Chapter 47: Too Good To Be True
Aria enjoyed the sensation rocketing through her body when power came to her for help. Now here in her 'audience chamber' was a Spectre and a Justicar wanting to know of all things the whereabouts of a fucking ardat-yakshi.
Finding out one of the creatures was on her station wasn't much as a surprise. Nothing kills like one of them. The brain of that poor stupid human girl had been utterly mush. Not that Aria took interest in the death of the average Omega citizen but when something odd happens, something far outside the ordinary the Pirate Queen took notice.
Weird gets all kinds of attention. Like a Cerberus assassin going after Paul Johnson, only he wasn't Johnson his name was Grayson. And if Aria hadn't sent her daughter off to Tevos, it would have been Liselle in Grayson's bed with her throat slit and not Elnora the little Eclipse bitch from Nos Austra.
Yes weird gets Aria's attention. She almost laughed when the Justicar asked her why the Pirate Queen hadn't taken measures to stop the ardat-yakshi. Aria gave a flippant if not dismissive answer:
"Why should I? She hasn't tried to seduce me." she smirked at the sheer disgust revealed on the matron's face. A Justicar she might be but Samara had no dominion here in the Terminus Systems and she well knew it. And Aria was by far her equal if not a superior biotic if it came down to a battle between them.
Aria was not harbouring the fugitive she simply hadn't done anything to move against Morinth. But once more that could be said for more then three-quarters of Omega's population. The asari didn't call the place' the Heart of all Evil' for nothing.
When Shepard and Samara turned to leave Aria waited until the Justicar was down the steps before she called out. "Shepard, hang back a minute."
The dark haired human stopped, turned and looked expectantly at the Pirate Queen.
"Yes?"
Aria laced her fingertips together and rested her arms on her belly as she crossed and recrossed her legs "You want to know what's worse than a monster?" she didn't wait for an answer before she gave her own. "A hero." Aria watched the expression cross the young human's face flicker into exasperation, not unlike a recruit being berated by a DI in Boot. Any reaction would be the wrong reaction, best not react at all.
Omega's Queen rose and stepped up to Shepard. She leaned in close, her voice a whisper. It would be her only warning "One mind to another. Embrace Eternity!"
It was not a meld as it had been before; Aria was by far more gentle, penetrating only the first layer of sub-consciousness. A touch not unlike a mentor with a protégée or a mother with a young daughter. A means to teach not to invade. But the all same the words etching into Shepard's mind were not a soft whisper.
'Heroism is just another word for horror and maybe a worse one. A hero always feels that they have to do what's right. Sometimes that leads to tormenting themselves with doubt long after the deed is done. People die of common sense, Shepard, one lost moment at a time. Life is a moment. There is no hereafter. So make it burn always with the hardest hottest flame. Drink deeply of everything. And if you recall nothing else I've told you, remember this. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing; but a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
'You, I fear are the worst sort of hero Shepard-one that is absolutely sincere. You won't have a very long life even for a human. So while you have it make it burn bright and hard. You are a woman of will, Shepard. I knew it from the first. It is the most remarkable thing about you. The will to survive, the will to overcome all obstacles placed in your path and the boorish however exquisite need to will the universe free of monsters. I sincerely hope you win, for all our sakes.'
Aria pulled her mind back so suddenly Shepard felt a wave of dizziness and nausea take her hostage. Though not for long, certainly not like the last time she had melded with Aria, which had left Shepard with a splitting headache for days. Aloud yet still for Shepard's ears only the asari said: "So don't get yourself fucking killed going after a damned brain-sucker."
Aria owed Liselle's life to Shepard. While she had taken Wasea from her in fair-combat, her favored child was alive and well. It was for this reason Aria allowed the small measure of sentimentality for her pet. It was unlikely to happen again.
In deference to this monumental moment between them the Commander did the only thing she could. She touched the fingertips of her right hand to her forehead and brought hand down palm upwards. Silently she turned a 180 and left the Pirate Queen's dais. She had after-all a job to perform.
ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME
The girl Nef lived in an apartment with her mother Diana very close to the Gozu District where the plague had broken out months ago. When Shepard and her team-mates passed the apartment the first time on the way to recruit Mordin, Shepard never gave a second glance to the third-rate slum.
