"Shep!"
"Quinn?"
Verity is on R&R a few months after succeeding in the N7 programme and is currently just relaxing in one of the communal areas of the Alliance SSV Spion Kop. She hasn't seen Chris Quinn since they passed out of the programme together. They'd formed a friendship when suffering some of the harsher squad training together, and shared anecdotes and borne their souls around camp fires in hostile environments.
The programme was indeed harsh, pushing all the candidates to their limits. One of the parts that Verity had hated most was zero gravity exercises. Stuck to the hull of a ship via magnetic boots was fine, but free space walking terrified her. To acclimatise the officers to being free in space, they would be put out of the ship and then left behind for up to twenty four hours. It's something that can easily happen in ship to ship fighting. The programme ensured that every N7 candidate experienced the feeling of being lost and alone, floating in space.
As soon as the ship left, Shepard had begun to panic. She'd look around, to see nothing but the massive void of space. All around, space. Alone. Very much alone. Only her own body's sounds to keep her company. Her heart became an enemy, banging in her chest, blood rushing through her ears. The faster her heart pounded, the more stressed she became. It was a vicious circle of distress. Despite the assurances from the instructors on the safety and monitoring of the exercise, it was still extremely disconcerting to be floating alone like this.
What if the ship has trouble and takes longer than twenty four hours? That's all the breather tank holds. What if a passing merc ship detects and enslaves her? Actually, that one would be preferable. At least aboard a hostile ship, she can fight.
Eventually, she gave in and administered the relaxants from the suit. She would have rather not, she thinks it will make her look weak to the assessors. The relaxants administered, Verity finds that she can think about things other than drifting towards planets or suns, or being forgotten by the programme. It would take her centuries to reach any body in space from this location, but rationality had long gone. It was administer the meds or risk her sanity.
"Hamish Dumas! If you're listening, I'm gonna kick your ass for making me do this!"
She wished he could reply. He'd have something to restore her, some words to allay her fears, a healing hug. Even though she rarely had chance to visit, just knowing that he was there used to be enough. She was truly more alone than she has ever been in that moment. But Verity found the resolve to suffer the experience and hold on.
After eighteen hours and the occasional burst of the relaxant, the ship had returned. Once retrieved and back on board, Shepard fell to her knees and cried hard. The programme's instructors had seen it all before. She's not the first to break down in this way at being rescued. That she could wait until now is enough for the exercise, as long as the candidates handled the experience at the time. Psych assessments would follow to assess how the candidates coped with it and any potential issues. Verity had passed the psych tests to continue the programme, but she hoped she would never have to put this training to use.
"So, what's been going on with you?" Shepard asks Quinn.
"I'm still waiting for an appropriate position to come up. In the meantime, I've been back with my old squad. It's been fun, all the guys ripping me for being the high and mighty N7 Class officer. What about you?"
"Well, its all hush hush, but there's talk of a new class of stealth ship. Alliance and Turian partnership are building it. State of the art."
"Shit. Never thought I'd see that in my lifetime."
"Yea, so, I've been earmarked for XO. They're still working out the details but it seems like I'm in."
"XO? Wow, congratulations Shep. Oh, aaaaand..." Quinn stands with pride. "Remember my girlfriend I said about? Rachel? The love of my life? Well, we're engaged!"
Shepard stands and they shake hands vigorously.
"Congratulations to you then, second in command to a wife eh? I'll stick with my ship thanks."
"Yea, she's a great girl, I couldn't be happier. But, what about you Shep? You still looking for Mr Right?"
"I've never really been looking."
"Well, how about Ms Right?"
"Nah, it's not that. I've just never found anyone I want to be that close to, you know?"
She has pondered this herself before now. Was her treatment on Mindoir the cause? She had loving parents who cared about her, so she didn't shun closeness. While platonic, her relationship with Dumas had been very close at times. But a relationship with a partner had never seemed important to her. Sure she has urges, biology dictates so, but she manages that herself. She's happy to keep busy with the fleet and just see what happens in that regard. It should be obvious to her, but she just doesn't see it.
"We should do something. Let's get wasted like green gilled cadets and hit the clubs! There's a good one on one of the nearby stations and there's a supply shuttle going there today. They have asari dancers..." he almost sings the last part to entice Verity, possibly knowing her better than herself.
"I dunno."
"Come on, we don't know when we might bump into each other next. We'll have a blast. My treat."
"Well..."
"I can't believe you talked me into this. We are not cadets any more."
Shepard and Quinn are on en route to the station, having convinced the supply shuttle's pilot to ferry them.
"Think of it as my bachelor party. We probably won't be able to meet up for the real one, so we're doing it now. Okay?"
"Fine."
"You guys going to the Nirvana Club? Man, I wish I could join you." the shuttle pilot pipes up. "I gotta head straight back after this drop. But don't worry, I'll be back to get you in twenty four. I've got off-duty time after that. Then, I'm heading straight back, hell yea!"
"Twenty four hours?" Shepard wasn't anticipating on being there quite that long.
"Don't worry, we can just get a massage and relax a while. I hear they have a great parlour there. And don't worry it's not a 'massage'," he finger quotes. "Then some food somewhere, check out the sights, all that stuff. I don't want to be drinking for the whole day either."
"Hmm, okay then."
