Carbon Life

by HR Ringer

  Tevos looked up at her Turian guest, respect shining in her eyes as doubt clouded her expression. “What you have done… what you have brought us is… priceless, Sir. The wealth of our entire civilization would not be sufficient recompense for these treasures.” Tevos returned to the chair behind her desk as Huntress Tenir carefully restored all the pages and separators to their original order in the travel case. “So, what can we do for you, Septivus Vulpez? What do you desire from the asari?”

  “I seek no reward or payment for recovering Matriarch Dilinaga’s writings, Councilor. I will also give you all the information I have concerning the locations where I found each of the pages and treatises before you… hopefully, your archeologists and historians will then be able to trace Matriarch Dilinaga’s travels in much more detail.” Activating his omni-tool, he placed all the information gathered about the texts, along with the figurine he had lost, onto an OSD. Removing it from his omni-tool, he leaned forward and placed the small disk on top of the travel case, then said in a quiet voice, the flanging of his tone sounding infinitely dejected. “There is one more thing you need to know.”

  Once again retrieving the datapad from his jacket pocket, he explained as he activated the device, “The particulars of what I am going to show you are also included on that OSD.” Setting the datapad to display all the information and still photos of the Janiri figurine he had lost during his escape from the Crystal Scarab, he continued, “I had this in my hands, Madam Councilor. Probably one of the most important discoveries of the past ten centuries… ,” he brought up his hands for emphasis, “… and I actually held it in my hands.” Septivus handed the datapad to Tevos and hung his head as he thought about what he had lost. “I am so sorry. It was… is… absolutely magnificent and it literally slipped through my hands, probably during my fight with one of their trained Varren. I didn’t notice it was gone until I was refueling in the Hades Gamma Cluster.”

  Tevos swallowed hard as she studied the still images and explanations Septivus had provided. “Goddess… it does not seem possible such a thing still exists. Its value would exceed that of all of the texts you have presented to us today. Bolan wood, you say? And it appears from these photos to be in excellent condition.” Tevos ran out of words.

  “It was rumored to have been carved from a solid piece of Thessian metamorphic rock in the one copy of the treatises that mentioned it; it would have stood no more than 50 centimeters high, Madam Councilor. This one was carved from the wood of a Bolan tree, and is quite possibly the only one of its kind in existence. I believe the figurine survives and is most likely about to be sold by the batarian captain of the pirate vessel that attacked us.”

  Septivus hung his head at the thought. “He had three of his crew stationed in the freighter’s hanger, and would have sent someone to retrieve them before destroying the ship. They most assuredly would have retrieved it, and they no doubt suspect a turian killed their three crewmates, just from the blood I left behind.” Septivus’ leg was still itching from the varren bites he’d suffered. “I expect he will be lining up sales brokers, the well-heeled, those that can afford to pay for such an object.”

  “This object is priceless! Who could afford to pay for such?” Tevos asked rhetorically.

  Septivus flared his mandibles, a tone of regret sounding in his sub-harmonics. “Priceless to you, Councilor… and to me. That batarian will never have to work another day in his life, and the figurine… an object that rightfully belongs to the asari people at the very least, if not to the people of the galaxy, will be lost to us forever, secreted away in some private collection.” Septivus fell silent for a few moments, the enormity of the loss, his failure, weighing as heavily on him as if he was a citizen of Thessia.

  Tevos handed the datapad to Nizia so she too could see what had been lost to the batarians. “I don’t know what to say. To see images of this object, to meet the person that recovered it… is all a bit overwhelming. Do you have the time and date… and the location… of the attack on your freighter?”

  Septivus looked up and quickly responded, “That information is also on the OSD, Madam Councilor.”

  “Then it may be possible to extrapolate the destination… the ports of call… of that pirate ship after the date of the attack. Your freighter… totally destroyed?”

  “I witnessed the explosion from a safe distance… virtually nothing left but dust.”

  “Then your quest has come to an end, has it not? What will you do now, Septivus Vulpez?”