Even the apartments in the Gozu District that Shepard and her team saw were at least a higher scale then this two- room hovel. Hell her quarters aboard the Normandy seemed by far larger then the place Nef and her mother Diana called home. At one time or another, this space would have been nothing more than a storage area—at best.
How desperate do you have to be to take up residence in a dump like this and willingly call it home? Shepard had no wish to prolong Diana's torment. She kept the investigation into the poor girl's life as low-key as possible. Nef apparently was a very talented artist something Samara picked up on right way.
Morinth liked her prey as creative and passionate as possible. Through the diaries Shepard learned that Morinth liked artists especially the elcor sculptor named Forta, taking drugs such as haliex and the all-time popular fem-slash asari / human gangster movie Vaenia. Most important off all the investigation revealed that the password for Afterlife's VIP lounge were Nef had last been seen, was Jarut.
After promising the grieving mother that justice would be dealt, Samara and Shepard left the apartment. Diana's tears rocked Shepard deeply: flashes of what was her daughter, that tiny creature in her arms bereft of life. Diana held her own baby like that, her child destroyed. Not for petty revenge but because an addiction. Diana was a woman, who so struggled to make ends meet she couldn't even get out of Omega's skid row. How was she to seek justice for her child's murder if not for a Spectre and a Justicar's intervention?
However if the pair wanted to be remotely successful in fulfilling the mission of apprehending Morinth, much planning had to be made before that even came to fruition.
Once outside the Nef and Diana's apartment Shepard turned to Samara. "We can't go on like this. My face is too well know, that salarian named Phish and his buddy knew my face just when I passed by. What my crew and I did here to stop the plague, the battle at Archangel's Apartment got my face noticed, more than usual. I can't do this as Samantha Shepard: Spectre and Commander."
"You are suggesting a disguise. A wise measure and a prudent one given the circumstances." Samara agreed. They talked as they walked back to Normandy's berth
"And I have the perfect one." Shepard offered a lopsided grin. "Meet Alison Gunn. It was the nom de guerre Kasumi made up for that heist at Donavan Hock's place. If Morinth does recognize my face I can blame it on the cover and spread Badass Weekly. Easily explainable and probably all the better if she does.
Again an approving smile flashed on the older woman's face. "Shepard, Morinth is incredibly cagey woman. If she sees me will run and all will be lost and I cannot allow that. When you go in to that club I can not follow and you can not go armed."
"Not even a holdout weapon?"
Samara shook her head.
"A person that hunts sentient beings for sport is incredibly dangerous." Shepard said with no trace of fear in the timbre of her voice. If nothing else at the very least she had her biotics.
"You will never be truly be alone, I will be very near-by. I promise you."
It was Shepard's turn to nod her head, she trusted the Justicar unwaveringly. "Alright, so I get into the club then what?"
"You are a bondmated to an asari; you know the signs of arousal before our eyes become black, you know the touches that entice."
There was a coy smile on Shepard's face; she knew exactly which magic zones to touch to get those beautiful blues to go all dark. Only then of course did Sam go anywhere near azure. "I do." she admitted.
The second fold in the neck was a particular hot-spot. It was a slow seductive dance when an asari turned her neck to a potential lover. Sam knew it was one of Liara's favourite spots and admittedly the Consort responded very well to such a touch. Case in point it was the Consort that showed Shepard just how responsive the neck folds were. If she had to buy time once in Morinth's lair Sam would play the dance until Samara made a show.
First things first: the disguise was in order. Oh the skin lightening alteration was easy as was the green contact lenses and red wig. But the dress she wore at Donavan Hock's dinner party never made it back to the ship thus into Shepard's personal wardrobe.
Getting a dress was only a matter of sending out the very woman who acquired the dress Shepard had first worn to Hock's party. Kasumi knew her size, exact measurements and shoe size and so the thief was sent to acquire the new set of garments.
