*click* "Off to bootcamp! I figured since I'm an adult now I should update my journal keeping since I know have an Omni. I'm so nervous. Jorvan assures me it's not that bad. I find that hard to believe based on what happened to Sol...
No one's heard from him since the incident. I got a short message after he disappeared from Sappers school saying he was ok and that he would strike out on his own. After that, nothing.
I feel a tremendous hole in my heart since he deserted. Mother and father refuse to even acknowledge his existence. They even took down all the family pictures with him in it.
As if he never existed! Would they do that to me? What if I can't handle the training?"
Jorvan Vikars' apartment Vancouver, Earth
5 February 2186
I hate waking up. Not because I don't want to meet the day, but because it tore me from the infinite possibilities of the dream world. I figured I wasn't alone in this regard since more often than not others would awaken around (or even next to) me with a groan. That sensation of being pulled through a dark tunnel of rest and warmth and into the noise and light of consciousness was something no one liked.
That all changed when I met Claudia. Sure, we were in lust initially. And we had more or less signed this sordid affair off as a fling, nothing more. But on my third trip out to Earths sunny west coast on the American continent something happened that had never happened before, I woke up smiling as my sleep crusted eyes split like a fissures to see the brunette beauty laying beside me, smiling back.
I wish my kind could be more expressive. -Well that's not really fair now that I think of it. Turians are very expressive, among our own kind. Some would say more so than the other species. A casual flick of the mandible or shift of the facial plate could have more emotional bearing than the seemingly cartoonish caricatures most species display with the totality of their fleshy faces.
But it wasn't right. At least for me. There was a certain purity and sincerity to how the squishy ones emoted to one another that was overwhelming to me. It caused me physical joy and discomfort watching the holo's of alien storytelling. Sure, turian vids could be just as persuasive. But it was just so plain. I'd like to think I've felt this way ever since I became self conscious.
I'd like to think this is why I am the way I am. It's caused me no small amount of grief from my parents and siblings, well one anyway, the other I haven't talked to in a long while. But I digress. "Meet someone" they said. They did not appreciate me bringing home my fathers commanding officer to our family dinner at some totally forgettable restaurant. Not so much because he was my father's CO, but because he was a he. "Settle down, have kids" they had said. So I did, Nisra was a very beautiful and sweet asari and our child is adorable, I think. -That pissed them off to no end.
There was a time that I relished upsetting my parents in such a manner. But eventually I grew tired of being the outcast of the family. I wouldn't cave to their expectations though. So I put some distance between myself and them. I miss Nisra sometimes. Hell I don't even know the childs name nor was I there for the birth. That was mostly due to my father pulling strings and getting my orders to Illium altered to come here to Earth.
I distinctly remember how Nisra's thin blue lips disappeared as her normally serene face wrinkled into a frown at the news, but then she did something unexpected. She smiled. I had, and still do, feel dirty about the whole ordeal. I know she would outlive me easily. She did as well. She calmly refused any type of child support or help in rearing the child when it came. It made me feel even dirtier.
I suppose I should think my guilt is unwarranted, I mean she is one of the leading researchers for some big wig bioengineering firm based in Noveria and lives fairly comfortably. -Despite my best efforts to bankrupt her. I do like my toys.
But that was probably the most emotion she ever displayed then and there. -Aside from our wild romps of course. That patience was infinite, but I was not. I suppose she had expected me to grow old and die in her arms and me being torn away from her relieved the anxiety of having to eventually experience such a thing.
I still shudder at the thought of it all, to the point that I "subconsciously" repress any thoughts about her and our child. Unfortunately this has metastasized into the physical world as well and I've avoided talking to her. She found me out though, word even got to Jaa. Though she mentioned it in passing, I could hear the disappointment in her voice as I read her words in her voice.
Jaa… I hardly recognize her nowadays. But that's what war does to people. It changes them on a fundamental level. It comes with the duty. But it's almost treated as an expectation that we all undergo it. I'd like to think I haven't changed over my many years of service. But I can name the time and place she did. It was when she was reborn in a hospital bed. This so happened to coincide with the loss of her legs and the majority share of her Cabal.
I remember taking shore leave to visit her the first chance I could after it all happened (conveniently timed so as to avoid being there the same time as my parents) My worry and fear seemed to escalate the closer I got to her. Each formality and transfer became an intolerable barrier blocking me from my sister. But managed to finally burst my way into her hospital room and stand in shocked silence as I looked at her frail frame swathed in sterile white sheets.