  The turian chuckled as he answered. “I’m not really sure. I had not expected my quest to end so abruptly… or violently. I still have enough credits to travel to Sur’Kesh… I need to inform the Salarian shipping consortium of the Crystal Scarab’s loss. Captain Uzor Saelon and his crew were good people… their families need to know what happened to them. After that, I’ll probably return to Palaven. Not sure what I will do once I return.” Septivus flared his mandibles as he shrugged his shoulders, a human expression of uncertainty he’d picked up while working with a young lieutenant in the Alliance Navy.

  Tevos looked intently at the turian for several seconds before standing and placing her hands on her desk. “I presume that, since you have all the facts concerning your travels on this OSD, you have also entered the amounts you had to pay for passage aboard the salarian freighter, as well as all your expenses for fuel and food?”

  Septivus was a bit embarrassed by the councilor’s directness, but returned her gaze and nodded as he simply responded, “Yes, I did.”

  “Then I believe the asari ruling council will not object to me reimbursing you for your travel expenses.” Placing a hand on the case containing the treasures from an age long past, she added, “It’s the least we can do for you, considering your brush with death at the hands of those pirates.”

  Tevos returned to her chair and looked at the turian for several moments… long enough for Septivus to start getting fidgety under her direct scrutiny. “You say you are unsure of what you will do after you return to Palaven?” she asked. “Perhaps you should consider traveling to Thessia instead.”

  “To what purpose, Madam Councilor?”

  “If you wish it of me, I will provide you with a letter of introduction to the Thessia Guildhall, in which I will request support for you to lead a new expedition.” Waving her hand at the case, she added, “You obviously have the skills… and your results certainly cannot be denied.”

  Septivus almost could not believe his good fortune! “That would be most kind of you, Madam Councilor. It would be nice to have the opportunity to finish what I started.”

  “Then you will have a copy by tomorrow morning,” Tevos replied as she retrieved the OSD from atop the case. She then handed the case to the huntress and said, “Place that in our most secure storage area, Nizia. We’ll have the next diplomatic shuttle take it to the home world. Meanwhile,” she paused and looked at Septivus again. “I will save you the time and fuel it would cost you to travel to Sur’Kesh. As the salarian councilor’s office is just down the passageway, I will inform Councilor Valern of the loss of the Crystal Scarab and its crew, but… ” the asari paused for a moment, then added “… I am sure Valern will want details about the attack. Your association with that freighter will have to be made known, particularly since you survived the encounter.”

  Nizia ventured to speak, saying in a low voice, “Knowing Councilor Valern, he will be most suspicious about this, Madam Councilor. You informing him of the loss of that freighter will make it difficult to guide his thinking away from the belief that the asari employed this turian to search for ancient artifacts.”

  “So what if our people did employ him for this quest, Nizia?” Tevos asked. “It’s not as if we hired the pirates that destroyed that freighter.”

  “In point of fact, Madam Councilor,” Septivus interrupted apologetically, “I recovered a League of One medallion from a long dead merc on Nonuel, in the Hades Gamma Cluster. I had planned to turn it over to the sala
rian antiquities minister when I reached Sur’Kesh.”

  “No possible good could come from you traveling to Sur’Kesh at this time, Septivus Vulpez.” Tevos replied quietly. “The salarians would most certainly imprison you until your lack of involvement in the loss of that ship could be independently corroborated. Better you remain on the Citadel for now until we can speak with Valern.”

  Placing the OSD in the reader on her desk, she scrolled rapidly through the information until she came to the expense listing for the turian’s expedition. “I will see to the transfer of credits to your account within a day, Septivus.” She looked at the chrono display on her terminal. Activating her omni-tool, she made several entries, resulting in Septivus’ omni-tool self-activating. “It is growing late. I have transferred enough credits for you to stay at a hotel that caters to turians, particularly their specialized diets, here on the Presidium. My aide will contact you in the morning concerning the time and place for our meeting with Councilor Valern… you may present the League of One medallion to him at that time.”

