"Urban Downunder" from Cyberpunk 2077
L. The Machiavellian Queen
(Aria T'Loak)
Not that long ago, I used to believe people had no inherent value.
Not unless I knew them personally. Not unless they proved themselves to me.
I ran roughshod over them until they did. And even then, I still required my Scarborough Fair.
None of it was fair. But these were the lies I'd believed. These were the so-called principles I'd lived by:
If someone was beautiful, then their beauty was their only worth. If someone was powerful, their power was their only worth. If someone was an idiot, they were worth even less than the flesh on their bones for some cannibal to have a good time with. I once believed these things, completely. Because time and time again, people had done nothing but remind me how utterly useless they were. Disappointing me. Pissing me off. Breaking my heart. Betraying me for no good reason other than their own fucking gain, then wondering why the hell I wanted them dead. No one should have to pretend those people had value—this I still believed. No one should have to live their lives appeasing their parents to keep a roof over their head; their boss to keep living to work, just to survive; their supposed significant other whose only skill was hurting them—that much closer. All of this, I continued to believe.
We should all have the freedom to live freely.
No boots over our necks.
No excessive rules keeping us down. No corrupt systems or corporate overlords brainwashing us.
And no ethics or morals bending us into mere pretenders, acting like we gave a damn about others.
So I used the people around me…for the most part. I used my agents, my merc groups, my club employees. And when they repeated the cycle I was used to, I made an example out of them. Creatures of habit, every last one. All because I had no fucking value, either. It was why I once believed the things I did. Why I used to be so quick to judge, quick to anger. I still was, in a sense. Just not in the same ways.
I only trusted myself because I could only see myself. Only I could get the job done because I only knew myself.
Aside from my daughter, and my rule over Omega…I'd had nothing before.
Until I met someone. Someone I had known about for years beforehand: from Torfan, from her N7 training. Someone who had caught my eye, making me wonder. She made me reconsider my stance—if people really had no value. If everyone was worthless, then so, too, was my daughter. If every single person in the galaxy was useless, then so was this human Spectre. This Alliance hero. This honorable, capable, radiant woman who had brought infinite colors into my life, painting over my black-and-white thinking with pure enlightenment.
With this new sight of mine, my perspective changed.
She helped me see how misguided I had become. A slave to my own shortcomings. Especially my ego.
She made me understand my own…flaws. How these imperfections of mine could've led to my downfall.
Because even now, sitting on my couch, my so-called throne at Afterlife, I could continue thinking things through, with my clarity. I owned this club. I owned this music blasting everywhere, entertaining my paid guests exactly as they pleased. I owned the dancers doing their thing on the walls nearby; I owned the ones strutting on the catwalk behind me, their bodies hanging from those poles. I owned every single person in here, drinking their problems away like I used to do centuries ago. I owned this station. I owned everyone walking around freely outside. I owned the streets I had recently cleaned up, now mostly free from any homeless wanderers wasting away. I owned the mercs parading around with impunity—the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack—all of whom were acceptably loyal to me these days.
Omega had only improved insofar as I had improved myself.
Omega only thrived as much as I conquered my own failures.
Omega was only as strong as I was. I certainly realized I'd only compensated for my weaknesses before.
Along with my old beliefs—that everyone was useless—I used to be paranoid. Extremely paranoid.
Forever looking over my shoulder. Distrusting every single person around me. Fighting with shadows. So my enemies once used this to their advantage. This was how they'd nearly sunk me with the plague, months ago. They'd gotten my attention with something else—Archangel causing problems—only to bring the Collectors in, right under my nose, and letting them spread that disease all across the station.
That plague would have been the death of me, literally or otherwise, if Shepard hadn't shown up.
And the second I saw her, years after she'd already transfixed me…I'd found myself paranoid. As a habit, I hadn't trusted her. As my weakness, I'd tried to project strength in front of her, when I knew my whole world was about to fall apart. I knew then that I was done, and she was the only one who could help me.
Then she had the audacity to do her job and leave right afterward.
No demands, no holding the incident over my head as leverage. No request for a thank you. Nothing.
Shepard didn't give a damn about me.
I didn't matter. I was no one special. Not in any obvious ways. Not until her tactical cloak surprise…
After so many years of people kissing my ass—even when they intended on stabbing me in the back anyway—that simple treatment from her shocked me back to reality. Just like that, she put me in check.
Shepard snapped me out of my paranoia. She freed me from those shackles. She changed my mind, changed my views, changed my perspective. She made me see what my paranoia truly was. My need to rule Omega with an iron fist was just—my tacit acknowledgement of what I was. That I was no one.
This sad reality of mine made me see a lot about myself. Maybe too much. But it was necessary. So very necessary. I couldn't keep running away from the truth. For my own sake, for Liselle's sake, I couldn't.
Freed from the shackles of my paranoia, I'd replaced those chains with these new ones.
I had already turned Shepard off with my ego. And now I couldn't have her at all. I couldn't do anything.
I could do nothing but sit on my couch, absorbing Afterlife's atmosphere; waiting on my business for the day. And thinking about her. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Wanting her, needing her. I'd had so much time to think and want and need lately. I hardly needed to eat or sleep these days. My eating and sleep schedule had become unpredictable, giving me this excess time to think and think. And I knew it was because of Shepard, from her implants affecting me intermittently. Ever since Eden Prime about a week ago, I'd found my explanation for all of this extra time. This extra thinking of mine. Trying to change.
We are who we are. People don't change.
One day, I'd show Shepard how wrong she was. She could be right about everything else. Just not this.
Interrupting my thoughts, Bray walked up the nearby steps, approaching me.
He smelled of cigarettes.
The second I turned my nose up, he stepped back. With those four eyes of his, I couldn't know where to look, where to find any possible remorse in his face. Batarians apparently used this to their advantage.
"Just got word," grunted Bray. "Liselle's ship will be here soon. After your scheduled meeting, that is."
"After the meeting, good," I approved. "I don't want her involved in anything. I'll go do what I need to do, then meet up with her at the docks. There's still a bit of time left. Have you heard anything else about my other visitor? Or at least my former visitor. Nyreen hasn't shown her face for a while now."
"Nothing on my end. Far as I know, she's sticking to Talon territory, over at their main outpost."
"Hmm, interesting."
Nyreen seemed to only come around whenever Shepard was in town. Was she territorial? Too bad. Besides, she had no right to be, but I did find it amusing. To this day, my ex remained wholly predictable.
Still, I didn't want Nyreen at my club anyway. Especially not today. Not while Liselle was on her way to see me. She and I had agreed to meet up in-person every few weeks or so. Whenever she could find time off from her duties as a commando, Liselle would come home to me on Omega, or I would go visit her on Thessia. No matter what else I had on my agenda, I needed to make time for her. Just for her. My only daughter. After our many…disagreements with one another in the past, this was my promise to her.
So I had to deal with this meeting before she arrived.
