I thankfully got over a bout of writers block for this story. Here's the resulting chapter...
The drell glanced in Shepard's direction as she approached. His expression was unreadable as his large dark eyes examined her.
"Mind if I have a seat?" she asked, cocking her hip to the side, her loose tactical pants and tank top parting to reveal a slight amount of flesh.
"By all means," the drell replied in a deep, almost calming stoic voice.
She took a seat across from him, eyeing him up with mock interest. "So what's a drell like you doing in a garbage heap like Omega?" she asked, leaning back in her chair casually.
"I'm here on business," he allowed, leaning forward on his forearms and lacing his fingers.
She leaned forward as well, meeting his gaze with a curious, expression on her face. "Oh? What kind of business?" I would be much too easy if he revealed everything so soon, so she wasn't holding her breath.
"I would prefer not to discuss it," he responded simply.
She leaned back in her seat again and shrugged, her curiosity appearing dispersed. "Suit yourself," she replied uncaringly. It was the response she had expected of course and there was no sense in pushing the issue. An asari waitress sauntered up to their table and glanced at Shepard expectantly. "Bring me something hard." She shot a quick glance at the drell. "Make that two." The waitress gave Shepard a little wink before taking off to fill their order.
"Might I ask…" the drell started. "Why are you visiting Omega?"
She peered at him skeptically. "How do you know I don't live here?"
"Most of those who reside here are typically broken souls with no future. If you were a pirate or a mercenary, I see no reason why you would be sitting here speaking with me as they generally remain within their own company. You also don't appear to have the mannerisms of one such as them."
Hmm. This guy is quite observant. The perfect quality for a hitman, she thought with interest.
When the waitress set their glasses before them, Shepard took note of the way the drell glanced at his with hesitation. "Not going to drink?" she asked scooping up her glass and taking a hefty gulp of the strong liquid.
"Bring me another," she said to the waitress. "This one won't last long." She wanted to reassure him that she was merely here to seek company and not lower his boundaries. Alcohol was a fantastic truth serum, and he wouldn't have any idea of her body's extreme tolerance for it.
He lifted the glass to his lips, with an extraordinary grace, and sipped at the liquid. His precision with so simple of an action sent a chill up her spine and she couldn't help but allow her eyes to linger a bit longer than necessary. He had seemingly taken note of this as a pleased smile crossed his mouth.
By the time she had downed the second drink, Shepard was already feeling buzzed and overheated by the alcohol coursing through her veins. Her thoughts were quickly becoming muddled and her vision blurry. Something wasn't right. The drell hadn't slipped anything into her drink as she was certain to watch him carefully. But there was absolutely no way two drinks would have made her this messed up. Unless… She felt sick at the sudden reminder that she was no longer in the body she was accustomed to. She no longer had the same tolerances she once had, and that included alcohol. Fuck! She cursed at herself. Well that was a stupid idea. With a frustrated groan her forehead hit the table with a light thud.
"Are you alright?" the drell asked, placing a hand on her forearm that had rested across the table before her.
She raised her head slightly to peer at his hand. It was surprisingly smooth and cool against her heated skin. "I'm fine," she slurred.
"We should get you to a place where you can rest. This place would be rather unsafe for a woman in your state," he insisted. "Do you have a place to stay?" When she shook her head he stood and delicately took her hand. "Then you will stay at my place."
She nodded faintly in agreement, not daring to show how pleased she currently was with herself. Perhaps there was still a chance to extract the information she needed from this man. She was still with it enough to manipulate the situation to meet her needs.
After insisting that she could walk on her own, she followed the drell to a rather secluded section of Omega. It was surprisingly cleaner than most of what she had seen and there were no vagrants loitering about. This particular area was most likely set aside for the more wealthy visitors of this trash heap. And no one in Omega questioned those with enough credits.
The room into which he led her was rather spacious and well-kept. There were no personal items visible within the room so he apparently had no intention of making it a lengthy stay. Every item within the room appeared untouched, which wouldn't be uncommon for a trained assassin. The less evidence of their presence, the better.
