6.38pm. The shuttle had arrived to pick me up. As the shuttle car opened, I saw my manager's face leaning over to check it was me. Her name was Galirea, a member of one of the races that started seeking sanctuary at the Citadel after the destruction of the Reapers. Her look was elvish; in that she had the pointy ears. She also had six eyes though, three on each side of the face similar to a Batarian, although the eyes were much more petite as if adapted for hiding rather than looking. Her skin had a musty orange tinge with streaks of a wrinkled brown race she came from, I thought of her very wise and admired her for not seeking the pity of others for the fate of her lost race. She had told me once that her homeworld was very tropical. Sometimes their only transactions with the main layers of space was to trade spices. From what Gliarea had spoken of their fate, they had integrated with other cultures after the Reapers attacked their planet. When the war was over, they had no land of their own to return to. Eventually they sought help at the Citadel while it was being re-built and taking refugees. Although I was nonchalant around her, others seemed to mistrust her - perhaps nervousness in putting one's faith into an unknown race. Wouldn't ever be capable of doing that myself, for there was a time when Ardat-Yakshi weren't to be trusted either.
We traveled to meet the Councillor making idle chit-chat along the way, cutting across the Presidium to get to the meeting room. The Tower was only for Council meetings and an office was too personal, so my quarterly review was being held in a meeting room on the third floor of the apartment buildings. Once we arrived, my steady hand knocked on the door, not revealing the rising fear that was building inside me. It was only natural of me to wonder if there were ways in which my work could be improved, or perhaps the hiring of an Ardat-Yakshi was purely experimental, perhaps it was better for me to have stayed in the monastery. Every skeptic thought put me further on edge. Finally, the door was opened. Not by the Councillor, Councillor Irissa was already situated around the conference table with a holographic screen in the background containing the embarrassingly cheerful infographic that was used to advertise my job in the first place.
"Falere, Galirea. Please take a seat."
I obeyed quietly, making a conscious note to look the Councillor in the eye. It was about as simple as looking at a Banshee. They could kill you at any moment. In this case, destroy any progress I'd hoped to make in terms of a career. Earning my keep on the Citadel, living a normal life. That was all I'd wanted for the longest time, my dreams could be snatched from me at any moment. Tucked inside my arms was a folder containing all of the work I'd undertaken since I started including notable events that I had hosted and supported on behalf of the Councillor. If I had been more self-assuring, I would've started to rifle through these papers ready to prove my worth. Instead, I remained still as a mouse that had been caught stealing the cheese. Awaiting the Councillor to begin the meeting by offering her condolences for not being able to keep her or putting her out of her misery by confirming that she was a suitable - maybe even welcome - addition to the diplomatic services industry. Instead, she dishes out some papers to us both. Galirea's six eyes seemed to skim through the pages at the speed of light whilst my mind seemed to choke on the words 'outreach program' and 'equal opportunities' as if I couldn't fathom that I was anything but Falere. A person, just like anyone else. Just like any Turian or Asari or Salarian. Why was I special? What made me anything different to the Councillor herself?
Simple. My genetics honed me to kill. Every cry inside my veins wanted to mate, for all the wrong reasons. Many still thought that the Ardat-Yakshi were too dangerous to be integrated with alien society. Including me. Luckily, I worked in an office that kept me late and started early. Breaks were the length of a trip to a water-cooler and there were very little social occasions hosted by my colleagues. Or perhaps I just wasn't invited to them. What a sad thought. It seemed that my manager had finished reading the pages in front of her but my mind was too unhinged to focus. Instead, I mimicked satisfaction at what I was reading by nodding along and hoping that they didn't ask me any questions. It seemed to be some sort of replica of the contract I had signed within my first week. My manager spoke first, with her deep thick accent, resembling that of a female krogan or an elcor that had been kicked in his private parts.
"I can confirm, Councillor, that Falere has abided by every rule and responsibility that is expected of her. In some cases, she has exceeded expectations greatly. That report that she was asked to write about co-operative community life within Thessia actually went on to become her doctorate thesis. And I believe, Councillor, that her office manners are always polite and well-organized."
Both looked at me as if wishing me to speak. It was only when I raised my head to do so that I caught sight of a camera sat on the wall behind the Councillor, blinking away. It was possible then that this was to be used to further promote the excellent work that the Councillor was doing in helping the 'less fortunate' find sustainable work. Maybe this meant that I was fine.
"How are your co-workers treating you, Falere? Really?"
The way that this was phrased felt melded to suit a negative response. The Councillor was closing the spacing between us by leaning over her desk like a supportive ear. It was designed undoubtedly to make me feel more at ease but it had the rather negative affect of making me feel closed in. I stuttered for a moment.
"Uh, uh.. I.."
"- they've made you feel quite welcome as I understand it?" Galirea interjected, trying to save me from the pressure.
I nodded in agreement. I hadn't always been so weak when faced with authority. But I had more to prove than just any other Ardat-Yakshi. Morinth had been my sister, the most brutal and hedonistic of Ardat-Yakshi that could possibly roam the galaxy. She enslaved people, manipulated them, suckered them in and used any means necessary to squeeze as much pleasure as she could from any situation. Reap any benefit she could find. And that was when she wasn't murdering people.
After that, there wasn't much of interest said. We discussed my work routine and how I was coming with the upcoming report on Batarian relations. I confirmed that it was 75% finished, when it fact it was 100% finished and undergoing intense re-drafting stages to make it perfect. Soon after, the meeting concluded and I took a shuttle home.
