Author's Note: We should hopefully pass 10,000 views with this chapter! Thanks for all the encouragement. Please review! Knowing what you guys think makes writing this worth it.
Seven days later: Clone Omega: On approach to the Prophet's' Judgement fleet
"How much longer?" I ask extremely bored as I lean back into my chair with my feet resting on the computer banks in front of me. I look out into the black expanse of space as our shuttle gets ever closer to our destination. The flagship Sovereign.
My pilot Savare finishes typing into her console, turns her chair around so that it facing me and gives me a hard stare. I assume that's what she is doing. It's kinda hard to tell with all of those eyes. With barely concealed distain. "As I am sure you are aware it has only been 10 minutes since you last asked that question."
I plop my legs down and swing the chair around so that we are facing each other. I cross my legs, lean over and put my chin in my hands. With the biggest smug grin I can muster I ask in an innocent voice. "So?" I raise my left eyebrow suggestively. "How does that answer my question?"
I love watching her squirm as she tries to contain her anger at dealing with the 'primitive'. So as politely as she can muster she replies. "We are 27 minutes out."
I do it to her 3 more times before we dock. I may have to obey the general and my 'handlers', but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun along the way.
As we stand and wait by the hatch for the decontamination process to finish Savare whispers to me. "Remember what you have been taught. Honour, dignity and above all loyalty to our cause."
I want to say. "That's what the 'correction chip' is for isn't it?" But I don't. Instead I give her a theatrical bow and parrot back the words she has just said to me in a clear and serious voice. At least that will appease her for the moment.
The hatch opens to reveal three guards all pointing their guns at us. The human male in the centre even has a reaper killer. They don't seem to know who to stare at more, me or the prothean. They eventually decide to gawk at Savare. She's enjoying it I can tell. You can see the whites of her teeth at the corner of her mouth. If this happens too often she is going to end up killing someone. The leader gestures to the right with his gun and stutters at us. "H-He's ready for you. This way."
As we walk to our meeting I can't help but notice how white everything is. The walls, the floor, the computer consoles, the cleaners must hate their job. The only time I see any other colour is when we walk through the shopping district, with the shop displays and the advertisements. Everything seems to be either educational or revolve around the reaper war. We never see any people either. There must be families here, in the distance I can see a kid's park.
So I ask in a false concerned voice gesturing around at the park and the empty shops. "Where have all of the people gone? Are they locked in their rooms? Surely that isn't good for morale?"
The lead guard glances at me before talking. Confidently and assured he tells us. "The populace know that it is for their safety that they are currently asked to be in their quarters. They locked themselves in of their own accord." Gods I am not going to be able to have any fun here am I? I thought the lab was bad.
As we are moved along I briefly catch a glimpse of a residential area. I had expected that they would be trying to catch a glimpse of us as we walk by but that isn't the case. All the windows on the cabins are blacked out. They're not taking any chances are they?
Eventually we reach our destination. A small lounge area. To the right of the room is a small bar with a salarian in white naturally behind it. On the other side of the room are some couches arranged around a small table facing an observation window looking out into space. Though that view is ruined by the other ships out there. Varakian is sitting on a light blue couch facing away from us. He doesn't acknowledge our presence. I look around for the hidden gun placements. One is behind the salarian, one directly to my right and another overhead. There must be other preventative measures in here surely? He can't be this naive can he? I mean we are here to make his dreams come true, but for all he knows this could be a trap.
Once I have finished my scan I approach the bartender. He asks if we would like a drink.
With a huge lopsided grin on my face I reply enthusiastically. "Hell yes!"
I have a look at the drinks available and then it hits me. I have no fuckin clue which one I should choose. The Protheans collected tons of information about Shepard and they never looked up what her favourite drink is. Typical prothean behaviour. Implant the details, forget the little things that makes a person. This is why there clones have always failed. I pick a brown liquid and ask the bartender to put some ice cubes in. Savare gives the drinks a disgusted look and then follows me as I go and sit in the couch to the left of Varakian. I place my drink on the table beside me.
He sits there calmly with his own drink. He swirls it around the glass a couple of times, downs it and then places it on the table. It takes me a while to notice it but I believe that he is wearing the armour that the original Varakian wore in the war.
He looks at me expectantly. Was that meant to be impressive or something? As I am unsure what else to do I match his stare with one of my own. He is going to be the one to speak first.
He breaks eye contact with me and leans back into the couch and puts his left leg over the thigh of his right. He points to my drink and asks politely. "From what I was told you were always a Bourbon kind of girl."
I relax and mimic his position, then shrug. "You would be amazed what coming back from the dead twice does to you. I've found that it makes you want to try all sorts of new things." I pick up my random drink, down half of it and give a satisfied sigh. Ignoring how it burns my throat and making me want to gag.
He doesn't believe me. "I'll have to take your word for it." He looks between us and with his mandibles twitching he asks us annoyed. "How did you find us?"
