So, this is a sequel to Mass Effect. It's set 55 years after the end of the Reaper War. It's the result of what happens when plot bunnies take up residence in your mind and multiply like, well...rabbits.
Anyway. It's just for fun. Enjoy.
Another glorious day at C-Sec. This wasn't what I envisioned when I came to the Citadel in search of adventure; sitting at a desk and listening to people complain. I try not to roll my eyes as the human woman standing before me rails on about the fender bender she was just in.
"That car cost sixty-thousand credits!" She's trilling while I nod, discreetly writing on my notepad 'Note to self: don't crash sky car into crazy lady's car.' I glance over at the elderly (also human) woman who bumped into her precious car that costs more than I make in a year. She looks exhausted, and I can't say I don't feel her pain. This woman has been rattling on for over twenty minutes now about how 'her husband is going to take care of it' and 'you'll be hearing from my lawyers', and I know that we're not really allowed to take sides with this stuff, but I just really want to punch her.
My Omni-tool quietly pings alerting me to a new email. Without taking my eyes off of the woman, I open the email, reading out of the corner of my eye.
From: Cyprian, Cassias
Subject: Yikes
Body: Kind of makes you wish they'd never found the Charon Relay, doesn't it?
I glance over at the desk on the wall opposite mine and glare at Cassias, who is offering the elderly lady a cup of coffee. Why didn't he get stuck with the Human Harpy over here?
"Ma'am," I finally cut into her tirade, though she ignores me, continuing on her rant.
"…and frankly, I find the customer service in this office appalling," she scolds, giving me a disapproving look. "I want compensation!"
I stare blankly at her for a moment, clenching my jaw as I notice Cassias' smug look. "Ma'am, this is C-Sec," I finally say in the most gracious voice I can muster, "I am sorry we don't have gourmet coffee or a muffin display—"
"Sasha…" Cassias' warning voice comes from nearby.
"Look," I gather my wits, managing a placating smile at the shrew, "If you'll just give me your information, insurance, contact info, we will be in touch with your insurance company and Mrs. Miller's. I apologize for the inconvenience." She glares at me with heavily made up eyes, before angrily typing in her information into the data-pad before stalking out, heels clicking on the floor.
"We have got to work on your bedside manner, Valore," Cassias chuckles, leaning on my desk as Mrs. Miller starts dejectedly toward the door, dropping her purse in the process. I feel a rush of sympathy for the woman, who barely stands above five feet tall. I move around my desk, crossing to her and picking up the bag for her.
"Bless you, child," she smiles up at me.
"No problem," I assure her, "Don't even worry. There was barely a scratch on that car and besides," my eyes flick over to Cassias with amusement, "Maybe it'll teach her a lesson for spending sixty-thousand creds on a car." He snickers.
"I meant to hit the brake and hit the gas instead," Mrs. Miller explains with an exhale. "My son tells me I shouldn't be driving anymore. Maybe he's right."
"Don't worry yourself, Mrs. Miller," Cassias assures her, moving toward her. "Sasha here can't drive either." He winks at her and the old lady actually blushes, making me roll my eyes.
"You remind me of my first love," she tells him, "Lucian." Her eyes soften. "He was killed in the Reaper War."
"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am," I tell her sincerely.
"Ah, it's been a long time," she waves dismissively, smiling. "No use living in the past. Fifty-five years is long enough. You two have a good day."
"You too, Mrs. Miller!" Cassias calls after her.
When the door is closed, I scowl at him. "How come you always get the nice ones while I get stuck with the crazies? Remember that salarian kook last week who thought her cat was trying to kill her?"
Cassias laughs, shaking his head. "You do seem to be a magnet for wackos." He elbows me lightly, "That's what you get for joining C-Sec."
"Why did you join?"
"Because Dad gave me a choice," he laughs, "Join the turian military or become a cenobite. I chose C-Sec."
"And your father was alright with that?" I ask skeptically, knowing damn well that Tiberius Cyprian wasn't alright with that.
"He was a little pissed at first," Cassias shrugs, "But he came around. Plus, my mom's uncle came to my defense, and Dad couldn't really say anything since the old man worked for C-Sec himself once and fought in the war."
"How is your uncle?" I ask, turning back to my desk and straightening up, ripping the page off of the notepad I'd been writing on and crumpling it.
