"...Are you sure about this?"
Marcella had to squint through the light of the noonday sun as she looked up at the squat, sand-colored building. It had been so long since she had seen Fort Audax during the day. She tended to come late and leave when it was still dark, it always just appeared as a bright mass on the horizon, a beacon from all the floodlights. Now it almost seemed to loom over her, the dull paneling a stark contrast against the blue sky. Her eyes roved over the faded lettering painted on the metal. At least that part looked familiar.
Castis stood at her side. He fiddled with his omni-tool, fingers flying over the holo keyboard, his face a litany of micro-expressions. She didn't have to wonder who he was talking to.
"This is all just a big misunderstanding," he almost seemed to be talking more to himself than to her, "Fedorian loves everyone. I'm sure he'll love you too, he just needs to get to know you. He'll be fine."
But he was bouncing one of his legs nervously and his neck muscles were twitching from clenching his jaw so tightly. He seemed even more anxious than when he brought her in for questioning. And the way he smartly tapped and frowned at the holo-keyboard clearly in some kind of heated discussion seemed to indicate his friend might not be entirely on board. Marcella couldn't help but smirk. "What, is he jealous?"
Cas swallowed, nose wrinkling as though recalling something unpleasant. "No, he…he told me he saw you outside the fort the other night." His fingers hovered over the omni-tool as he turned to look at her. "...He seems to think you stole something out of the cache."
"I wasn't stealing." She said a little too quickly.
Castis nodded vigorously at her. "I know you weren't." He went back to typing furiously. "He just saw you with the rifle and must have assumed the worst."
"Ah, huh…hm." she scratched at her mandible a little nervously.
It was true, she wasn't stealing anything when she snuck back to the cache that night. She was just returning the pistol.
That she had stolen.
"...This is all just a big misunderstanding," Castis repeated. He tapped his tool off and huffed, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his hands out as though to form a physical barrier between him and his misgivings. "It's fine. Everything will be fine. We're gonna clear this up right now."
He marched purposefully toward the main entrance, punched in a code, and as the door slid open with a sharp whine, he turned and gave Marcella one last apprehensive look.
She answered it with a wink. There was no reason to be nervous.
How bad could the big lug be?
As she followed him through the familiar dim corridors, as grimy and claustrophobic as ever, she became keenly aware of the daytime bustle of the fort. It was still quiet, but over the hum of generators and the buzzing of lights were the unmistakable sounds of footsteps, the tapping of buttons, the quiet mutters of other patrons of the fort, scurrying around tending to some business or another. She unconsciously stood up a little straighter.
Marcella had never given much thought to the opinions of others, especially at a piss-poor excuse of a security station like this, but the way Castis marched ahead of her, chest out, head high as though leading the procession for a royal dignitary instead of smuggling her in as he usually did made her feel…significant. Perhaps she should at least pretend to be the person he thought she was. It was strange, but she found herself wanting to make a good first impression. For his sake, at least.
So when a man came out of nowhere, tall and moody with lavender markings striped along his mandibles, she tensed, squared her shoulders, and tried to look at least marginally presentable. If this was the Loud Friend, there was no room for error. "Um, h-hi–"
"Domiticus," Cas snapped at the man, apparently as caught off guard as she was. "You're supposed to be in maintenance."
The turian apparently known as Domiticus didn't even look in Cas's direction. He grunted in acknowledgment though it came out as more of a scoff. He stormed past without so much as a salute.
Marcella watched Castis's back stiffen from behind. She sidled up next to him, and gave a reproachful look back at the retreating turian, "...Not very polite."
Cas's fingers twitched but his hands otherwise stayed at his sides. He continued marching forward with renewed purpose. "Hmph."
"Aren't you like, in charge here under the general?"
She heard his mandibles click pointedly. "...Yes." He cast a resentful look behind him. "Fedorian and I chose to come here. The others…didn't."
Marcella's browplates rose at the implication. The fort definitely seemed like a punishment. And if what he had told her about the general was true, he was as much a prisoner here as they all were. "Huh, and you chastise me for living in a den of criminals—"
"Ahem - was, uh, was it bad walking all the way from the compound?" He said suddenly, his march almost becoming a light jog. He seemed keen to veer away from the subject. "I know you don't have that hovercycle now–"
"Oh, don't worry, I don't go around there anymore." She smirked, "I've just been living on the grass patch mostly."