Sam knew in Omega she needed something a bit more rough and hard as well as sensual than the run of the mill come-fuck-me dress. What she wore at Hock's wouldn't cut it in the VIP lounge of After Life. For that she needed to borrow a few things from both Miranda and Jack. From the ex-con Sam needed the Harley drive-chain belt they had picked up at the shop on the Citadel. If added correctly the ensemble it would be striking and a symbol of defiant power. From Miranda, Shepard needed her knee length black boots the loyalist favoured. She needed to ooze sex-appeal and strength. And above all that she was someone who was dangerous.
Everything Morinth desired.
Two hours later in Shepard's quarter's six women gathered, readying for the next mission. Shepard took on the guise of Alison Gunn once more. She was just now strapping on the chain-belt Jack had allowed her to use.
"Still wearing it good, Shep." Kasumi grinned. "Or I should say Miss Gunn. Can I pick the look or can't I?"
"This is of your design?" the Justicar asked.
Kasumi nodded. "Yep. Shep would have gotten way too noticed if she went to Hocks as herself and in armor. This was the only way to get her in."
"Damn Shepard, I'll say you make one hell of femme fatale. Seriously fuckable." Jack said with a smirk. Which gained her a wicked look from Miranda. "What?" there was a hapless shrug from the tattooed woman. "Admit it, she is."
Begrudgingly Lawson did indeed agree. "You do look very fetching in that guise."
"As opposed to my normal look" Teased Shepard.
"That is not what I meant at all." Miranda defensively denied any such allegation.
"Relax Lawson," Tali chuckled "She's just giving you a hard time."
The other women including Samara joined in the merriment.
"As if I needed any more aggravations." a pointed look was shot to Jack. They had both decided to keep what happened between them a day earlier to themselves. Nether woman wanted it broadcasted they had come not exactly lovers but not wholly fuck-buddies. They didn't know that it was and rather than trying to analyze or look too closely to their strange relationship it was also decided to just play it out.
"Maybe not, but couldn't hurt to lighten up a little. TIMmy isn't here to spy on your every move Miranda. No need to play the whole-uptight Queen of Ice all the time." Shepard smirked as she looked in the mirror to ensure the wig was fitted properly.
The only answer was a harrumph.
"Stop fussing, it's perfect," tutted the thief.
"Yeah guess so." Shepard looked back at the woman in the mirror who was not at all her. Red hair, green eyes, prominent splash of freckles across the nose and both cheeks, pale skin-looking far more Irish then a half-blooded Native American. But that was the whole point of the disguise, to be Alison Gunn not Samantha Shepard.
"You will draw her eye." Samara reassured the Spectre.
"Yeah well we're not just going for the look; I have to get her attention. It isn't enough I know what to touch on in small talk but I have to get invited to share a drink with her."
"She is attracted to artists and creators. Someone with a spark, slightly isolated from their peers. She impresses with sophistication and sex appeal. Then she strikes. The hunt interests her as much as the conquest."
"She kills with sex; I don't plan on sleeping with her, Samara." Shepard said.
"Perhaps you have a reason to be glib Shepard, but be cautious. Morinth speaks to you on many levels. Her body tells yours that she will bring unimaginable ecstasy. Her scent evokes emotions long hidden. Her eyes promise you things you were always scared to ask of another, even your bondmate. Her voice whispers to you after she is done speaking."
"Sounds like my kind of asari." Jack piped up, her cheeky grin gaining yet another scathing look from Miranda. It had not gone unnoticed by the others, though the cause of it was not was they might have assumed.
"You joke Jack, but for all her might Shepard will be in great danger. Morinth will be watching. Like any predator, she is cautious. You must pique her interests enough that she will approach you. When you are face to face subtly encourage her to invite you to her apartment.
"I'll follow discreetly and when you are alone I will spring the trap. Until I get there you will be in great peril, Shepard. She will be planning to inflict great horrors on you; if you are not careful you will want her to."
"So how do I spark her interests when I'm not talking to her?"
Very pointedly Samara said. "Courage or suicidal bravery will attract her."
"Shepard's got that in spades." Tali praised. "She charges in to the rescue whenever some innocent lands into trouble."
Samara knew this to be more than true. She had seen this with her own eyes. "Hurt someone in defence and she will be excited, but pick a fight and she will be bored." continued Samara.