"Honestly, he's eighty-five years old, been widowed ten years and is practically deaf in his right ear, but the guy is still walking on his own two feet. He even still does administrative work for the Spectre Operations Department." Cassias laughs, "I'll be glad to be even half as productive at his age."
I roll my eyes, setting the data-pad into the OUT bin for the Commander to take for review later. "Oh please," I retort, "Knowing you, you'll shack up with some girl who cooks you into the turian equivalent of obesity. We'll be lucky if your little chicken legs are functional by that point." Cassias clutches his hand to his chest in mock hurt.
"Well, we can't all be smokin' hot asari bitches who are going to live for a thousand years," he counters.
"Okay," I snort, "First of all, I've never been called smokin' hot. As far as asari go, I'm about the plainest. And second, I am not a bitch," I jab a playfully accusatory finger in his direction, feeling embarrassment wash over me, making my face probably turn a disgustingly unattractive shade of purple.
I wouldn't say I'm insecure, really. I'm not. I like the way I look for the most part. I have a nice complexion and my markings aren't hideous. Honestly I'm just relieved to be done with puberty. Humans have it easy. Two or three years in their teens and then they're done. I went through puberty for a decade. Plus, there's the whole pureblood thing. Mom was asari. Dad was asari. That means I'm pureblood, which is kind of frowned upon. Mom never talks about my father, but no one questions her because no asari in her right mind would ever claim their child was pureblood unless it was true. She knows that better than anyone. Besides, it isn't uncommon for an asari mother to raise her daughter without a father, so aside from some minor teasing in school, me being pureblood isn't really a big deal. But it doesn't make for many compliments when you're growing up on a planet dominated by asari.
"If you think you're not smokin' hot, I can't help you," Cassias cuts into my thoughts, making my cheeks feel uncomfortably warm in embarrassment. "But you are a bitch." He gives me the turian equivalent of a grin, dodging the balled up piece of paper I launch at him.
The sound of an alarm draws our attention as the A.I. comes on the comm. "Security Breach. All available officers please report to the Citadel Archives."
"Finally!" Cassias cries, throwing me a triumphant look, "Some action!"
"Relax, Rambo," I laugh, checking my gun to make sure it's in the holster as I follow him out of the office, "It's probably just another sensor glitch. That automated system they have down there is so faulty!"
"Whatever, it beats sitting around letting rich ladies whine," he answers, glancing at me over his shoulder and making me scowl again, thinking of the car that could pay off my student loans with what it's worth.
When we arrive, the Commander is already there, speaking with the Director of Spectre Operations in a serious discussion. I can only catch pieces of their conversation.
"…any signs of attempts to break into the vault…find any evidence?"
"Nothing substantial…just another glitch in the system created by this cycle's inferior engineers."
I almost laugh at the intimidating Head of Spec-Ops, noticing his mouth is set in his usual disapproving hard line while his eyes glare down at the poor C-Sec Commander. Yellow eyes flick in my direction, before turning back to my boss, Commander Charlie Everhart with obvious disinterest.
"It's the third time this month," Everhart sighs tiredly. I frown up at Cassias in confusion and he shrugs. "It can't be a glitch. What's in that vault, Javik?"
"Even if I knew, I would not tell you," the Prothean Spectre explains, "It is the highest security priority on the Citadel, perhaps even the galaxy."
"Well, whatever it is, it's interfering with the work my detectives could be doing in the office," Everhart grumbles.
"So much for action," I mutter dryly, glancing around at the other idle officers.
"Enjoy what peace you can, asari," Javik's voice interrupts, as his shadow falls over us. I look up into the imposing Spectre's eyes. "In my cycle, I never knew it. Your generation is lucky enough to have never known war."
"I am sorry," I cringe, feeling sheepish suddenly.
"Do not apologize," he insists in a voice only he would consider reassuring, "Your ignorance proves that the efforts of my people and the people that came after were not in vain." He nods curtly at Cassias, before stalking away without so much as a goodbye.
"Was that an insult or a compliment?" Cass inquires, frowning.
I look up at him with a shrug. "With Javik, you never can tell." I nudge the turian in the ribs. "Come on, back to old ladies and coffee."
"Should have been a cenobite," he quips, making me snort.
The office is in an uproar when we return; officers crowded everywhere discussing their own conspiracy theories on the vault. I roll my eyes, squeezing past them to my desk, where I notice an alert for a new email. It's from an address I don't recognize, so I ignore it for the time being and turn my attention back to the chaos.
