Turian Embassy, Vancouver, March 2186 CE
"What did he say?" The question seemed to explode into Van's face as he rounded a corner and was confronted by the bouncing lithe figure of Alarees Jorst . Her abrupt appearance caused Van to jump back and launch his data pad at a wall behind him as he assumed a defensive posture.
"By the spirits Ree you're going to get hit if you keep doing that. And he said no-..."
Her black complexion immediately turned dour.
"..changes to the schedule"
"Funny. You know what I mean, did he fall for it"
"Yes, yes, though he does know he'll be the only human coming along."
"Why did you tell him!"
"He asked. Listen, I dunno what you have in mind but if this ends up causing a diplomatic incident I guarantee you will be on the next shuttle back to Palavan ."
Alarees crossed her arms and regarded Ventrus skeptically.
"Don't tell me your gonna start defending these furry idiots"
"No. But I am duty bound to maintain good relations with Humans as a whole, as are you." He said pointedly
Alarees scowled and sped off to her office without another word. She hurriedly closed the door and fumed staring out the stained glass windows at the skyscraper studded horizon. Lanes of aircar traffic flowed between buildings like an arterial flow of mercury.
Everything about this place and its people are soft. I think its starting to infect Van as well. Just look at all the lazy curves and mopey architecture I'm surrounded by. And why the fuck do we have stained glass windows. On this floor. No others. Is this some obscure human insult or joke?
She collected herself and sat down behind her desk but could only focus on work for so long before he vision went blurry with boredom. So she pulled up Maximillian Barrett's dossier and read about his military history; Skirmishes with the Batarians here and there as well as some interdiction operations in the Horsehead Nebula and raids on Pirate compounds all along the Attican Traverse. He managed to accumulate a respectable collection of medals along the way but aside from that the rest of his personnel file was either blank or restricted. His last home of record was Eden Prime, where he joined the Alliance, not his birth place though.
I can use this, he left just before the Geth attack.
Alarees began to formulate a plan to torment the hulking oaf. But she needed more information.
I need to know what this fur ball is capable of. I think it's time to do some leg work.
She knew that he frequented the gym nearly every day after work before heading home so she decided to bide her time and observe him there.
Born 2153 Alarees Jorst was raised by distant family on a small Parthian colony. Shunned as an outcast by other Turians due to her biotic abilities she grew up fighting. It wasn't until she joined the Turian Cabalist program that she found any acceptance. She found that most other members of Cabal units were of the same background and experience. Sisterhood in pain was their unofficial mantra. When a operation against a Cerberus stronghold had gone awry she and one other member managed to survive. Alarees made it out mostly unscathed but her closest friend had to be carried out having had both legs blown off during the attack as well as half of her face burned away. The loss of her Cabal had added to the list of source material for her hatred of Humans. Jaa'quan's grotesquely mutilated body and face the most tangible of them all.
About 30 minutes before she was due to close up shop her communicator chimed, it was Van.
"Hey so I'm sorry about being so high and mighty earlier. I just want to make sure there are no ill feelings."
"I know I've only been here a month but treating me like I'm some kind of initiate doesn't really do too much to endear me to you"
There was a long pause before Van spoke up again.
"You know I have my reservations about the humans just like any sane Turian here. But you and I are duty bound to put on a good face. This trip is intended to get us out there and immerse ourselves in their culture. You can treat it as intelligence gathering if you'd like, but I'd imagine that if you pretended to have fun along the way you may actually have some."
"I will never forgive them for Shanxi Van, or for their lunatic fascist organizations." She was agitated again, her talons absently tapping out a staccato on the wood veneer desk. Another lengthy pause before Van replied.
"Just remember he's our guest for this so let's keep things civil."
"I make no guarantees" With that she clicked off her communicator and contemplated a hologram of her and her Cabal on her desk for a moment before changing into her sweat suit and leaving. She had hoped to get to the gym before Max but was surprised to see him already in the elevator. She glanced at the panel and took up spot behind his massive frame. She could see scars on his back and shoulders, each little puckered bit of flesh probably had its own story but she would be loathing to hear them.
They are so soft and weak. I bet this guy struts around showing off his scars to all the ladies with some exaggerated story of uncommon heroism.
She found herself actually getting mad at this walking testament of human folly.
What, are you to good to even acknowledge me as well? I'm in your blind spot; if you were a moderately competent initiate you'd have adjusted position to keep an eye on me. So complacent, the lot of you.
Thankfully the doors opened to the elevator and she marched out before her anger got the better of her. Her mandibles lowered in an outward display of frustration. She b-lined it to the gym hoping to lose herself amongst the crowd before He got there but was dismayed to find the place practically abandoned.
He probably just lifts heavy things and calls it a work out, I think I'll post up in the treadmill room.
He eventually emerged from the changing room and set about conducting some kind of ritualistic dance. She was keenly aware of his furtive glances as she jogged on the machine. To her shock he walked past her and mounted the machine farthest from her. She mused that if this was some kind of challenge she would be the last one off the machine. Then she heard the buzz of a mass effect field and looked over to see him charging along, each thrust of his gait visibly bowing the machine.
