A/N: Warning, really long oneshot.
'Omnium Messor...'
Saren snorted, shaking his head in disdain. Outside the window, buildings of all kinds and the bright lights of Omega flashed by, a mere continuously changing blur to be ignored. Saren truly hated Omega, such a filthy and crime filled place should be wiped from existence. Of course the Council wouldn't do it, too frightened by the idea of starting a war with the Terminus System.
The Spectre would have scowled if it were physically possible, but all he could manage and settle for was narrowing his eyes, the mechanical orbs glowing softly in the dimness. The transit car cruised along, its destination the more "dangerous" parts of Omega. 'As if the whole station isn't dangerous enough,' Saren thought wryly. If it weren't for the fact that the pale turian rarely expressed emotion personality wise and physically, one would be able to tell he was not pleased to be here.
He was on a mission, a mission he had not expected yet expected at the same time. The Council had ordered him to terminate Morsin Praelos of all people, an infamous rogue Spectre turned murderous pirate. Everyone knew the two turians had quite the rivalry back in their Spectre training days, the rivalry even following them to their Spectre years. There was no "love" between the two (a grudging respect yes, but definitely no "love") and the Council knew it.
It made sense really though, that they'd send Saren of all people to kill Morsin. The pale turian was their best operative and one of their longest serving Spectres. So when they told him of his mission, he had accepted without hesitation. If anything, it would give him the chance to permanently win their rivalry.
'Omnium Messor...' the turian repeated mentally with the same enthusiasm as he would show to the idea of a human possibly becoming a Council member or a Spectre. It was a human term from what he had heard. A human Latin term meaning "Reaper of All". The fact it was a human term disgusted him, yet, he could not help but begrudgingly admit mentally that it fit Morsin all too well.
The rogue Spectre was well known for his brutal and harsh manners of killing. Many stories had portrayed the black turian ripping his victims apart, limb from limb slowly or ripping out their throats and drinking their blood, and much much worse. There is also the fact that Morsin has been known to kill more than steal, targeting mercenaries the most. Saren highly doubted many of the rumors were true, but then again, it had been a long time since he last seen the rogue.
The transit car began to slow as the Spectre's destination came into view. Without ceremony, he docked, getting his chosen weapons for the job and exiting the rental. A quick glance around made the pale turian twitch slightly once in distaste. It was certainly the right place, but the conditions were anything but desirable. If there were a time he was going to regret a mission, it was here and now. With a slight shake of his head, Saren made his way into the crowd to begin his search.
Even at nightfall, Omega was bustling busily like a hive of bees buzzing away. In the darker, more secluded areas, Saren crouched upon a rooftop corner, a sniper rifle aimed at the street below. Silently, he observed everything below with detached disinterest. Some vorcha were milling about, very tempting targets indeed, but the Spectre refrained calmly from popping a bullet into their ugly heads. Settling more, the pale turian waited, looking patient on the outside but actually annoyed on the inside.
The Spectre had managed to gain some information from a source on where Morsin Praelos was last seen. Predictably, the rogue Spectre had last been seen in merc territory, along the border of Bloodpack and Blue Suns turf. After some more searching, Saren had found himself a perfect camp-out spot with a good view of the block. He would be able to see everyone who would come and go and get a decent shot. There was a problem though, the main cause of the pale turian's hidden agitation.
Morsin was nowhere to be seen, not even a mere glimpse of even his shadow. The Spectre was getting frustrated and impatient, starting to believe his source lied. If the rogue didn't make an appearance, that only meant Saren would have to search again, making the mission longer. That was certainly something he did not want happening. But as he crouched there thinking, something going on below snapped him back to the present.
A lone tall figure of turian shape was walking down the street, dressed in black and red with their head hidden by a hood. At the approach of the lone turian, the vorcha immediately scrambled up and scurried away as if death itself had made an appearance. Saren did not need anymore indications to know who it was walking down the street now. However, what perplexed him was that Morsin was walking out in the open without soo much as proper armor save for the chest armor on his upper torso. It was like the rogue was openly displaying himself for attack.
The Spectre paused, taking in the hooded turian's pose and body language. The rogue seemed unhurried, his body language relaxed and smooth like the well experienced killer he was known as. It then struck upon the pale turian that the other was displaying, mocking any of those who thought they were tough into picking a fight just so they could end up having their asses handed to them. Shifting, Saren crouched lower, aiming for the hood hiding his old rival's head, following his slow progress along the street. 'Let's see how calm and collected you are with a bullet in your head,' the Spectre though idly as his tightened his grip then pulled the trigger.