"...You what?" He turned his head and shot her a look.
"Hey, you said so yourself that going back there was a bad idea–"
"So no shelter?" He slowed to a brisk walk. "You're just out in the open? All day?"
"It's fine, I sleep there all time, I have a whole process–"
"Someone could find you!"
"Noooo, I keep anything valuable in the ruins. It's really not that bad–"
"Unacceptable! " His voice echoed through the hallway but the vibrations of his subvocals suddenly shifted into something softer. "Perhaps…it would be better if you just…stayed here."
Her eyes widened at that. "Oh, really?"
She sensed a slight hesitation but he otherwise seemed sincere. "...Just for a day. Maybe we can figure out a solution tomorrow."
Marella chewed her tongue. Of course she loved the idea. A bed, shower, and a proper roof over her head for a whole day? Hell, he might even bring her food. Real food! It was all too good to be true. This was certainly a far cry from the man who meticulously shunted her around after dark, only allowing her in when his boss was out, drawing charts and diagrams to prevent their detection from the cameras. Seeing him throw such caution to the wind was almost crazy.
…Too crazy. She frowned as she recalled what he had messaged her the other day:
'I don't care anymore.'
"...Seems pretty bold. What if someone found out?"
"It would just be until tomorrow. No one would notice." By the swing of his elbows, she could tell he was wringing his hands in his usual manner. "It's my room, no one else would come in. I would be out most of the day anyway, I could even change the door code just in case. It's not technically against the rules–"
"But I'm assuming the general wouldn't approve anyway?"
She watched his shoulders tense. "Well. No. But…" The deep rumble in his throat made her stomach flutter pleasantly. "...You're a part of my life now and that's something everyone needs to accept."
"Oh, think you can spend your life with me?" she teased. She had a feeling she already knew what he would say, but it was still so nice to hear.
There was no pause or waver. He didn't even turn around. "Definitely."
She bounced a bit behind him, her unease suddenly coated in something warm and comfortable. "Well, my apologies to General Faldian, then."
"Faldos."
"Whatever." She blinked and then paused. "Wait, then who's the friend I'm meeting?"
"Fedorian."
Oof, confusing. She muttered rhythmically under her breath, " Fedorian, Faldos, Fedorian, Faldos…"
They turned right at a cross-section and came upon a wide opening, an entrance to some equally dim but much larger room. Judging by the anxious flick of his mandibles, this was it.
"Alright," Castis paused outside the entranceway, a persistent hum of determination in his subharmonics. "He can be a lot to take in at first but trust me. He means well."
"If you say so. But, do me a favor…let me do the talking. I know you wanna play protector, " she gave him a playful nudge in the side with her elbow, "but I can speak for myself."
"I know, I know, I won't… interfere," he grumbled sheepishly, still tugging at his fingers, "I know you can handle it, I just…"
"Don't worry, I'll be nice." She made a mock face of disgust.
Castis stiffened his jaw and gave a final nod of resolve. "It'll be okay. You'll like him." but as he turned away and continued through the doorway she heard him mutter. "...I hope you'll like him."
Her mandibles clicked nervously as she followed behind. She hoped so too. She was never very good at pretending to like people.
They entered what looked like some sort of larger common room, as dingy and windowless as the rest of the fort but with workbenches and tables scattered around, a few water dispensers, trash, and various food wrappings littered on the floor. The ceiling was low, making the room look even smaller than it already was.
Marcella scanned the room and blinked in surprise as she saw a lone figure hovering nervously near one of the benches, waiting for them. He was huge. Marcella wasn't short by any means and this guy was almost a head taller than her. His shoulders were so broad that she was surprised he had managed to fit through the door. As she and Cas made their way over to him she felt an unpleasant tug in her stomach. He had seen her in the cache after all. She'd have to really sell it. She tugged and smoothed her jacket.
"Fedorian," Castis said a little stiffly as they approached the large stranger, "Glad you could, uh, meet us."
