"I'm going to kill him." Mycerra said to Amani after reading the latest magazine article on the Champion. Majority of the article displayed pictures of him in his tracksuit next to his racing sky car. A few featured him elsewhere on Omega, including fan meeting pictures hand selected by him.
Heavily pregnant and neck deep into her academic article on the latest breakthroughs in the chemical field, Amani enjoyed Mycerra's embarrassment. She couldn't stop smiling and sneaking glances at the red-faced human. "He is a gentleman." Amani pointed out humorously.
Mycerra sputtered and mentally spun in a ditch. Her jaw finally lifted, and she breathed heavily, the expression on her face pure frustration. "I'm trying to stay on the down low."
"Too late now." Amani laughed.
"And he put your name in this too."
"So?"
She put the magazine on the counter. "This swings either way, Amani. Either Hinder now paints a target on his back, or Hinder leaves all of us alone. There is no middle ground in this." Someone like Amani should know this.
"Don't worry about the Champion. He can take care of himself." Amani continued typing on her omni tool.
"How's the paper coming along?" Mycerra switched topics.
"It goes." Amani deflected. "Do you want to borrow a dress?"
Mycerra loathed the fashion sense on Omega. "I may make alterations to raise the hemline."
"That's fine. I rarely use the dresses." Amani waved her off.
Mycerra invaded Amani's closet. The couch cramped the built-in closets inconveniently located in the living room area. She squeezed the doors open with a few inches to spare and sorted through the color selection. Red, blue, black, and white laid out in front of her neatly separated by dominant color per piece. She selected a white leather dress with a slit to mid-thigh and diving cleavage. Taking it out of the closet, she studied it under the lights.
"I forgot I had that." Amani said.
Mycerra started.
"I bought that on Ilium. Never found the occasion to use it. You should wear it tonight." Amani encouraged.
She ran her hand over the leather, amazed at the quality and color. "I think I will." She mumbled appreciatively.
Closing the closet and putting the dress in the bedroom, she found her stripper heels and paired them with the dress. She wondered if adding jewelry would be overkill for the garment. Amani answered the door amid her contemplation.
A line of people entered, led by Hadrian Yanus, and waited for direction from Hadrian.
"Mycerra, you have guests." Amani announced.
Hadrian leaned over to hug Amani. She fell into the open arms. "You're glowing."
"I want her back the way she leaves, Hadrian." Amani warned him fairly. "If she comes home drunk, I will not be upset."
Hadrian laughed, the dual tones playing on each other harmoniously. "You have my word she will be entertained." He assured Amani.
She hobbled back over to her couch and returned to her research and academic paper/article.
Mycerra walked toward Hadrian, having no idea exactly how eventful the rest of the night would be. Hadrian's stylist gave the leather dress one look and insisted they needed accessories. The PR specialist tried to tell Mycerra how to act and what to say during the charity event. Amani split her attention between the research and the live-action rom-com in front of her. Mycerra waded through the thick of the attention with minimal optimism she might enjoy herself this evening. Hadrian sat back with Amani and made casual conversation when she wasn't working.
The stylist virtually shopped for accessories from her data pad and received a delivery within two hours of the order.
"Where can I get service like that?" Amani asked slack jawed.
The older asari faced her. "The Champion has a premium subscription service."
"It's worth the fee." Hadrian told Amani smugly.
"Does that cover all shops or just one?"
"Elkoss Combine and Harrot sponsor me. Ipanna Gregonk is a salarian designer who sponsors me on the condition I wear her designs in public." He answered. "I could ask her about maternity clothing if you'd like."
"I have enough maternity lab coats, pants and shirts." Amani forewent the offer.
Mycerra picked through the accessories delivered. She decided to wear a ring carved from black stone. She showed the stylist how to straighten her hair and then let the stylist play with it like a child discovering a new toy. They settled on ponytail styled in tight curls and dramatic make up to match the feel of the leather and the stone ring.
"You look dangerous." The stylist awed at her work.
The mirror reflected a woman in skillfully applied make up accentuating the eyes and lips. Mycerra's eye color popped out without effort.
She touched her hair and played with the tight curls in the ponytail. "I feel dangerous."
