Preface: The following story contains mature themes and describes explicit acts of a xenophilic nature. If you wish to skip/skip to this content, it appears at the conclusion of the third act. Mass Effect: Andromeda is a copyright of Electronic Arts and Bioware Corp.
Court and Courtship
Chapter I: Clocking Out
The familiar starscape of the Heleus Cluster winked into view from the bridge of the Tempest. The sleek starship left a rippling wake as she left superluminal space, the vast ocean of Andromeda's stars lensing about the vessel for a fleeting moment, the looming hulk of the Ark Natanus coming into sight dead ahead. The great craft lay derelict, bathed in the beams of Nexus salvage ships and the faint rays of the local red giant alike. The dying star had not been predicted to leave the main sequence when the Andromeda Initiative had designated this the future Turian home system, a decision made nearly six hundred years past- another footnote in a growing list of unwelcome surprises offered by the uncharted galaxy. The ark drifted along, enshrouded in the shattered remains of H-047c, orbiting the Neptunian world below. In every direction the luminous filaments of the Scourge trailed into an inky, foreboding labyrinth, the intricate formation beautiful as it was deadly. The scars of multiple breaches torn along her hull bore testament to the destructive potential of this maliciously engineered cosmic force.
As the agile Tempest skirted past the twin spires of the Natanus' bow, Pathfinder Avitus Rix was the first to hail their return.
"I've got you on scope, Tempest. How copy?"
Pathfinder Ryder keyed his omni-tool as he paced the flight deck, linking to the voice channel.
"Solid copy, Natanus. Our route back through the Scourge remains open; long range patrol turned up no sign of enemy incursion. How's the recovery work wrapping up?"
Avitus seemed pleased at the news, clearing his throat before announcing enthusiastically,
"That's excellent. We're loading up the last of the cryo-pods we can still stuff onto the shuttles. Shouldn't be more than a day till we're set to head home, if Commander Raev is to be believed. Her tech crews look like they're finishing ahead of schedule today."
He paused for a moment before adding,
"Naturally, I think she has yours to thank for that."
Ryder breathed a sigh of relief. The past week's routine of loading the cryo pods onto Nexus-bound freight vessels hadn't proven quite so simple an endeavor as anyone had first hoped, and his anxiousness to complete the mission was surfacing more acutely the closer they approached the finish line. Between the tasks of delegating his crew in assisting Raev's company, running the Tempest through regular patrols in the general vicinity of the ark, and ordering his APEX teams into light skirmishes to divert the enemy's attention away from this particular corner of the cluster, the human Pathfinder had come to feel thoroughly worn down by the weight of the eight thousand turian lives resting on his ability to pull this off right.
Fortunately, his burden was eased significantly by the diligence of his fellow Pathfinder, as it was by the sight of his team in action. He had to admit that all hands aboard the Tempest had performed admirably to make this happen. A week ago they'd helped Avitus painstakingly thaw out a turian expeditionary company from a designated military pod, and within a few short days "Raev's Raiders" had nearly half of the Natanus' precious cargo secured for transit back to the Nexus, the martial haste and discipline exhibited by the veteran outfit scarcely weathered by six centuries in the frosty slumber of suspended animation.
Kallo Jath kicked a thruster petal with a practiced foot, bringing the Tempest sideslipping astride the ark, the frame-like hulks of the freighters coming into view, hazard lights flicking in synchronization. Tethered to the Natanus in a neat row off her starboard, a closer inspection revealed them to be powered down, exhibiting no movement of cargo along their transfer tethers. The day's work had indeed concluded, as Avitus suggested.
"Looks pretty quiet down there Avi, I'll make the rounds and pick up my crew. Sixteen hours rest and we'll put a bow on this thing in another twelve with any luck. Ryder out."
Avitus acknowledged and signed off. The swept wings of the Tempest soon banked leisurely to port, tracing a new path to the airlocks of the Commons. A newfound stillness fell upon the bridge, the silence persisting for only a moment before Suvi commented on the Raiders' situation.
