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Senna’Nir was crying The elcor could sh his helmet

“No,” Senna snapped “You say it I won’t You’re so close You’re not going to die before you save us all”

“Coaxing: Say it”

“No!” roared the quarian

The captain interrupted, her voice cool and calm, as it always had been from those first days on Hephaestus

“How can we distribute the retrovirus once you have it, Yorrik? In case the worst should happen, I need to know”

Yorrik had dreaded this part of the discussion This was not a laboratory and supplies were not infinite In the end, if he was lucky, and he lived long enough, and the ship’s computer really was fixed, Yorrik would end up with a very small sample to ith Infinite space bound in a walnut shell

“Reluctant response: The iven how little material is in our possession, would be to inject a person with it, and allow theinal Fortinbras virus It could be a sick person or a well one, but they would have tointo physical contact with everyone who has been exposed to the virus I doubt I will have enough to treat more than one person We could wait for the virus to replicate under laboratory conditions, but how many more deaths would occur? So ht violet, as violet as a river in the night…”

Yorrik could feel the tension that kept a h his haze Hatred surged in his heart Unnameable, unreasoned hatred If he could only rip her to pieces and feast on her blood, everything would go back to the way it was before He knew it, somehow, in his bones But the ancient elcor bit back on his fury It was not his at all It was Fortinbras, doing what he always did, coive in to it Not yet This was his final stage His soliloquy His swan song Fortinbras would not ruin that for him

“Urgent: Go Leave me alone with my work,” Yorrik pleaded

The comms crackled to life suddenly No—not the comms It was the public address system The only way Anax Therion knew to contact them

Good evening, fellow dooers Would Captain Qetsi’Olam and First Officer Senna’Nir kindly make their way to s I wish to say And I believe my hanar friend does, as well

18 CELL SUICIDE

Anax Therion watched her come in Watched her sit down across fro like a coat in the corner of her quarters, its levitation packs at half power to keep it immobile She watched Senna’Nir hover over her Protective, overly so Guilt, perhaps She still hadn’t decided on the commander They had hardly had a chance to speak Or, more importantly, for Anax to hear him speak The drell took a deep breath, finally free of that suit, her green skin shining in the dihts of her quarters that flickered pinkish-violet every so often She would be grateful to see norain, if she ever did The kind you could read a book by

“Borbala, the door, if you don’t mind?” Therion said carefully These were her favorite moments, when she had almost all the answers, and needed only to fit the last piece in Unfortunately, the last piece rather often tried to make a run for it The batarian nodded and