Amani stood behind Mycerra and ran her hands along Mycerra's bare arms. "Why don't you wear make up more often?"
"I was never allowed to wear make up at Hobalt's. When I was on the job for Mr. Wallace, I didn't want attention. My job was to protect, not be the pretty bodyguard everyone hit on."
Amani appreciatively slid her hands along Mycerra's neck and rubbed. "You're more than welcome to be the stunning bodyguard for me."
Mycerra's cheeks flamed. She caught Hadrian watching them, the tenderness of his gaze unmistakable. He may have said one thing for the article, but she suspected he yearned for someone to make him feel special the same way Amani made her feel special. Even bachelors wanted someone to love them.
Mycerra captured the hand creeping toward her exposed cleavage and kissed it. A blue lip stain blended in with Amani's teal skin tone.
"Enjoy yourself. I'll wait up." Amani promised.
The tender moment lasted a few minutes longer before Hadrian escaped with Mycerra to his sky car. The new paint job, a flat jade green with the number one in glittering black, easily differentiated the vehicle. He helped her into the vehicle and closed the door behind her.
She settled back into the leather seat, leather squeaking against leather.
"You look stunning, Colton."
"Thank you, Yanus."
He started the sky car and joined the traffic flow. "What's your secret? How do you make it work?"
"Make what work?" She asked cautiously.
"You and Amani." His eyes stayed on the traffic.
She lounged in the seat and stretched out her legs. "I think it stems more from I want her to feel like she doesn't have to worry about me leaving rather than me diving headfirst into the multicultural world around me. She's her own person too, and I want to respect that. All her life she's been under this pressure to do the perfect thing every time and any time she fails to do that, she's criticized by her mother. No one's perfect, not even her mother. I let her be imperfect."
Congestion near the turn off for the Omega Criminal Museum slowed them to a crawl. Traffic control rerouted through-traffic. Once they neared the choke point, an escort separated them from the mass traffic into a VIP lane. Once more on the fast track, they arrived at the grand museum to a mass of reporters and journalists mobbing the entrances and exits to the museum and parking lots. Aria met them at the parking lot exit with a small armed guard.
Mycerra pulled at the leather dress and it's altered hemline. She kept the slit and trimmed the hemline to her kneecaps. In hindsight, with all the attention on her, she preferred the longer hemline with a double slit instead of the single side slit.
"Your fine." Hadrian assured her.
She squared her shoulders. The extranet was forever. The magazine article, inevitably, would reach people in power. They'd dig. Her actions on Omega would haunt her for the rest of her life, and she hoped and prayed everyone accepted the circumstances around those actions.
A firm arm wrapped around her shoulder.
She looked up, her practiced neutral expression in place. "Rogue thoughts."
"I hope you're ready to meet people from Thessia, Palaven, Kahje and elsewhere." Aria said.
Mycerra shrugged. "Onward, Aria."
"Don't fuck this up, Colton." Aria warned.
"I'm here as a guest." She smiled up at Hadrian. "I'll be the perfect little arm piece."
Hadrian's mandible twitched. He stayed silent.
Aria motioned for them follow. The mixed guard of salarians and turians escorted them through the crowd pressing on them for pictures, answers to questions shouted, and the opportunity to 'meet' them physically. Mycerra huddled closer to Hadrian. The energy ebbing from the crowd etched into her skin and soul in a way she rejected entirely.
Worship our attention. Want it. Need it. Bend your knee to us. Be perfect. Perform. Perform for approval. Don't question.
"Will human migration become an issue for Omega?" A salarian shouted.
"Colton, Colton! Is it true you prefer Asari over Turians?" A faceless voice drifted from the left.
A turian thrust a microphone in her direction. The guard quickly intervened before Mycerra freaked out. "Do you have any words for the Turian Hierarchy, Miss Colton?"
She stopped specifically for him, grateful for the respectful tone and lowered volume. She cleared her throat nervously and looked directly at the handsomely dressed turian. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for the turian hierarchy." She answered the question.
The salarian put his hand on her shoulder to guide her away before the throbbing horde of individuals threaded toward them.
"Is it true you have connections in the hierarchy?"
"I'd like to think my connections shouldn't matter to the people of Omega." She dodged deftly.