  “That is all most kind of you, Madam Councilor.” Septivus stood to leave. “It has been a pleasure visiting with you today.” He bowed, then nodded to Nizia, who responded as he left, “Goddess go with you, Septivus Vulpez.”

  * * *

  ALLIANCE SPEC OPS TRAINING FACILITY – MARS

  COMBAT TRAINING SIMULATOR

  Samantha Traynor had been learning the techniques required to master the use a liǔyè dāo – literally, a willow leaf sabre – for close combat. The sword Xiùlán had loaned her had a continuously curved razor sharp blade with a sharpened back edge about a third of its 95.6 centimeter length; the hilt was canted, that is, slightly curved in the opposite direction of the blade – this improved handling of the sword in some forms of cuts and thrusts, and made it easier to reverse her grip in order to use the blade for slashing.

  Her opponents were computer generated simulacrums, combinations of the worst traits of human and batarian enemies, so ugly they even hurt one’s eyes.

  She had amassed six confirmed kills as she hacked her way through a simulated jungle environment. The temperature and humidity were set quite high to add to the discomfort level of the students using the facility; the enemies’ intelligence level was set high for the same reason.

  Her goal was simple – survival. Traynor had to make it through the hundred meter by 75 meter exercise yard, filled with massive trees, bushes, muddy creeks and saw-edged grasses, while dodging or engaging simulated enemies. She had moved perhaps ten meters from her last kill when she heard it – the sound of tree bark being rubbed by an object clad in armor. She instantly crouched and used her right hand to firmly grip the curved hilt of her dāo, protruding up past her right shoulder from the scabbard strapped to her back. Remaining crouched, she silently spun about in place, secure in the tall grass surrounding her. Facing back the way the sound had come from, she held her breath and waited.

  The computer generated enemy soldiers were moving quietly, much more so than an organic enemy would have been able to achieve. She continued to wait until the first of the three stopped less than a meter from her position. As the simulacrum started towards her position, she leapt straight up from her crouched positon, screaming at the top of her lungs as she swiftly pulled the saber from its scabbard and swung it in a right-to-left downwards arc in front of her. She felt the simulator generated resistance to her sword that confirmed she had ‘killed’ her seventh enemy by virtually slicing it in half.

  The instant her feet touched the ground she leapt backwards, performing a back-flip to gain a bit of distance from the two other simulacrums now rushing her. Using her left hand, she pulled a modern húdié dāo [蝴蝶刀– butterfly sword (knife in English)] from its calf-mounted sheath and used an uppercut thrust to partially bury the 5mm thick, 24 Cm blade in the middle of the enemy on her left. The simulacrum on her right raised a pistol towards her – as she yanked the short sword free of the enemy on her left, she crouched, spun around to the right and sliced through the gun-wielder’s forearm with an uppercut from her sabre; this sent its forearm flying, along with the gun held by the now nerveless hand. Reversing her grip on the sword as she continued her rotation, she used the now rear-facing blade, held at an angle beside her forearm, to partially decapitate the newly one-armed simulacrum. As it began to fall the computer program dissolved its form, chalking up confirmed kill number eight.

  The victim with the stab wound was attempting to regain its feet as she turned back to face it; once again reversing her grip on the sword, she whipped the blade around from behind her right side with enough speed to generate a whistling sound in the hot, humid air, removing the simulacrum’s head to chalk up kill number nine. An alarm sounded, signaling the end of this training round.

  Electing to carry her weapons, she started for the exit; less than two meters from the hatch, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise to full attention. Instantly motionless, she listened intently and was rewarded by the faint rustle of clothing behind and to her left. Activating her kinetic shield, she silently turned and waited.

  Sam was surprised to find Yuán decloaking as she carefully walked towards her. “That was nicely done, Xiùlán… I almost didn’t hear you. You keeping an eye on me?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Instructors had a drone overhead, recording everything. Looks like you have become one with those weapons, darling. Remind me not to sneak up on you when you have that húdié dāo strapped to your calf. Oh, you do know I’ll need to train you to use two of them together, right? Where’s the other one?”