A hollowness came to me just then.
We hadn't even talked yet but I could feel the change. She was in an induced coma from an incident the day prior that had caused her to bust her stitches open. They had to actually open her chest and massage her heart to get it to beat again from all the blood loss. Even after she had stabilized it was a constant battle to keep her alive.
The doctors said she had simply lost the will to live. That wasn't the sweet innocent Jaa'Quaan I had grown up with. The same Jaa who had always found the best in even the worst people. The one who would give silent encouragement whenever I endeavored to annoy our parents. -Though I wish more of me had rubbed off on her in that respect. Sure, she could have a same sex partner or two, because she could elect to take or give a family name at any time while also having the choice to give her children the family name of her choosing. Males had no such luxury by turian law. But she kept it pretty "vanilia" as the humans would say and never toed the line of more exotic forays.
Anyway… I could not imagine such a fiery spirit being extinguished from a lack of will to live. It just didn't add up. There was too much to experience and see before ascending to the final Tier. I feared having to speak of her deeds if such a thing came to pass. Not because I would have to see my parents, but because the list was so short. It was unfair.
I thought about all of this as I watched the artificial rise and fall of her chest as an air tube pumped her lungs with air. I sat down and engulfed a frail looking hand in mine. She was hot to the touch, even her carapace felt warmer than usual.
And there I sat, losing track of time as the dimmed light in her room glinted off the staples holding her chest cavity together, a dark blue smudge marring her forrest green chest plates in places where the surgeons had failed to clean up.
Don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me alone out here. I remember thinking desperately. But then I felt something. The slightest twitch of her hand in mine. My heart leapt into my throat as I became overwhelmed with frustrated joy. I wanted to cry out in anger and happiness. And I did.
"Fight! Fight! Don't let them win" The tears came unbidden as I felt another twitch, her vitals nudged higher in activity on the monitor. I laughed in joy as I stood and looked down at her frail frame. The very tip of her snout peeked out from the gauze bandages holding her face together. Her mouth was open, violated by the tube giving her air.
An orderly entered but kept his distance as a threatening growl escaped me. He knew not to come within the invisible bubble of my protection. I looked back down as I felt a definite squeeze this time. Her vitals were growing stronger by the minute. The orderly slipped around the edge of the room and worked the machinery keeping her alive.
"Centurion, I need to work on her, she's starting to wake." He said urgently.
I assented and took a step back, never letting go of her hand. The tubes were removed and a protein solution was injected into her IV to allow for latent healing machines to activate and start repairing again. Her first breath off the respirator sounded like a gust of wind snaking it's way through a creaky old house. But it was steady and strong.
That's my sis! I thought as I watched her rise through the layers of subconsciousness.
I know I said I hated waking up, and strongly suspect others do as well -in her case especially so. But Spirits damn me if her her groan into wakefulness was the happiest moment in my life at that point.
"Water" she croaked. The orderly handed me a cup to feed her as he lifted the backrest of her bed into a sitting position. I carefully held the cup to her lips and slowly poured the life giving liquid into her mouth. Her tongue lolled about, moistening itself from being dried out by the respirator. She nodded and I pulled the cup away, thats when she turned to me and blinked in recognition.
"Jorvy.." She whispered and smiled weakly.
"I'm here. I won't leave until you get sick of me."
"I. heard. you." Every word was a monumental effort taking an entire breath as she wheezed them. Her eyelids had sagged over her amber eyes from the strain.
"Shhh, get your rest. I'm not going anywhere"
"I. will. fight. I. will. de-."
"-Yes, fight, but later, you must rest now." I pleaded as the orderly shot me a warning look.
Thankfully she nodded and dived into blissful sleep. Her one good mandible twitching as the layers engulfed her.
Presently I am embattled with a tangle of brown hair as I try to reach over Claudia and swat at my alarm clock. Despite my best efforts not to rouse her she shifts next to me and curls up.
"Just 5 more minutes" She mumbles as I finally reach the nuisance and silence it. A soft arm stops me from reaching back from the clock and pulls me to her bosom. I smile at her seemingly endless need for contact. The softness of these beings can be overwhelming at times. Not even the finest Bonding treatments can make a turians unprotected skin this soft.