"You may rest here," he told her in his deep, throaty voice. He motioned toward the seemingly unused bed. "I'll be back later."
She stared at him skeptically. "Where are you going?"
"I have some business to take care of," he replied briskly.
Her heart thudded in her chest as her anxiety heightened. She couldn't allow him to leave, not when she was so close. She couldn't allow him to follow through with this job. Aria was a bitch, but she was the only bitch fit enough to keep what little order there was in Omega. She swiftly laced her fingers into his, finding a little bit of unease in sliding them around the two that were fused. She could see the hesitation in his features at her intimate action. "You could stay," she hummed, giving him an alcoholic-induced smile.
"I'm afraid I cannot," he said, his expression stony as he regarded her with dark eyes.
Shit. Don't let him escape. Thinking quickly, she pressed herself flush against him. Being so close now, she was able to catch his scent. It was fresh and calming like an ocean breeze mingled with exotic spices. For a moment it nearly overwhelmed her. Forcing herself to remember the reason she was in this position, she ran her fingers gently over his frills. The texture was interestingly soft but she was unsure of how the sensation was affecting him, so she trailed them downward, along his neck. His skin was amazingly smooth and not at all scaly as she originally thought. She heard him draw in a breath and hold it, causing her to wonder if it was working.
"I don't want to be alone," she murmured, lightly pressing her lips against his jaw line.
He grabbed her hand in his and held it away, escaping her touch. She backed away slightly to study his expression. Despite his reaction she saw intensity in his gaze. Examining his dark eyes, she attempted to discern his next move. Suddenly, he moved like a viper, quick and unpredictable. His surprisingly soft lips pressed hungrily against hers. He gripped her hand tightly as his mouth held her captive. As she felt his wet tongue push past her lips they began to tingle slightly. The feeling was strangely erotic. A part of her wanted to pull away but the other part was shamelessly enjoying the sensation. Soon that same feeling began to course through her body causing her to feel slightly weak and dizzy. This, mixed with her unplanned intoxication was almost too much to bear and her world spun into darkness.
She woke with a start, her clouded vision attempting to quickly take in her surroundings. She wasn't sure how long she had been out, but it couldn't have been more than an hour. Her heart beat quickly and unevenly as she remembered her last moments of consciousness. She touched her lips, remembering the feeling of him lingering there. Her lips still tingled and the faint taste of spices remained. Poison? She couldn't be sure, and there was no time to figure it out. She was awake now and had to find him fast. He was obviously onto her and wouldn't waste anymore time finishing the job. She just hoped she wasn't too late. Jumping from the bed, she sprinted from the room to pursue her quarry.
It was late and Afterlife was even fuller than it had been when she left. Her still dizzied eyes scanned the club searchingly, but to no avail. There were too many people and her mind was still clouded with the remains of alcohol and… whatever that was. She moved up to the bar and leaned into the turian bartender who stood there. "Have you seen a drell?" she shouted over the noise.
He motioned to a corner of the room where the drell sat, once again, alone. Leaning against the bar she watched the drell closely. He appeared somewhat different; more distracted than before. It was difficult to tell in the reddened lighting of the club, but his coloring also appeared different from what she remembered. He did, however, wear the same leathers. She concluded the ability to alter their color was most likely a drell-thing. She stiffened when she suddenly saw him move. He stood with the same ease and grace that she remembered during their short meeting, and left just as quickly. His exit was so smooth and swift that it had barely processed in her mind. He headed toward the hallway that led to the other section of Afterlife. So she followed, keeping enough distance to refrain from being noticed. She pursued him down the length of the hallway before he stopped and, reaching up toward the ceiling, moved aside a vent grating. With the ease of flowing water, he lifted himself and slid carefully into the vents. She did, however, notice his first mistake. He failed to replace the grate behind him. Not a typical move for an experienced hitman. Perhaps he wasn't as good as she thought.