ZZZZZZZZZZZ-PING!
Saren watched in slight surprise as the bullet zipped through the air only to be deflected as his target lifted an arm just in time to block it. Like it were merely a spitball, the bullet bounced off the limb and embedded itself in the ground below. The Spectre cursed himself mentally for actually forgetting Morsin's cybernetic arms. Quickly, he switched his ammo for bullet piercing rounds as he leaped off the building. The rogue was making a run for it now, alerted from the failed assassination attempt as he darted down the street quickly.
With a quiet growl, the pale turian pursued, bent on completing his mission, always known for doing whatever it took to complete any mission. The black turian wasn't making it any easier though, weaving around obstacles and any people who happened to be around, leaving the startled and frightened. Like a game of cat and mouse, the two ran, Saren not seeming to be getting any closer and it was irritating him. With a low growl, he switched his sniper rifle for the assault rifle, taking aim and giving a small burst of fire.
It hit its mark, one of Morsin's legs. The rogue stumbled a bit but instantly resumed running as if he didn't feel the pain, though there was now a subtle slowing in his speed and a slight limp to his stride. Saren's eyes lit up with satisfaction as he began to gain, the feeling of success rising. That feeling, however, waned slightly when the black turian veered into a dim alley, disappearing into it. Not easily deterred, the Spectre followed him in, only to pause.
The ally seemed to be empty, no sight of the other anywhere. Cautiously, Saren ventured further in, his assault rifle at the ready. It was surprisingly silent in the alley, no sounds of the city reaching its dim interior. The only sounds were his own footsteps and for a small moment, the Spectre felt faintly uneasy, something very rare. His eyes narrowed, the mechanisms working frantically to pick out anything to give away where his target was.
A sudden weight slammed into him from behind, making the pale turian give a startled grunt as he toppled over. The gun was ripped from his hands but metal talons, along with unfortunately his sniper rifle. Said weapons were flung far off and the Spectre snarled and rolled over, throwing his obvious attacker off. With speed and grace, he was up and in a defensive stance, glaring at the other turian.
Said turian had his hood down now, glowing red eyes staring unemotionlessly back, the black turian crouched down in a manner that gave the intention of pouncing. It took a moment for the pale turian to notice that Morsin had red tattoos, something he had not expected from the other. Like himself, the rogue was space-born, bearing no markings of a colony. Tattoos were a permanent sign of colony belonging, instead of just normal paints. However, the tattooed markings on the rogue's face did not belong to any colony the Spectre knew and he idly wondered why the other had them. For a long moment, the two stared at each other, neither moving as silence hung heavily in the air. Suddenly, Morsin blinked, as if just recognizing the other for the first time as he straightened up and tilted his head slightly. Saren did not relax, watching the other closely.
"Saren..." the black turian rumbled neutrally, his voice deep, dark, and smooth like black velvet. The Spectre twitched faintly at that voice, that damned voice, a voice he had hated for soo long and as much as he hated humans, sent chills down even his spine. Saren was not someone who could easily be intimidated, but as he stood before his old rival, taking in his rather exotic yet demonic like tattoos and those glowing red mechanical eyes fixed on him, he could not help but feel a little uneasy. "Morsin," the pale turian replied just as neutrally, his expression a calm and stoic mask, matching the other's own expression.
"...The Council has ordered you to kill me," the rogue said, no question or doubt in his statement. "Yes...and I intend to do so Morsin," the Spectre replied bluntly, no point in lying to the other. "...And how do you plan to do that...without weapons?" Morsin commented, glancing to the guns too far off to bother even making a run for them. "With my bare hands if I have to," Saren retorted cooly as if it didn't matter to him. The black turian blinked, staring quietly at the other.
After a moment, he reached into his right sleeve and the pale turian tensed slightly, prepared for some kind of attack. He blinked in slight surprise when a knife was tossed to him handle first. It was one of Morsin's favored twin knives, his most precious items. Saren looked at it for a moment then looked up, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicious questioning. "I believe using these would be more... entertaining," the rogue drawled emotionlessly, pulling out the other favored knife.
The Spectre's barred mandibles twitched faintly in amusement. It seemed Morsin still had his code of honor, to give his opponents a fair chance. It was ironic really, that a cold hearted murderer still kept such a thing. "Very well," Saren said, shifting into a more readied stance, the sharp edge of the knife displayed outwards and gleaming in the low lighting. The black turian dropped into the same stance, a dark mirror version of the pale turian.
