A converted warehouse was the scene televised across every comm, terminal, and extranet port Omega housed. Aria'd chosen the location partially out of convenience - she knew her work crews would go undisturbed in this deserted sect - but mostly because of its significance. Prior to her heavily orchestrated coup, Petrovsky had made it known that it was this facility that Cerberus had taken a foothold in some years ago, and used it as their base of operations during the overtaking of Omega. Now, with all the remnants from their occupation gone from view, Aria had given specific orders to turn this place into a symbol the people could draw strength from. The hundreds in attendance lined the walls and make-shift rows facing a raised platform as they awaited a speaker, giving off a tabernacle atmosphere. A single Haceth was held by each patron, the indigenous purple flower of Thessia a symbol of ceremonious dignity, pride, and success, an offering for those passed so that the living might prosper. Pleased with the outfit - and, if she was being honest with herself, a little amused at the sight of grizzled mercs and looming krogan clutching such dainty flowers in their mitts - Aria emerged from the stage's sublevel. She waited until all eyes and cameras were on her before beginning a slow march across her podium, speaking out above the crowd.
"Citizens of Omega. You know why you are here today. You know that while you have suffered greatly, there are those who have paid the ultimate price. Our friends, neighbors, associates, partners... loved ones... they are at rest while you are left to rebuilt in their wake.
"Today is not only for those we have lost, but for those who remain. It is vital we remember their sacrifices as we restore balance as we know it. For we have chosen this path and must continue to toil along it, to make this rock, yours and mine, the greatness it once was. None could claim as we did and do again, that we are free to live our lives as we see fit, to reap the spoils of a forsaken galaxy. These are Omega's most prized attributes, that which separates us from the rest. Today we stand as proof that no one shall bend us to their will. Today, you and your dead rise up as an example for all of those who strive for freedom from oppression and have the courage to achieve it."
A round of nods and muffled sounds of agreement resounded from the mass at her feet. The asari, satisfied, came to rest at the center of the stage, her speech turning from a call to take heart to a more somber note.
"But in the wake of our hurried attempts to restore the grandeur we hold so dear, we must not forget them. The men and women who gave their lives to make this day possible. We all know someone who can't share this day with us, can put the face to a name that rings silent, and that is the hardest yet most integral part. To forget them is to forsake their memories, no matter how big or small. We can only hope to do them justice; that is why we stand here together, crooks and criminals, mercenaries and madmen alike, to pay homage to those who have given the ultimate sacrifice.
"And I can't pretend as though I played no part in this." Icicles fell as she averted her cool blue eyes. Truth, as always, was her sharpest spearhead. She knew it would bring these people together the way no apologies or excuses ever could. "Before this mess began, I knowingly worked with Cerberus. The Illusive Man's reputation is a sound one, and he is as clever as he is dangerous. When personal interests clouded my judgement, he offered me solace and revenge, then ripped it from my grasp with only minutes to spare. When adjutants first made their appearance on this port, the same Petrovsky you know and hate arrived with promise to annihilate the threat. I saw what those monsters did to people. I saw what their victims became; I knew I couldn't let that sort of pestilence endanger all our lives. When Cerberus had me right where they wanted me, they sprung their trap. You all united with me under one cause: rid Omega of their scourge. But still they had us right where they wanted us. A slew of Cerberus vessels were poised at the ready to wipe us off the grid if the resistance didn't evacuate.
"I left the station. I sought refuge elsewhere instead of finding a way to continue the fight on our own turf. I was disgusted with myself. I can tell you about how I built alliances in my absence's stead, made preparations for the war home, how I too saw familiar faces obliterated before my eyes. But in the end, I still left. And I can only show you my resolution to never abandon you again with time and example."
Chancing a glance into some of the eyes before her, Aria searched for defiance, hatred, suspicion. While there was hostility - how could there not be? They were on Omega, after all - there was also a steadfast acceptance that caused a hitch in her breath, a vague but empowering hope flooding her veins like a narcotic. This is what Aria lived for. As de facto ruler of Omega for longer than most species' life cycles, she'd grown fiercely rapacious of not only the hub itself, but the ideal her syndicate had ensured for its residents. The basis of their freedom to do as they pleased relied on her ironclad rule. It seemed the Cerberus occupation had cemented this dogma. Either way, her sway with this lot was apparently still intact. Stealing a fleeting look to her side, she saw Shepard's unmistakable outline merging with the shadows cast from the overhead floodlight positioned to light up Aria's performance. In a rare moment of diffidence made all the more unsettling by her present adrenaline rush, she wished she could see the support she hoped was exuding from the commander's direction.