I didn't want my daughter anywhere near this mess. This ongoing mess with Shepard's girlfriend—with Lawson's father putting his nose where it didn't belong. His not-Cerberus people had helped me get control of the station before, after Shepard and Mordin cured the plague. But they still hadn't left. They continued scoping out around everywhere, growing bolder by the day. They expanded their search and their territory all the same, walking around as if they owned Omega themselves—or with the expectation that they soon would own the station. I couldn't know for sure, since Mr. Lawson himself had actually gotten in contact with me. He knew I wasn't happy with his not-Cerberus agents sniffing around my station. He tried to appease me, reassuring that his people only wanted to keep helping out.
Maybe if I'd had my old mindset, I would have accepted Henry Lawson's help. Maybe if I was paranoid over losing Omega again—completely—I would have given his not-Cerberus people more freedom. And maybe I would have accepted aid from Cerberus directly. If I was desperate enough to stay in power.
For now, I'd scheduled this meeting with Mr. Lawson. Just to figure out his angle; what he really wanted.
I had called on his bluff by telling him to come to Omega. And he'd agreed to show his face. Supposedly.
Confirming my suspicions, Bray informed me: "Looks like Mr. Lawson isn't showing up. He still wants to have the meeting with his people. Same place at the mines. They'll be there while he joins on a vid call."
"That's perfectly fine," I allowed. "This tells me everything I need to know about him. I'll handle it."
"No backup? I know you promised not to bring any. Figured we could sneak around the long way."
"No, that won't be necessary. Unlike him, I'm staying true to my word. I can take care of this myself."
Admittedly confused, Bray only watched me leave. I knew he wanted to help. To a certain extent, I appreciated his laid-back eagerness, how dedicated he was to me. Dedicated, but not over-the-top.
On my way out, I checked in with Grizz, one of my turian guards standing watch nearby.
His identity as a turian had at last come in handy. At least for the next couple of days or so.
"Aria," he greeted, knowing what this was about.
"I'm hoping for good news, Grizz," I told him. "Will your people be ready in time? Shepard and her team should be reaching Palaven quite soon. I need eyes on them ASAP. I'm expecting you to pull through."
"Yes, Boss. I'll have your extra eyes ready after the meeting."
"That's what I like to hear. I'll be in touch with you soon enough. Carry on."
Grizz kept his eyes to me as I left. Just as the rest of my people did. Just as everyone did.
I escaped those hundreds, thousands of eyes, and slipped into my secret pathways. My private tunnels. I had my peace and quiet, walking down these empty alleys and corridors. Clean enough for my purposes, as no one else ever went through here. Except Nyreen. I regretted showing her these paths years ago.
Thinking in this dark, I found my resolve for the meeting.
My resolve, my grudges from just a couple of years ago. How Cerberus had nearly gotten my daughter killed, right here on Omega, after Liselle had taken sympathy on some human. Some human I hadn't known was with Cerberus at the time. Paul Grayson, a red sand addict. Liselle had called herself liking this junkie. So she'd started dating him. Not because she'd actually liked him. But because he gave her attention, and this was her way of getting back at me at the time—over our many disagreements. Whether I liked it or not, my fucking failures as a parent had driven Liselle straight into that lunatic's arms. And even though I'd hated her for humiliating me like that, I'd kept a much closer watch over her.
One day, some assassin slipped into my loft raised above Afterlife. Into my home. Right where Liselle was, in her room with Grayson, against my wishes. Again, just to piss me off. The second I found out, I ran home upstairs, hell-bent on throwing Grayson out the window myself. But when I'd arrived, I found an unexpected visitor. This assassin, Kai Leng, was about to slit Liselle's throat. Luckily, I got to him first. I'd disabled his damn biotic implants, paralyzing him. And then I'd crushed his throat, his neck with my bare hands.
Grayson had taken advantage of the confusion, running off while I'd killed that assassin. But it couldn't be helped. Liselle had been completely distraught. She'd felt betrayed by him. We'd managed to talk things through, her and I. She'd agreed to stop talking to Grayson; to stop going after these losers I didn't approve of, just to make me angry. As far as I knew, Grayson had disappeared anyway. He'd had no intentions of sticking around. But I'd been able to follow his trail. Enough to learn what I needed.
It took some digging, but I discovered that Grayson and Kai Leng worked for Cerberus.
No doubt the Illusive Man wasn't pleased with me. That assassin had been one of his top agents.
I had chosen not to mention any of it to Shepard myself. I didn't need her worrying about this shit.
But now that I'd successfully called Mr. Lawson's bluff, I had my confirmation. He and the Illusive Man meant to entrap me. They'd tried to butter me up; get me to let my guard down. This was about Cerberus. This was about Grayson, and especially about Kai Leng. This was about payback. And now, thanks to my enlightenment, I knew better than to fall for it. They presumed to know too much of me.
Cerberus would pay for what they almost did to my daughter.
They thought I'd show up to this meeting alone, unarmed with no backup, like I was vulnerable. This was my chance to catch them off-guard. This was my chance to make them pay for so much more. For whatever the fuck they planned on doing to Shepard, eventually, now that she was in bed with Lawson like this. At the same time, I trusted Shepard not to fall for anything. She was smart enough to do the right thing when it mattered. She knew how to protect herself. Yet I still wanted to protect her in my own ways. In secret.
I needed to watch over Shepard's blind spots.
Because whether she knew it or not, she did the same for me. Just in making me think. Making me feel.
Like always, I intended on repaying my debts to her. As promised.
Nestled up at the top of Omega's crown, the mines plodded on in productivity.
Raised high, far, and wide, these catwalks kept me above the workings all around. This wide open, lightless space—only sections and sections of working stations, pieces of ore and shipments of eezo. I walked past it all, taking careful note of this production. Machines running in working order. Not too light, not too hard. No danger of burning out any time soon. And the workers around, they certainly noticed my notice, treating me as their de-facto supervisor taking a look around. They worked harder for me, knowing I spotted every little thing they did. No slacking off. I was no miner myself, but I knew how to make the most of what Omega had. I had at least some knowledge of everything across my station.
Aside from those workers, I spotted no one else around. On purpose. Treading along these narrow walkways, I felt those eyes on me. From where I was, Mr. Lawson's not-Cerberus operatives had the perfect bird's eye view, all to check for any reinforcements of mine. They found none. And I expected them to think they had the upper-hand. Of course, I would prove them wrong in the end. I always did.
Up one of the elevators, I arrived at the meeting's location. Not particularly discreet—these agents stood around a vid comm area, having waited for me to get here. Dressed up in their unmarked sets of armor, non-descript, they appeared normal. Appearances weren't everything. I maintained my own anyway.
One of them turned on the comms. Henry Lawson's holographic form showed up. Graying hair. Receding hairline. Slightly balding. Mild wrinkles. Not nearly as handsome as I thought he'd be. I wasn't sure why I expected to find a resemblance between him and his daughter. Shepard's girlfriend looked nothing like him. Then again, I remembered he'd…created her. Genetically modified her for very specific reasons.