"Okay, people!" Commander Everhart calls, "We have orders. Commemoration Day is coming up quick. We need to ramp up security for the ceremony on the Presidium. Viktor! Hess! Neema! Aster! Donnelly! Castor! You're all on ceremony duty! Two of you will be at each entrance and you will check every bag and keep your eyes open for any suspicious activity." He turns to another group. "Cole! T'Lona! Blim! Hoffman! You will be stationed at the entrance to the Archives."
"The archives…?" Avery Cole protests in bemusement. "Why…?"
"Because we have orders," Everhart interjects, giving him a look. "Cyprian. Valore. Director Javik has specifically requested the two of you be assigned to the vault."
"Them?" A female turian officer - Castor – scoffs. "They're barely old enough to be detectives, much less guard the place at the highest level of Citadel Security Priorities!" I want to smirk, because I know she's jealous. Kallias Castor isn't used to being overlooked. She's always been the best at everything; the most sought after; most beautiful; most talented. Cassias used to date her, until she dumped him for some rich turian politician. She's never liked me, despite the fact that we've never had a full conversation. I think she resents my friendship with Cass.
"All due respect, Sergeant Castor," I say benignly, "I'm twice your age."
Her eyes widen with sudden fury as a couple of people gasp in surprise, including my idiot friend, her ex. "Valore has a point," Everhart snaps, dismissing Kallie's complaint. "Now, I'll station the rest here and at various security checkpoints on the Citadel. We will debrief at approximately 07:00 on the morning after next. Dismissed."
"Doing some ass kissing, you two?" Carly Hess asks snidely, obviously envious that we've been handpicked by Director Javik himself. I open my mouth to retort, but Cassias' hand drops on my shoulders and he gives a slight shake of his head as if to say 'not worth it.' I settle for a glare and return to my morning work feeling more like the little asari girl who never had a comeback for her bullies than I have in a long time.
For the first time in a while, I have the strangest urge to call my mother.
"You know," I say, biting ferociously into a sandwich as I walk beside Cassias on the Presidium during lunch, "I'm really sick of people acting like I don't know my ass from my gun." Another angry bite. "Like, I'm not just some asari weakling that stumbled into C-Sec. My mother fought in the war. I graduated with top grades in biotics. I have a degree in engineering."
"Which brings me to my next point of business," Cass interjects, "Why the hell did you come work at C-Sec when you could be an engineer?"
"Cass, you don't get it." I finish my sandwich, stopping to lean against the railing and stare at the trees on the Presidium. "My entire life, it's just been me and Mom, and that's great. But, it wasn't like it was with you guys here on the Citadel, with Ona and Marius. I didn't get to grow up with cousins all around me. I just had Mom. And a couple of fish I killed with negligence, but that's beside the point."
"What is the point?" He chuckles, earning a glower.
I sigh in frustration. "Before I graduated college, do you know how many times I visited the Citadel? Three. Three times in fifty years! You haven't even been alive that long. You had your parents. You had your friends and your family. My mother has two sisters she barely knows. They don't even live on Thessia. I'm going to live for a thousand years. Maybe more. I have time to be an engineer. But, right now…I just want to be…maybe help some people, you know?"
Cassias' blue eyes narrow momentarily, before they soften. "Yeah," he nods, "I guess I do." His eyes move past me, before he snickers. "Uh oh…here comes trouble."
I turn to see Cassias' quarian cousin Ona'Koris dragging an older, laughing turian by the hand toward Plato's Plate-O Café. "Cass!" She cries, waving us down while her poor grandfather attempts to keep up with her.
"Spirits, Ona," the turian's voice rasps, full of amusement, "You trying to kill your old gramps?" Blue eyes identical to Cass' turn on us. "Hey kids. Keeping everything safe on the Citadel?"
"More or less," I reply dryly, grinning. "Where are you two headed?"
"I'm taking Gramps to lunch," Ona explains.
"More like dragging," Her grandfather explains, shaking Cass' hand. "Good to see another Vakarian in uniform around here."
"Gramps, Cassias is a Cyprian," Ona reminds him, giving me a look.
"Nah, look at him," the turian's voice is full of pride. "He's Vakarian. The spitting image of me at that age." Ona and Cassias share a smirk.