The turian leaned over the rope barricade. "But you do have connections?"
She smiled politely, made note of the press card he wore, and gestured to it. "We'll talk later, alright?"
He leaned back, nodding quickly.
Committing the name of the individual and the media company to memory, she rejoined Hadrian.
"Do we have anything to worry about from humans?" An asari reporter shouted toward the roped off blue carpet leading to the main entrance awash in bright lights. "Colton! Do you have anything you want Omega to know?"
Drones snapped pictures and recorded footage continuously. She blinked away spots of light in her vision. Mycerra kept her attention forward.
"Smile and wave." Hadrian whispered.
She squeezed his arm and waved with one hand. The blue carpet stretched on forever. She ignored further questions. Reaching the steps, she caught Aria sizing her up in disapproval. She cocked her head in response.
Her gaze turned from Aria to the miniature skyscraper. The soaring glass and metal archway danced over smaller builders. The glass reflected Omega's skyline. She admired the delicate asari based architecture with wonder. A significantly smaller, more appropriately sized arch draped around the entrance/exit they approached. Bright lights flooded the entrance/exit to the point of it hurting her eyes. She looked away after spots reappeared.
Stepping through the automatic sliding doors, she entered an atrium with soaring ceilings and glass skylights. Well-dressed people milled around glass enclosed exhibits drinks in hand. A few hanar floated around. Light music, the extreme contrast against Aria's famous club music, danced through the charity event. The calm of the group inside eased Mycerra's discomfort from the hectic crowd outside.
Hadrian pulled her away from front entrance toward a waiter with fresh drinks.
"Two dextro based drinks." Hadrian ordered.
"Humans are amino-acid based." She corrected him. "One dextro based, one amino-acid based."
The waiter handed over two drinks, smiled, and spun away to address another patron.
Hadrian pointed out people in low whispers. Weapon smugglers, Red Sand producers, suspected spies and double agents, prominent government figures, asari escorts, hanar ambassadors, drell assassins, krogan representatives; the list went on and on. She forgot to record it via omni tool, names slipping in and out. She stopped him after five minutes of nonstop naming people.
"So, behave." She summed up smartly.
He leaned over and touched her cheek. "Be smart. How you act is irrelevant otherwise." He whispered in her ear.
She smiled at him. "No offense but I'd rather avoid the Red Sand producers. I don't much mind the weapon smugglers, and it would be interesting to meet a few ambassadors, but honestly, I'm here to keep you company. So, wherever you want to go, I'm on your arm."
He curled her hand around his arm. "Thank you."
She sipped her drink and gestured for him to lead the way. He gravitated toward the main exhibit in the atrium, a statue of the Patriarch. The plaque stated Patriarch's history on Omega.
"Pre-Aria. Impressive." She whistled. "I would have bought tickets to see that fight."
"Rumor holds, and bear in mind it's been centuries, that Patriarch would have died if not for Aria choosing to keep him alive." He whispered.
Mycerra held back laughter. "She's a complex individual when she wants to be."
"And smart." He added.
"Mr. Yanus." A female salarian voice approached from behind.
They turned toward the voice and faced a well dressed female salarian.
"I wanted to thank you for the interview. You would not believe the amount of comments about the hierarchy and support you've earned for your stand on batarian raiders and slavers." She continued to speak jovially.
Mycerra gave Hadrian a quick glance.
"And you must be Mycerra Colton. I've met Wei Bohai. A charming young man." The salarian charged forward effortlessly. "I'd be delighted if I could ask you questions about humanity sometimes."
The enthusiasm and lighthearted tone lifted Mycerra's mood. She tried to mentally compose a proper diplomatic response.
"I forgot to introduce myself. Yvynn Baelin. Journalist." She extended her hand.
Hadrian nudged her.
She shook the bigger hand awkwardly.
"So shy. You don't need to be." The journalist reassured her.
She smiled at Yvynn Baelin and gathered the courage. "I can only speak on behalf of myself, but I'd be willing to answer questions. I reserve the right to refuse answering questions based on the impact on my quality of life, given the setting." She gestured broadly.
The journalist smiled and nodded. "Excellent. Well, don't let me stop you from enjoying the evening. No expense spared tonight."