She followed, slipping into the grate with almost as much ease as he. It had been a while since she regularly infiltrated facilities through their ventilation systems. However, despite that and the differences in her body, it had almost come as second nature. The vent was rather small – even for her – and very stifling. In spite of the discomfort, she crawled ahead, attempting to make as less noise as possible. That was, until she felt something grip tightly around her ankle and pull her backwards, flipping her onto her back. She repressed a cry of surprise as a heavy body moved over her and a cool hand covered her mouth.
"Be calm," a deep stoic voice whispered in her ear.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized the voice of the drell. The scent of ocean breeze and sweet spices filled her senses. She spun her head to look him in the face. Even though it was rather dark, she was able to make out some of his features with the help of her enhanced eyesight. It was him alright. Two drells? Then who the fuck was I just following? Shit, you are never drinking again, she scolded herself.
"There is no time to explain, but I need to stop him," he said softly.
Moving his had from her mouth she made a face, wondering how clearly he could see it in the dimness of the vent. "I'm going too."
"Fine," he said flatly. "At this time, it is senseless to argue."
Despite his apparently dense weight, he moved over her with the ease of a cat, slipping ahead of her through the small space. Grumbling to herself, she followed close behind. She wasn't certain what was going on, but she would find out very soon. If this particular drell was not the assassin, that meant the one she had seen enter the vent was. The longer they crawled the enclosed space, the more she became anxious that they would be too late. She had to reach Aria before the true killer did.
Suddenly the drell before her came to a stop above a dimly lighted opening with the grate already removed. Without a word he removed a pistol from his side and dropped through the hole. She immediately followed suite, drawing the pistol she had hidden in the pocket of her tactical pants. Peering about at her surroundings, she found that they were in a finely decorated sitting room. These must be Aria's quarters, she surmised.
She heard a scuffle and a click, like a gun being drawn, echo from another room. She and the drell took no time to contemplate the situation when they both charged toward the door ahead. They burst into the room, guns ready to face whatever lied ahead. Shepard nearly gasped when the scene came into view. The drell, light blue in color, was on his knees. Before him, stood a smug asari pirate queen, a heavy pistol held tightly in her grasp and aimed toward his reptilian head.
"Shepard," she said with amusement in her voice. "Glad you could make it."
She raised an eyebrow at the asari curiously. "Well, looks like you didn't need my help after all."
Aria smirked, glancing from the other woman to green-hued drell. "Turns out, the assassin wasn't who I expected," she admitted, glancing at the green drell.
Shepard crossed her arms. "You and me both."
The drell beside her lowered his head in disappointment. "Kolyat… why are you doing this?" he asked the other.
The blue drell, seemingly Kolyat, peered up at him furiously. "Why do you think, father? I'm following in your footsteps," he spat.
Aria lowered her gun slightly, looking from one drell to the other with interest. "This is your son?"
He nodded, wordlessly answering her question. "This isn't how your mother would have wanted it," he muttered, his deep voice laced with sorrow.
"What do you care? You abandoned us long ago!" Kolyat growled spitefully.
"I understand your anger Kolyat…" he trailed off, feeling obvious shame. "I wasn't there when they killed your mother. Though, I should have been."
The blue drell glared up at his father with contempt. "Then why didn't you come back?"
"I left to seek out her killers. It had taken a while to find them all, but eventually I had given them painful deaths. When I came back, you were already grown. I knew you wouldn't accept me reentering into your life after so long."
Kolyat paused, shaking his head as if he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. He wanted to hate his father; wanted to continue to blame him for every hardship that had plagued their family. But to know that his father didn't truly abandon him as he had thought, threatened to dilute the poison that flowed through him all these years. "So why are you here now?"
"I'm dying, Kolyat," the drell said, his voice calm and seemingly at peace with his fate.