"We should get going," Ona frowns, checking the time. "It will be getting busy soon."
"You go on ahead, Ona," her grandfather says, "Get us a table. I need to talk to your cousin."
I glance at Cass, taken by surprise. Ona gives him a suspicious look, turning her glowing eyes on her cousin before heading toward the café. "I should go…" I start to back away, but the old turian surprises me by reaching out and placing a weathered hand on my shoulder.
"No, Sasha. I need to speak with you too." His blue eyes look young despite his age. "I hear you two were assigned to guard the vault for the ceremony."
"Yes sir," I nod, swallowing nervously.
"Word has it that someone has been trying to break into that vault. That there's something inside the Council doesn't want found."
"Like what?" Cassias asks. "Money?" The old turian's blue eyes flash, making him look younger; rebellious. For a moment I can see him as a young turian soldier in his prime; fighting alongside his comrades for the cause of good.
"The rumor is that it's some kind of a weapon. Maybe a piece of tech from the Crucible at the end of the war." Vakarian looks between the two of us as I stifle a gasp. "In the wrong hands, something like that could be devastating. Now, I'm not supposed to be telling you any of this—"
"Then why are you?" He looks at me curiously, ponderously. I cast my eyes down, chastened. "Uh, sir…"
"I just feel like you should know what's at stake. You should know your risks," he explains, glancing around to make sure no one is within earshot. "Just…be careful who you trust. Protect that vault at all costs."
"Yes, of course, Uncle," Cass agrees seriously. "Why us? Do you know why Director Javik chose us?"
The old turian gives what I assume is a smug look. "He knows he can trust you both to do the job right. Your mother played a crucial part in winning the war," he tells me.
I stare at him blankly. "You mean she fought, right?" He doesn't respond to this, but turns his attention on his great-nephew while I stare in confusion. My mother has never been very forthcoming about her role in the war. The only thing she has ever really told me was that she fought under Commander Shepard and returned to Thessia after the relays were repaired. Even when we visited with her friends the few times over the years, the war was never discussed; at least, not when children were near. That was where I first met Cassias, on my third trip to the Citadel around fifteen years ago. He was twelve and I was assigned to babysit the children. Those were my equivalent of awkward teen years; my thirties. Being an asari makes for a lonely childhood among other species. I was too small to play with Cass' aunt and uncle and too old to be a playmate to Cass and his cousins. The timing was all just slightly wrong for me.
"Should you run into any trouble," Vakarian continues, "Alert Javik or myself. We have prepared the Spec-Ops department to prepare for the worst."
"I thought you were just doing administrative work now, Uncle," Cass responds, clearly a little overwhelmed. Vakarian only grins.
"Then I'm doing my job right, son," He claps his nephew on the back. "I'd better go make sure Ona hasn't started a riot. Keelah, that one takes after her grandmother." He shoots us one last lingering look, before moving toward where his granddaughter is waiting for him. I watch him for a moment, somewhat amazed that an eighty-five year old turian can still move so swiftly. Granted, most turians live to around a hundred and fifty or so, just like humans, but it's still quite a feat. I wouldn't really know. I won't even be considered elderly until I hit around nine hundred. Even then, asari are quite spry thanks to the biotics coursing through our bodies.
"Coming, Valore?" Cassias' voice brings me out of my thoughts and I realize our lunch is almost over. With a sigh, I nod and hustle to catch up with him. He claps me on the shoulder, to which I shove him roughly, making him give a raspy laugh as we return to work.
That night I dream I'm back on Thessia and I'm a kid again. I wake up in my childhood bed, pushing off the covers and noticing light spilling into the dark room from the crack between the metal door and the wall. I creep toward it, pressing my ear against cold metal for a sign of movement. I hear nothing, so I press the button to open it, hoping no one hears the soft swish of air as it slides open. The hallway in our apartment is awash with blinding light as I stick my head into the hall.
"Mother?" I call tentatively. No response.