The other woman nodded. So far so good, Shepard hadn't earned the name Queen of the Girl Scouts for nothing.
"Show skill in working smoothly though a nightclub. She will be intrigued. She will want you the moment she sees you. The rest is a matter of overpowering her caution."
"You've got a silver tongue Shepard but I'd refrain from dancing if I were you, the goal is to get her attention not turn it away." Tali advised good naturedly. It was well established fact that Shepard simply had no sense of rhythm when it came to the dance floor.
"I love the support I'm getting here." Shepard offered a sardonic replay. "So how do I get her to take me home?" Shepard asked. "I mean...we're not talking about picking up a run of the mill chick from a bar. And I didn't have to work that hard for Liara's attentions."
The others looked at her with strange expressions on their face, a mix of scoffing bemusement and mild mockery.
"I mean Liara was easy." Shepard rolled her own eyes as she had not meant it the way it sounded. "I didn't mean it like that," she repeated her inner voice's scolding. "I mean talking to Liara, just being with her was easy. Her passion about talking about the past, the Protheans was easily to get wrapped up in."
"Maybe you should stop before you dig into deep there, Shep." Kasumi
"You know she was just into you because of the beacons." Jack said.
"I actually asked her that," Shepard said with a shrug, "she said at first maybe that was the initial attraction, then she got to know me. Got curious. The rest is none of your business. Any of you."
The other women snickered
The Spectre nodded. "Point taken. Nef pinged Morinth's radar. You know her best Samara, what does she want in her prey?"
"Morinth admires strength, directness and vigour. Modestly, chivalry or meekness frustrate and bore her. Violence excites her. You've killed Shepard—she'll like that."
"Just try not to blow anything up." added Miranda.
"Oh aren't you funny. I'll have you know not every mission ends up explosively." the tone became slightly cool, "I have to say though getting Morinth alone then falling in her sway that will require careful timing.
"I will be near and I will come for you Shepard. Trust me as I trust and honor you."
"Let's get started them." the 'red-head' said.
For a moment it looked as if Samara was going to reach out for the Spectre but she stopped herself, and yet her words had the same effect. "Shepard, we only get one chance at this. Any mistake and Morinth will disappear. If you are the least be unsure come talk to me, I will be waiting for you outside Afterlife's VIP lounge."
ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME
Over her four hundred years since she fled Thessia, Morinth had had many lovers. So many she had lost count after the first thousand. Most of them were of her own people. But lately the young matron desired human. There was something incredible about them, powerful like dragon-fire. Hot, fast, bright. Nef burned brightly in her very short life.
Morinth could still feel...still taste that sweet little artist. It left the ardat-yakshi wanting more of the same. Her blood cried out for more of that human fire, that passion. Trawling the shoals of Afterlife's population hadn't produced much in the last couple of days.
Perhaps that was all about to change with this red-head who had just passed though the doors. She carried herself like a huntress. This one had seen battle that much was obvious. Fire-Mane paused at the door for a moment to speak with a human male before entering the club proper. There was something peculiar about her. Her aura vibrant, pulsating, powerful and all too blinding. If she looked away she could still see the halo of Flame-Mane's essence. It was like looking at sun then looking away—and still seeing the pink-white spot when you screwed your eyes shut.
Morinth stepped in and out of the shadows discretely trailing after this new human. The boots were not something she commonly wore, Morinth noted. This huntress was far more comfortable in something like combat boots that much was obvious. Her first steps were heavy like she carried a weight, responsibility; command Fire-mane was indeed a warrior.
But warriors can be thugs—brutes. Brutes bored her; Morinth had no time for their ilk. So just what sort of warrior was Fire-Mane that burned like a sun?
Without a second look behind her, Fire-Mane made her way towards the dance floor. She ignored the maiden Waera who always seemed to want company to dance with. Not that Morinth blamed Fire-Mane, while pretty enough the maiden was nothing special. She didn't make a blip on Morinth's radar. The only reason she knew maiden's name was for the fact Waera had tried to come to her, almost begging to be in elder asari's company. She was denied of course. Beauty only went so far.