Spirits he can move under pressure. Or is he just showing off
She eyed her console and turned on her own mass effect field. The display read the status of the other two machines so she mirrored his and resumed her earlier pace. Having grown up on a small colony world she was not accustomed to Earth's gravity. She had quickly adapted but hadn't really progressed beyond what was average for a Turian in regards to strength and endurance. Given her small stature she figured her biotic abilities could more than make up for any perceived physical weakness. Her body provided immediate feedback to her present environment as the pain in her joints steadily became more and more acute. She called it quits as her vision began to darken and almost jumped into the ceiling when she hit the stop button and dismounted the machine.
You win this round - furball .
She went back up to her office to change over again only to find the night lights on and the rest of the floor abandoned. She called up an aircar on the way to the ground floor and had it meet her a block away. As she waited for Max to emerge she dug through her knapsack and pulled out her tactical visor and slipped it on. After connecting it to her omnitool she checked Max's location and found that he was just now leaving the gym. His Alliance ID tag an orange blip in the ghostly green overlay of the building. It hesitated in the hall way and began steadily moving down to the ground floor. He emerged from the front entrance and took stock of his surroundings. Various holographic ads and banners cast neon pinks and greens on the landing pad swathing him in multicolored light. When she switched her visor to thermal and zoomed in she could see a mass on his hip that was a good 20 degrees cooler than the rest of his body.
Not a complete imbecile then.
Alarees spooled up the aircar and took off ahead of Max when her passive activity scanner indicated his ride was less than 2 minutes out. She felt wired, exhilarated, and totally focused. It was like being on the hunt again, and spirits only knew that she could use the break in monotony having been cooped up in the consulate for the past month. She landed on a pad across the street from Maxes' apartment and sat down on the cold concrete on the back corner of the pad. Her hips and knees ached from the gym making her give up on sitting and eventually laying down on her stomach. The lights flicked on in the apartment and she observed Max walk around the apartment. He eventually sat down at a bench next to one of the windows and began fiddling with some random objects in front of him. She spied around his apartment with her visor. The apartment was mostly barren except for some very basic furniture. There were glass display cases mounted on some of the walls with what looked like weapons in them. She recognized one case as having only Turian firearms from early in their history. She panned back towards Max to find him staring directly at her, or so she thought. A shiver ran up her chest at the thought of being detected. Her nerves caved after a few seconds and she quickly packed up and left.
Idiot, you panicked! He was probably just looking out the window. I'm getting sloppy.
She continued to berate herself all the way to the front entrance of the building. She decided she needed a drink and took an aircar back towards the embassy where there were a few expatriate bars.
She settled on the Trusty Talon and made her way inside. The bars facade bore a massive hologram of the Hierarchy insignia over the entrance. The inside of the bar was packed elbow to elbow so Alarees had to worm her way to the bar. Shouting her order to the attractively tall bartender, she settled on the bar stool and admired the scenery. His head fringe was impressively long with piercings all along the center ridge. He wore a sleeveless shirt and tight fitting pants. His purple colony markings glowed under the black lights mounted above the bar and extended down his neck and from what she could see of his midriff down into his pants. She was interested to see how far down the tattoo went. Alarees surveyed the rest of the bar and noticed a Quarian couple chatting amiably farther down.
I guess even the scrap rats need to socialize. Where else on earth then a dextro friendly bar.
She turned her attention back to the bartender and let her gaze linger, her mandibles quivering slightly. He eventually made eye contact again and smiled politely. He turned back to his work and seemingly forgot about her. Alarees grew mildly annoyed at the rebuff and slammed down her drink and waited for him to approach. He eventually noticed the empty vessel in front of Ree and made to approach but was intercepted by another male Turian . This one was short with a coal gray carapace. He leaned over the bar and nuzzled the bartender, to which the tall Turian reciprocated.
Just my luck.
She was eventually served another drink by the unabashedly glowing Bartender who returned to his partner and began chatting each other up. Ree nursed the next 3 rounds and took in the throbbing music, letting the music course through her. She was about to leave when she felt a tap on her shoulder and looked down to see the coal gray Turian . He was a bit pudgy and his fringe barely extended past his head.
"My pardon Ma'am but perhaps I could buy you a drink" came his raspy voice. The bar was steadily clearing out and the Quarian couple she spied earlier were now both face down on the bar. Alarees shrugged noncommittally and murmured "suit yourself."
The short gray Turian mounted the stool next to Alarees and called his partner over.
"Two of whatever she's having babe"
He turned to her as the drinks materialized in front of them and he regarded her thoughtfully. By now Alarees was feeling the effects of the past hour and wondered what the short one could possibly have to say to her. She stared into her glass, head hung low mandibles drooping.
"I just want to let you know Rexa appreciates the attention but is very shy around women" he said motioning to the other Turian presently tapping the Quarian couple on the head in an attempt to rouse them.
"He and I are much more approachable in a more, private, setting"
Alarees was pulled back into reality as the words sunk in. It was a tempting proposition but a glance at the clock told her she would get only 4 hours of sleep if she left now and went immediately to bed. She eyed the short Turian and then " Rexa " behind the bar. The gray one had his charm but the real prize was behind the bar.
"Sleep is overrated anyway" she said while she moved to hold his head in her jet black hands and kissed him deeply. He pulled away after a few seconds and turned to the now gawking Rexa. "Get the car hon, you're off the clock."
