “I see you recognize what it took me seven months to recover.”

  Raesia Tevos had seen similar documents in the museums on Thessia, always at a distance, locked behind sheets of clear quartz in a climate controlled display case. She had never been this close to anything so… old, so… historically significant. “Are these… ” she looked up at Septivus and accepted the proffered metal pincers. “… original?” As she gently turned the top page over, then lifted the archival paper to expose the next ancient page, a single tear ran down her cheek.

  Quickly realizing all the documents in the case were penned by the same author, she quietly commented, “These appear to be some of the notes made by Matriarch Dilinaga during the golden age of exploration.” Tevos was incredulous. “Nizia, come, take a look.” The huntress quietly moved to stand at the end of the desk to keep from presenting her back to Septivus while she looked in wide-eyed wonder at what this turian had brought to them.

  “I was privileged to have seen the Dilinaga exhibit at the Farinah Museum, Councilor.” Septivus retook his seat by the desk as Tevos and Huntress Tenir continued to carefully… almost reverently… inspect the contents of the case. “It made an impression on me… I have always been interested in history, particularly ancient history, and upon learning there might be more of the Matriarch’s writings lost throughout the galaxy, I knew I had to see what I could do to track them down and retrieve them.”