Without another word, the two advanced rapidly. The sound of metal slicing against metal filled the air as the two fought, matching strike for strike and parry for parry. They moved with deadly grace, preforming a dangerous dance of opponent against opponent. As their battle went on, they began to progress further and further into the alley, the blows coming faster and faster with each passing minute.
Saren growled mentally, hating the fact that Morsin was easily keeping pace with him, giving him no edge in the fight. It was like fighting a mirror version of himself skills wise. Yet, as much as he hated it, he enjoyed it as well. It had been a long time since he had fought someone who could stand toe to toe with him. It was almost nostalgic really, being here and fighting with the black turian as if they were Spectre apprentices again. The fact that the blows were more deadly and that there were knives involved were the only things from making it seem like some kind of memory.
A slightly angered and surprised hiss escaped him as the rogue managed to leave a small cut along his cheek, the small shallow wound beginning to ooze azure colored blood. Angered, the Spectre managed to get in a cut himself, leaving a shallow cut along the bridge of Morsin's nose. The black turian had the audacity though, to let his eyes light up as if he had enjoyed the painful sting of the wound. Beginning to lose his patience again, the pale turian struck more furiously and rapidly, trying to find a weak spot.
It was then that Saren remembered the fact he had injured Morsin's leg prior to entering the alley. The wound was still bleeding, leaving bloody footprints in its wake. Subtly, the Spectre shifted a leg closer to the rogue's injured limb. Distracting the black turian with a blow for his throat, the pale turian flung his leg out, knocking the injured leg out from under the other.
Morsin fell back with a slight grunt as he fell back, Saren waisting no time in lunging forward with the knife coming down for his throat. Yet again, a fatal blow was deflected as the rogue managed to block it in time with an arm when he landed, the Spectre landing on him. The black turian slung a punch, knocking the pale turian off with enough force to send him flying slightly. But just as quickly as he hit the ground, Saren was back up again, charging forward.
Morsin managed to roll away and jump up as the Spectre stabbed the place where he had been, jumping back a bit out of reach. The pale turian snarled lowly as he straightened up and followed, his eyes mere narrowed slits. Slowly, they moved, circling each other as they stared, waiting, watching. The black turian struck first, darting forward as he made a slash for the other's abdomen.
Saren jerked back, narrowly missing having the blade slice him open as he brought a fist forward, slamming it into Morsin's chin. It hurt horribly and he was sure that he might have broken a finger, but it was satisfying to hear the rogue grunt from the blow. The satisfaction was short though as a knee drove itself into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. An elbow dropped down on the back of his head as he doubled over, sending him to the ground with a grunt of pain.
Hissing, he lashed out, knocking the other's legs out from under him and sending him to the ground as well. The seconds of a break in attacks was just enough for him to regain his breath and to lunge again. With a swat, he sent the black turian's knife flying from his hand, most likely to join Saren's weapons. With smug satisfaction, the Spectre pressed the knife he still had to the other's throat as he crouched over him.
Morsin went still, staring up at the other unblinkingly and unemotionlessly. Saren blinked in slight surprise when the black turian tilted his head back, exposing his throat to the blade in a surrendering manner. It threw the Spectre off completely, as if he had been thrown into an alternate universe. Since when did his old rival give up soo easily? The pale turian regarded the other silently, curious now, a million questions buzzing away in his mind, but there was one standing out among them.
"Tell me Morsin...why? Why have you become what you are now? A rogue Spectre...fallen from the Council's grace..."
The black turian's expression shifted ever soo faintly, the Spectre almost didn't catch it. Saren had many years to practice in reading expressions and he was very good at reading even the most cryptic ones. This one was hard, but readable. However, what he saw was rather disturbing and he stiffened slightly in surprise, unease, and alarm. The expression was of agony, something he never thought in a million years would be on the other's face. The fact that this was being displayed meant something was definitely wrong. And Morsin's next words only verified it.
"She's gone..."
Music flowed softly in the background, the a soothing lullaby in the dark of a medium sized bedroom. Morsin sighed softly, his eyes slowly drifting to the form snuggled up to his side. Amusement lit his eyes as he watched her, his little angel, sleep curled up against him. Even in the darkness, she looked lovely, dressed only in a soft pink night gown.