"Gonna be awful lonesome to be stranded out here for another week before Raeka's team comes in to pick up the rest... whaddya suppose they'll do in the meantime?"
Ryder slouched against the railing of the galaxy map, gazing pensively at the tortured hull of the ark as Kallo's maneuver brought them within spitting distance.
"Well, it'll only take a couple days to prep the rest of the pods, I imagine. After that, I have no clue. If Raev has a sense of humor she could probably order the artificial gravity powered down and have her crew play turian pinball or something- I mean, that's what I would do."
Kallo stifled a chortle, bemused by the mental image.
"Don't let Vetra hear you say that, Ryder. She's been working in the reactor pool and could probably make that happen at any given moment."
He chanced a glance at the Pathfinder before continuing inquisitively,
"Say, that reminds me... what's the deal with her remodeling your ceiling? I recall her mentioning something about reinforcing weak spots in the hull at one point, but Peebee said her floating friend analyzed those panels as soundproofing. Not armor."
Ryder arched an eyebrow, a move Gil could attest was a tell when the Pathfinder was caught off-guard. Fortunately, he remembered Vetra's other cover story, taking only a moment to compose himself before playing it cool.
"Ah, right. Truth is she's taken up a hobby of hers to another level. Would you have ever guessed she indulges in... singing?"
Now that he mentioned it, Suvi could vaguely recall wondering if the faint screeching sounds she could sometimes hear coming from Ryder's quarters were due to this. These noises didn't sound very musical to her, she mused... but then, who was she to judge the musical merit of another species' tunes anyway? The train of thought led her to remember her own musical exposition a lifetime ago, memories she held closely.
"Oh that's... quite sweet Ryder. You know I used to be a choir girl once upon a time if you can believe that. But before I go offering to teach her an Amazing Grace duet or anything, could you tell me what kind of music she's into? More the rock-and-roll type, I reckon."
The idea of Suvi and Vetra practicing hymns in his bedroom drew a chuckle from the Pathfinder as he mulled the question over, deciding to weave a strand of truth into the yarn he was spinning as he replied,
"You might be surprised, actually. There's this style that was popular in her sister's colony that she's into. Can't remember the name of it right now. The music is slow and synth, and sometimes kind of jazzy or bluesy, but the singing is always in this obscure turian dialect the translator never picks up. Drack and I used to hang around the hatch to the armory when we'd catch her humming a tune and, if we were quiet enough she'd usually start singing."
He gave a faint smile as he reminisced,
"Kinda freaked her out the first time she caught us doing that, at least until we let her know how much we liked it. Still though, she mostly keeps it to herself."
Kallo pondered the Pathfinder's words as he eased the sleek scout ship into the docking hub, a skywalk extending to seal against the ship's airlock with a dull thud, the hull locks killing their residual momentum.
"Well Ryder, as much as I would have loved to critique your future duets, at least this clears up one of many mysteries surrounding your stateroom. Perhaps we may yet discover the source of other odd noises, like that periodic percussion we hear from here. Seems like that started the day someone burned meat in the galley. Anyways, we're locked down and you're cleared to cross."
Suvi perked up at the mention of this.
"That's right, now I remember that too! What's up with that?"
Ryder turned towards the rear hatch, both to prepare for departure and to hide his reddened face from sight. As cool as he could manage, he shrugged and pretended to adjust his boot, lingering on the bridge long enough to quash any undue implications.
"I've already explained it to Drack a dozen times... my space hamster got loose and knocked some stuff around, that's all."
"...and scratched you up enough to require medigel and antihistamines, if I heard Lexi correctly." added Kallo as casually as he could muster.
"Well... yeah, that too. Feisty critter, that one. I'm off to make the rounds now, catch you two later."
A cool blast of air hissed into the cabin as the airlock cycled and the Pathfinder beat a hasty exit, his footfalls quickly fading into the dim confines of the ark. Kallo turned and caught Suvi smirking impishly as she powered down the engines, her professional bearing cracking wide as the grin that spread across her face.
"Yup. Feisty critter indeed, Pathfinder."