The nice suit he had on didn't fool me, either.
Just another corporate overlord who thought his riches made him someone.
"Aria," sounded Henry's voice, so superior. "I'm relieved you're here. I must apologize for the change of plans. I wasn't able to leave Earth in time to meet with you in-person. I'm sure you understand."
"Certainly," I lied. "Think nothing of it. Now what is it you wanted to discuss?"
"First, I wished to remind you: several weeks ago, my agents were quite generous. We helped to ensure all mercenary groups on Omega fell back in line. We disrupted their operations. Cut into their profits. We all but bribed them to return to your command. And they did so willingly. Together, we all reestablished order on the station. You couldn't have done this without us. I remain concerned that, should your rule fall into peril in the future, you will undoubtedly require our assistance again."
"Yes, I see why you're concerned. Tell me what you're thinking, then."
Henry locked up any subtle signs of his own lying—"I propose allowing Cerberus to aid you. With the Illusive Man's blessing, we can move in with our additional teams. We would help bolster your personal armies. All to ensure you retain control of Omega, should anything else happen in the future. You're aware of the Reapers, their imminent arrival in the future. I can promise that Cerberus would help defend your station from their attack. We simply can't allow the capital of the Terminus Systems to fall."
"That does sound like a good idea," I humored. And Henry smiled in a way he shouldn't have. "But before I agree to go along with this, I need some more information. Just one little favor in return."
"I suppose one tiny favor couldn't hurt. What information do you need?"
"There's something that's been bothering me. At least for the past couple of years. I'm not sure if you've heard, but someone went after my daughter. An assassin. I managed to kill him on my own, but I was never able to verify his identity, who he was with. I couldn't find out who ordered the hit, either. I'd like you to find out these specific details for me."
Henry's eyes darted from side to side. Nerves flaring.
He hadn't expected this from me.
And he almost stammered—"An…assassin, you say? One who nearly killed your daughter?"
I never said he nearly killed her.
"That's right," I confirmed. "If you can get me an ID on the bastard, I'll let Cerberus in to help me out."
Henry tried to lie even more, "I-I'm familiar with this assassin. We haven't been able to turn up any evidence of him. I'm sorry. That's all I know."
I pretended to sound disappointed: "I see. Well, that's too bad. It's interesting you knew that off the top of your head. It makes me wonder what else you know. What else you're not telling me. Then again, maybe I can figure it out for myself. Perhaps you've heard that I'm paranoid. I like to do my research."
Uneasy now, his not-Cerberus agents stepped back and away. Rattled already by this confrontation.
Henry himself didn't even know what to say to me.
This little game of ours was over.
"Let me be clear," I warned him. "I know what else you're scheming out there. Buttering up your daughter, getting her to trust you again. To control her. I can tell you right now—Shepard won't fall for whatever it is you're trying to do. Her girlfriend may be desperate enough to have you back in her life. She might fall for your schemes, and the Illusive Man's. Don't you dare make the mistake of thinking I'm some pawn like your daughter is. In the end, you and your boss will pay for what you're doing to her."
Henry put on his best bravado: "Aria…you ought to stop this. Now."
"I don't think so, Mr. Lawson. You should know not to mess with me. I'm showing you exactly why."
"The feeling is mutual," he scorned. "But the difference is, I know your weaknesses. You don't know mine. Take this any further and I'll find a way to end your relationship with Commander Shepard; nip it in the bud by any means necessary. I don't appreciate you throwing yourself at my daughter's partner."
I laughed at his fucking audacity.
Rather twisted, a bit deranged, I sounded; and so Henry's agents stepped away from me again. Frantic, they looked around. Checking to make absolutely certain I had no backup with me. So damn pointless.
"Please—don't delude yourself! You can't control me. You want to talk blackmail? Sure, let's go there."
"This isn't blackmail," tried Henry, sweating now through the vid. "I'm merely stating a fact! I have the logs the Illusive Man sent me. How you interacted with Shepard aboard the Normandy before Eden Prime. The way you brazenly lusted after the commander behind her back. It's painfully obvious!"
"Logs, you say? That sounds perfect. Let's talk some more about logs, my dear Henry. Because I have some logs of my own. Or rather, a few records of the ones you own. I know your daughter used to be a dominatrix back in the day. She would film some of her scenes with her clients. Does this ring a bell?"
"Aria, you—I haven't the faintest idea what you're…"
His pathetic denials.
Absolutely disgusting.
I knew exactly who he was. What he was.
And he was lucky he wasn't here in-person. Otherwise—
"Oh, yes you do," I goaded. "I'm aware a few of her clients sent those vids to you. And that you paid these clients to send them along. You requested the vids. Specifically. I know you get off to them. Watching your daughter fuck other people—no, dominate them. You get off to her. Knowing you made her; deluding yourself into believing she belongs to you. That she's your property. Isn't that right?"
He couldn't even muster a response.
Horrified, Henry's not-Cerberus agents looked to one another. They wanted to bail. I knew they did.
"After all, that's why you created her in the first place. You wanted the perfect woman all to yourself. No woman in the right mind would actually go for you. You have your riches, your legacy to leave behind. And yet the prospect of dying, old and alone, terrifies you to no end. So that's what she's for. Your own daughter. You tried to groom her—I know you did. Taking advantage of how naïve she was…and still is. If you could just get her to want you, make her think it's perfectly fine, then you'd be golden. How many times a day do you think about it, hm? Did you ever try to come onto her? Sneak into her room when she was a little girl, or a teenager? Do you still fantasize about raping her? Putting her in her place—?"
Enraged and defeated, Henry cut all communications.
His agents just stared at where that hologram had been. Terrified, mortified. Absolutely disgusted.
As they should have been.
"All of you," I said, snapping their attention to me. "Do whatever you want from here on out. Keep working for him or don't—it doesn't matter to me. Just get the hell off my station and don't come back."
They didn't need me to tell them twice.
Every single one of them ran off. Back down the elevator, down the walkways. From this vantage point, I watched as they made their way to the docking area. I expected them to heed my advice. And I expected Cerberus to stay the fuck away from Omega from now on. That revolting little man couldn't get anywhere near me. The Illusive Man had nothing else on me, either. We were done. No more of this.
Not too far from the docks, I arrived at my own private area. A little hiding spot of mine. Just a nice, clean balcony overlooking Omega's skyline. I sat on this bench, raised above the sights below, the rest of Omega at work and at pleasure down there. Relaxing while I waited for Liselle's transport to get here, I had this time to myself. And I felt so at ease. I felt at home, like I belonged. Omega was the only place that would always welcome me, no matter what. Regardless of whatever happened in this galaxy, I could count on my station. I could always come back home to this chaos, this freedom under my rule.
After that last meeting, I found that my One Rule on Omega still applied.
Cerberus should have never fucked with me.
But I couldn't trust that the Illusive Man would fully learn his lesson. I considered upgrading Omega's outer defenses. Just in case. The actual station itself—the population—was much better off these days. It was no use unless I could protect them from every type of invader. Cerberus and the Reapers, too.