Oh four hundred years ago when she first was free, Morinth wasn't as picky. As she grew older her tastes became more refined—more selective. But as always as it was with her very first lover Morinth was drawn to the power of creation-imagination. She was pulled always to the brave—to those that looked at the face of danger and laughed. She was drawn to champions.
Fire-Mane paused in her wanderings though the dance-floor. Morinth turned to see what gave this delicious looking human cause to stop. But she needn't have bothered; she could hear the commotion from her secluded spot. Once more that odious lout Meln was harassing yet another stripper. This one was named Halla, she had issues with Meln before but security was quick to respond. Halla was after all one of Aria's chosen pets. She was no doubt sent to the VIP quarter to listen in on patrons while she danced for them and then relate anything of relevance to the Pirate Queen. This time however it appeared security were otherwise engaged.
Fire-mane however took a very keen interest in the distress of the fair maiden. Meln however wasn't all that keen in listening to the human's warnings to back off and leave the dancer alone. Morinth felt the revelled in how swiftly the turian was dispatched. Fire-Mane didn't even utilize her biotics to overthrow the lecherous male.
Fire-Mane didn't bask in the praise the stripper gave her; she nodded her head and moved off as if it was nothing more a trivial matter. She didn't rise to the bait with the krogan who talked trash about humans. There was a time Morinth might have considered Verf as a viable prospect but he was more primal thug than warrior. He provoked nothing in her, nothing in the blood.
Fire-Mane passed by two other turians plotting muggings as they had for the past three days. The snippets of information gleaned from overhearing conversations at first intrigued the huntress. The pair of them: Vertin and Huck belonged to a small time syndicate under another turian's name Hink. They ran red-sand, hallex amongst other things. They were into dangerous things, going to dangerous places, taking risks. All of it thrills, but when it came down to it, they were not worth ravishing. They were transitory beasts of little imagination and no creative impulses.
While the would-be muggers didn't hold Fire-Mane's interests, the plight of investigative undercover journalists did. Morinth didn't care for the name of the male in so much as his partner's. Moirall had a suicidal bravery which the ardat-yakshi found delicious. Add to the fact she was a writer even more so. While Morinth preferred authors who created works of literature she sometimes settled for those that wrote factual pieces.
Fire-Mane went out of her way to help this reporter to get away from Florit. The man was small time comparably to the rest of Omega and in the Terminus but he was as dangerous as any of the merc leaders on this Heart of Evil. Perhaps there was a bit more danger to him than established leaders, as he was trying to prove that not only he but his crew were worthy of notoriety.
Fire-Mane didn't even give the danger a second thought as she warned the writer of her plight. Florit was planning to slit her pretty little throat as soon as they both left the club. The gang leader knew who and what she was. Fire-Mane gave the prescribed warning and the writer made her excuses that she needed to use the toilet and fled the club. Another life rescued.
Morinth slipped in and out of shadows, out of the crowd. Watching, the more she watched the more she felt her desires rise. Brave, gallant, beautiful she was ticking all the boxes. She was drawn in like the sands of the shore being pulled in by the tides. Morinth drew closer and closer.
Fire-Mane went right for Edwin the head barkeep of the VIP club. So what sort of libations did her quarry take? Strong? Hard? Smooth and refined? That's when she heard it. An asari maiden and two turian females were talking about a woman named Alison Gunn; they were all looking at Fire-Mane. So that was her name...
One of the turians wondered if they could get Gunn to autograph her copy of Badass Weekly. The one thing Morinth did not do was to share. And she had no desires to lose this delectable piece of finery to some turian slattern.
The decision to take her was fully made when Alison managed to secure a round on the house by just a few dropped words into Edwin's ear. Bored people didn't necessarily drink. A round on the house would liven things up and get people buying more drinks. It worked like a charm and the whole club cheered.
Alison walked a way with a Serrice Iced-Brandy—neat. That's when Morinth decided to pounce. She slinked up to the prey enjoying the view her approach gave. She knew just how to pitch her voice for this one, how to stand, and the right curl to the lips.
Morinth leaned most of her weight on her back as she rested against a partition that separated the bar from the open tables to the more private booths. Perfectly positioned to block Alison's path as she was walking by.
