Never Leave Me
By Kachimoochi
Chapter VIII
Practicing Pick-Up Lines
RJ stood in his place for about a minute, scoping out the entire club environment, the dangers, the escapes, the taps, the essentials. Revin was beside him, she did much of the same though her attention was strongly drawn to the women in cages. She didn't find it arousing obviously, but something about them reminded her of a distant memory, or a distant thought, either way she couldn't take her eyes off of the over-sized bird cages of debauchery.
"You sure know how to pick them, don't you Revin?" RJ said in an accusatory tone.
"Don't blame me, I don't remember any of this!" Revin blurted, defending herself instantaneously.
Dropping the subject, RJ returned to his objective at hand. His first priority being to scout the environment for potential threats, in other words, Bane gangsters. As he recalled in the dozen or so anti-profiling PSAs he was forced to view when he worked in C-Sec, the "angel" on RJ's shoulder told him not to assume all Turians were part of the gang. CLED however had a brutal way of opening one's eyes to reality.
In RJ's experience, Turians were some of the most loyal and dangerous creatures in the galaxy. Never had he ever arrested or detained an innocent Turian, but many times he'd have to intervene in Turian vigilante justice against a dishonorable member of their race. Throughout his experiences in the Galaxy, he'd made friends with many Turians, most certainly Revin, Levita, and their parents. Revin's father in fact, once said to RJ, under the influence of a bit of Brandy, that he considered RJ the son he'd never had.
All this was to say that Bane Turians stood out like sore thumbs. If they already weren't harassing ordinary Turians or vice versa, they always traveled in groups and wore purple face markings. The Bane was a multicultural gang, any Turian from any clan could join, they needed only to paint over their clan markings with purple ink. Ordinary Turians took drastic care to make certain they weren't associated with the pariahs, meaning that when you noticed a Turian with purple face markings, they were usually associated with the Bane.
C-Sec of course, insisted that it wasn't enough.
That didn't make RJ's observations any easier, as seemingly every Turian in the room was marked in purple. In fact, it may be the only oasis for the Bane gang in the Lower Wards. Everybody from the bartenders to the cage dancers were marked in purple. The only salvation for RJ would be to communicate with a non-Turian, but then again there was no guarantee that they weren't allies of that gang as well.
"We're going to have to be careful about this, this wouldn't be an easy mess to get out of" RJ stated to his companion.
"No worries! I've gotten us out of much worse, remember that undercover mission with the Blue Suns?" Revin responded confidently.
"That's the thing Revin, I'm afraid I can't lean on your charms anymore" RJ whispered dreadfully.
Unbeknownst to him, a figure began to approach the pair, trotting silently whilst maneuvering through the gyrating crowds of drunks and junkies. The being sneaked behind the bar and walked towards the exit of the club, turning around, it inched ever closer to the ragged human whispering to himself.
"Practicing pick-up lines?" The figure whispered into RJ's ear, softly and sultry.
Instinctively, RJ dashed in small distance in front of him and turned violently and fast, pressing his left hand against his thigh in preparation for attack. In hindsight this was one of the dumbest moves he could have made, only an ex-soldier, mercenary, or cop would perform such a move, none of which were especially welcome in the Kensetus Club.
RJ's only saving grace was that most of the management and patrons were too drunk and stoned to notice.
As RJ's body began to still, in a vain attempt to hide his occupation, he took notice of the being which penetrated his personal bubble. The being was an Asari, possessing a seductive smirk on her face, and raised, penciled-in eyebrows. She was dressed conservatively for Asari standards, meaning that most of her assets were covered by clothes, tight black clothes, but clothes nevertheless.
RJ was no rookie, he knew that of all the dangerous beings and creatures in the known galaxy, Asari were at the top on both lists. Many a man met their ends distracted by the supple curves of the omnisexual race, Asari certainly weren't above using their bodies and their minds to achieve their means. The only thing that kept RJ from attacking her was an interest on her intensions, coupled with his present environment.
"What?" RJ spoke lowly but desperately.
"You were talking to yourself, I assumed you were working up lines to charm me with" The Asari beamed confidently.
RJ had experienced responses similar to this. He'd imagined that pretending that Revin didn't exist in public would become second nature when he left the asylum, but he only found himself talking to her more and more. Sometimes he'd be at his desk staring into a space beside it whispering to the air, and other times he'd be at a crime scene or interviewing a witness, and occasionally turn his head and whisper behind his shoulder. It raised a few eyebrows, but he got away with it most of the time, but it never stopped hurting when someone busted his bubble. That Revin was dead, and he only talked to her phantom, a figment of his imagination.
Before RJ could offer a witty response, or command her to piss off, the Asari in the body-hugging black cocktail dress approached him almost as fast as RJ had dashed away from her. She placed her chin upon his left shoulder and brought her mouth to his ear. She began chewing gently on his earlobe before whispering in his ear.