Sure, she was human, a species long considered rivals of his own kind, but he didn't care. That was a pointless war, a war that had taken too many lives. Sarah wasn't like other humans, she was different, with her strong will, her cleaver mind, and her fiery warrior side. The Spectre highly doubted there would be any female of any species, even his own, that he loved soo dearly and kept him captivated with her fiery charm.
Their relationship hadn't been easy of course, the two having seemingly hated each other from the beginning. C-Sec and Spectres usually didn't mix and that seemed to be the case for them. However, as the two kept running into each other more and more, the hate slowly died and the small seed of love was planted one fateful day when Sarah had smiled at him, truly and fully, when he had helped her capture a criminal not only causing trouble for C-Sec, but the Council as well. The love grew rapidly and before he knew it, the black turian was now mates with her. Of course, many had opposed this, but Spectre didn't give a shit. If other's had problems with him and his mate, they could shove it where the sun don't shine. He was not going to change his mind and the fiery little woman had made it obvious she wouldn't either.
The black turian gently brushed a black silky strand of hair out of the way, nuzzling into the soft tresses. He slowly inhaled, closing his eyes as the smell of peaches, raspberries, and the woman's own unique scent flooded his nose. He gave a deep purr of contentment, his hold on her waist tightening slightly when she murmured in her sleep and snuggled closer. Closing his eyes, Morsin began to drift, the sirens of sleep calling too him.
However, the turian sat up adruptly when the door to their bedroom was kicked out of its frame, his mate jolting awake as well. The room was soon flooded by people of all sizes and shapes, their features hidden by black helmets and Sarah gave a terrified cry as she was torn from Morsin' arms by one of them. The Spectre snarled and lunged for the attacker but was only jerked back by someone grabbing him from behind. The black turian roared in outrage, struggling frantically to get free, spurred on by the frantic and terrified calls of his mate. His struggles were cut short though when pain exploded from the back of his head and everything went dark.
Morsin didn't know how long he had been conscious now, it felt like hours, days, but for all he could know, it could have been mere seconds. Everything was sore, his head, his back, his legs, and his neck all throbbed with aching pain. From what the Spectre could tell, he was forced into a kneeling position, his ankles chained to the floor, his arms forced up above his head and chained heavily, the joints locked up so he could not disconnect them. A metal collar seemed to be around his throat, pulled tight by possibly another chain.
Normally, the black turian could handle being tied up, but the fact he was blind folded was making things worse. The Spectre felt vulnerable, something he hated more than anything in the universe. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he shifted slightly, trying to ease some of the pain in his legs. There was a clicking sound, followed by a swoosh, causing Morsin to stiffen slightly as the sound of footsteps approached.
"Morsin!"
"Sarah!" the black turian cried out in relief and worry as he struggled in against his bonds, desperate to get to her. "Now now Morsin, do stop struggling, you're not getting out of there anytime soon," a new voice said in a smooth, cold tone. The Spectre froze, an angered snarl coming from him as he heard his mate's terrified whimpers and the sound of chains clinking. The blindfold was suddenly ripped from his head and Morsin jerked in slight surprise at being able to see again, but the sight he was met with only made things horribly worse.
They were in some kind of large cell obviously, the room dimly lit and made of dark gray metal. Across from him was Sarah, chained to the wall by a manacles around her ankles and one on her left wrist. The sight of her bound like that infuriated the Spectre, just as much as the smug looking human Blue Suns merc grinning darkly at him by the woman. He was not alone, a few other mercs standing behind him.
"What do you want with me?" Morsin growled lowly, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Oh nothing really...just to make you suffer is all, for screwing up every job our group has had," the man replied with a malicious grin of glee, the other's muttering, growling, and shouting their agreement, the man seeming to be the leader. "Let her go then...she has nothing to do with this..." the Spectre hissed, motioning to Sarah with his head. "No can do Morsin my boy, because she's the key to your suffering~" the leader said, shaking his head in amusement. "I'll leave you two to get comfortable~" the man cooed before leaving, his lackeys following.
Silence hung heavily in the air as the pair sat there in the dim light. "M-Morsin?" Sarah whispered, her face and voice showing how truly scared she was. "Sh-sh-ssshhhhh, it's alright dear, everything's going to be fine, I promise," the turian said softly, sounding more calm than he really felt, trying to soothe his mate. "Are you sure?" she whimpered softly, looking about ready to burst into tears. The turian felt his heart ache at this, his throat seeming to go dry.