Beyond this peace, I felt the difference. I felt the lack.
Something was missing.
Every time I stared out to this ethereal light of the skyline, I remembered.
I thought of her.
I could never stop myself from seeing the metaphors. Seeing her in this light. In every light throughout the galaxy. And it unnerved me, every fucking time. I remembered the feeling of Shepard's arms around me—how surprisingly protective she was. Ever since then, I'd felt like this. Heart palpitating. Short of breath. This fluttering feeling in my chest, so damn ridiculous. I felt it all the time. It distracted the hell out of me, but I couldn't keep fighting it anymore. I'd had to learn to live with it. No other options.
With that in mind, I contacted Grizz via omni-tool.
He had his contacts on Palaven, specifically to help me keep an eye on Shepard and her team. The contacts were all military officers. Police. A few random civilians. Finding the right live feed, I tuned in to these sights. These sights of the turian homeworld I hadn't seen in quite some time. Not in years.
I still remembered these sights plain as day. This silver world of fortresses and fire. All from Cipritine, the Imperial Capital of Palaven, and good old Garrus Vakarian's hometown. Palaven's weak magnetic field made for a poor shield against its sun's rays. In turn, it seemed like everything on the planet had formed their own metal carapaces in defense. Silvers everywhere. Fortifications as the necessary protections from the harsh sun, each as historic monuments of Palaven's martial society. Compared to Thessia, the turian homeworld looked and felt incredibly hard and durable. Just like the turian military. Imperialistic.
I could never understand why the turians had such a hard-on, literally, for public service. That whole ideology: the needs of the many over the individual. Honor and duty. It made the turians terrible entrepreneurs, since they were just that bad at looking out for their own interests. So they'd had to enlist the volus as a client race to help stimulate their economy, to great effect over the years. But their imperialistic honor made it so the military encapsulated their society. Luckily for me, the troops and police and officers were stationed everywhere. They remained close enough for my liking—all to capture the landing of a certain Normandy frigate, arriving to the silver planet in the middle of the day. This feed unfortunately wasn't of the best quality, but it would have to do for the time being.
When I'd visited Palaven myself, I refused to go out during the daytime. Only at night. I hated having to wear full armor for any damn reason. Nightfall allowed more normal freedoms. I preferred the moonlight anyway.
Completely foreign to me, Shepard's team exited the ship while wearing full armor and helmets.
I spotted that tall, tall figure in her N7 armor. Holding hands with her girlfriend in Cerberus colors.
And I watched her the whole time.
I kept my eyes on her, those N7 designations of hers. Everything about her.
I wasn't sure how or why…but something seemed a little off. Did Shepard have something pressing on her mind today? Was she upset for some reason? I almost thought I was just seeing things. I had every reason to doubt myself—Lawson next to her was quite busy speaking with someone else next to her. Maybe Jack, since she was so short, and Zaeed, since I recognized that ridiculous gait of his. Meanwhile, Shepard kept to herself. She didn't appear to interact with them, or with anyone else for that matter.
Back on Eden Prime the other day, I couldn't get an accurate read on her. Shepard prided herself on that impenetrable persona of hers. For good reason. I hadn't been able to spot anything obvious, anything wrong. But I'd had a prickling feeling that all wasn't well on her end—before, during, and after the mission. As I hadn't spent much time in her company yet, I figured maybe this was normal. Maybe this was just her way of staying focused for the mission. Maintaining appearances for her team. But seeing her like this now—presumably while on shore leave—made me reconsider those assumptions of mine.
Seeing her like this…it made my chest clench. Tightening in this specific agony. Hurting for her.
Mindful of Shepard's disquieting mood, I listened in as Garrus gave everyone a history lesson:
"Most of us have these colored marks over our faces for a reason," he explained. "It's a holdover from our Unification Wars, years back. Our homeworld fought against a bunch of our isolated, xenophobic colonies. The colors signify someone's colony and loyalties. A turian who doesn't have any marks over their face—well, people tend not to trust them. Sometimes they get called 'barefaced' as an insult."
"Huh, no wonder," mentioned Jack. "I just thought you guys painted your faces for fun. Had no idea it was this huge culture thing. All these military people around, too. You turians sure love your damn wars."
The Prothean—named Javik, apparently—chimed in, "They have evolved significantly from centuries before. In my cycle, the turians were just learning of their penchant for war and battle. I have come to respect your people, Vakarian. Palaven is a world of tradition and honor. For the ruthless and the war-minded. When conflict is unavoidable, you practice 'total war' to annihilate your enemy, all to prevent fighting the same foes twice. This is similar to how the Prothean Empire engaged in non-Reaper wars."
Garrus sounded surprised, "Oh—well, thanks, Javik. If my people were like yours, I'll have to take that as a compliment. I think. Did I…ever mention I'm not really a good turian? Not one for the whole tradition and honor thing. I tend to do my own thing. Like serving under a human captain on a team full of aliens."
Vaguely still listening to the back and forth, I kept my eye on Shepard, despite the grainy vid quality.
She stared up at the tall, structured, asymmetrical skyscrapers of silver they passed by. Like something out of a conceptual art show. Those dramatic, sharply-angled structures had always fascinated me as well. I was pleased to see Shepard appreciated them as much as I did. She was the only one who stared up in awe: up at the buildings, up at the many skycars whirring past. No one else really took in the sights.
Seeing her curiosities reminded me of my own, from years ago.
Nyreen had taken me to Palaven, to this same city of Cipritine years ago. All for some romantic getaway. Though it hadn't been all that romantic. Or much of a getaway for that matter. The two of us had been arguing at the time. Non-stop. This vacation was supposed to bring us back together. But all it ended up doing was making things worse. We'd spent most of the trip apart. And I'd expected to be angry at Nyreen for bothering with this shit; for guilt-tripping me over not wanting to be around her. That wasn't what happened. The whole time…I dealt with something I could only describe as a profound sadness.
As my chest tightened even more, I wondered if Shepard had caught the same sadness I'd left behind.
She and her team arrived to some fancy hotel called the Kingsglaive, raised from the earth as a magnificent titan of structured silver.
But as soon as they went inside, I lost eyes on them.
I called Grizz immediately.
"Aria, I can explain—"
"Don't fucking explain a thing," I ordered. "Just tell me—can you fix the problem or not?"
"I can't get anyone inside that hotel, Boss! It's too expensive—"
Raging, I hung up on him.
Of course Shepard's unpretentious wealth would cause problems for me. She'd probably picked the Kingsglaive because of the tighter security. Not just the fancy living. But I had a backup plan of my own.
This time, I called the Citadel—straight to the asari councilor's direct line in her office.
Tevos answered in record time, "Yes, Aria. Good day. What can I do for you?"
"Tevos. Perhaps you're aware why I'm calling. Commander Shepard and her team are on Palaven."
"…I'm not at liberty to discuss the commander's specific whereabouts."