Mycerra half waved cheerfully and waited until the journalist walked away. She backhanded Hadrian's torso and instantly regret it. "Next time you pull me into something like this, I will kill you." He laughed at her. "I need less attention, not more."
"Why?" He asked seriously.
"I'm running for Mayor at Haven 1 when I return."
"For Mayor? Public service? I never knew. I have connections that could offer advice- "
She face palmed.
"You don't want the recommendation?" He asked in a tone she never heard before.
Her gut sank. "If I offended you, I'm sorry. I'm sure your connections can offer me sound advice, but I'm trying to avoid people demanding I undergo psyche evals and throw around shade about my Omega connections. Not that I'm ashamed of the connections, but people back on Earth won't understand. It's a whole different culture here. I can't go back and explain that without fall out. You know?"
His eyes shifted across the room before they landed on her again. "You want to win the election."
"Well, I mean…yes, I want to win the election." She earned the right to run for Mayor. She helped build Haven 1 up from the ground. She deserved the opportunity of a fair election. "There's a few others in the running. A preacher who thinks a relationship with aliens is dangerous and doomed. And a Henry Lawson, ex-government. Alliance backed. It'll be a stiff fight."
"What makes you think you'll win?" Hadrian demanded. "What's your pedestal of confidence based off of?"
She leaned in. "I helped build Haven 1. The other two are newcomers snatching up the glory that I helped establish. I co-founded Haven 1. So did Wei Bohai. I have more right to that victory than Henry Lawson or Chuckles McPreach."
His face screwed up in thought about the name Chuckles McPreach, then chuckled.
"I'm not going to sell out and campaign like a real politician, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to pour my heart into winning people over. Again."
"I have faith in you." He promised.
She considered the dual tones. "Win or lose, I'll give my best." She promised herself. "If I win, I'll be mayor for four years before election year again."
He offered his arm. They drifted toward the next exhibit, a statue dedicated to the Blue Suns. Hadrian said a quick prayer in front of it. She sipped her drink, checked the level of his drink, and noticed he had hadn't touched a drop of it. She scrutinized the bottom of her glass for residue, any evidence the drink might be poisoned or drugged. She saw nothing.
She heard Lotticia Hinder before she felt the hand on her hip. Lenaye Ysett trailed after her worst nightmare. She inhaled and exhaled.
"Hadrian Yanus, The Champion. I feel that we should have met prior to this." Lotticia Hinder breached the zone of comfort they established for themselves.
Hadrian finally sipped his drink.
"Lotticia Hinder, Aria's successor." She appreciatively eyed up Hadrian.
A cold shiver ran down Mycerra's spine. Hadrian drank up the attention like a dehydrated traveler in search of comfort and luxury.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to steal him for the hour, Colton." Hinder's voice scraped along her skin and down her spine. The cold, menacing smile iced over any hope for decency. "Your future mother-in-law offered to be your social anchor."
Lenaye's equally cold smile ruined Mycerra's rising spirits.
She forced a smile. "I'll be fine." She lied. "We'll talk later."
"No more cancelling cards with us, Colton." Hadrian scolded her lightly.
Her gut sunk further and further as Hinder and the Champion mingled with the other guests. Lenaye stood at her side, a silent reminder that her once optimistic evening dived into the bowels of hell.
Lenaye broke the silence first. "You look ridiculous."
Breathe in, breathe out. Set the example.
"You need a better stylist."
Breathe in, breathe out. Be the example.
"You look constipated. At least smile." Lenaye needled.
"I was supposed to be his plus one, not yours." She snapped. "And I'm not spending all evening suffering your company. Goodnight, Lenaye."
Lenaye grabbed her arm and held her in place. "You don't want to upset Amani and we need to talk about the future of my granddaughter." She commanded.
Mycerra prayed for her sanity. She closed her eyes and listened to the languages around her. The co-mingling of the foreign languages raised the tension incrementally. Unknown to her, Lenaye and a hanar ambassador watched her dispel biotic energy through both palms. She opened her eyes, palms tingling, and drink curiously charged. She sipped the drink, resisting the urge to throw it at Lenaye.
"We're living on Earth, Lenaye. You know this already."
"Why Earth? Why not Cyone?"