Time has flown since we first met. I had sworn that it would be just another casual fling and nothing more. But this woman, this alien woman, touched a part of me I hadn't felt stir since Nisra. The fact that she was probably the first woman to be roughly of equal height was a plus, among other things.
This line of thinking was about to get me in hot water as I feel her squirm from an involuntary purr of arousal. I take a deep breath as I lay back down and sigh contentedly. It's an odd habit that I've learned; typically we inhale deeply as a sort of sigh. Most other species do it the other way around. I think it works better their way. A well timed sigh can signify letting go, or a release from something draining. It can also validate or alienate friends and foe alike. It's another example of how expressive they are.
I steadily grew aware of the ambient noises of my small hovel on the 20th floor of the apartment complex I reside in. Muted hums and whines from outside air-car traffic tells me it's going to be busy in the sky lanes and I should just let the autopilot do its thing. If not for such nebulous things such as safety and less stress than for the simple fact that if I get another ticket by local authorities Jeratul threatened to snip the rest of my crest off with pruning shears.
I think he misjudged the intended effect of the threat. I think short crests are hot, and I'd love myself more than I already do. -Not to sound egotistical or anything.
I carefully untangle myself from Claudia and pad my way to the bathroom intending to take a quick shower and get breakfast started before she goes on minute 30 of "five more minutes."
I get the water going and work on my teeth at the sink set in black granite. Steam begins to bellow from the shower stall as the water heats up and my plates bead from condensation. I should get wet sanded some time. I know its typically done by females as a part of the Bonding ritual, but I could totally pull it off.
The small oscillating toothbrush makes my vision blur as I press the small rotating cone at its tip down on each tooth. I cant help but smile as I "aaAAaaaaAAAaa" into the mirror, the brush has enough power to alter the inflection of my upper chords. I am that easily entertained. A short scrub and rinse later I step out of the shower and towel off. Claudia is still snoring lightly from the bed but somehow my pillow is now in between her knees as she lays on her side. Her small black t-shirt is bunched up almost to her armpits while her heart shaped bottom peeks out from the comforter.
Having learned (the hard way) about the particulars of cooking human bacon I put on a apron bearing an embroidered hanar with a spatula in each tentacle. It bears the words "Grill Master at Arms" below the hanar. I toss some thin strips of marbled meat onto a fry pan. Beside it I have a small pot heating up water for grits. The greenish meal sits in a labeled glass jar along with other dextro ingredients.
Having been a soldier for most of my life I quickly devised a method of organizing the kitchen to facilitate our different diets. I essentially have two kitchens split by the stove and oven. The fridge has been partitioned as well and everything is labeled. She's only been staying with me for a short whilebut I've already managed to facilitate her every need. I would be lying if I said I wasn't proud of it.
The crackle of the bacon has me salivating. It smells so good but I would be so dead if I ate any. -Ok maybe that's a bit hyperbolic but I would have a bad "Terminal Phase Event" as the human Gunnery Chief had said for sure.
"Worth it" I mumble as I take a small nibble from one of the strips. I guess I could order apparate or louza meat thin cut from the more fatty sections of the animals but I knew it just wouldn't have the same smell or taste. It was unfair. Other species got to share in this galactic pot luck and we men of action, protectors of the Citadel, and one of the founding members of the council, have to sit outside and lick the windows.
My tongue tingles a bit from the alien meat. That's probably not good. I should really get another amino treatment. I involuntarily cringe as I think of the disapproving look on Dr. Stricklands face whenever I walk into his office. The wrinkly old human was at first very gentle and understanding the first few times I visited -for other, more debauchery related maladies mind you. But soon he saw me for what I was, a Varrun in heat. It's been awhile since I've been to visit though. Maybe I'll get a knowing smirk instead of a silent head shake of quiet dismay this time. Ha!
She thinks she's stealthy with her clawless toes and comical "I'm sneaking" gait but her scent gives her away as soon as she leaves the room. Not to mention the brief flicker of shadow that plays across the stovetop as the dawn's golden rays backlight her from the bedroom window. I'll play along though. It's cute.
I can feel her hovering behind me, indecisive of what to do exactly. She never does think these types of things out. The thought of her making a living tiptoeing around makes me snort and suppress a laugh. Something about her presence changes and I look over my shoulder to see her pouting, dropping her arms to her sides.