Shepard curiously watched over the exchange between father and son. Hearing this man admit his doomed fate with no thread of fear in his voice, reminded her of her own death and how it changed her. It caused her to wonder if both experiencing your own death and waiting for it desensitized you to it.
"So, what? You've come to make up for everything now so you can die in peace or something?" Kolyat accused venomously. He gasped in surprise when the side of a heavy pistol smashed against his face. He peered up at the asari in shock.
"One thing you need to learn, kid, is that parents aren't immune to making mistakes. Your father is obviously here to stop you from making the same ones before he dies. You're both lucky to still have that chance. Don't waste it," she snarled with a slightly shaken voice. She lowered her gun and stepped back, giving the Kolyat room to stand.
The younger drell rose to his feet and approached his father. They stood before one another, many emotions stirring in their features. Shepard was surprised to see, that despite their species' many reptilian aspects, they had the ability to form tears. "We'll talk more on the way to the Citadel. I have some contacts there," the older drell told his son.
"I'll have some of my men take you there," Aria stated.
"It's not necessary," the drell assured her.
"If you want your son to make it there alive you'll take me up on my offer. Those mercs aren't going to take too kindly to him when they find out he failed the job."
"You make a good point," he replied.
"Meet my men out by the docking station. You'll want to be way ahead of those mercs."
"Thank you both," he said, giving both women a graceful bow before ushering his son from the room.
"Wait," Shepard called out. "Who are you?"
He turned, a slight smile on his stoic face. "Thane Krios. And I already know who you are, Commander Shepard. I hope we meet again." Before she could respond, he spun on his heels and disappeared from the room.
Shepard stood stunned for a few moments before turning to face the asari. "You surprise me, Aria. I can't believe you let them go like that."
"Krios has the opportunity to change his child's life before it's too late. I missed my chance long ago," she said sadly. After a few moments of silence the sorrow and regret fell from her features. "Well, Shepard, it's been fun."
"That's an understatement," Shepard muttered.
After a moment, Aria winked at her suggestively. "Well, Shepard, unless you plan on staying the night... you should probably get back to your ship."
Shepard emerged from the elevator, groggy from restless sleep. Even after all the action on Omega, she was only able to get, at most, two hours of rest. She was looking forward to a nice steaming cup of tea, but duty always came first. So, she decided to stop by the CIC before retreating to the mess to indulge in the finer things in life.
"Commander, the Illusive Man would like to speak with you," Kelly said cheerfully when she stepped from the elevator.
Shepard repressed a disappointed groan. Was my report not enough for that chain-smoking alcoholic? she thought bitterly. She dreaded meeting with him. Each time he desired an audience with her meant there was another mission to add to her list. Grumbling miserably, she made her way to the briefing room and into the holo-scanner.
"Shepard," the Illusive Man greeted her, taking a puff from his cigarette. "I'm glad that you were able to recruit the doctor so easily."
"I doubt you've called me here for a pat on the back." She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to continue.
"Indeed. In your report you mentioned a drell assassin, Thane Krios. His skill is highly renowned and he would be a great asset to our cause. I suggest you recruit him."
She hated to admit it, but he was right. She had to recruit the most skilled individuals if they were going to succeed. And if this guy was as skilled as people say, he may be a significant addition to the team. After what she had experienced on Omega though, she was both hesitant to ask that of him as well as doubtful that he would be willing. She wasn't certain of the details, but Krios had mentioned that he was dying. Not only that, but he had just been reunited with his son after many years. Now was obviously not the most opportune time. "I can't guarantee his cooperation," she admitted
"I am confident in your persuasive abilities, Shepard. Go to the Citadel. Talk to him. Make him see that our cause is for the good of the galaxy."
"Fine, but I can't promise anything," she said before dispersing back to the Normandy briefing room.
"How'd it go?" Miranda asked, looming behind her.
Shepard narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired woman. She wasn't fond of the operative's constant hovering. It unnerved her greatly. "We're going back to the Citadel," she said flatly, pushing past her to head for the CIC.