I rolled my eyes. "Drop the act. You know I'm not some fucking terrorist tracking her location. I was with her on Eden Prime, which you also know already. I'm a guest on her team. Don't make this difficult."
Tevos paused.
I hated when she did this. I knew what was coming.
"Normally, Aria, I would have no qualms carrying out your wishes. You have provided exceedingly valuable intelligence on the Terminus Systems for the Council. Asari High Command also has you to thank for providing reports on escaped criminals on Omega, both from Thessia and our many colonies. But Commander Shepard's safety is a matter of galactic security. Her business is restricted to those with Tentron-level clearance only. Need I remind you, this level of security clearance is strictly for—"
Irate, I interjected, "It's strictly for the Council, Asari High Command, and your top-level aides—I know!"
Despite my efforts, Tevos heard the rare emotion in my voice.
She made me wait again.
She listened to this uneven raggedness to my breathing. My impatience. My fucking pain.
"Let's not allow this to devolve into threats and strong-arming. Tell me what this is really about."
"What the hell do you think this is about?!"
"Aria, please. I need your honesty. If I'm going to make this exception, then you must explain yourself."
"Damnit, Tevos," I raged. "I'm not with Shepard right now. I need eyes on her! I need to know where she is at all times. I don't trust Cerberus. I don't trust the people around her! I keep expecting the Illusive Man to pull something stupid any day now. I keep imagining Shepard's girlfriend stabbing her in the back! Every second that passes with her gone like this, it's less fucking control I have! It's pissing me off!"
Even though the truth killed me, Tevos understood. "You are afraid of losing her, then. Is that it?"
I closed my eyes. The memory of Shepard's gorgeous face burned over my eyelids. Tempering me.
"…I can't lose her. Not now. Not ever."
That calm, collected voice of hers nearly stabbed me—"Are you in love with Commander Shepard?"
Like bracing myself for a roller coaster, I grit my teeth.
I set my jaw.
And I sat completely still in my seat. Frozen still while this ride took me up and down and around. This ride of my emotions, unstable and uneven, while the asari councilor kept listening to me. She listened to my silence. She listened to my struggles, how hard I fought to constrict them. But these damned feelings of mine kept sending me for a loop, over and over again. So pleasant and potent and painful, pulling at the boundaries of my chest. Expanding everything I'd ever felt and known before. Just…enlightening.
Wordless, Tevos typed at the computer over her desk.
I heard the sounds of her keystrokes. I listened to her focus. Her determination, her decision for me.
Then I received an email from her, with Tevos' official explanation. She had extended this Tentron-level security clearance to me. But only with matters concerning Commander Shepard and the Normandy.
I expected a trade-off somehow. The asari councilor's permissions never came cheap.
Just like that, Tevos linked my omni-tool with a new live feed.
Far superior to Grizz's bootleg camera access, I saw the interior of the Kingsglaive with the utmost clarity. Almost as if I was there myself, in-person, basking in the turians' impressive silver interior and experimental décor. In the midst of the hotel's rotunda, I found Shepard in her N7 armor. I watched the gallantry of her movements, almost like walking next to her. Almost like being around her all over again, I felt the start of this calm. My frazzled nerves sat down and settled. My breaths evened out, quieting. I felt this crease of my brows loosen and lighten. And my heartbeats fell to normal—normal for what they always were, whenever I observed Shepard like this. But this was enough. It was more than enough.
Tevos informed me: "I've connected you with the Council's own VI. This VI is designed to connect with any cameras within the commander's immediate area. Unbeknownst to the Illusive Man, this also includes the surveillance aboard the Normandy. Councilor Anderson came up with the idea. And though we don't use the VI ourselves, it should prove useful in emergencies. Were we to somehow lose Commander Shepard, this VI would allow us to find her again. You may use it at your convenience."
Fucking hell. I could keep watch on Shepard aboard her ship? This sounded…exceedingly generous.
I checked the available cameras for myself. Every single area of the Normandy was available for me to view. The bridge, the CIC, the armory, the lab, the entirety of the crew deck, including everyone's rooms and offices—even Lawson's bedroom—the whole engineering deck, the cargo hold, and their shuttle.
Everything except the bathrooms, and Shepard's private cabin, I now had full access to view at any time.
Seriously, this almost seemed too good to be true.
Knowing better, I strained myself to say, "Thank you, Councilor."
Tevos seemed to smile on her end. "You're welcome, Aria. Your gratitude is most appreciated."
I observed as Shepard and her team went up an elevator, probably up to their hotel rooms. And I found myself with a smile of my own. Grumpy and aloof, Shepard had her arms folded. She stood in a corner of the packed elevator; her teammates practically bounced around with excitement in comparison, talking about the fun times they wanted to share on Palaven together. Shepard's annoyance mirrored the same I would've had, were I stuck in her position. But she put up with it for everyone's sake. I liked that a lot.
My babe was such a closeted sweetheart.
Shepard was similar to me, but just different enough to challenge me. She truly broadened my horizons.
"Now what do you want from me in return? You didn't just do this out of the kindness of your heart."
"I still need to think on this," said Tevos, surprising me. "If it's all right with you, we can discuss the matter when you next visit the Citadel. I'm of the mind to recruit you for a more sensitive matter. One involving the commander's safety. I believe we can come to an appropriate arrangement together."
"Do you plan on asking me to look after her?"
"Officially, yes. You wouldn't need to report to me. This would simply be for our own peace of mind."
I expected more. "That doesn't sound too bad, actually. What are you holding back?"
"Again, I'll need to consider the details. Whenever you decide to stop by the Citadel, I'll have everything figured out. We'll meet in my office for a conversation. Suffice to say, the other councilors share my concerns and yours about Cerberus, the Illusive Man. Asari High Command also has grave concerns. Having you as a guest on Commander Shepard's team should prove invaluable in the long-run."
"Works for me," I accepted. "I'll let you know when I have time to visit. Maybe next month or so."
"I understand, Aria," she allowed. "That will give me time to finalize the details. Thank you. As a final note, we still have that Cerberus 'VIP' in custody. His trial should be over once you arrive to the Citadel. I'm sure you can assume what we've learned about Cerberus from his confessions. Nonetheless, I expect this judge to sentence him with the death penalty. We will leave him for you to handle—unofficially."
This Cerberus VIP—the man who ordered the hit on Liselle way back when.
"That sounds wonderful," I praised. "I'm looking forward to getting my revenge."
"Of course. Everything will be ready for you. Is there anything else I can help with?"
I didn't want to have to say this: "Tevos, you've been oddly flexible today. Do you feel sorry for me?"
"Not at all," she insisted, genuine. "I suspected your feelings for the commander long ago. However subtle, obscure. It simply helps me to have confirmation. As always, this talk will stay between us."
"And just how the hell did you suspect this about me? It's not something I choose to advertise!"
Tevos knew me better than that.