In a casual tone she began the introductions. "My name is Morinth. I've been watching you. You're the most interesting person in this place." she flashed her more charming smile. "I've got a booth over her in the shadows. Why don't you come sit with me?"
The human looked at her for a moment, smiled back and nodded. "Alison." She said her name smoothly. Then stepped closer. "Lead the way."
Morinth's chosen booth was the same as it was every night. The other patrons tended to leave the table open for her as if on instinct or out of respect or fear. It didn't matter, their reasons, it was Morinth's prime territory. She already had a bottle of Serrice Iced Brandy waiting for her return.
She lifted her chin indicating for Alison to take the seat opposite hers. As soon as they sat, Morinth became the slow seduction in order to lure her prey in. The right words, pitch of voice, a slight purr and Alison would be hers. However despite everything she had seen and heard, the 'interview' had just begun.
"Some nights I come here and there's no one interesting to talk to. Some nights, there's just one person." she tilted her weight ever so slightly allowing the combat leathers to creak as if she knew on instinct Gunn was the type who liked asari in leather. "Tonight that's you. Why is that?"
Alison again looked at Morinth, she delivered a lopsided smile. "You tell me."
Morinth giggled. "I can't tell you why you're special." she shook her head coyly.
Alison's own voice dropped into a purr. "What do you think of the music here?" she asked avoiding answering Morinth's original question.
"Dark rhythms, violent pulses. It s stirs something primitive in me. What about you?"
"Actually I'm interested in this new band called Expel 10, heard of them? They're some sort of sensory band"
Morinth grinned. "I do. They're playing here in a few days, I've got tickets. Perhaps we should go together."
"I'd like that." Alison said as she reached for her snifter and took a slow steady sip.
"You can lose yourself in the music here. There are ways to enhance that you know?"
A soft smoky whisper. "What do you think of Hallex?"
Morinth's grin became serpentine. "It slithers though my soul. Seems like we share some interests."
"Seems like." Alison's smile was full of teeth. "Speaking of slithering and soul...what do you know about art?"
"It speaks to the darkest places in me. What about you?"
Another sip. "Do you know the artist Forta?"
"Soul-slithering indeed." Morinth was actually surprised by the question. "I didn't think anyone around here knew about him. He's sublime." Morinth was generally becoming aroused by the presence of her Fire-Mane. "Art comes in many varieties. I've seen vids that were more powerful than a sculpture sitting in a gallery."
"I know what you mean. Take Vaenia for instance. Power, excitement, an extraordinary plot that sucks you in, the characters...all that dark-energy..." she smiled. "Not mass effect energy I mean..."
"I know what you meant. Of course the violence in vids seems fake to me. I don't see the point."
"I sensed it. You're acquainted with the real thing." Alison's voice dripped whisky smooth.
"As are you." she smiled.
"Ah... yes...that article in Badass Weekly." She almost sounded bored.
"To tell you the truth I haven't read it. And that wasn't what interested me in you. Though now I may have to read it." Morinth chuckled softly, extending the slack on the lure. "So you've travelled then."
"All over the galaxy."
"It changes you doesn't it"
A slight nod of those ember colored locks. "Real travel means going to dangerous places..."
"Where you can see and do things, most people can't imagine." Morinth finished the human's sentence.
An almost shy smile as if Alison was trying very hard not to show her own attraction and growing arousal. "Yes."
"When I travel, I find myself drawn to dark, dangerous places."
"Violent places?"
"Violence is the surest expression of power." Morinth returned. Her words carefully chosen now. Testing. Toying with the bait.
"Power is its own reward; strength is only a means to that power." Alison said, the novice taking a defiant edge as if challenging Morinth to disagree with her. What Alison didn't know was she had just passed the final test.
The ardat-yakshi gave the fullness of her most seductive smile. "Do you want to get out of here? My apartment is nearby, and I want you alone."
Alison slammed the rest of her drink, rose and waited for Morinth to do like wise. As they walked out, Alison placed her hand on the small of Morinth's back just above the tail bone. The asari grinned at the touch. To show her approval she reached up and knowing how it affected Nef, she brushed her fingers just behind the human's shell like ear. She could almost hear the hammering excitement in the human's heart—so delicious...