"You've won your battle, Omega. But be warned: you have not won the war. A handful of adjutants are nothing compared to what will happen to your neighborhoods, your streets, your homes and families if the Reapers are not stopped. We must continue to stand together, a beacon of perseverance, blood, sweat and tears. It is with heavy hearts that we say our goodbyes today, hopeful that these are the last to perish in this hellish war. In memory of those we say our litanies for today, we ask that they see us through these dark times. May we endeavor to make their sacrifices not in vain."
Another murmur from the multitude, and they began to disperse. Ahz cut the feed, the static of her comm overpowered by the slow dirge of a thousand footfalls marching from the building. Aria stood with leadened feet and waited until the populous had cleared before loping down to the main floor. Stooping, she retrieved a fallen Haceth and guided it just under her nose, soaking in its perfume. The moment was truly one of the most bittersweet she'd ever known.
"Aria?"
The uncertainty in Shepard's voice was disarming, but even it couldn't pull her from her lamented musing. "I did good, Shepard. My voice didn't even break once." Though she was having a distinctly hard time pulling focus on the ground at her feet, or the soft lace of the flower's petals not an inch from her face. It must've been all those tears she was so desperate not to shed.
"C'mon, let's get you out of here." Taking the asari's shoulders firmly in her palms, Aria didn't object as Shepard guided her to the safety of the cloaked recesses beyond the stage. She almost felt safe enough to let a few droplets fall to christen the funeral pyre behind her. Almost.
A lone figure watched from the threshold of the warehouse as the legendary Commander Shepard took hold of and gently guided a grieving Aria T'Loak from view. Slipping quietly through the cattle herded in to watch the spectacle, detection hadn't been an issue; but that was only a matter of a well-thought out guise and mirroring what these fools believed to be dangerous yet grieving. Seeing what Aria had to say was imperative to their cause, now more than ever. But Shepard being here was unexpected and impromptu. It had the potential to throw a wrench in the gears that were being set into motion.
So, she came back for the charade. Brooding, the presence turned and melted into the bustle of patrons eager to return to their quarters. I wonder how long she'll be staying.
Though Aria knew it was integral that she weigh the impact her words had had on the denizens, she pointedly averted her eyes from any of the hovercar's windows during the short ride back to Afterlife. She couldn't see any reminders of Nyreen on their return flight, least it break what little of her resolve remained.
Shepard, on the other hand, either gambled or sensed this need in the chipped veneer to her side. Peering down to the streets whirling by below, she quietly recited the activity taking place, making small talk with Bray, who was behind the pilot controls. From what she took from their small talk, they were doing just what she hoped: moving forward with an earnest. Construction crews were moving with a renewed vigor, street merchants selling with a zeal, even lesser mercenaries standing patrol could have been guarding a king's jewels. Life was restored in the people, the flame that Cerberus had attempted to douse restored anew. Though she should feel a victory with this news, she had neither the will nor the desire to bother.
The chatter fell silent as Bray circled around to the VIP entrance in the market plaza far enough away from Afterlife's main entrance so as not to attract unwanted attention. There would be a line of patrons waiting to get in if things really had returned to normal. Aria had scheduled a grand re-opening of the one cleared and refurbished level after the day's proceedings. Sure enough, Aria could hear the faint but distinct pulses emanating from the club before the craft had even landed.
"Coming in for a quick pick-me-up before scurrying off?" Aria called behind her as she climbed from the back row of seats.
Apparently, she hadn't needed to. Shepard was already rounding the rear of the car, coming to stand at Aria's elbow. "If you think I'm leaving you alone tonight, you're crazy."
Signaling to Bray, she waited until the hatch had sealed shut as he made to depart before teasing her companion. "Why? Afraid I might off myself just because I'm a little depressed?"
"And let Omega fall into someone else's hands so soon after you've reclaimed the place?" Ebony sashayed across civ-clad shoulders as the commander shook her head at the notion. "You've got to be kidding me."
I wish you'd take it a little more seriously for my sake, Shepard, Aria kept to herself as they reached the password-enticed turian doorman.
"I've had a hard day." Aria's violet-hued skin glowed in the dim lighting of her private room on one of the upper levels as she poured herself a glass of grainy liquid. Unlike most nights when she leaned toward the asari-favored honey mead, she wanted something that would punish her after the first sip. Tonight she was going to feel no pain even if it killed her, and lucky for her she had just the babysitter for the job. "That's all."
"Easy, killer," Shepard chided. Aria couldn't help but smirk. What a card.
"Don't tell me you're not going to help me with the bottle?"