"Vakarian!" The sudden noise that erupted from the frighteningly huge man almost made Marcella jump out of her plates. He flared his mandibles wide and opened his arms invitingly as he ha'n't seen him in years. His subvocals purred so loud they practically rattled the walls. Marcella took an unconscious step back.
Castis seemed completely unfazed. He stepped aside and extended an arm toward her. "This is Marcella Khatirus, my…..friend." He shuffled his feet a little awkwardly. "She's the bounty hunter I met a few months ago. She's heard all about you, I'm sure you'd both, uh...get along great." His tone was genial, but the underlying threat in his subvocals wasn't lost on her. Watch yourself.
The large man fixed his eyes on her and flexed his mandibles in a somehow even wider smile. It seemed just a little too eager. "Hello!" he practically yelled. "Quintin Fedorian- nice to meet you! A bounty hunter, huh? How exciting!"
Marcella couldn't help but tense at the sheer volume of his voice. He was even louder than she had anticipated, which was a lot based on what she'd heard on the comms. Those fuzzy calls didn't do him justice at all. Her eyes roved over the bright yellow markings that striped the jaw and cheeks of his tan plates. Despite the overt display of friendliness, the expression didn't quite reach his brown eyes. But even if he wasn't making an obvious show of it, she wouldn't have assumed it was authentic. No one was that nice unless they wanted something.
She decided she didn't like him. Her mandibles tightened against her face and she suppressed a rumble of disinterest.
But she saw Cas watching her intently out of the corner of her eye, his hands working themselves raw, expression anxious but hopeful, so she took a breath and hitched her mandibles up into what she hoped conveyed a welcoming and especially non-threatening expression.
"Wow, you're...tall! Is that why you're so loud? You think people can't hear you from up there?"
"...HAAA!" He tossed his head back in an almost comical manner and a long exaggerated laugh came out in a harsh wheeze. He even clapped his hands together. But he couldn't hide the dissonant thrum of his subvocals indicating he wasn't exactly amused. "And she's funny…! Wow!"
Marcella chuckled weakly, stomach continuing to tighten unpleasantly. She really did have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way.
"... Hey, uh, is anyone thirsty? I can get something to drink." Castis piped up, turning toward the small container of water placed at the end of the table and picking out several paper cups sitting next to it. "We have water and, um, water–"
"It's a good thing your bounty hunting isn't as good as your comedy or we'd be out of a job, huuuh?!" The giant's eyes almost sparkled with apparent mirth. He trailed off with another one of his obnoxious rumbling chuckles. "I'm just kidding of course–"
"-Ah hah, yes, well, maybe if you spent more time working and less time calling your executive officer every five minutes you wouldn't have to worry about it!" Marcella said with a loud chuckle of her own, using everything in her power to hide the disdain in her subharmonics.
At that, they both laughed, loud and in Marcella's case at least, extremely forced. Castis fiddled with his water cup, his talons crinkling the paper as his eyes swiveled feverishly between the two of them.
"Hah! Well, he has been particularly absent these days - someone had to pick up the slack!" His laughter again seemed to shake the room.
Marcella's face was starting to hurt from the unnatural smile she was keeping frozen on her face. "Then I guess it's a good thing that Cas is good at multitasking."
The big guy's mandibles suddenly clamped to his face and something unnerving flickered across his eyes. "...'Cas' ?"
He shot Castis a pointed look, the smile returning, somehow even wider. "Aw, that's sweet. You know, he's never allowed me to call him by his first name in, hm, how long have we known each other? Four years?"
Castis averted his eyes and began taking short nervous sips from his cup.
"...In any case, I'm glad he was able to find such a good 'friend'." He turned back toward her, his friendly tone now buzzing almost deafeningly loud. "Especially out here, although you seem more than capable of handling yourself."
"Indeed."
"But, if you'll allow me, could I perhaps ask you a…personal question?"
One guess as to what that would be. "Why, certainly," Marcella's tone was sickeningly sweet, "What would you like to know?"
"I'm sorry, I hope this doesn't come off as too forward but…" The big guy tilted his head to the side, browplates furrowed, though his expression was still amiable. "...What's with your face?"