"Aria, you and I had our trysts together. Years ago, when I met my bondmate, I explained to you we could continue no longer. You grew angry with me. Exceptionally angry. And then the news about Torfan emerged. The tale of the Alliance hero: a rising star in the human military. The lone infiltrator who survived that harrowing mission on her own, sniping her way to victory. You were in my office when the news appeared on the vid screen. I'll never forget the look in your eyes. When you first saw Shepard for yourself, her scowling face on that screen, your anger with me vanished. You didn't need to say why."
…
"All the galaxy is a stage," riddled Tevos. "And we are merely players, each with our parts to play and fulfill. You have made the rare decision to place Commander Shepard's needs before your own. Something tells me your role with her will prove to be momentous. Perhaps the most pivotal of them all. Yet only time will tell. Good luck to you, Aria. And may your patience prove true. Goddess be with you."
When Tevos hung up, she left me in the empty vacuum of this eternal void.
My partners from centuries past had certainly disappointed me. And then there was Nyreen, incinerating my hatreds for love and relationships for good. So I'd moved up to fucking the most powerful asari in the galaxy after that. I'd only wanted to keep things casual between us. Favors for favors. Fond, but not in love. But Tevos had wanted more from me. Too much more. She'd known then that she wasn't the one who could fix me. No matter how hard she'd tried. The decision she'd made to run off with her now-bondmate instead, leaving me behind…it snapped something in me, then. It reminded me of all the ways Nyreen and everyone before her had ruined me. Made me hate. Made it harder for me to trust.
I had remained sexually sober ever since. With other people, anyway.
Because I knew the real truth—no one could compare to that scowling marine in her Alliance uniform.
I tuned back into the live feed. Shepard and Lawson had arrived to their hotel room some time ago. Relaxing already, setting up her private terminal on a desk, Lawson had removed her armor, having changed back to her usual skintight uniform. Shepard kept her N7 armor on, as if she intended to leave.
They spoke on about their plans for the day:
"Leaving so soon?" asked Lawson, loving and languid. "I thought we could spend some time together…"
Shepard caught her meaning, and yet—"Tali already asked to meet up with me today. You remember she's been acting strange lately. I wanted to talk things through with her. Just to make sure we don't have any other awkward encounters. We might be working together again pretty soon. Garrus will probably want to bring her along for his personal business tomorrow. I should take care of this now."
"Mmm, that sounds wise. All right. You're still on the hook for tomorrow, then. This room is too gorgeous for us not to use properly. We should take advantage of the luxury here, don't you think?"
"I feel you, babe. Don't worry about it. What else did you plan on doing?"
"Well, since you'll be out, I'll likely go visit EDI and Legion. Perhaps Thane or Jack will want to tag along with us as well. I do hope we'll have a more enjoyable, productive time once the sun goes down."
"Sounds good. Just call or message me if you need anything. I'll see you later on tonight."
Luckily for me, Shepard only gave Lawson a hug. Her armor and helmet were thankfully still in the way. I wasn't in the best state of mind to watch them kiss. Or do anything more than that. Not just yet. But I wanted to…later on. Mostly to satisfy my own curiosity. I wanted to see directly how Shepard handled another woman in bed. She had scores of women hooked on her. Myself included. So I needed to see what she was all about. I needed to bask in my delusions for a while; fantasize about her taking me.
Besides, Lawson was still pissing me off. And not really for the obvious reasons.
Like I could hear it in Shepard's voice—something was off about her. Stoicism, the depths of her tones. Whatever. I wasn't fooled. There was more going on with her, and no one could tell me otherwise.
As Shepard left the room, my view of her followed.
Out in the hallway, she left back to the elevator.
Yet as she went, this uncanny sense passed through her. Clairvoyant. Instinctual. All-knowing.
Through the eyesight of her helmet, Shepard stared right into the nearest camera. Straight at me. She sharpened her gaze, so severe, as if looking directly into my eyes. As if she knew I watched her. And if she knew, Shepard stared at me uncensored anyway. Simmering with heat—she fucking wanted me.
But then she kept on walking.
The camera angle changed.
Shepard continued with her business, continued with her day.
Somehow, I seemed to stay at the back of her mind anyway.
Letting out this exhale, I noticed the time. Liselle's transport was about to arrive at the docks. So I turned off my surveillance, for now, and left to go meet my daughter. Switching mindsets, I couldn't let Liselle see me as anything less than prepared. I didn't need her noticing and asking too many questions.
Standing at the docks, I watched my daughter's ship pull in. Soon I would see my bundled hopes and dreams walking through this docking bay. And just like every other time I'd done this, I had no idea how to feel. Liselle and I had been on this path for the past few years now. Trying to fix our relationship. Trying to get along…for the first time, really. Before Kai Leng happened, we'd never gotten along in the first place. Liselle had been frank with me, sharing her thoughts on how I'd treated her before. I'd only viewed her as a direct representation and reflection of myself. I'd expected her to make me look better by proxy. I had dumped those responsibilities over her shoulders, all to validate me. To make up for my shortcomings.
I'd fooled around with Liselle's 'other mother' strictly for the sake of having my own daughter. Having my daughter, to me, had been a way to leave behind my legacy. Liselle reminded me of my mortality.
Those reminders hadn't inspired much motherly warmth from me.
Over two centuries of treating her that way:
This could not, would not vanish after only two or three years of healing. Tepid healing. Lukewarm.
But the moment I saw her again, everything seemed right. Everything seemed like it was finally okay.
Wearing her light armor out of habit, all-black, Liselle walked over to me. This clear family resemblance between us had forever filled me with pride. Just as it did now. She was a little shorter than me, but the two of us were nearly identical in appearance. Seeing these same ice blue eyes looking back at me; seeing the exact same markings over her face, the same violet of her skin, and even this version of my ego and attitude manifesting through her… Liselle made me so emotional sometimes. At times like these. Yet I refused to show it. I would never show these feelings to anyone. Especially not in public. But the feelings stayed with me all the same, as these tender harmonies, softening me. I knew Liselle could see them in my eyes. No one else could. I refused to express anything more. And that was my problem.
Liselle stopped right in front of me.
Everyone else around went about their way. They somehow didn't notice us.
I was glad they didn't. Otherwise they would've seen this near-defeat in Liselle's face. Her disappointment in me, in the way I just…looked at her. I didn't know what to say, what to do. Just like every other time we did this, I completely blanked. Any other parent would know how to treat their own child. Anyone else would know the perfect words to say, the perfect way to behave. They would have that warmth I absolutely lacked. They would know how to express the love in their heart. Of course I felt it. Of course it was here with me. But my same old problems persisted. My same old handicaps came up, from never having witnessed positive displays of love while growing up. That lack continued to limit me.
"Hey," said Liselle, not really meeting my eyes. "So…I'm here."
I glanced around, too. "That you are."
Stubborn, more adept than me—Liselle walked into me as a hug. She held onto me like this. She held me tighter in her determination. Still trying to teach me what I'd never learned on my own. Tentative, uncertain, I returned her hold. The moment I did, I felt Liselle's smile against my shoulder. This one, small thing from her filled me with more emotions. So many more emotions I could never, ever express.