  Sam returned her sabre to the scabbard on her back as she answered, “I didn’t bring it, Luv… I wanted a longer blade in my right hand.” She crouched and returned her long knife – considered a short sword in Xiùlán’s native China – to the sheath strapped to her calf. “So, I’m done for the day, right?” Traynor asked. “I could really use a shower and some food.”

  “Get cleaned up,” Xiùlán replied. “We’ll have a light lunch, study a bit, then I’ll work with you on your technique using the shuāng dāo.” [雙 刀 – double knife]

  * * *

  OMEGA NEBULA • SAHRABARIK SYSTEM

  OMEGA STATION

  Captain Kryllê Ghydgryz walked warily through the dimly lit freight tunnel connecting the small hanger to the alleyway – one of many crisscrossing this level of the station – between a small business district and a warehouse and shipping area; it was the edge of the business district to which the batarian pirate was heading.

  Activating the locator on his omni-tool, he turned towards his left in order to follow the direction indicator, where he expected to meet a broker or a potential buyer for the small figurine found on the hanger deck of the MV Crystal Scarab just before the ship was involved in a horrific accident.

  Ghydgryz had not brought the figurine with him, nor was it on the shuttle he had left in the hanger. He had a copy of a vid on an OSD that showed every detail of the horrid-looking thing as he held it for display to prove he had possession of it; in this way he felt he'd be able to leave the meeting under his own power, rather than feet-first on an anti-grav cart.

  His first meeting would be with a mid-level member of the mercenary Eclipse gang. If he couldn't make a deal with the Eclipse, he would move on to the Blue Suns. He stopped in front of a dilapidated looking saloon in response to a trill from his omni-tool. The place appeared to literally be falling apart… even the name over the door had faded to the point it was undecipherable. Glancing quickly about, he cautiously entered and paused just inside the doorway to allow his eyes time to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Patrons sat in the shadows around the room, keeping their faces hidden as they glanced at the newcomer before quickly looking away.

  Making up his mind, he slowly ambled over towards an empty table on his left and took a seat with his back towards the bar. He hadn’t seen anyone here that appeared to belong to Eclipse, so he ordered a drink and settled back
to wait.

  Two turians came into the seedy bar while he nursed his drink. He was just about to order a second one when a hand reached over his shoulder to place a glass full of green liquid on the table. Attempting to cover his surprise at being so oblivious to a possible attack from behind, he shoved the glass to the other side of the small table as he looked around and up at the person standing there.

  “Evening… name’s Ugrolya Rarfenak. You here to meet somebody?”

  Ghydgryz answered as the batarian came around in front of him, “Am I that obvious?”

  “Not really,” Ugrolya replied. Motioning to the chair, he asked, “May I?”

  “Sure. May as well be comfortable while you… ” Ghydgryz indicated the glass of green liquid, “… enjoy your drink.”

  Rarfenak eased his body down on the chair, picked up the glass and took a sip. “Wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to poison you. What’d you say your name was?”

  “Didn’t say… I’d prefer to remain anonymous, if you don’t mind. You Eclipse?”

  “Keep your voice down! Not a lot of friendly people in this dump.” Ugrolya turned the glass up, gulping the rest of the green liquid straight down. “Shit’s so watered down, can’t even tell what kind of booze it’s supposed to be,” Ugrolya complained. “Anyway, word is you have an ancient artifact for sale. Questions are, how ancient, and how much?”

  Ghydgryz pulled out his datapad, set it to loop the vid of him standing beside an advertising display showing a date/time chrono as he held the figurine and handed it to Rarfenak. “Ugly thing. Supposed to be Janiri, asari goddess of seasons, storms, and agriculture. Estimated age is 20 centuries or so. How much? Find the right collector, you can name your price. I’m not a collector. I need sixty-five million, deposited in my account, verified by my banker before I give you the access card and location of the strongbox where I stashed it.”