"PffthHHCK–!"
Marcella felt a spray of water hit her back in a light mist. Beside her, she heard Castis gurgle and choke.
"Fe–fedor…! " Castis sputtered, breaking off in a violent cough.
Marcella still locked eyes with the freakishly large turian, her fake smile plastered on her face but she felt a twist in her stomach.
She decided she hated him.
"Oh, these…?" She tapped a finger to the thin parallel scars winding up the right side of her face. The thing he was very obviously not referring to. "It's actually a funny story! I got into a brawl. With three krogan! " Her eyes were wide and her voice loud, almost mocking his enthusiasm. She held a hand up and wiggled her fingers in a way she hoped would indicate she thought he was too dumb to know how many three was.
"Oh, wow!" He laughed even louder, his eyes flashing in a way that indicated he didn't believe her. He was right. It was only partially true. "That's really interesting! But not quite what I meant–"
"Oh - hey - look at that, I'm out of water." Cas burst out, shaking his now empty cup and grabbing Marcella's arm, tugging her away. "How about I show you the kitchen and we get something else to drink…"
Marcella didn't budge. " Ooooh, you mean my lack of markings?" She flared her mandibles in a smirk though focused more on baring her teeth.
"If you don't mind me asking, of course…!" His toothy smile mimicked her own.
"Oh not at all…!"
Castis's grip on her arm was becoming almost painful. "Are you sure b-because you seem like need– "
She raised a hand to silence him, smile wide, eyes still boring into the offensively large man.
She didn't have to explain herself to anyone.
And yet.
"I was part of a colony that got raided by pirates and wiped out. My family died and I didn't have the heart or the patience to look up what they looked like so I could have the option of wearing their memorial on my face. Think of it more as a way to show everyone what was taken from me. But you're right, it does stand out. I don't know, I suppose I could've just slapped something on to fit in with everyone else - but I'm an orphan from a defunct colony with no formal training and I figure most people will find that out soon enough anyway. What's the point in hiding?"
Fedorian blinked, his smile finally faltering. He seemed somewhat taken aback by her answer.
Good.
"Besides," she hit him with another faux smile, "it's a good way to weed out people that aren't worth talking to."
Castis was nearly beside himself. "I really think we should go get something else to drink–!"
"You go on ahead." She reached behind and placed a hand on Cas's shoulder, her eyes still not leaving Fedorian's face, "I'm still talking to your friend." She gave his shoulder a light squeeze and her subvocals hummed to him reassuringly.
I'm fine.
Castis seemed to shrink, his hands twisting, his posture the picture of reluctance. "Well… alright…" Slowly, he backed toward the door.
"Take your time…!" Fedorian sang out after him a chuckle still rumbling in his throat.
He retreated backward toward the exit, eyeing them until he finally made it to the wide frame of the door. As soon as he turned the corner the sound of scurrying footsteps could be heard down the hall as he sprinted to get whatever he was after as fast as he could.
"So…" She began once Cas was officially out of sight, the fabricated friendliness of her voice now down a couple of pegs. "...Do you always accost new acquaintances on their shortcomings or am I just special?"
The large man's head snapped back toward her. He leaned down until he was only a few inches from her face. His obnoxiously friendly demeanor had evaporated, his eyes had narrowed, and when he spoke it was strangely quiet, his subvocals resonating with barely concealed anger. "I know what you're doing and it's going to stop."
Marcella's mandibles flared in outrage. "...Excuse me?"
Fedorian growled louder, his large frame looming over her in a way that made her feel trapped and she felt something cold race up her spine. "Don't play stupid with me. I know your type. You may have him fooled but it's gonna take a lot more than that to get to me."
He pointed one of his large fingers at her chest. "I know what you're really after."
Marcella scoffed and held up her hands in mock surrender. "Oop, you caught me. You're right, I confess. This is all just a ruse so I can infiltrate your shitty little outpost–"
"Well I - I don't know what your ultimate goal is, but I do know it's not really about Vakarian, is it? It's about getting whatever you can take," he eyed the phaeston still strapped to her back, "or convincing someone to give it to you."