Savare decides to answer this question, deciding that the conversation isn't going bad enough she speaks with disdain. "Typical primitive. As usual your cycle fumbles around in ignorance. We knew where you were the instant you started work on the crucible. Every race before us has added to it. So of course it emits signals and emissions you would not track but they did. If they wanted the reapers could have found it easily. They never expected anybody to succeed."
No longer relaxed Varakian moves forward. Angrily. "So T'Soni was right about your race. You truly believe yourselves superior". Now he turns sarcastic. "Amazing really then that you didn't defeat the reapers."
"And how did you do that? By using everything we left behind or on your own like we did?"
I better nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand. I stand in front of Savare, blocking her from the conversation. I cross my arms under my chest and address him. "Enough Varakian. We all want the same thing. The death of the reapers."
Savare slowly gets up challenging me, slowly building her biotics. "These prophets claim to follow my race. He should show some respect."
Varakian pulls out a weapon he had hidden in the right leg of his armour. Camouflaged so that it is indistinguishable from the rest of his leg. He threatens her. "That's if you are really a prothean and not a fake."
So much distrust. I use my biotics to put them both into stasis before they can react. The bartender reaches for something slowly, hoping that I haven't noticed him. "Please don't. You will die." He flinches giving me enough time to hit him with a slam. A weak one though.
I address my captive audience. "We want the same thing. So we are going to work together on this. The false Shepard makes her own moves which we are already countering. Varakian, the protheans are coming back, we're just the vanguard."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Clone Alpha: The Citadel
I've made sure that I look like any other duct rat. Dirty worn clothes, broken shoes, depressed outlook on life. Basically anything that makes sure that I don't stand out. People don't look at me, most try to avoid me. Man, they really don't have to make it this easy.
I approach the church of the prophet. All is ready for my attack. I remove the knife I hid up my sleeve and as I enter a C-Sec guard passes me a small phantom gun. I know once the authorities are alerted that I will most likely not survive. But I will do my duty.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Clone Sigma: Omega: Outside Afterlife
As we walk I ignore the pleading of my bleeding batarian prisoner as I drag him along the floor behind me. As I approach the entrance of the club I catch my reflection off one of the walls. I try to focus on the task ahead of me but I can still see what I look like now. The huge light grey Heavy Colossus armour somehow they've made me bigger than Vega, the helmet covers my head completely no part of me is visible. You can't even distinguish my sex.
The protheans have given me the best soldier upgrades from across the galaxy. And where does that leave me? Trapped in this armour forever. The only thing keeping me alive with all the random alien crap they pumped into me. I think to myself bitterly. If it's the last thing I do in this life I will make those goddam protheans pay!
I make my way past the queue for the VIP entrance. The elcor bouncer impedes my progress. "Aggressively. Where do you think you are going?"
I drop the batarian, he cries out in pain, I ignore him. I don't look at the elcor, he's beneath me. I keep my eyes focus on my goal. A flat monotone synthesized voice emits from my helmet as I speak. "The Queen placed a bounty on this piece of trash." I kick the batarian. "I'm here to collect. Do you have a problem with that?"
As I am talking a press a small button on the palm of my right hand and a red blade slowly extends from my left wrist. I make sure that the tip of the blade is an inch from his throat.
He doesn't move. As with all elcor it is hard to tell whether that has affected him or not. At least until he speaks. "Unimpressed. You may enter."
So I drag my 'companion' through the corridor out onto the dance floor. The dancers that see me give us plenty of space as I walk calmly by. Thanks random people. I would hate to have to injure you or break my new friend's hands by clinging onto you. Only in Omega can this sort of thing happen with no one batting an eyelid.
With each step that I take up to the throne room my friend lets out a feminine squeak of pain as he hits each step. It takes a lot of my willpower to stifle my laughter. I think that is the first time I have felt like laughing since they stuck me in this suit.
At the top of the stairs I get my first clear look at the 'Queen' of Omega. I guess the rumours are true. She's nearing the end of her life. Though you would only know this if you are familiar with asari biology. She hasn't been seen using her biotics in years, her skin is paler in colour and though it is hidden with makeup I can see the blue blotches that cover her exposed skin with my enhanced eyes.
Even as age catches up with her, her demeanour hasn't changed. She still rules Omega with an iron fist.
Ignoring me completely she slowly makes her way to my prisoner. She leans down and holds his face by the chin in her right hand. When she touches him he tightly closes his remaining eyes and starts to tremble.
While stroking his chin with her thumb she calmly speaks. "I expected too much from your family, I see that now. Bray was loyal. It is a shame that is descendants do not share that loyalty. For plotting against me I have had your family slaughtered."
She slams his head down with all of her might. His head makes a sick crunch as it hits the floor. With a slight sadness to her voice she tells the corpse. "I will have to apologise to Bray when I next see him."
Aria then stands and holds her hand out, one of her guards hands her a towel and she methodically cleans each of her fingers. As she does that she gives me a measured and slightly distrusting look. "Who the fuck are you?"
I want to reply sarcastically but the same monotone voice speaks for me. "A merc."