Ryder made his way wearily down yet another ladderwell on his downward journey through the engineering decks. Rounding up his crew had gone smoothly enough at first, starting with him running into Dr. Lexi running triple checks on outbound pods' life support, while Cora and Gil pored over a reference manual nearby for tuning the drive fields of the freighters' propulsion. Letting them know the Tempest was back in port, he left them to finish their work and set off in search of his more hapless crew members.
He found Liam lounging with a fireteam of Raiders, playing an unfamiliar card game that involved hands getting slapped. The Pathfinder's appearance was enough of a distraction to ensure Liam took a heavy turian palm to the back of his hand, forcing him to relinquish his cards and dignity. Throwing up his hands, he called it a day and halfheartedly assured his companions that he'd get them next time, much to their bemusement.
Taking a stroll down Hydroponics, Ryder next caught Drack as he breathed in deeply of an alien flower, savoring the scent with lidded eyes before noticing him and returning to his stoic demeanor. The tangy odor of sun-flumes was special to him, Drack said, as he could remember picking the vaguely citrus-smelling flowers for someone close to him many centuries ago. But that was a story for another time, he insisted, and one better shared with a bottle of ryncol. He bid the Pathfinder farewell as he walked on by toward the docks.
Taking a stroll past the crew quarters in search of Jaal, the angaran instead found him as he tumbled abruptly out of a hatch, locked in a grapple with an armored turian. The sparring aliens landing heavily on the dazed Pathfinder in a heap of flailing limbs and spurs, and just as Ryder began to wonder if he was witnessing the opening blows of a race war, the three were helped back up to their feet by a platoon of cheering turian spectators who had been following the melee. One individual bearing the blue armband of a medic briefly checking them over for injuries before clearing the two contenders and their unwilling landing mat.
Ryder looked over his angaran crewman half stunned, and half in amusement as Jaal apologized profusely, the lilac alien radiating concern from those big blue eyes of his like a pair of runaway fission pits. The Pathfinder insisted he was fine, and watched amused as Jaal dismissed himself amicably from his sparring partner, bidding the lanky turian farewell in the angaran manner by touching forearms and bumping fists on each others'' shoulders. He joined the Pathfinder in his walk down the hall, breaking the ensuing silence with a velvet voice,
"Ryder, I often find that martial training offers a unique insight into one's friends and rivals alike. But if we are set to leave so soon, do you think it would be fitting to make our last session tomorrow a proper duel, with pugils or perhaps blunted swords?"
Even in Ryder's suggestible state of fatigue, he couldn't think of any way such a match could end well.
"I'm pretty sure that's how at least a couple of wars have started, big guy. Get some rest and patch yourself up so you don't scare Lexi, alright?"
Jaal stopped at the entrance to a lift that would bring him to the appropriate docking bay, Ryder looking down pensively at the faint rows of talon-marks along his purple-skinned arms where the turian had grazed him. As he entered the lift, Jaal met Ryder's gaze with the smallest, slyest grin.
"Worry not Ryder. If the good doctor finds me, I'll merely inform her I was ambushed by the fiercest of little hamsters."
Before he could respond, the angaran was already rocketing down towards the Tempest.
"Well I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Ryder mused ruefully. He took the nearest ladderwell to the engineering deck, ruminating on the memory of that strange and wonderful evening when Vetra had lovingly tried to surprise him with a romantic dinner. Ryder cherished most the memory of seeing her downcast expression brighten as he commended the kindness of her gesture and insisted that nothing could ruin his appreciation of her, least of all a charred entrée. Since that day they had practiced cooking alien cuisine for one another on occasion, though the steamy conclusion of that first dinner date had imprinted a rather Pavlovian response upon both of them, whetting their appetite for more than just the meal by the time the food was served.
Ryder smiled to himself as he crossed another empty atrium. That night was definitely worth his crew's light jabs. Upon reaching the far bulkhead, Ryder prepared to open the hatch when the handle suddenly turned on its own accord. Bracing instinctually for another pair of aliens to barrel through, he was instead greeted by Poc and Peebee, the latter beckoning him through with exaggerated flourish of an outstretched arm. Ryder stepped past her Remnant tinkertoy and rested against the bulkhead, eyeing up the powderkeg asari and her robotic assistant as she crossed him by. The two had made a valuable team over the past week tracking down and repairing the source of incessant power surges and outages wracking the deteriorating vessel daily.