"Oh hi Bae, you hungry?" I say cheerily as she tugs at the hem of her t-shirt, her pout deepening behind a tangled mass of long brown hair.
"You're no fun."
"What do you mean?"
"You knew I was there."
"I'm sorry." I'm not though; some of that lesson about cooking bacon involved an earlier attempt at stealth and a certain sheath being burned by bacon grease.
She withdraws and takes up station at the breakfast nook behind me.
I finish prepping food and load a healthy heap of eggs and bacon on her plate and the standard grits on another plate for me. Burdened with two steaming plates I turn to see her smiling, a corner of her lip pulled in by her teeth in what I've come to learn as playful flirtation.
"That apron sure does compliment your figure there sweet cheeks." She teases.
I smile as I strike a pose with the plates. I see her eyes flit to my exposed rear as I curtsey.
"Thanks M'lady." I slide a plate in front of her and sit beside her at the nook after I slip off the apron and hang it on a hook. We eat in silence for a while with only the faint sound of air car traffic providing the ambience. I see a hand slip under the table and rest on my thigh.
"I heard you." She says as she pulls her hair away from her face and tosses it over her shoulder, exposing her slender neck. The marks of a particularly spirited foray are fading. I might have to do something about that.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
She dips her chin and smiles a hooded smile.
"I don't know why you keep apologizing." Her hand creeps up my thigh as her grin broadens. "But you should know if you're gonna start something you should probably finish it."
Her hand rests on my cleft, a finger teasing my plates as she toys with the sensitive lining of the just barely exposed sheath. I lean in and kiss her, or what I've learned to be an acceptable kiss. She's not to big on tongue play, or at least when we're face to face. I feel her soft flesh press into me as my arm snakes around her frame and pulls her closer. I lightly rake her thigh with my claws, the flesh raises and forms a trail bumps. I am rewarded by a shudder as her lips pull away from mine and her motions become more impassioned.
Sometimes I feel myself to be an abomination. Like some freaky monster from the darkness of space, here to burn cities and abscond with hapless alien women. The stark contrast of our physiologies does not help matters. This is not one of those times however.
I move to her neck as I swivel in my stool and face her. A deep breath fills my nostrils with her scent as I lightly nibble down her neck. She throws her head back, exposing more soft flesh as she throws her legs around my hips. I pull her closer still. I support her head and lower back as I tug at her t-shirt with my teeth, a low growl making her smile. She gets the hint and flings the impediment into a far off corner.
I've definitely noticed an uptick of clothing found in random places since she has moved in. Visitors seem to be more apt to make such discoveries despite my diligence. I make a mental note of direction and trajectory as the shirt goes sailing off into the living room.
Her eyes are closed and she's already breathing heavily as my nibbles move down her neck to her chest. Her hand has forgotten it's mission as I flick at a small breast with my tongue. I compound matters as I ever so gently rest the pad of a clawed finger on her sex and knead softly. She's doing that thing with her lip again which excites me further. I can barely contain myself.
Her eyes snap open as I dip her lower still, teasing her navel.
"We-we should move."
I pause to survey our precarious positioning on the bar stools and chide myself for getting worked up so easily.
"Hang on."
She locks her legs around my waist and we stand as one. I can feel the incredible heat of her sex just above mine as I walk with her wrapped around me to the couch. Which, fun fact, seems to be where the more intimate of discarded apparel ends up. I swear we've had sex everywhere but the bed.
HONK HONK
We sit there panting for what feels like an hour but the wall chrono says it's been the better part of 10 minutes. I purr with content as she slumps against me and I smooth her hair down her back.
"Do you think you'll be working late today?" She breathes into my neck.
"I shouldn't, but I'll call ahead if something comes up."
I feel her nod and tense up with a yawn. I fight, and lose, to a yawn as well. A pang of jealousy comes with it as I imagine her most likely going back to bed after I leave. We untangle from one another and finish breakfast. After taking care of the dishes and kitchen she hops in the shower as I dress for work.
A devious thought strikes me as I button my lapel and pose in the mirror in my bedroom. I go to the kitchen and fill a cup with ice cold water and sneak into the bathroom.
"Payback for covering the toilet with saran wrap!" I yell and empty the contents of the cup over the top of the shower stall and onto a startled Claudia. She shrieks and threatens my head on a pike as I giggle at the blurred image of her cowering in the shower, trying to cover herself with as much of the beam of hot water as she can.
