<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;"><strong>Prologue</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>The Estate — Landing Pad. 1500 hours, local time.</em></span></span></div><hr/>"Got something to share with us, Nyx?" Prina asked, raising an eyebrow at Kara's comment. "I could have sworn you said something, but all I heard was 'please send me through basic a fourth time, Commander!'"<br/><br/>Prina crosses her arms and listens to each of your questions, nodding as you all speak in turn. She seems focused, but also relaxed—like a tiger strolling through the jungle. Her armor is sleeveless, and you can see several tattoos snaking their way up her muscled arms, vanishing beneath the straps of her pauldrons. "The Quartermaster's over there," she tells Ree when she comes back out of the shuttle. "The human, Cait MacDonnell. Take it over to her."<br/><br/>As Ree walks off, she turns back to you and points at Kara without uncrossing her arms. "MacDonnell will supply you with whatever you need. Sentry turrets are set up at the perimeter gate, and we're preparing temporary towers at the wall. Which brings me to<em>your</em>question, Felan," she says, shifting her weight. "Our orders are to gun down anybody that tries to get on the client's property without permission. We won't be taking pot shots at the joggers on the trail, if that's what you're asking."<br/><br/>Over the edge of the platform, you hear a woman's voice holler something out. Seconds later, a rumbling hydraulic noise fills the air, accompanied by the clatter of metal. The noise continues, drowning out Prina's voice until she takes on an annoyed expression and gives up on speaking. Slowly, a metal construct begins to rise beyond the height of the platform. It's far off—over by the wall—but it's already reaching the height of the manor and rising higher. It continues, reaching seventy feet, then eighty, ninety, and finally settles at one hundred feet tall. The noise dies down, and you see the helmeted head of a quarian woman pop out and give a thumbs up to the people below.<br/><br/>"I hate those things," Prina grumbles lowly. "So damn loud." She turns back to you all and clears her throat. "So far, nobody's cleared to enter the property but the client. Sergeant Tyra's got a small security team for the lower levels—all hand-picked by the client himself. Kinda paranoid, if you ask me, but he pays well. And before you ask, Nyx," she adds with a touch of sternness entering her tone, "They're<em>all</em>sworn to secrecy, so don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."<br/><br/>Prina tilts her head to the side, cracking her neck before picking the clip board back up. "Now, if you don't have any more questions, your quarters are downstairs. Corporal!" She waves down a passing human woman. She's young, with dark black hair cut short and choppy, and she stops on a dime when she notices Prina's wave. "Show our new arrivals to their room. Get them acclimated." Prina looks back at you all and nods. "Take a good look around the place, ladies. Tomorrow, you'll be assigned to your guard rotations."