"Oh, so you want me to get my ass kicked tonight too? Alright," she conceded. "But I'll stick to Peruvian if you've got it."
"Shepard, Shepard, recent restocking notwithstanding this is still Afterlife. I've got shit that could make your toes curl." Reaching further into her private stocks and retrieving another tumbler from its shelf, Aria catered to her guest with an exquisite flourish perfected many centuries ago. She hadn't served anyone in so long, she was surprised to find how fluidly her wrists remembered the motions. Huh. Still got it. "This, however," she directed at the commander while offering the glass and its contents, "will barely light your fire."
"Thanks, but this is plenty. Besides, I've already been poisoned in your establishment once."
"I remember." A swig of the nauseating swill punctuated her recollection. "Had to replace the bastard after he mysteriously swallowed some of his own concoction. You know, you really are more trouble than your worth. I don't know why I bother keeping your company."
"Always happy to leave a satisfied impression." Wow. Shepard's smile, albeit tight around the lips, seemed genuine. It was just enough to make Aria pause a heartbeat longer than usual.
"I should insult you more often," she mused. "If I'm rewarded with such pleasing results."
A guffaw was the only thing her invitation received. Blinking off the unknown snub, the asari made a note to remember that while most people weaved in any chance they dared to appease her, Shepard was different. She didn't care what anyone, the pirate queen included, thought of her, or so her unconscious foibles seemed to suggest. It was... strangely refreshing. More so than the goddamn drink in her hand. Perhaps the relief she sought would come in a different package wrapped up in intoxication's alluring little bow.
Setting the offensive crystal on the low table in front of her, Aria turned to face her companion head on. "So tell me. Did you enjoy my little speech today?"
The somber lambency returned to her eyes as she stared into her untouched hooch. "I think you pulled it off quite nicely, don't you?"
"Yes." Crossing her legs as she leaned back against the upholstery, she pretended not to show affliction as she recalled the several emotion's she'd buried while addressing her people. The both of them knew she couldn't afford to show weakness at a time like this; Omega needed strength, needed to look to someone for it. But now, in the safety of her private lounge, couldn't she be honest with herself enough to let Shepard see how congealed her insides had become? "I think that they heard what they needed to hear."
Worrying on her next words, Shepard's teeth released her bottom lip as she made to continue. "...but I also think that you don't feel the conviction in your own words. They rang true enough, but do you believe what you're saying?"
"Why wouldn't I?" she challenged.
"Aria." Her name had never sounded so much like velvet as it was raked across the gravel of Shepard's throat. "Talk to me. Tell me what you couldn't tell them. If you don't..." A sigh escaped the human's battered bosom. "If you don't, it'll consume you. You need an outlet. You need someone you can trust yourself with."
"And who says I trust you?" Aria bit.
"Here I am. Aren't I?"
Omega's matriarch was as ready as ever to unleash the full force of her ire upon the the woman before her, but the words caught on their way to her tongue. She'd had this conversation so many times in the past, one poor soul after the other ready to prod and caress the lax out of her they would need to attain some ill-begotten form of trust. In the end, they'd all wanted something. One of her general rules of thumb concerning those who approached her was that each and every one of them needed something in one way or another, and they were ready to bet on her for its fulfillment. Each one finding out the hard way what happens when you look to Aria T'Loak for such off-limit acquisitions. But from that first encounter so many months ago, Shepard had never asked for more than Aria was willing to give. She vaguely recalled the sense of irony that had accompanied their introduction; roughly two years prior, the young and impressionable Liara T'Soni had come to her seeking news as to Shepard's remains, making a campaign of reclaiming her dead commander's body. She'd never assumed in any of the many scenarios that had played out in her head that her tip would eventually lead to this moment, Shepard seeking to comfort the head of the greatest syndicate Omega had ever seen, seemingly with nothing more than good intentions on her agenda, and Aria... admittedly ready to accept her offer.
It was with begrudging shortness laced with earnest that she choked a reply. "You don't understand, Shepard. I can't even walk in the entrance of my own club without reliving it. Without seeing her face every time I see the charred remnants of the explosion, or behind my eyelids when I try to close my eyes long enough to sleep." Daggers flew as Aria met Shepard's gaze. "You're not the only one having trouble sleeping."
Shepard leaned in toward the asari across from her. "Are you having trouble coming to terms with the fact that she's gone?"
"No," Aria muttered heatedly. "I'm having trouble coming to terms with the fact that her death was completely pointless and avoidable. If only she'd waited."
"But instead, she did what I would've done: saved as many lives as possible and to hell with the consequences."