"I know who you are, I can help. Hold my hand and follow my lead" her voice emphasized with seriousness, a contrast from her previous bubbly and flirtatious voice.
She gave a final nibble on his earlobe before gripping his hand and turning away from him. RJ wasn't entirely fazed by this sudden turn of events, he'd gone through similar charades with many of his informants, none of which had ever found his earlobe delicious. As if to add insult to injury, as RJ was being led away by this mysterious Asari, he noticed Revin scowl as he was being feasted upon.
The daisy-chained beings meandered through the drunken mob of club patrons, sloshing their bodies about in what the Citadel would label "interpretive, substance-induced dancing", before making their way to a secluded room. The room was guarded by a sizable Batarian bouncer, and with a simple wave of the hand from the Asari, he opened the door, allowed the employee and customer through, and hung a "do not disturb" sign on the curtains covering the door.
It became clear to RJ that the Asari who had usurped his investigation was indeed an employee of the Kensetus Club, undercover or otherwise. Being that she was acquainted with the bouncer and had led him to a private room obviated the Asari's job role in the club, RJ also acknowledged that her sort were more often than not the prime sources of information.
The Asari beckoned RJ to take a seat, which RJ accepted. Now that the charade had been completed perhaps RJ could finally acquire some information of what he'd found in Milika's apartment. Revin had taken a seat beside RJ on the sofa which he sat on; a scowl still stitched to her face.
"Now that we won't be interrupted, may I interest you in a drink?" The Asari offered, her voice sounding much less confident, and much more somber.
"I had plenty before I came, I'd like to know now who you are, and why you brought me here" RJ retorted, wanting to set himself as the authoritative presence in the encounter. He wasn't as experienced in it as he'd hoped, that was usually Revin's role. She was the bad cop, he was the good cop.
The Asari overpoured her glass with some colorful alcohol from a nearby alcohol closet before walking to a sofa facing opposite to RJ. She made herself comfortable, seemingly ignoring RJ for a minute as she enjoyed the chemical bliss offered by her alcoholic concoction. Eventually RJ received his answer, and it would only drag him further down the rabbit hole.
"My name is Buija Yuvora, if I'm not mistaken your investigation my mother, Milika's murder, as well as your partners" She said dismissively, only making eye contact with the ice cubes in her drink.
RJ froze, a chill raising the hairs on his arms under his leather jacket. Revin's maw hung open, evidently this wasn't something either of them were aware of.
"That's not true, the report says Milika didn't have any children, wouldn't she be too young anyways?" RJ presented, thinking he'd caught the Asari in a trap.
"That's because legally I'm her sister, it wasn't something she liked talking about" Buija explained, between sizable gulps of her drink.
RJ stared at her in confusion, before turning his eyes to the ground in contemplation. Revin did much the same, until the explanation began to make sense.
"So…she was…y'know…trafficked?" Revin asked, which RJ spoke.
A single tear began to drop from the Asari's face, not a sob or even a whimper, just a tear. Buija wiped it with a finger and stood up to pour herself another drink. RJ stood just as she did and stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder.
This wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the galaxy at large.
It was a common practice of Batarian slavers to mark their captured property, usually in the most permanent way possible, and usually with Asari. It wasn't just a way to pacify them, pregnant women don't tend to fight their captors, but also a way to permanently enslave their victims.
In order to preserve the dignity of the families when the slaves were either repurchased or liberated, The Citadel government agreed to legally declare the children of the underage slaves as siblings. It might have caused problems in the future, but they higher-ups must have figured the former slaves had suffered enough.
It might have been the only time in which RJ had ever seen The Citadel government be logically merciful to those who deserved it, a very uncommon occurrence.
"But I was under the impression that Asari could only get pregnant if they wanted to?" RJ blurted out, not thinking about the timing of such an uncomfortable question.
The Asari gently shoved RJ's hand back, before returning to the alcohol cabinet and pouring herself another drink. She sipped this one a little more carefully, as if no longer needing the instant pain relief, and simply wanted to sustain her current bliss.
"It's a common misconception, Asari can choose in the moment whether or not to accept the growth of a child, but if their minds are inebriated with drinks, drugs, or sedatives, our minds don't recognize the mechanism, and our biology assumes the answer is yes" Buija answered as if she were a biology teacher, RJ assumed she'd given this speech many times to those she'd told, meaning she'd memorized the entire explanation word by word.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" RJ began his pathetic excuse of an apology.
"Don't worry about it, we were kind of like sisters anyways, and like I said…she didn't like to talk about it" Buija said more gently, placing her hand on RJ's shoulder as he had done to her, eliciting yet another scowl from Revin.
The two returned to their seats on the opposite sofas, Buija continued to sip her drink slowly, as RJ simply stared in response. He was unsure of how to continue this conversation, as he usually let Revin handle the interviews.
Sensing his uncomfortableness, Revin took control of the process, through RJ, and asked the questions from then on. It wasn't exactly like he traded his conciusness for hers, rather he just parroted Revin's words as his own.