"I'm sure,"
What was probably days, possibly weeks, had passed and Morsin was enraged and terrified. Everyday, an assigned caretaker would come in and bring food, but only food for him, completely ignoring Sarah except to give her water. Everyday, his mate would starve, the growls of her stomach almost audible. Everyday, he would snarl and bellow at the caretaker to bring her food, but he was always ignored. And everyday, he was force fed in front of her.
It was eating him alive, watching her suffer like this, watching her slowly get thinner and weaker. "Morsin.." Sarah murmured softly, rousing the turian from his angered thoughts. "Yes?" he murmured in return, his gaze softening at the weak smile she gave. "I'm going to die...aren't I?" she asked, looking at him quietly. The Spectre jerked slightly. "No! No you're not! You're going to be okay, you hear me?" he insisted vehemently. The human merely smiled more and Morsin wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and hold her close and never let go.
The two froze as the door opened, a shadowed form stepping into the doorway. A moment later, a new merc came in, carrying a tray with turian food. It was a young asari, tribal tattoos along her cheeks in red ink. The blue female approached him quietly, ignoring his growls as she set the tray down in front of him and picked up a fork. However, she did freeze when she looked over her shoulder at the human across from them, Sarah staring back just as frozen, matching wide eyes for wide eyes.
"Neera!"
"Sarah!"
Now Morsin was definitely confused, tilting his head slightly. The asari was instantly across the room, kneeling by his mate. "Oh by the Goddess, what are you doing here?" Neera, obviously, exclaimed, looking the other female over frantically. "What do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here!" Sarah cried, looking about to start crying for real. "I..." the asari paused, looking down ashamed, "It really has been a long time..."
For for what felt about half an hour, the two females talked, reconnecting over the lost time that had been taken from them. It turned out Neera had been Sarah's best friend back in her training days for C-Sec. The two had went their separate ways after the human had graduated and Neera had ended up on Omega, ending up in the Blue Suns because a friend had recommended her for her strong biotics.
From the way the asari had acted earlier, it was obvious that she had never been told who the human prisoner was, only that they were a woman and were Morsin's mate. "Oh my Goddess...if only I had know," Neera moaned sorrowfully, stroking the other female's cheek in a sign of deep regret. For once, Morsin was glad for an Blue Suns merc, because this one turned out to be a friend. "It's not your fault..." Sara murmured softly, only to wince as her stomach growled loudly.
The asari frowned at this, looking deep in thought. "Hold on a moment..." she said, hurriedly getting up and exiting the room quickly. Morsin watched quietly, wondering just what the blue female was doing. His question was answered a moment later when the asari returned a moment later with another tray of food, only this time with human food on it. The Spectre's eyes lit up with gratitude and joy as the blue female took it over to his mate. "I'm sorry you two...I truly am..." Neera murmured weakly as she placed the plate in front of the human.
"It's alright...the fact you're giving her food is proof enough..." Morsin rumbled softly, watching as Sarah began delicately eating the food given to her, as if to cherish it all. "I should do more...I should!" the asari hissed, slamming a fist into the floor. "You can't Neera...what would the other mercs do?" Sarah said, frowning in worry for her old friend. The asari paused at this, frowning deeply. "...I...I..." the asari sighed weakly and bowed her head. Morsin knew well what it was like to be torn between two tough decisions that could change one's life.
After a moment, the blue female's head snapped up, a determined look on her face. "I'll make sure to bring you food Sarah, every chance I get," the asari said, nodding firmly. The Spectre would have hugged Neera if he could and it wasn't against his normal behavior. Sarah's face lit up, the turian's heart soaring as he saw hope in her eyes again.
Time didn't seem to matter anymore, because it only meant horrible, horrible things. Yes, Neera fed Sarah whenever she was on caretaker duty, but it was a lost cause, because the asari would only be put on this duty every three weeks. Sarah was getting unhealthily thin, her cheeks gaunt now. Morsin didn't know whether to howl in sorrow or roar in rage at seeing his beloved in such a horrible state while he was forcefully kept healthy. The fact he couldn't touch her or physically comfort her only mad it worse.
Everyday, he would sit there, watching her life slowly and steadily fade away before his very eyes. Dark, murderous thoughts filled his mind every other minute, wanting nothing more than to get a hold of the man who had forcefully dragged his mate into the damned game of psychotic revenge. How could someone do that to another? It was almost horrifying at how low people could go these days.