It was an assignment that also gave the adventurous woman free reign to roam and explore every nook of the Natanus, though lately Peebee had commenced upon the slightly disturbing habit of following her crewmates through the service corridors above, transmitting video feeds from above of their activities to Ryder with her own dubbed narrations, in the manner of a nature documentary. At least he would only have to bear it for another day, Ryder figured. After that he would have to coax her into some other off-the-wall antic. Still, it was better than her popping off escape pods for impromptu day trips to volcanic worlds.
"How's my favorite voyeur-engineer duo holding up?" asked Ryder.
Peebee's face was a mask of mock indignation.
"Whoa now Pathfinder, there's no need to call Poc hurtful names. It's only natural for a bot like him to be curious. Besides, it's not stalking if I'm documenting my observations in the name of research."
Ryder shook his head slowly as if addressing a petulant child.
"I'm just warning you Peebs, if I find your friend hiding under my roof again I'm gonna sic Zap on him. Like, with the beam and the missiles."
It was telling that she didn't even attempt to deflect the implied accusation. Instead she gave Ryder a familiar hand-in-the-cookie-jar look and stood demure.
"I'll uh... keep him on a tighter leash then, Ryder. Promise."
He gave her a smile before lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"I'd appreciate that. But tell you what, though- hold on to that footage for your little 'documentary' and forward it to me when this mission is through. Might make good material for a movie night. Now go catch some sleep. Tempest is in port."
The mischievous asari giggled as she followed Poc through the hatch and dismissed herself.
"Heh, who's the voyeur now huh? Alright, Ryder. See ya around."
Another journey through deserted halls and the dim red illumination of the ark's access shafts brought Ryder to his last stop, the massive vault doors leading to the ark's power plant. With an ephemeral groan they swung open on powered hinges, granting him entrance into the outermost containment vessel of the reactor. Ryder strode tentatively to a window in the foyer of the control pit, through which the eerie blue glow of the reactor pool shone a hundred meters below, reflections of surface waves dancing along the walls like luminous arms bidding him welcome. SAM indicated that continuing past this point would require him to don protective equipment for hard radiation. This was as far as he would go.
Ryder stared at the inviting but deadly waters below him for several moments longer before he paced the room, glancing at his omni-tool to find which substation Vetra was located in. A gust of cool air from a ventilation duct made his hair dance as he passed underneath, and the Pathfinder took a moment to find the spot again and relish the cool breeze. By this hour the Pathfinder was quite fatigued, and he closed his eyes briefly as he savored the fresh air. The sound of it rushing past his ears was loud enough to mask the light pitter-patter of clawed feet running behind him until it was too late.
Ryder only managed to turn himself halfway around by the time the metallic blur of the Tempest's logistics officer slammed into him with the strength of a lineman. A small yelp caught in his throat as the wind was knocked out of his chest upon colliding with the window, pressed against the warm glass in a textbook arm bar. The natural strength of his attacker's hands were enhanced by the powered exosuit she was decked in, leaving Ryder struggling breathlessly to no avail like a captured perp brought to street justice. A series of clicks and whirs sounded behind him, and in the reflection of the window Ryder saw the helm of her suit fold away to reveal Vetra's jubilant face, the predatory gaze of her green eyes locking onto the reflection of his own. As the human submitted under the gentle pressure she exerted on his arm, Ryder felt the hairs of his neck stand on end as Vetra's breathing tickled his ear, her husky voice electrifying him as she chastised playfully,
"You're letting your guard down, Ryder. Have to be more careful around these parts. You never know when a vicious predator might sneak up and-"
She kissed him on the neck, interrupting herself as she nibbled her way up to his earlobe.
"take advantage- of such- a good- boy as you."
Mercifully, Vetra released Ryder from her clutches with one final kiss, allowing him to turn about and face his affectionate assailant. The breathless Pathfinder soon found his voice as he brought his racing heart to heel.