All too easy.
ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME~ ME
Unlike the poorer residents of Omega, like Nef and her mother Morinth's apartment was in the high-end of the Tuhi District. In fact the home could have easily been a loft found in Nos Austra's Upper East Side rather than on a ancient space station.
Morinth was well pleased with the place, when she found the place on an extranet reality site. The rent was reasonable as were the protection rates the Talons were demanding. Morinth like the place so much she had in fact had some of her favourite belongings shipped there months ahead of time before she departed Illium.
Omega was a place Morinth could become lost in for quite some time. As long as she didn't break Omega's one rule, it was a free run on prey. Thestation was a veritable smorgasbord. And sometimes you got lucky and crossed paths with someone like Nef or Alison Gunn.
Now it was Morinth's turn to place her hand passively at her Fire-Mane's back, precisely the same place Alison had touched her. She continued to rub her thumb along the human's vertebra knowing that like asari human women found the touch quite stimulating. Going by the hitch in Alison's breath, Morinth was doing exactly that.
"Good looking blade." Alison said as Morinth gave the half-credit tour of her apartment. "From the Isle of Erathelle on Thessia is it not?"
"You know your asari blades." Morinth was impressed.
"What can I say I like well crafted weaponry. Swords especially. You might say I am a bit of a collector."
"Truly?"
An honest nod. "I even favour the biotic slash to the shockwave for attacks. There is nothing like sending the force of your blade through dark-energy into your enemy." Alison grinned. "Of course up-close and personal is good too. A biotic shadow strike with an omni-blade is perfect. And they never expect it." a prideful shrug.
Morinth smirked. "I was into duelling for a while. I love that moment you see in your opponent's face and he knows you're better and he's going to die." Morinth whispered as she leaned in and nuzzled the human's neck as she would have her own species. Something in this human called to her. She couldn't explain it but it was as if Alison was more asari than human however impossible that was.
Morinth looked once more and was almost blinded by the sheen in Alison's aura. She was powerful to be sure. Dominating a will as strong as hers would be a challenge: a welcome one. Oh but to touch a mind like that for how brief...would be beyond sheer ecstasy.
Morinth almost found herself wishing to touch Alison's mind as any other asari, to touch and not...No! Such sentimentality was a weakness, an abhorrent one. Alison was special to be sure, but there could be nothing more then the brief elated moments she shared with her. But before she died, Morinth vowed to give Alison the rapture she never even dreamed of.
Morinth guided her guest past the great bay windows that over looked the 'skyline' of downtown Omega. From this place she could see the tips of Afterlife, and Omega- Trust, the bank which Aria had several holdings, amongst other notable Omegian landmarks. On the table near the planter was a bottle of hallex.
Morinth noted that Alison eye-balled it. "Have one if you want but wouldn't rather have all your senses be clear and sharp right now?" she whispered into other woman's ear. Her voice now a purr. "I know I certainly do."
The bottle was ignored just as Morinth knew it would be. "Of course. With you Morinth, I think the sharper the better."
The asari grinned and planted a tender kiss on the Alison's jaw, just under her ear. Another spot she knew human's enjoyed being touched with the softness of lips. It was distracting enough for Morinth to guide Alison up the small flight of stairs to a statue of a krogan warrior. You had to look closely to know it was actually a female. In fact it was supposed to be Shi'ahger the female battlemaster and clan chief. It was the statue that led Morinth to her little Nef. For it was she who was the sculptor though not the one that gave her the statue.
"A gift from a suitor. The statue's got more personality than he did. Still he impressed me enough that he finally got what he wanted."
"Did he now?" Alison whispered hoarsely returning the nuzzle to her neck with one of her own. Boldly the ruby lips grazed the third fold in Morinth's neck making her shiver
"Hmm...It didn't end the way he hoped."
"So few things do." came a sage answer. Green eyes glanced over to the chess game—the human variety. When the red eyebrow went up in questioning surprise or at least that was how the asari interpreted the human expression
Morinth answered the unasked question. "I love any game where your opponent believes he is about to win just before you kill him."
"How sagaciously strategic." Quipped the redhead with a scandalously flirtatious smile.