"Because I'm tired of being surrounded by aliens I can't trust." She seethed. "I'm tired of waking up and wondering if today is going to be the last day I breathe. I'm tired of counting the exits and entrances just in case someone becomes trigger happy. Where being human isn't a sin or an oddity. To avoid people like you."
"People like me?" Lenaye's voice dipped. "Do you know who I am? I am- "
"You're a controlling bitch who wants to own your daughter and raise your granddaughter as another daughter because you don't trust your daughter to be a good mother." Mycerra downed her drink, regretted it, and placed the empty glass on a passing tray. "All you do is put down anyone she chooses, question her every decision and expect her to bow down to you. Breaking news, Lenaye, Defense Council or not, you don't own her."
The glass in Lenaye's hand exploded. Mycerra brushed off the splinters of glass from her dress and plucked out one shard that impaled her shoulder.
"I am not dealing with this right now." Mycerra walked away.
She snagged a hand towel to dab away the beading blood. A drell pulled her out of Lenaye's company and twirled her into his arms onto a dance floor. She followed his lead clunkily. In the middle of spinning her, he tossed the bloodied towel into a garbage can. Breathless, she spun back into his arms. He caught her with a warm smile.
Her eyes locked with his.
The music changed.
He muscled her into another dance. Assassin? Likely. Hanar owned assassin, most likely. Name? She forgot.
"Namas." He answered her. "You looked distressed."
"In-laws. You know how it goes." She joked.
A picture snapped of them mid twirl. Her heart clenched in fear these pictures would further harassment.
She stilled her shaking hands. "Colton."
"I know."
"A well-informed Drell. Should I be scared?" She asked semi-serious.
He purposely tripped her balance and caught her effortlessly. She clung to him regardless of the injuries their closeness presented opportunity for. "What say you?" He challenged.
"I'd be dead already." Her heart raced.
"You are correct." He confirmed.
The second dance ended. He dipped her low, his gaze lingering long enough to give her reason to believe he wanted more than a dance. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Colton." He purred.
She reminded herself she preferred women. "Likewise, Namas." She mumbled.
He bowed his head respectfully and guided her toward an exhibit she could admire alone. She tried to spot someone she recognized and socialized with. Aria entertained a crowd of individuals wanting her attention and approval. Hadrian melted under Hinder's appreciation. She expected Hinder to take him to bed that evening from the way he demurred to the psychotic bitch.
Anto and Bray mingled with the security, the only armed individuals at the charity event. Regardless, she wanted nothing to do with either. Anto purposely pissed her off. Bray put a pistol to the back of her head, and she refused to forgive him for that.
The salarian journalist worked the room like an expert. She envied the woman's ability to socialize effortlessly.
Under Hinder's spell, Hadrian forgot all about Mycerra. She sat next to a painted portrait of a vorcha gang and people watched. Vaguely aware of her picture being taken again, she ignored the photographer. A hush fell over the group and a single person stood on the second floor with a microphone.
"Thank you, one and all, for attending this momentous event." A female turian addressed the group. "We would like to end this evening with a meal to remind ourselves food and drink are more than enough to bring together an intergalactic community. Post-Reapers we must remember strength comes from the bonds we form. The proceeds from this evening will be distributed to affected asari and turian colonies."
Mycerra jolted to attention at a touch on her forearm. Hadrian put his arm around her back. She leaned into the touch, the loneliness less gaping and cavernous.
She closed her eyes and wished the evening ended without her laying hands on someone.
"Our gratitude to Aria T'Loak, the most prominent Pirate Queen of Omega." The female turian toasted.
Everyone echoed the toast.
"What happened earlier?" Hadrian whispered.
"Nothing." She lied.
"You were dancing with Toman Namas. Do you know what he's capable of?" Concern thickened Hadrian's voice. "He serves the most prominent Hanar ambassador of Kahje. Not that the Hanar will admit they're as crooked as anyone else."
She tried to smile and failed. "Don't worry about me, Hadrian. If he wanted me dead, I would be dead."
Remembering the feel of his strong arms, his lean form, not a doubt lingered in her bones about his abilities. If he wanted her dead, she'd be dead. She wouldn't fear the potential, only the real threats on the horizon. She presented no threat to Toman Namas.