8pm. I arrived home and scanned all the paperwork that I had into my terminal. Nobody really used paperwork anymore, only datapads and terminals. However, I found myself drawn to the smell of paper, so would take extra care in printing it in this format also. Over time, it became more than a habit but a state in which I must work. It was so much easier to miss crucial data while skimming over a datapad. Something I'd got from my mother, my love of both the old and the new. Mother was fascinated by all kinds of culture and had lived long enough to see the old as well as appreciate the new. My home featured artifacts from all over the galaxy and from a variety of different species, from Asari to Batarian, I even had a model of a scientist salarian.
As I unpeeled my office clothes from my body, I remembered that I didn't have work tomorrow. Then thought glumly of the night before that lazy morning where a couple realized they could stay in bed holding each other all day. For those that had somebody to be with, it must be wonderful. It must be comforting. For me, the only comfort I could find was that I wasn't creating a trail of bodies by succumbing to my genetic destiny. The only solace I could find was slipping into my favourite tight purple one-suit with V-neck cleavage on show and backless, thinking of how sexually appealing I must look to any that would gaze on it. Couldn't let that happen, of course, but it was fun to fantasize. I envisioned someone taking me roughly as the strength of their desire knew no bounds. I would feel free; flooded on ecstasy. We'd dance like lovers do. Sing to the moon as our minds melded into a climax so powerful that it could shake Thessia itself. Everything inside me was raining with need to be close to someone, to bond as lovers. It could only mean the Ardat-Yakshi side of me was waiting to be unleashed from it's never-ending slumber. Instead, I called my mother; asked if she wouldn't mind stopping by if she was by the Citadel. With every part of me expecting that she would say no, she surprised me with a yes and said she'd be there shortly. Mother's code desired that a Justicar must always locate oneself where the fight was most dire. Not since the Reaper invasion had the Citadel been under any kind of attack - yet there she was. Not an hour later, I heard the two shards of the front door split apart and out stepped Samara.
"You are dressed quite provocatively, my child. Is there something you wish to discuss?"
Her inquiry reminded me that I hadn't changed out of my purple one-piece. Potentially embarassing, but then I knew that mother had spent much of her youth in migration and must've been around quite a lot. Having three children in itself suggested that her mother had once probably been more of a sexual deviant that she would ever be.
"What's wrong with it? It's not like I can ever have anyone to appreciate it."
I bit back, wishing I could suck the words back into my mouth upon seeing a twinge of pain on my mother's face.
"Yes... I suppose that's true."
There was little reason to make mother feel guilty. After all, she had no idea she would birth three Ardat-Yakshi. Pureblood pairings, while rare, were certainly no guarantee of an Ardat-Yakshi being born. However Mother would always see Morinth's victims as being deaths on her hands. And after Rila gave her life... let's just say that having the two of us in the same premises was certainly a rare occurrence these days. She was always welcome but a) she was always travelling and b) she was reluctant to visit her final - and youngest - daughter, as if she would be a danger to me. There was no use trying to sway her, I just had to appreciate any time I could spend with her. It wasn't allowed when I was in the monastery. Matriarch Gallae kept a very firm handle on contact with anyone, whether it was visitors from the outside or even your own friends inside the monastery. No unsupervised meet-ups were permitted. It had been harsh, cold, cynical but it gave me a lot of time to consider who I was. I was an Ardat-Yakshi. Being one meant I was so dangerous that I couldn't meet with another asari without supervision; I was no good to the rest of the galaxy. Nobody wanted their free time revoked for a month by breaking those rules and those who did, were up to no good and were soon exterminated. Samara could see the haunted look on my face as I recalled my previous life.
"Falere, don't look so sad, my child. You have done better than most. You have accepted your condition and taken precautions to keep others from getting hurt. You've shown no inclination towards the violence and hedonistic pleasures that corrupted Morinth. Do not forget that you were grateful when you went to the monastery, you wished for nothing more to be stripped of the ability to cause harm to others. I am so proud of you Falere." her voice whispered softly.
I smiled gratefully.
"I know, Mother. I do have fond memories from that time to draw upon when I'm feeling low. I remember the first time they took us on a supervised trip to Thessia. I was so excited to see the Asari homeworld! I could scarcely contain my excitement. It was... beautiful."
Samara nodded.
"One day, you will have to go back there, Falere. Once it is rebuilt to the glory that it once was."
This reminder of the Reaper war prompted me to ask a personal question. It was like speaking of the dead, handled carefully and sensitively, but I still had to know.
"If Thessia was so glorious, why couldn't you stay there? Why did you have to become a Justicar, a title that demands you have no home and no material possessions..."
"- you know the answer to that already, Falere. Morinth was a great threat that had to be eliminated. I could not morally let others attempt to catch her.. and watch another three hundred years go by with more and more families suffering because their own children were mercilessly killed by my daughter."
Feeling social, I didn't press the issue. The last thing I wanted was for Mother to dismiss herself and then never see me for another hundred years, all over a gloomy conversation topic that they had made peace with long ago. Not to mention, anything that prolonged the ferocious need to thrust myself unapologetically at my own bed tonight was welcome. We stayed up all night talking. First about integral topics such as childhood, being a Justicar, how we should stay in touch more, then onto topics as trivial as the new crystal glazing I had put into my house for only two and a half thousand credits. Stainless, shiny and gorgeous. Terrible in the event of getting shot at, but the odds of that occurring now that there was no war was slim to none. Mother's voice was hollow but filled with wisdom, listening to her speak regressed my consciousness to being a little girl again. Listening carefully of my mother's tales, drinking in every word and writing it into the carved stone of my adolescent mind. It was a gradual descent from there to me barely able to keep my head up any longer; at which point we called it a night. I kissed her cheek and begged her to visit more often. Otherwise, I would be alone.
Alone.