Marcella felt the skin under her plates grow hot. This guy represented everything she hated about these stuffed shirts - fake, lazy, and insufferable in their self-righteousness and she'd love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he could shove his unwanted opinions.
However…
She swallowed her pride, large and unruly as it might be as Cas's face swam into her mind's eye. He has already done so much for her. Risked so much. Was she really gonna throw it away over this? Very rarely did she keep a cool head, but she had to - it was worth it. He was worth it.
For his sake, just try.
As much as it pained her, she sorted her features into something she hoped looked genuine and spoke as sincerely as she could muster. "I…understand how it might look on the outside, but believe me: I do like him–"
I love him.
"-a lot and as hard as it may be for you to believe, I wouldn't do anything to hurt him. He trusts me. And if you claim to know him so well, that should mean something to you." She kept her gaze steady, hoping her nerves and obvious irritation didn't shine through.
The large turian only stared, brown eyes narrowed and mandibles flicking angrily. Sizing her up, looking for an angle. "...He can be…trusting."
"Yes."
"Too trusting." His mandibles raised into a sneer. "And that's what I'm for."
Marcella felt her anger start to boil over. "I'm sorry, are you his dad or something?"
"No, I'm his friend, and I know him better than you ever will–"
"Oh sure, you do...!" her subvocals trilled in a mocking tone she was glad to see seemed to get under his skin.
Fedorian's neck started to flush. "Look," his volume was back up, coated in condescension. "I'm sure he's said a lot of things to you. Things that seem very...idealistic."
Marcella raised a brow plate.
"But you can't buy into it.'' He spoke with an air of someone breaking some kind of devastating news, "You see, Vakarian is–"
"Dramatic?" she interjected.
"Exactly, and–"
"Emotional?"
"Yes and he–"
"-Gets extremely passionate about something to the point where it's the only thing he cares about?"
Fedorian threw his arms up in the air. "Yes! So you understand! You understand that this…this isn't…"
Marcella narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. "'Real'?"
"Well…" he faltered for a moment but then seemed to harden his resolve. "... yeah."
Marcella's jaw tightened. No more games. Composure be damned. "Sorry, but I honestly don't give a fuck what you think."
"Am I supposed to believe you're not using him for something?"
"Oh, you're gonna talk to me about using him?" She delighted in seeing a flash of uncertainty flicker across his big stupid face. "Oh yeah, I know all about your little 'deal'. He does all the work and you get a free ride." Her grin widened. "Do I have that right?"
"That's not true! " Fedorian now was on the defensive, rumbling in outrage. "He's my friend, we're helping each other–"
"You're helping him by being a lazy, nosy, obnoxious oaf?"
"And you think you're doing any better you a conniving little–!"
"Hey, I'm back–! " Castis stumbled into the room, shoving between them, breath coming hard and fast. He carried what looked like a large flask of something dark brown, a couple glasses held precariously between his fingers. "Did I miss - are you…" he broke off in a wheeze, "...is everything…okay…?"
"Great!" Fedorian chirped gleefully.
"Perfect." Marcella seethed.
"I can't believe you."
Castis stood outside of General Faldos's office, fists clenched, heart-pounding and positively shaking with rage. Never in his life had he felt so angry, so disgusted .
Fedorian was leaning against the wall of the dingy hallway, head bowed and arms folded tight. As though trying to diminish his large form. "I - I didn't mean for it to go like that–"
Castis could practically feel his blood boiling. "I told you to go easy on her, I told you to watch your mouth - and you had the audacity to ask about her–"
"I didn't mean anything by it - I swear - it was just an honest question, I didn't know–"
"You…!" Castis couldn't even bring himself to finish. In the several hours since that horrific encounter, he had done nothing but seethe. It was a disaster. Of course it was a disaster, he was a fool to think it would be anything else. But - spirits - if anyone would understand, it would be Fedorian. He thought if he just showed him, let him see, revealed this one extremely private part of his life, he would get it. After all they'd been through. " I trusted you ."
To his credit, Fedorian looked truly upset. His large shoulders slumped and he hummed a sour note. "I don't trust her –"
"I don't care."
"I'm trying to watch out for you–"
"I don't need your–!"