"I don't think vicious predators play with their food quite the way you do, love. Unless your strategy is giving your prey a heart attack..."
Another coy smirk graced the towering femtur's face.
"Perhaps- but if you croak on me Ryder, you know I'm just going to make SAM revive you so I can finish you off properly."
Vetra's expression softened as Ryder felt the light tremors of adrenaline ebbing through his hands and into hers as she held him.
"I got you good, didn't I?"
He simply nodded. The turian woman stroked a hand through his hair and planted a tender kiss on his forehead, dropping her voice to a soothing whisper.
"Sorry if I got a little carried away. Sweating it out in the reactor all day in this damn rad suit has me a little stir-crazy, you know? You're a sight for sore eyes, sweetie."
The Pathfinder wrapped his arms around Vetra's waist as she ran her talons down his scalp, the metallic plating of the suit thrumming almost imperceptibly against his fingers as the active shielding deflected even the background radiation of the foyer. Ryder smiled suggestively.
"You would think wearing a vibrating suit all day would be an exciting prospect. But if you've had your fun, then let's get that thing off you so we can head back to the Tempest."
Vetra chuckled, releasing Ryder and crossing her arms, motioning with a flick of her head to follow her. She led him to a nearby decontamination chamber, where she stood on a platform as an array of articulated robotic appendages stripped her piecemeal of the gleaming radiation suit, leaving her bare save for a silken pair of panties matching the shade of purple streaked across her face.
"Let's just say the novelty of a vibrating suit wears off pretty quick."
Vetra took a moment to stretch her liberated body, surely as much for her own benefit as to tease him, Ryder thought. A thin sheen of sweat glistened between her scales and plates, clinging to his fingers as he embraced his exposed lover from behind, taking in the heady scent of her day's exertions as she shivered slightly under his touch. He nuzzled against her mandible before suggesting seductively,
"I think a nice soapy bath is in order for this apex predator."
She gave another lilting chuckle. "Never realized you could read minds, Ryder."
Vetra indulged his caressing touches for another minute before retrieving a familiar set of armor from a wall locker, clicking each plate into place after donning the primary suit and harness, Ryder helping her secure the more difficult components with a satisfying series of clicks. They continued to make idle conversation in the process, and were nearly finished when Vetra abruptly turned, pulling free of Ryder's grasp.
"Something wrong?" he inquired, wondering why his companion was suddenly bouncing on her toes and clapping her talons excitedly.
"Oh! Oh! Before I forget- Varka Raev has something special planned for you. She's inviting us and Avitus as the guests of honor for a Court Night she's putting on for the company tomorrow evening before we depart. Are you familiar with the ceremony at all?"
Ryder shook his head, watching as Vetra regarded him pensively while securing the last piece of her suit.
"I think you'll enjoy it. It's one of the few traditions of the Hierarchy's armed forces that I kind of lament not experiencing when I was younger. I think it'll be right up your alley. At the very least you'll have a satisfying dinner and plenty of drink to wash it down. And before you ask, I'll be helping their cook whip up something levo for you. No burnt entrees this time, I promise."
"Well, I guess I'm sold."
The Pathfinder voiced his approval at the prospect as the two stepped off to begin the long walk back to the Tempest. Linking silently to SAM, Ryder remotely commanded open the tap running above the bathtub stowed in his quarters, simultaneously activating the stereo to begin playing a selection of ambient music at a soft volume. Waking Zap through the aid of his implant, he then commanded his Remnant familiar to maintain the water at a particular temperature in anticipation of their arrival.
Ah, the perks of having AI symbiotes grafted into your head to obey your every whim, he mused.
As they walked hand in hand down the dim corridors, Ryder made a note to have Zap also run a sweep of his quarters for any trace of Poc or other asari tomfoolery. He'd rather keep his nocturnal habits with his spiky girlfriend off of Peeb's weird nature documentaries.
But then again, perhaps it was past time to deliver on Vetra's suggestion that he attach lewd recordings onto his routine correspondence with Director Tann...