The turian shuddered weakly, watching Sarah sleep, her chest rising and falling in slow shallow breaths. Morsin had never really prayed before in his life, never having been the religious type, but right now, he was praying almost desperately, even though there was little chance of success. Sarah didn't deserve this and the fact it was because of him ate away at him like acid, self-loathing and hatred burning away in his stomach, just as strong as the hatred for the man who had put them in the cell. A soft whimper draw him from his thoughts, watching sadly as his mate slowly curled up and tremble slightly. He just prayed that the Council would hopefully, maybe, have sent some people to help them soon.
"Please...I beg of you...let her go..."
"I'm afraid I can't do that Morsin, you haven't suffered enough,"
"Please!"
The merc leader merely sneered, his arm wrapped lazily around a trembling Sarah's shoulders, the blade of a knife held to her throat. A couple more weeks had passed and the mercs had finally seemed to decide to do something and that something was coming in to the room and unchaining Sarah just so they could force her to kneel before Morsin and hold a knife to her throat. The ravenette was trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks as she whimpered softly, her eyes wide and full of terror. "P-Please...I'm begging of you...let her go...I'll do anything you want...just let her go!" the black turian pleaded desperately. The merc merely grin widely and drew the blade away only to plunge it downwards.
"NO!"
The Spectre watched in horror as the blade sunk into his mate's chest, Sarah giving a cry of agony. Everything seemed to slow down to a stop before the turian's very eyes, the image burned into his mind. What felt like forever was merely seconds as the man pulled the knife back out a moment and threw the injured woman away a bit like she was merely a ragdoll. Instantly, the black turian was howling and roaring with rage, frantically and furiously struggling against his bonds. The merc merely laughed, leaving the room as Morsin continue to fight against the chains.
As seconds passed by, the turian went limp, breathing heavily as the futility of his struggles kicked in. "S-Sarah?" he whispered softly, his body trembling faintly, as were his mandibles. The human gave no respond, unmoving. "Sarah!" he called loudly, desperate. At this, the female stirred, giving a pained whimper as she rolled over, revealing her night gown stained crimson along the front, the wound in her chest bleeding heavily. "No..." Morsin whispered in horror, "No..."
"M-Mor...sin..." Sara whimpered as she slowly began dragging herself over to him. "No! Sarah, don't move!" the Spectre shouted. "Morsin..." the female murmured softly, ignoring his cry as she dragged herself to him, forcing herself to sit up and leans against his chest, trembling violently in pain, her blood beginning to coat his armored hide and soak his pants. "Sarah...please..." the turian replied, not even sure of what he was asking for anymore. "Morsin...I love you..." his mate murmured softly, closing her eyes.
"Sarah! Keep your eyes open! Please!" Morsin cried, trembling violently as she was. However, the human began to slowly relax, her expression softening. "It's alright..." she said softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. "No it's not!" he hissed, straining against his chains, not caring if he ripped his arms off by now. "Yes it is...don't worry...you'll be okay without me..." Sarah murmured weakly as she slowly went still, "You were always the strong one..."
The turian froze, his eyes wide as possible as his jaw dropped slightly. "Sarah! Sarah please! Please don't die! Please!" he cried, his voice full of desperation. The female did not move, her face pale from blood loss. "SARAH!" he shouted as loud as he could. Those beautiful green eyes fluttered open and the most heart wrenching soft smile crossed her lips. "I love you Morsin...don't forget it..." she murmured softly.
The turian went rigid as he watched her eyes cloud over and the life leave them slowly, her expression still of that soft smile. In silence, he knelt there, staring at the body of his mate leaning against his chest with that smile he had loved soo dearly. It felt as though his world had just been sucked into darkness, leaving nothing but chilling cold numbness and pure, raw, agony. At that moment, something snapped in his mind, like a fragile twig breaking in two. The Spectre threw his head back and howled, howled in anguish of the loss of his beloved mate before finally slumping into a trembling mess, eyes glazed over.
Several minutes passed and all that could be heard was his panting. A moment later and the door opened and someone rushed in, the turian unresponsive as he stared blankly at the smile face of his beloved's body. "Oh Goddess no!" a female voice cried in anguish, seeming muffled and distant to him. Blue hands gently picked up Sarah's body and pulled her away slightly to cradle her to a slender body in a hug of grief.