"And yet you're still here." Anxious steel searched headlong jewels, flakes of yellow floating along their iris' matching that of Nyreen's sunken pupils. Aria found herself tilting in closer to match Shepard's stance, precursors thrown to the wayside as she searched those orbs for the sense of understanding she so desperately craved, the tangible familiarity that lingered in such a small, scrupulous detail. "You remind me so much of her," she marveled, her breath tickling the pale cheeks not an inch away.
Their lips met, and her mind went blank.
Quickly straddling the raven-haired goddess, lavender fingertips brushed stray follicles from their interlocked mouths as her tongue sought refuge tracing along the inside of Shepard's teeth. She tasted like the first gulp of water after fighting her way across a barren trek of desert, unsure of whether or not she'd find reprieval or starvation sooner.
Aria felt Shepard's hands come to rest along her hips, gently applying pressure to move them away from her body. But she wasn't having it. Bucking her groin into Shepard's, fingertips dug into her sides as she was rewarded with a carnal stir in the woman whose body her hands were tediously beginning to explore. A biotic aura pulsed along the asari's limbs, coating her and Shepard from head to toe as it overwhelmed their nerve-endings, making every brush of skin, thinly-veiled fabric, and sweet breath unbearably poignant.
But even that ended too quickly. In a moment of relief, Aria felt Shepard's mouth began to mirror her own frantic pace, pale skin pawing at her face long enough to get a good enough grip and rip their lips apart.
"I can't, Aria." Her words were soft and constricted. Forced past some unknown blockage in the human's throat. "You know I can't."
Anger wasn't ready to settle in yet. Instead, the fierce need to gyrate hips with the body belonging to those green and topaz embers, so alight and alive as they betrayed her own words, was still coursing through her veins. "You can go back to Vakarian once I'm through with you and act like I never stuck my tongue down your throat." Sans the necessary coquetting, her argument sounded unbearably delicious even to her own ears. "I need this, Shepard, I need you now. To hell with the consequences," she whispered as she traced a well-aimed duo of digits along the crease where pants met shirt. A couple of seconds and she'd plunge Shepard into a bliss she couldn't dredge herself out of until the morning come.
"No!" The word sliced the air like a knife, Shepard's hand clamping on Aria's and dragging it up to the back of the couch. Aria, in turn, leaned her full weight on the arm Shepard held, pinning her to the spot as she mulled over her next motion as the fight died out of her. The lingering ache in her bones was pure torture, serving only to enrage the violet vixen into giving Shepard what her mouth, not her body, said she wanted.
"Get out!" Aria bellowed, launching Shepard to the end of the settee and out from under her hold. "Get out and don't you dare come back here again under the pretense of helping the poor, deranged Aria T'Loak ever again!"
Straightening herself with infuriating calm, Shepard stood and faced the asari who still knelt on the cushioning where they'd been groping only seconds before. "I'm not doing this to hurt you." Why does she have to be so fucking sincere? she thought furiously, recognizing the fervor with which she spoke the words. "Maybe if I hadn't met Garrus... but I love him, Aria. He's got it bad enough while I'm running the risk of getting killed on a daily basis. I won't do this to him too."
Aria felt a cruel smile slithered onto her features. "Didn't you know? Everyone puts out after a funeral. I figured that's why you stuck around. You already knew full well my preferences; hell, that's why you're here today, right? What's wrong, Shepard? Changed your mind about shacking up with someone who could show you a thing or two?"
Shepard was, as only Shepard could be, deadpan as she retorted. "You know that's not why I came here today. I don't believe a word of it."
"Whether you do or not is irrelevant," she scathed, falling into her usual position of power at the center of the semi-circle duvet. "Now get the fuck out before I have you escorted back to your ship in a body bag."
A moment's worth of a lingering stalemate continued before Shepard turned on her heel and strode from the room. She left the asari broken, sitting on a throne of her own self-pity and contempt. Aria T'Loak never cried, least of all from rejection. She disabled her comm, removed all of her hardware and laid them on the table beside the two almost untouched whiskies before putting her head down on the hard surface that, unlike Shepard's lips, was so unforgiving. But she, the infamous Aria T'Loak of Omega, its one and only rock and steadfast hope, did not weep over such trivial things. However, the Aria that was borne of trying circumstances centuries before, who'd overcome every obstacle in her path, finding solace in one pair of fleeting arms after another and discarding them just as unceremoniously - the persona she thought she'd buried long ago - perhaps there was still just enough of that Aria left to let a few tears streak down her face after saying goodbye to one love and being turned away by another all in the span of just a few hours.