As they arrive at the parlour, she notices the signs stating it is staffed exclusively by asari. This makes Shepard apprehensive.
"I dunno about this." she says, stopping before the steps to the parlour door.
"C'mon, Shep. Don't wimp out on me now, it's my bachelor party. It's literally just a massage."
"I told you what happened that time I met that asari ambassador, didn't I?"
"You don't have to speak, just relax and let her work out the stresses and strains of the fleet. I haven't mentioned it yet but, I was sorry to hear about Captain Dumas, I know he meant a lot to you."
"Yea, thanks. I miss that old soldier."
"And you certainly haven't been your usual self since we met up, I think you need this. Just let the masseur do her work and forget about the fleet, Akuze, N7, everything. You'll thank me for this, I swear."
"It is your bachelor party I suppose." she reluctantly agrees.
"That's the spirit! Come on then, Shep!" he slaps her back.
There is soft ambient music playing inside. The asari receptionist greets them most pleasantly in almost ethereal tones.
"Aah, Alliance fleet officers, how divine to see you here. Please, do take a seat."
She offers a side area with an elegant wave of her arm and a few graceful steps, the area houses large comfortable looking chairs with a large window overlooking the docking area and the ships arriving and departing. Shepard and Quinn sit.
"What can we do for you today? A relaxing massage, perhaps?"
"That's what the doctor ordered!" Quinn laughs.
Verity cringes a little. She thinks that such brash behaviour is not befitting.
"Eeer... indeed. Is that a yes?" the asari responds, still in her mode of hospitality.
"Yes. Please. Thank you." Verity interjects before Quinn can say anything else and gives him a quick evil stare.
"If you would be as so kind as to wait here for just a moment, I will just see if Arina and Livia are free. Please, help yourself to the refreshments here." She directs with a further fluid gesticulation to the low tables, each weighed down with bottles, glasses, ice buckets and jugs of prepared fruit punch. Each table has a card, indicating which species should avoid which drinks.
As the receptionist glides through a doorway, Quinn helps himself to a glass of fruit punch, adds some ice, then a large glug of some alcoholic drink he's never heard of.
"Chris! I thought we weren't going to start early."
"Lighten up Verity, it's just a little hit to get me in the mood."
"I'm not babysitting a drunken idiot, so if you're lying face down later, unable to move, you're on your own."
The receptionist returns. "The girls are ready for you. When you are ready, please make your way through to the massage rooms."
Quinn downs the drink in one, "Hell yea, let's go."
Verity makes her way past the asari receptionist, smiling apologetically for her friend and fearful of saying anything in case she re-visits her previous asari encounter.
"You are on the left, my dear." the asari calls after her.
Verity enters. A massage table stands in the middle of the room with a bench on one side and several paintings of asari on the plain white walls, all quite abstract, colourful and exotic. Verity does like them and wonders where she might get some similar. She sits on the bench to take her boots off and then removes her fatigues. She strips as far as her knickers and vest and sits back down. After a few moments waiting and studying the paintings, an asari enters wearing a white robe, sleek, sheer and body hugging. She is as beautiful as any asari that Verity has ever seen.
"Hello, I am Livia, your masseur. If you would like to remove your vest and lay face down on the table, shall we begin?"
"Of course. Thanks. And, hi," she replies. "I'm Verity."
Was the last part necessary? Enough talking, she tells herself. She'd normally give her rank and surname, but for some reason she gave her 'civilian' name. Verity doesn't usually feel embarrassed about her body, life in the fleet means no-one can be precious about such things. But she suddenly feels uncomfortable in front of this asari masseur. She turns her back, lifts off the vest and manages to get on the table somehow while still covering her breasts.
"Verity? Hm, how lovely. Now please, relax."
The asari coats her hands in beautiful fruity fragrant oils then transfers the oils to Verity by sliding her hands up and down her back. The skin on her hands does not feel particularly dissimilar to human, something she had wondered. It feels relaxing.
Verity's back now coated in the sweet smelling substance, the asari begins to massage proper, squeezing Verity's flesh with her hands, pushing out the knots she finds, grinding the skin from her buttocks to her neck, massaging her shoulders and kneading her spine.
"I just need to..."
The masseur pulls Shepard's knickers down just a little to get more purchase with her long strokes.
"There we are."
Verity flinched a little but doesn't resist. She feels her face flushing and sweating. However, after a few minutes more, her face is not the only place on her body that is experiencing a rush of blood and moisture. A breathy but short inhale by Verity is the breaking point. Confused and frightened by her arousal, she panics. She almost leaps off the table, grabs her clothes and rushes out, "Sorry!"
"Verity? Are you alright?" the asari calls after her, concerned that she has offended in some way.
"I'm sorry! Please tell her she didn't do anything wrong!" Verity shouts towards the receptionist as she runs out with her clothes under one arm and boots in her other hand, still only wearing her knickers, her undress the last thing on her mind. "Um?" is as much as the receptionist can get out before Verity is out of the door.
Once outside, she pulls on her vest then sits on the steps of the parlour. She allows the cool air to quell the heat for a moment before dressing the rest of herself. Fortunately, there is no-one currently around to see her.
She places her head in her hands at what she had just learned about herself.
"Fuck..." Verity says in utter disbelief.