Just like always, my daughter was my anchor.
Liselle reminded me of my…humanity.
When we pulled away, I asked, "Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?"
"Yeah, I'd like that," replied Liselle. But she had her conditions: "Can we go somewhere normal this time? Not some hyper-secure place. I just want to hang out with you. I don't want to feel paranoid."
"Sure, that's fine," I allowed. "We can go to Fortune's Den. They've cleaned up their act these days."
Softly surprised, Liselle smiled again. That ice of her eyes glimmered every time she did. So easily.
Whenever I saw this light, I didn't feel like such a failure of a mother after all.
Liselle and I walked down the block to Fortune's Den. We soon arrived to the building, skipping the long line and heading right past the bouncers. Back in the day, this place used to be a seedy bar and gambling den, owned by some unsavory characters. But the owners had switched hands to a few batarians on my payroll. They'd tidied the place up; helped clean the stink out from the area. The previous owner, a volus named Olthar, and his krogan 'pet' bouncer—their heads remained mounted on the wall behind the bar. Certainly morbid, yes, but it served as a cautionary tale. The sight discouraged my enemies from ever trying to storm the place; from encroaching on my territory. The rest of the bar was perfectly normal.
As Liselle sat down with me at a table, we looked around. I spotted a group batarians playing dice in a corner. A few volus played some kind of backgammon game. A number of humans played cards while a shifty-eyed salarian dealer watched on. No quasar machines. Too easy to hack, too expensive to repair.
A waitress came over to our table, wordlessly setting a pair of mugs in front of us. I put in our order, already knowing what I wanted to eat; already knowing what Liselle wanted. Fortune's Den unfortunately didn't have the means for the automatic serving kiosks, the ones regular restaurants usually had. We didn't really have anything like that on Omega. More importantly, I noticed something about this waitress, as well as the other ones throughout the building. They no longer wore tracking devices around their ankles. Along with the new management, I'd ordered them to get rid of those policies: keeping anyone as slaves or indentured servants to work off debt. That practice had never really worked as intended—at least not on Omega. The worst scumbags would just find random charges to keep adding to their indentured servant's tab, essentially keeping them enslaved forever. No more.
Not after I'd learned more about Shepard's culture. Human history… My ignorance had astounded me.
And when the food arrived, I noticed my diminished appetite already.
Liselle noticed I didn't really want to eat. I didn't know how to explain myself to her. This was the first time I'd seen her—after meeting Shepard back then. From the first fucking day we'd met, I spotted this change about me. And then I'd started having strange, half-lucid dreams. Dreams about wandering some endless metropolis, filled with dark, brooding buildings like the ones from Shepard's hometown.
The fact remained that I couldn't eat as much as I wanted.
And Liselle took it personally. "What's wrong? You're not hungry anymore?"
Trying to placate her, I made myself eat anyway. Even though I hated this feeling. Like sending wet cement into an already-filled-and-dried landfill. Putting more and more on top of too much, too much.
On top of all that, I felt myself getting distracted.
I resisted the urge to check on Palaven. To check on Shepard. To make sure she was still all right.
"What's up with you?" asked Liselle, worried this time. "Ever since the plague hit, you've been different. Like you're off on some other planet. Did something else happen back then? Other than the usual?"
"It's possible," I obfuscated. "What makes you think I'm different, anyway?"
"I don't know. I can't put my finger on it. I've just—never seen you like this before."
"Well, would you say this is a positive change? Or a negative one."
Liselle noticed, "You're not denying it. So I'd say it's a good thing. Whatever you're doing, stick with it."
"Hmm, maybe I will," I accepted, glad that she approved.
Despite my daughter's approval, I couldn't do anything more than this. I couldn't actually explain the whole story to her. I still couldn't go through with that type of thing. Making myself that vulnerable in front of her. Showing that kind of weakness. I refused to do it. The thought absolutely mortified me.
But…this did seem like a positive change.
Not just for me, but for Liselle as well. She smiled more as we spoke. This tension in the air subsided.
Maybe this new perspective of mine would help in other ways. Bringing the two of us closer together.
If that was the case, then I'd have an easier time accepting these changes. I once scorned the idea of change, after all. I didn't like it before. I used to believe change was unreliable. That unknown, that lack of control—I just had to get used to it. I welcomed the unintended side-effects: my enlightenment, my freedom from past paranoia. And now the more frequent gifts of Liselle's joy, still tempered for the time being.
Back home at my loft above Afterlife, I entered the front door with my daughter. Faint sounds of the club's booming music reached us, as it always did. Winding down in-sync with one another, we let our automatic guards down. Those same defenses we had from being outside. Around other people. Or just out on Omega, where admittedly anything could've happened. Perfect security in and around the club downstairs; even more fortifications up here. We had nothing to worry about. We had our peace.
On the table by the door, I found a surprise. Bray had left my hand-delivered mail here. I didn't get regular mail very often. I found it odd, but I just took the letter with me, without looking at the sender yet. Instead, I looked around the loft, this entrance room. That same enflamed color scheme and styling from Afterlife reached up to my home. Same architecture. Same ambiance all around. Just…calmer, and much quieter than downstairs. Afterlife used to have several more floors and landings, leading all the way up to this area. When I took over, I'd decided that much access was a security risk. After all, it was how I'd managed my own hostile takeover from Patriarch, the previous owner I kept around as an example.
I'd made the appropriate renovations, turning this upper space into a loft. To distinguish the area some more, I'd added the extra ambiance of this violet-tinted light all around. I enjoyed the aesthetics. But I'd left a few holdovers from the previous layout: mostly the full bar nearby, working double duty as my kitchen area. The black leather furniture remained indistinguishable from the same downstairs, not to mention my special couch along my perch. And the sound system hooked up to the vid screens throughout the house: these were especially flawless. We had the full immersion, the full experience.
Tired from her trip, Liselle retreated to her bedroom in her wing of the loft. We didn't need to say anything. I understood she needed her space. She quietly slipped inside and shut the door behind her.
I went to my own bedroom in the separate wing, on the other side.
From this angle of the entrance, the first thing I saw was my adjacent bathroom. The hot tub took up most of the space in there. And it certainly looked enticing. I decided I would go relax there in a little bit. For now, I walked over to my queen-sized bed. I passed by the chaise lounge sofa I had. My nightstands at either side of my bed. One had a copy of The Prince, translated to the asari language. The other had Shepard's sexy fashion magazines—in print, as I had painstakingly acquired a few days ago. Despite knowing about her since Torfan, I remembered my aversions before. How I'd resisted actually looking into her life. Trying not to get too involved, too addicted. I had abstained for as long as I could…until I met her in-person for myself. After that, the dam broke loose. And now I remained obsessed with her.
I stared out my tall windows, overlooking the boulevard leading to Afterlife. That line of people waiting to get inside my club—never-ending as always. Business booming, credits flowing. Just the way I liked it.
Sitting down over my bed, I turned my attention to this letter.
This handwritten letter…apparently from none other than Nyreen.