"Silence!" In an instant, the overwhelming presence of General Faldos seemed to materialize before them, huffing and stomping down the hall, and full of his usual barely-tempered rage. Castis had to drive out of the way as he stormed past and up to the door of his office. He practically cracked the door panel as he violently stabbed in the door code with his finger. "Get in here. Now."
Castis shot Fedorian a look as he filed into the room behind the irate general. His subharmonics thrumming discordantly. We'll talk about this later.
Fedorian just shook his head, though he thought he heard a soft hum escape Fedorian's throat: "Why did it have to be her… ?"
The still slightly-dented and scuffed desk rattled noisily as Faldos slammed a blue-tinged fist onto its surface.
"The comm relay is still down. It could be a technical error, an antenna might need realignment - I don't care. " He moved to his seat and started pulling something up on the terminal "We haven't received any word on it being fixed by Signals Corps and we're running on fumes. The damn station is hard enough to get to as it is. We need a team to—"
Castis squeezed his eyes shut, anger still bubbling in the back of his throat. Right, the comm station. It had been a problem for months and something he was supposed to be brainstorming a solution to. He kneaded his crest with his hand. Focus…focus…
His thoughts kept drifting to Marcella, holed up secretly in his room. He had even given her a password he had to use to get in. Was she angry? She must have been. She had brushed it off after they left Fedorian but she brushed everything off. She must be devastated, she must be. This was all his fault–
"Why don't we just have someone take a rover up?" Fedorian suggested, scratching absentmindedly at his mandible. "Make Telrix go up, he's pretty handy and he's the one who's always hounding me."
"I wouldn't trust Telrix with a sharp spoon let alone a rover ." Faldos spat. He pointed angrily at something on the terminal. "The terrain isn't fit for rovers the trench is too narrow–"
Castis swallowed, continuing to stare ahead, his thoughts a conflicting and deafening mess. He tried to listen, tried to be present, but his anger and embarrassment kept snaking up his spine, cinching his chest. He just couldn't emotionally distance himself from what happened. Why was he like this?
"So wait, are we gonna have to babysit them so they don't run off? Where would they even go?" Despite Faldos's very apparent irritation, Fedorian looked exceedingly bored. "Do we have to?"
Faldos's mandibles twitched, a crackling blue energy flared up along his arms and he tapped furiously at his terminal as though it had offended him personally. In an instant, Faldos looked up and all the energy seemed to be sucked out of the room. "Lieutenant—"
Castis finally snapped to, just in time to defuse the situation."Sir, I'll handle it. I'll go up. "
Faldos's head jerked toward him.
"I volunteer as well, sir!" Fedorian said. "I would be happy to assist." he turned and flashed Castis a smile that formed a knot in Castis's stomach. "I know he's been pretty distracted lately!"
"No better than you, lieutenant Fedorian." Faldos snapped. "I couldn't help but notice the supply closet is somehow worse than when you left it."
Fedorian's mandibles tightened against his face with a light clack.
"Sending the two top officers into the field alone wouldn't work..." Fados mumbled to himself. "It's too far, the area isn't mapped-"
"Sir," Castis continued, "I go on foot on patrols all the time. We can take the rover then when we get to the area we can just scout our way up."
"No good," Faldos said, pushing up from his desk. "The hills are rife with bandits. You'd get lost and then jumped. If you're lucky we'd find your sun-dried corpses in a few months." He growled and rubbed his crest, quickly losing what little patience he still had. "You'd need more muscle. Someone who knows the area, knows what they're doing. Someone more cunning than these damn fools."
Castis paused, mind-racing. An idea started to take shape. A very dangerous but exciting idea.
What if...
"Sir." he said suddenly, "I might have a solution."
Faldos's eyes were still staring hard at the terminal screen. "Say it."
"I...know of someone who a lot of experience in this vicinity. They could potentially navigate us through the area and help us avoid any kind of ambush."
The general let out an impatient growl. "And who is that?"
Fedorian shot Castis a look. From the way his eyes widened in fear, he seemed to know exactly what he had in mind. He shook his head, his large hands swiping across his neck furiously. No!
Castis only stared him down. Yes.