"Well, you're right I am investigating you sister's death. I have reason to believe that a Turian called Certicus may be responsible for her death, do you know of anybody by that name?" Revin asked as RJ.
"We don't ask for names here, but I think I may have something that helps. About a month ago we were scheduled to entertain a singular Turian client, but when the guest arrived, my sister insisted on servicing him herself" Buija recalled, eyes shut in remembrance.
"That was out of the ordinary?"
"My mother and I were a "dual act", we would put on make up and matching outfits and pretend to be twins, it was our signature" Buija spoke, carefully choosing her words to save her dignity.
"I'm assuming this Turian wasn't much too pleased to only receive half of his purchase?"
"My mother convinced me to call in sick, so the club gave him a discount. Afterword, when I tried to talk to her about it, she simply said it was somebody she'd met before and didn't want knowing she had a "sister", I knew she was lying, but I didn't push it"
"Did you see this Turian, could you describe him?'
"They all kind of blend together after a while, especially in this business. But I do remember he didn't have purple markings, they were either red or cyan, and he wore standard Turian armor plating, like the sort you find at a thrift shop or something."
Revin who had been sitting close to RJ feeding him lines, stopped immediately in shock. RJ had done something similar; he knew that Revin had a cyan and red face mark too, but didn't immediately assume they were connected.
"RJ!" Revin began. "This doesn't make any sense, I come from one of the most prestigious tribes in all of Palaven, it is an excommunicable crime to be seen in a place like this, let alone wearing clothes from a thrift store"
"Everybody falls on hard times" RJ offered a potential explanation "besides, how did you get away with doing those things?"
"Everybody knew I was a rebel; besides I was part of a police force, everybody assumed it was part of my duty. Most of my tribe are politicians or entrepreneurs, they have their own strip clubs, the other Turians would beat the hell out of them, for intruding"
RJ returned his attention to the Asari he was interviewing, putting the description in the back of his mind to decipher later. When he returned his eye contact, Buija had a puzzled look on her face, like RJ had done something strange. RJ analyzed the past few seconds and realized that he'd talked to Revin in public, and obviously Buija saw him talking to himself.
"Uh…are you okay?" Buija asked.
"Uh…yeah, I talk to myself sometimes, it helps me remember things sometimes. Anyways, um… how did you know that I was a detective?"
"I was getting to that, about a week ago, like two days before Milika was killed, she came to me before work looking worried. I noticed and asked her what was wrong, but she just brushed it off as stage fright, in this business you lose stage fright very quickly. Then before we left for our shift, just out of nowhere, she gave me a picture of you, and said that sometime soon you'd show up looking for me."
RJ nodded his head with every sentence, taking in the ridiculous conspiracy that was slowly but surely making sense.
"I assumed you were a V.I.P. or something, but after she died, I put two and two together. Most people here can smell a cop from a mile away, but as long as they think you're in here enjoying me, you'll probably be okay"
RJ's worst fear had come true, one would think that after masquerading as criminals for drug deals and such for ten years would make a cop a master of disguise, but the Bane were a whole different animal. Buija had a point however, as long as his alibi was enjoying Buija's single act, nobody would bother him, he might even leave alive.
"Thank you for telling me this, I don't know how far this guy's hands reach. Do you have a safe place to stay for the next couple of days?" RJ asked, standing up and making his way to the door.
"Yeah, Milika and I lived in separate tenements, most people didn't even know we were sisters, I'll be okay. We fought the entire world off together with each other, I'll find a way to do it by myself"
RJ activated his Omni-Tool and prepared to give the Asari some credits, either for an informant fee, or a prostitute fee cover, either way he thought he should give her something.
Buija activated her Omni-Tool and rejected the payment, before walking closer to the blond-haired, baggy-eyed, scruffy detective.
"Keep it, you can pay me in another way. Promise you'll kill the son of a bitch who killed my mother!" She whispered angrily.
Buija gripped RJ's shoulders firmly and leaned in fast. She pressed her lips against his and closed her eyes. The kiss lasted for an entirety of ten seconds, it wasn't one of love or romance, but one of "good luck". Especially since RJ didn't close his eyes, and had a shocked expression as Buija preformed the motions with her lips.
In fear, RJ turned his eyes to the left to see Revin livid. Her eyes were squinted, her maw agape, and was vibrating in abject rage. RJ broke off the kiss, thanked her for her time, and exited the private room, discretely wiping his face with his jacked sleeve.
"Don't keep me waiting next time" Buija said poking her head out of the room, returning to her preset persona of club prostitute, to which RJ simply nodded and walked away.
As he stood in front of the room about to exit, he noticed Revin standing in front of him blocking his path. Paired with her murderous scowl, her arms were crossed and her feet firmly planted on the ground. RJ had never seen her so mad before.
"Don't give me that look, I didn't even enjoy it!" RJ squeaked awkwardly.