"Be careful." He warned. "You never know with that sort of person."
She prevented herself from remarking about his interest in Hinder.
The late-night dinner and goodbyes eased Mycerra back into the safe space she valued more dearly than Hammy the shotgun and Hammy the dear old friend. She slipped out of the heels in the elevator of the shared apartment, the remnants of Hadrian's attempts to dig into her clammy shield left in the race car with Hadrian. Amani greeted her in the apartment with a glass of water and an offer of help to undress.
Mycerra shared the events of the evening in complete social exhaustion. She fell asleep in Amani's arms and woke swaddled in the blankets. The clock said she overslept, and Amani cooked a late breakfast. She joined Amani in the kitchen, clothed only in short-shorts and a tank top.
"Bacon smells weird." She said.
"Pyjak bacon." Amani answered. "I tired of the varren bacon."
"Never had pyjak bacon." She kissed Amani's cheek. "Do you need help?"
"No. My mother said she's leaving today. Stopped by while you slept."
Mycerra rolled her eyes.
"I wish you could get along with her." Amani pined. "But I understand."
Holding back on the criticism heavily tread over, Mycerra nodded along.
"Promise me we'll try again when she next visits."
"I promise to make the effort."
"With more energy."
Mycerra faced Amani. "I promise, Amani, to try again when she next visits." The energy slipped out of her. "Because I love you and I want Tia to have a full-fledged family."
Amani smiled and returned to finishing breakfast.
The charity event haunted Mycerra days after. The videos and pictures blasted across Omega's portion of the extranet. Overnight, it seemed, Mycerra became famous. Her name connected to Hadrian Yanus, Aria T'Loak, Lenaye Ysett, and Toman Namas. Further research in Toman Namas yielded nothing, and for certain individuals, who the name struck a chord, refused to elaborate.
Amani investigated the name and yielded no results as well.
With the seventh month turning into the eighth month, the fame increased. Word about Nihlus Kryik marrying her sister finally spread around Omega. The mixture of fame and concern swirled in Mycerra's insular group of acquaintances.
They joked over cards that Mycerra needed to create trading cards for every well-known acquaintance.
"You say that now, Hadrian, but you'll be the first card I make." She tossed in the last of her chips.
Her omni tool pinged, the call attempting to connect.
She accepted the connection.
"Please tell me you're on Omega." Pacyra demanded.
The table fell silent. Mycerra gestured for them to pass out the cards and proceed as normal. Amani napped on Brom's large couch. Hadar, Brom, Mannis, and Hadrian leaned in to listen intently.
"Where else would I be?" Mycerra asked in mild confusion. Her mind tried to work out why her sister worried about her relocating off the center of hell.
The static lessened. "That's good. Stay put."
"Why?" She asked. Brom placed a non-alcoholic drink in front of her. "What's going on?"
A dramatic pause worried everyone in the apartment.
"We're traveling to Omega on official business. It concerns Amani. We won't arrive for another four days. A justicar wants to mind meld with her as part of an old investigation."
Mycerra leaned back slowly. All heads turned to Amani. "Does it have to do with Illium?" She asked softly.
"How'd you-right, right. She'd have told you about it. We'll be there in four days. Be on your best behavior and cooperate with the investigation." Pacyra instructed. "Javik wanted to ask you questions when we land."
"Javik the 50,000-year-old prothean?" Her voice lifted in surprise.
"There's only one Javik the records are aware of." Pacyra stated dully.
Mycerra realized she heard the same doubt repeatedly over the course of the last year. Pacyra disconnected shortly after, and silence choked the apartment for several more minutes. "I should wake her up and take her home…I was losing anyway. Best of luck to you, Mannis. Clean them out." She pat the mechanic on the shoulder and padded softly to the couch to wake up Amani.
She handed the unwelcome news to Amani just before they crawled into bed together. Amani tried to pass off the news off as minor. Nonetheless, Mycerra hovered the next several days and reminded Aria to mind personal space before and after. Their circle of contacts maintained a safe distance until the entire affair settled. The tension in the apartment raised until Mycerra purposefully broke it by movie night and kinky fun times.
The threat on the horizon loomed menacingly.
Not even the reapers could save them from the trouble at hand.