A/N: As per my suggestability, moar Aria x Tevos. I shall refer to Aria as T'Loak because I am a subscriber of the Aleena=Aria theory. Y'know, that badass commando even Wrex couldn't kill.


Cadet T'Loak waited in the residence's large parlor, head held high and proud, as expected of any commando. Only a heavy pistol comprised her arms though it was more for show considering the assignment and her preference for biotics. If her superiors's words were to be taken, Cadet T'Loak's biotics hit "as hard as a dreadnought's cannons". A smirk crossed T'Loak's features; she was a promising commando, no doubt, thus, she couldn't help but wonder why—

A young matron entered the lounge; from the looks of her; utilitarian clothes, hurried movements, stern features, T'Loak immediate judged her as the residence's governess. "Greetings. I am Freja, governess of the household," the matron introduced herself. "You're the escort from High Command?"

T'Loak was barely able to hide a grin and replied, slightly bowing, "I am. Cadet Aleena T'Loak of Armali Command."

Freja flicked her eyes upon T'Loak. A moment later, she asked, "How old are you?"

"Forty-five," T'Loak replied, unable to refrain from frowning. Still, she kept her head high and sneered, "I didn't realize my youth shall be an issue."

"Oh, no! Matriarch Tevos specifically asked for someone around her daughter's age," remarked Freja with a laugh. Gesturing to the doors as she walked, she related, "Come, so you may meet her."

"The Matriarch?" T'Loak asked as they walked through the residence's halls; she cannot help but notice its muted opulence; sparse but well-placed furniture, high windows revealing sprawling gardens and the distinct scent of Serricean Cedar. A smirk crossed T'Loak's lips.

So this is what filthy rich smells like.

"No, Miss Tevos," Freja answered as they reached the staircase. As they climbed its steps, Freja sighed, "Now, she is the Matriarch's favored child, so I must ask you to treat her as—"

"Treat me as what, Freja?"

T'Loak looked up the stairs and saw her assigned charge; a maiden, couldn't be older than forty; her white facial markings weren't even distinct yet. She was dressed in a loose white gown with a stiff collar, poised as if she was about to attend a party. T'Loak thought her charge was somewhat attractive if she didn't put on so much air. The maiden briefly regarded Freja before noticing T'Loak. Superiority suddenly appeared on her features. "Oh, is this her?" she asked, seemingly bored.

Freja nodded with a stiff smile and said, "Yes Miss Tevos, this is…"

"Cadet Aleena T'Loak," she interjected with a slight bow, "I will be your escort for your stay in the University."

Tevos descended from the stairs, each step deliberately elegant. Soon, she stood before T'Loak and swept her eyes at the latter, not even attempting to hide the impolite perusal.

Oh, for fuck's sake, princess—

"Grand," the maiden said, finally addressing T'Loak, "You may call me Miss Tevos."

T'Loak lifted a brow. "Just that?" she asked. Freja sighed audibly from behind her.

Surprise flitted across Tevos's face before she smirked. Instead of answering, she spun on her heel and walked away from T'Loak, going back up the staircase. Dismay was plain on T'Loak's face as she watched her charge's smug, insolent back. She had yet to conjure pejoratives in her mind when the brat answered;

"Yes, Cadet T'Loak. Just Miss Tevos. Now, if you please," Tevos said with a wave of her hand, "I have luggage that needs carrying." She disappeared into the corridor without waiting for a reply.

T'Loak was flushed and gritting her teeth when Freja whispered; "Please, please, treat her kindly. This is the first time she will be away from home and—"

"—and she's a spoiled brat that needs protection from people she will inevitably piss off," T'Loak snapped.

"To put it mildly," sighed the governess as she regarded T'Loak, who still had murderous intentions painted on her face. Again, she whispered to the irate maiden, "Matriarch Tevos is well-connected. If the Miss speaks kindly of you, well—"

"I get the picture, Freja," groaned the cadet, "The Matriarch's daughter is in safe hands."

"That would be best," sighed Freja, visibly relieved.

"T'Loak! My bags won't be carrying themselves, you know!" echoed Tevos's voice through the halls.

"As long as I don't flay her myself," T'Loak muttered, netting a chastising look from Freja. She followed the brat into the corridors before she said anything else incriminating.