"Asshole." She says as she kills the water and pokes a head out of the stall, weary of follow on attacks.
"I love you to too dear." I smile as I put on my best innocent smile.
"You know I'm gonna get you back." She says as the exits completely and begins wrapping her hair in a towel.
"I look forward to it." I say and give her a farewell peck. She reciprocates buts slips in a tweak of my sheath with thumb and forefinger as she pulls away. I yelp in surprise at the sudden pain as she smiles mischievously. She tells me its like when I squeeze the small nodes of flesh on her chest, though sometimes she asks for it.
If it hurts, why ask for it? Humans are weird.
"I hope that wasn't your rebuttal." I grunt as I cover myself with a hand.
"Oh, this is war that was just a warning shot." She teases. That defiant look is going to make me late for work -again.
I shake my head, smiling, and bid her farewell again. She plants a firm swat on my ass as I turn to leave.
Traffic is crap. My hand hovers over the manual override for a moment as I see an opening in another lane that I could probably make if I gunned it and rolled the car.
If I rolled the car.
Yea, the local authorities wouldn't like that, or Jeratul for that matter.
I drop my hand and sigh in resignation. How the hell can there be traffic when there's 3 different axis to work with? After an hour delay we start moving again, but not before my Omni chirps and I look down to see the icon for Jeratul pop up. I have it set to a bag of dirt. Because he is old. I have special icons for everyone.
Brax is a hamster on a cheese wheel, Ventrus a wrench (because he can be a tool at times), Ree actually has her picture, but its been manipulated to grossly exaggerate the scowl she typically wears when around humans. The human commander got a magnifying glass since he squints all the time over his glasses, and the human Gunnery chief got a stone plinth, he could be as socially dense but equally impassive.
My air car finally pulls out of the lane and down a side corridor to my destination as I answer the call.
"Yes Sir?"
There's a noticeable pause before he replies, never a good sign.
"The Salarian delegation is going to leave if you are not here within the next ten minutes." He says says simply.
"Yes Sir, I should make it in time."
"Should I ask why it is you are currently keeping the dalatrass aid de camp waiting?" He replies, annoyance evident in his voice.
Images of crude and rusty pruning shears being wielded by the old coot float through my mind.
"No Sir, just traffic." I say as neutrally as possible.
"Then leave earlier, Centurion." He says and cuts the connection.
I had forgotten about the meeting. I was supposed to give the Hierarchy's position on a proposed technology swap. It was as bland as anyone could imagine and the type of bean counter stuff I hated. I can't help but feel a little forlorn as I stare out the window of the aircar. The fog hiding the streets below provides a welcome distraction as the air car swerves into yet another lane. My mind wanders as I imagine the skyscrapers jutting out from the fog to be living entities, growing out of the haze to reach the suns warmth.
The car sets down and I am drawn back into reality. Van is pointedly staring at the clock on the wall as I exit the elevator. I give him a shrug and he scowls. Now I know I look pretty damn good in service grays, as a matter of fact I checked before I left Claudia, but I'll be damned if I didn't feel like I looked like a disheveled mess as I blustered my way into the conference room. I feel guilty as a thought strikes me; Salarians, having a shorter lifespan, generally value their time a great deal.
"Sorry about the delay ladies and gentlemen." I say as I smooth my tunic over. The Aid de camp is looking slightly annoyed already and her aids look sullen as they stand behind her at the conference table.
"Right." The Aid says and powers on her datapad. "Shall we begin?"
I try to suppress the memory of such dull affairs (among other things) typically, and I am grateful as the meeting draws to a close relatively quickly. The Aid de camp and her entourage leaves swiftly, chattering amongst themselves and via communicators as they relay the trade stipulations to their bosses.
I stand and gather my notes, intending to slip into my office without any further interaction when I am almost blindsided by our resident sourpuss, Alarees, as I exit the conference room. She's breathing heavily and is still in her exercise gear.
"Hey, what's the rush?" I say as I fumble with my datapad and notes.
She pauses, if only briefly, and casts me a withering glare.
"That fucking furball." She mutters as she storms off.
Bewildered by the cryptic comment I briefly contemplate going after her, but I know her well enough to see she needs some space to get her mind together. I shrug at no one in particular and creep past Jeratuls door and into my office.