Gathering my courage, I slip out of my bedroom and walk toward my mother's office, where the door is open, which is not normal. My mother is meticulous about keeping her office and her doors locked. I peek my head around the corner first, seeing no one; only an empty desk. What draws my eye is behind the desk, where she keeps her various textbooks and reference volumes. It seems to have come away from the wall, leaving a crack. Terrified, but too curious to turn back, I inch toward it, touching the metal. To my surprise, it swings easily away from the wall, revealing a secret room that looks something like a bomb shelter. I notice there's a huge metal door with a monitor attached to the side and what looks like a gigantic lock. Glancing behind me, I realize I'm no longer in my childhood home, but in the Citadel Archives at the vault. I'm no longer a child; I'm dressed in my C-Sec uniform. I step toward the vault, reaching for the computer that controls it, when I see someone step out of the shadows and walk toward me.
I lurch back when I realize it's my mother. Her eyes are cold and blue and her lips are set in a disapproving line. "Sasha, you know better than to go looking for answers to questions that shouldn't be asked."
"I'm tired of never knowing anything," I protest, feeling a rush of indignation. "I'm tired of people hiding things from me. Especially you."
"Some things are better left hidden," She says staring intensely at me and making me bristle with frustration.
"I am not a child!" I scream at her. "I want the truth!"
To my horror, her eyes go black and her voice changes into a horrifying echoing baritone that will haunt my nightmares. "So be it!"
The vault door swings open and I catch a glimpse of black metal open, before I see I blinding red light. My scream is swallowing as the thing lets out a hideous shriek and the room collapses around me as I cover my head, curling my body up as tightly as I can while the world around me falls apart.
I sit up in my bed, screaming and sweating; my heart is pounding horribly in my chest. I glance around the room, disoriented for a moment as I attempt to determine what is reality and what was fiction. It wasn't real. Only a dream. It wasn't real.
Suddenly, I'm no longer a self-sufficient fifty-three year old asari. I'm a little girl again. Wiping at my face with the back of my hand, I reach for my Omni-tool and open it, hesitating for a moment as I bring up my contacts. I second guess myself for only a moment before I hit the call button. I nearly end the call, rethinking this whole idiotic idea, but then there she is.
"Sasha?" Her voice is full of sleep and worry, but it's still comforting because it's just Mom. And her eyes are normal, if a bit swollen with exhaustion. She's alert at once. "Has something happened?"
"No," I almost laugh, "Nothing happened. I just…bad dream is all. Just wanted to hear your voice." Her eyes fill with surprise, mouth falling open slightly, but I see a small hint of a smile appear at the corners of her mouth. "It's been a while, I know…I'm...sorry."
"Nonsense," her voice becomes dismissive. "Are you well? You look a little thin. Have you been eating?"
"Mother," I laugh, shaking my head. "Just busy. I've been eating, I promise."
"So, what was your dream about?" She urges, looking around her for a moment. I can see that she's in her office; probably fell asleep at her desk as usual. My eyes fall on the bookcase behind her, and a shudder rushes through me.
"You know," I begin, still staring at the metal bookcase, "I can't even remember." I can count on one hand the number of times I've lied to my mother, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to tell her about that awful, horrifying dream. "Oh!" I exclaim, deciding to change the subject. "I meant to tell you, Director Javik hand-picked Cassias and I to guard the vault in the Citadel Archives on Commemoration Day." My eyes narrow suspiciously on her. "Did you have anything to do with that?"
"Sasha Valore, are you insinuating that I would meddle in your professional life?"
I purse my lips, suppressing a smirk. "Yes."
Her eyes widen slightly, before she clears her throat calmly and shrugs. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Officer Valore, but you must have earned that on your own merit. I have better things to do than to interfere with my daughter's C-Sec career." She holds up a data-pad with a sigh. "Such as grading term papers. Which is what I was in the middle of when I seemed to have fallen asleep. Tedious business, teaching."
"Uh huh," I chuckle. "I've got my eyes on you, lady. Stop grading papers and get some sleep. What is it, close to sunrise there?"
"Hmm, something like that," my mother nods with a sigh. "Very well. I'd better wrap this up. I will speak with you sooner than later, I hope?" She gives me a pointed look, making me shrink in shame.
"Of course," I assure her. "I will call you tomorrow evening after I get my final orders for Commemoration Day." My mother's eyes harden and I notice her swallow hard.
"Sasha," she says, sounding different; more professional, "That vault is very important. I've read the reports that someone has been trying to break into it." She takes a breath. "Please take care, yes?"
"Always," I promise, noticing the time and groaning. "Alright I must get back to sleep. Thanks for the talk. Love you."
"I love you too," she answers, and I close the call. When I lay back against the pillow, I fall asleep with no problem.