She throws the towel at one of her guards. She makes her way to her couch and relaxes back into it. She places her arms on the back of the couch and crosses her legs. "You've brought me someone I've wanted for a while so I'll let that slide." Her eyes narrow at me. "For now." She turns to one of her guards. "Pay him."
I check my omni-tool and wait for the credits to hit my account. Once they do I turn around and leave, not saying a word to any of them.
Halfway down the stairs Aria yells to me. "If you're staying in Omega let my men know. There's always more work for those able."
I don't respond. My masters will be pleased. I have my way into her inner circle now. So that when the time is right for the protheans, they will notify me and I will end her, causing mayhem in the galaxy's underworld.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Clone Beta: Palaven: Biotic Training Facility #2
Apparently after the Reaper War the turian attitude to biotics improved. No longer were they marginalised to the fringes of their military. Biotics can now lead troops and work their way up the chain of command.
Their training however is still done in remote bases like this one, currently located at the tip of the southern continent of Palaven. This base is my current target, I am to kill everyone inside while spouting nonsense about the prophet Shepard.
"Are you ready?" My prothean handler asks me as he passes me my helmet.
I nod to him and place the helmet on my head, as I hear it lock into place I sigh in relief. Just like Sigma I hate my reflection. To improve my biotics they overloaded my body with eezo nodules. This has left me with unnatural growths all over my body. My skin as a result has a slight blue tinge to it. I feel like I must look similar to an asari at times. Because of this I feel hideous.
The armour they've given me is similar in design to that of a Cerberus phantom. Pure white, light weight and designed for flexibility over protection. So when the fighting starts I can't stop moving. A couple of hits from their weapons and I am done for. Though they do have to get through my barrier first of course.
I am not carrying any guns. The only weapons that I am carrying are my katana and a wrist mounted crossbow. The protheans have taught me how to channel my energy through the blade and crossbow bolts. The bolts travel slowly enough so that they can pass through most shields.
Calmly and confidently I tell my handler. "I'll see you at the extraction point in 30 minutes."
With that said I dash as quickly as I am able to with my biotics. The scenery blurs by as I smile to myself. They're never going to know what hit them.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Clone Phi: The Citadel: The Jade Palace - Adult Entertainment tailored for asari
I check the mirror and put the finishing touches to my 'uniform', which consists of 3-inch black high heel shoes, a black thong and an N-7 top that shows a lot of cleavage and shows plenty of underboob. That is also where the top ends. So my stomach is on display as well. Hopefully she appreciates the view.
I run my fingers through my hair making sure it still looks good in the mirror. Far longer than Shepard ever had it, but asari just love playing with human hair.
A buzzer goes off meaning that my next appointment is nearly here. I go to the middle of my suite, stand to attention and get ready to salute my guest. One Amelia Tevos. The 93 year old daughter of Councillor Tevos, who has a history of crushes on the actresses who play Commander Shepard in the various movies and TV shows about her. My job today is to start getting close to her, earn her trust and then when the time is right, eliminate her or her mother and make sure that the prophets are blamed. Destabilizing the council.
Normally someone like Amelia wouldn't be allowed to come to a place like this. At least not unsupervised. But an agent of ours (who doesn't know who exactly they are working for) has her convinced that I am the best Commander Shepard double around.
There's a weak knock on the door and I hear a feeble "H-Hello?" I don't say anything back. She needs to enter the room before I am allowed to speak to her. It's all part of the show.
The door hesitantly opens and her head peeks out from behind it. Her skin is a darker purple than her mother's. She has a small face with white freckles dotted around her cheeks. Large doe like eyes widen when she sees me.
I give her a little smile, encouraged she enters the room, closes the door and stands there with her back against it. Presumably too scared to come any further.
She stands there timidly staring at the floor not saying anything, so I know it is up to me to make the first move. I slowly walk up to her making sure to swing my hips slightly as I walk. I look her up and down, lick my lips and smile at her. Huskily I tell her. "Hello there. As I'm sure you've recognised I am Commander Shepard." I place my hands against the door so that she is between them, blocking her from moving. I slowly press my chest against hers. "And I will do whatever you command. If that isn't want you're looking for we could always roleplay. I have a Dr T'Soni outfit here if you want it."
Brown eyes dart all over the place. Looking at my eyes, the couch, my chest, the pole never stopping for longer than a second. After a couple of minutes of indecision she pushes me back, then blushes a deep blues and whispers. "I shouldn't have come here."
This is going to be easier than I thought. I act like I was taught. As she turns to leave I burst out in tears, begging her not to go. I tell her my tale of woe. The little colonist girl, who leaves her home to become a big actress on the Citadel. But she fails, loses her money and with nowhere else to go turns to this. I tell her how scared I am of my bosses. What they'll do to me for failing to entice an important customer.
She reacts as expected. She dries my tears, promises to pay my fee and find some way to help me out of this 'hellhole'. I can't help but notice how stunningly beautiful she is. She genuinely seems to care. Maybe we can have something. At least until I have to kill her.