Neera sobbed loudly, holding her old time friend close, but Morsin was deaf and blind to it, only seeing and looking at the human's face. For almost an hour they stayed like that, till the asari finally calmed down enough to tenderly lay the deceased Sarah down gently on the ground. "I'm going to get you out of here...both of you..." the blue female said quietly, a faint tremble in her voice. The Spectre did not respond, merely staring at his mate.
With trembling hands, the asari began undoing his chains, the turian's arms falling limply to his sides as they were freed. But after the chains to his ankles were removed and the collar was too, the Spectre was suddenly standing up. With a snarl, his eyes glazed over with a crazed look, his hand snapped forward, grabbing Neera by the throat. With ease, he raised her into the air in a choke-hold, watching her gasp and grab onto his wrist desperately.
"S-Stop...!" the asari choked out, gasping and coughing for air. The turian merely growled, his hold tightening, cutting off more of her air supply. "Please! M-Morsin!" Neera gasped, kicking her legs slightly. At this, the Spectre froze at his name, blinking rapidly for a moment. Then with a snarl, he dropped her, leaving her gasping and coughing on the floor as he turned and charged out of the cell without a word.
Within minutes, screaming could be heard, following by roars and snarls. Firing of weapons mixed in, the cries and screams of pain as the sound of tearing flesh follow too. The asari sat trembling, afraid to see what was going on as she listen to the unseen horrors going on outside of the cell. Curling up, she sat, waiting for the madness to end as she rocked back and forth slightly.
For what felt like hours, she sat there, listening to all the screams, gunfire, roars, and snarls. But when it finally went silent, she whimpered softly, hugging herself tighter. Footsteps slowly approached the cell and she froze, her eyes wide. A terrified squeak escaped her as Morsin stepped in, looking like a nightmare come true.
The turian was almost literally drenched in blood, human and non-human, some of it his own from a few bullet wounds in his legs and a couple in his side. The Spectre's expression was blank and hollow now, the crazed look gone as he slowly walked over to Sarah's body. The asari relaxed slightly, but continued to tremble, tears streaming down her face steadily. The black turian didn't seem to see her, just staring at the body of his mate. Slowly, he brushed his hand over the body's face, closing her eyelids so it merely looked like she was sleeping.
With gentle care, he scooped the body up gently, cradling her bridle style to his chest. Slowly, he turned and walked over to the door only to pause in the doorway. His head turned as he looked at the asari sitting on the floor trembling. "Leave...and hide...they will be after you and I..." he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. And with that, he was gone.
"I buried her on Earth...under this cherry blossom tree she had told me about once..." Morsin said quietly, his eyes distant and unseeing, "she said it was her favorite place to play when she was little..." Saren merely crouched there, listening in silent shock and mortification, though his limited facial movement didn't give it away. The pale turian had known for quite a long while that the rogue had been with a human, always having mocked the other for it and telling him that it was disgusting and that humans are not meant to be mates to turians. But even he did not think someone deserved such a horrible tragedy upon them, even if they were human or a human loving traitor.
For a long moment, Saren merely sat there, torn on what to do. However, he paused when he saw Morsin's eyes focus and something truly wrong showed in them. It was the look of a haunted man, broken and a husk. With a half hearted growl, the Spectre got off of the other aduptly, dropping the knife.
"Get up..." he said harshly and coldly, stepping back. The black turian hesitated for a moment then managed to get up, leaning more heavily on his non-injured leg. "Go," the pale turian hissed, pointing towards the entrance to the alley. The rogue hesitated again, seeming confused though his expression did not show it. "Go! Before I decide to change my mind!" Saren snarled, continuing to point.
Morsin merely stood there, staring at the other for a moment. "...I thought you were going to kill me..." he rumbled quietly. "I will...just not this time Morsin...now go...and next time we meet, I won't be soo merciful," the Spectre growled lowly, eyes narrowing. The rogue blinked slowly, tilting his head. After a moment, he gave a small nod and muttered a small "Till we meet again" before turning, grabbing his knives, and leaving, disappearing most likely forever from the other's sight.
For a long moment, the pale turian stood there, staring after where the black turian disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward, sighing heavily as he rubbed his face tiredly. This mission had been too much for him, mentally at least. Quietly, he gathered his sniper rifle and assault rifle, attaching them back to their holding places. With a glance at the alley, the Spectre turned and walked away, heading back for the docking bay. Only Spirits knew how in the universe he was going to explain as to why Morsin Praelos was still alive.