She must have decided against sending me an email, knowing I wouldn't respond. I couldn't blame her.
Frowning over her persistence, I read Nyreen's decent attempt at writing in my language:
Aria,
Did I surprise you with this letter? I hope so.
I was going to pay you another visit at Afterlife. But I've decided to put it off for now. I know you're busy. I've heard word about your machinations on Palaven. You remember I'm a veteran. I still have my contacts among my old Cabals back on my homeworld. I also know Garrus has been on the hunt for Sidonis, the turian who betrayed him during his Archangel days. Sidonis knows he's a dead man walking, and he's in full-blown panic mode. And I know you have your own plants within my peoples' military, keeping an eye on Commander Shepard and her team. I wish I could say I was surprised, myself. But I'm not. Not one bit.
I remember that feeling. When you would raise hell, privately, to make sure you had eyes on me at all times. I managed to find out what you were up to. It made me feel wanted. Like that was your own special way of saying you loved me. You never told me the actual words. This was as close as I could get.
You hate loving people because it makes you vulnerable. But you hate losing them even more. So maybe you feel protective of the commander. You don't want to lose her. That's how I know it's serious.
Do you remember when I last took you to Palaven with me, years ago? It was for our romantic getaway. We had been arguing a lot, as usual. Back then, I wanted things to be different. I had hope that the two of us could work things out. I actively imagined being that other parent in your daughter's life. I was going to propose; ask you to be my bondmate, as it goes on Thessia with your people. I thought that, maybe, if I just committed myself to you completely, things could finally work out between us.
But I also recall the exact picture one night. You and I had gone to the mountains together, at the south peaks. I'll never forget that image of you. The way you stared out at those mountains while the moonlight from Menae shone down on us. There was this profound sadness about you, well past the carapace of your pride. I didn't see it that clearly at the time. Every time I think back on it, I scold myself for not spotting it sooner. I want to say you were secretly depressed. You had become a professional at masking your truest feelings with anger. You were unhappy with me; unhappy in our relationship. I should have known it then. The fact that I didn't…well, that says a lot. I must've broken your heart more, just because I didn't notice. Because I didn't know how to look. Because I was so focused on your veneer, I couldn't see your real truth. I didn't see you the same way you saw me.
I'm finding the same sort of delayed revelations these days. Up until recently, I had our hopes for us again. It was foolish of me, I know. I just figured, maybe enough time had gone by. Maybe you would be open to us trying again. When we finally talked, you told me it was too late. I believed you right away.
Not to mention, you've found the perfect woman. Meeting her in-person, you've found that perfect combination. All the romantic what-ifs to imagine, to insulate you in such warm feelings, keeping you safe. So many emotions for someone who's completely unavailable. Someone you never have to 'officially' worry about losing, because she will never belong to you in the first place. Someone you can love from afar while still keeping up appearances. Someone who will never argue with you; someone who will never truly hurt you. Someone that no one can ever hurt or take away from you, since the commander can take care of herself. Above all, most importantly, she will never let you down. She'll never try to change you.
The two of you get to be partners from a distance. The perfect distance for the perfect woman.
Realizing the extent of things now, I must admit to some sadness on my end. Sadness…and a lot of heartbreak, all over again. I brought this on myself. I accept that. I still wish you the best with Commander Shepard. I don't want you to repeat my same mistakes. To that end, I encourage you to share your feelings with her, honestly. Because I know these recent, positive changes on Omega didn't come about from you listening to me. The commander used to be an orphan on Earth's streets. As protective and maternal as you are—in your own ways—I see exactly why you've made these improvements for your people. You've finally cleansed Omega's moral bankruptcy. It's incredible.
Your protective instincts with her are powerful. They will lead you to great things, Aria. I just know it. You should keep Shepard close. Whatever that means. Keep her safe on this suicide mission and beyond. No one can ever really rip Shepard from your arms in that way. So perhaps this is all a blessing in disguise. Whatever heartache you might feel for her, over this situation, I feel it, too. I feel this pain every day, knowing that my words no longer evoke anything in you. Or maybe only hatred. As I deserve. So be it.
Loving you, always,
Nyreen
.
I set the letter down on my nightstand.
I placed it far enough away from my print magazines. Away from Shepard's beauty on those glossy covers. The pages within were my source of nightly pornography to get me off, and then some. She inspired my imagination to go wild.
I took off my clothes and went to my bathroom. Preparing my hot tub in the center, I made up my mind on how to proceed. I had no other choice, really. If I looked away from Shepard now, I'd never find my answers. I'd never satisfy my cravings. I'd never know why I felt this strongly for her; why I felt equally as stubborn about staying on this path. All for seemingly no personal gain to me. I hated doing things when there was no obvious payoff or benefit. If I didn't get anything out of it, then why bother? But with her…
With her, that whole concept went clear out the window.
Settling in the heated comfort of the water, I sighed in relaxation. I relaxed more as I opened my omni-tool. I checked back in with Shepard, picking up on her current location again. And I found her out and about in the city, still wearing her N7 armor. She roamed the town with that cute little quarian engineer.
Tali'Zorah.
Tali.
Why did it feel like I'd met her before? Like I had seen her actual face. Like I had laughed over her pouting attitude toward me.
Did I know Tali from somewhere else?
I'd felt this same sensation toward Joker, Garrus, Alenko. Lawson to some extent. Little Liara, too, even though she was supposed to be dead. I had never met her while she was still alive. I only knew her from Liselle's occasional tales. Shy, awkward, intelligent, and a pretty face. Yet I somehow knew her voice. I could've sworn I'd spoken to Liara in a board room of some kind. I remembered acting a little bitchy toward her in a recent waking dream. Like I envied her position on the board. We were all executives. And she was the VP. The Vice President who was due to return to the living somehow, someway. One of the most powerful women in that city, that world, holding the captain's purest esteem. The more time passed, the more my memories of this waking dream slipped away. Yet I could never forget that fucking envy.
To top it all off, there were my recurring dreams at night.
My dreams where I would wake up right here in my bedroom. Every time, Shepard would come in to greet me. Coming in, yes. She knew exactly how to turn me out and come inside of me, just as I craved. She satisfied me in ways I'd never imagined possible. Though if I felt more patient that night, then Shepard would take me out on a date first. Such sweeping, romantic dates all across the city, where she was so much more expressive than in real-life. Far more open with her passions for me; never holding them inside, yet still charming me all the same with her demonstrativeness. During our dates, we would have such spirited debates. Intellectual stimulation all night long. Shepard challenged me on my beliefs, spurring me to push past my rigid perceptions, to open my mind. And when she initially arrived to my loft, she would sometimes have a handsome suit on. Or another all-black outfit, especially with those leather pants of hers, golden chains zipping across her long legs. Most of the time, though, she had on her formal Alliance officer's uniform. The captain, our captain. Captain of my sleep, my sleeplessness, my insomnia; my unconscious self connecting to her own through our deepening bond. Oh captain, my captain.
How strange…