While there was a large sofa set on the upper tier, Morinth guided Alison back down to the more cosy set on the first floor. "I love clubs—people, movement, heat. I can still hear the bass, like the drums of a great hunt, out for your blood."
Alison sat back, her leg rested on the other in a figure four, a more militant pose than feminine as Morinth sat. It came so naturally, Gunn hadn't even thought of it. Morinth couldn't have cared she enjoyed the femmes as well as the more butch females of most species. Nef was most certainly a femme but Alison well there was no mistaking her far more butch tendencies.
Morinth sat more poised, demure and she knew how much it was affecting Alison. She liked what she saw. No doubt the woman had met and then like everyone else had little fantasies centring around Omega's Queen. It was why to some extent Morinth had adopted Aria's mannerisms.
"But here," she continued her narrative "it's muted—and you're safe. Is that what you want Alison?"
"I rather fight than hide."
"Yes. Better take control of your fate." there was now more ice to Morinth's voice as if she was speaking of her own fate, of why she ran from Thessia four centuries ago, rather than what was laying in for this human huntress. "I've never understood the fascination with safety. Some of us choose differently." Why was she thinking of her sisters? Now? of all times? Rila and Falere chose safety rather than to run. When she was still Mirala, she pleaded, beggared the twins to follow her, to run rather than to submit to that fucking Code, to be shunned and shipped away to be forgotten about on Lesuss.
Morinth didn't like where her mind was taking her. She rose and sat upon Alison's lap. "Independence over submission. I think we share that, you and I."
Alison smirked her hand going to Morinth's thigh. "You compare us but you're nowhere near my league."
The ardat-yakshi ginned in relief and pleasure. "So strong. I need this."
"We've both killed many times but that's where the similarities end."
"Why do you say I've killed?" Morinth was taken aback, her lips pulled into a frown. "What do you know? Let's stop playing games."
"You said it. The duelling, the game of chess 'I love any game where your opponent believes he is about to win just before you kill him.' You've killed." The red head offered a lopsided smirk. "You don't talk about the Great Hunt, the bass, and heat, the pounding of the blood, unless you've taken lives, Morinth"
The asari relaxed for a moment. "Perhaps I say too much." she shifted so she was now straddling the human. Her eyes becoming black. her mind tendrilling outwards, almost connecting with Alison's. Touching briefly, using the power of domination over her, to lure her in even more so. She had to strike at the perfect moment for the sensation to fulfil her. This woman be far beyond Nef's little beautiful creative mind. The young maiden was delicious but Alison was going to be exquisite.
"Look into my eyes. Tell me you want me. Tell me you'd kill for me. Anything I want."
"I don't think so, Morinth" Alison said
The sharp rejection startled Morinth back from the inner-self to the now "But you-who are you?" realization dawned on Morinth. She was being played. She had been all along. She should have known from the start just how tailor made Allison Gunn had been for her. All the right responses, all the right interests...everything just so perfect.
Alison pushed Morinth off her lap making her slip onto the sofa cushion beside her. In transfixed fascination, she watched as the human -reached up to her scalp and removed her hair...no...not hair...it was a wig...the red mane was as fake as the person wearing it. The mane underneath was as jet black as her eyes had been only moments ago.
She recognized the face...but couldn't place it...So familiar...why was it familiar? "I see what's going on. The bitch herself found a little helper." Morinth snarled the words.
"She has. Commander Samantha Shepard, Council Spectre." the words were followed by a mock salute. Well that explained the damned curiously bright aura surrounding the huntress.
"SPECTRE?!" Morinth was outraged. At herself for being so easily duped and to her deceitful Fire-Mane for being so fucking perfect. All this time running from her bitch mother Justicar right into the arms of a Spectre. Oh the irony.
At that precise moment the front door to the apartment opened. Morinth looked up to see none other than her mother striding in. The old bitch's body glimmering in biotic power. Only one word – her alias - was uttered as curse, before she was lifted and slammed so hard into the picture window behind her, the glass spider-webbed.
Morinth grunted in pain the wind nearly taken from her lungs. She managed to hiss out an equal curse. "Mother."
Another slam. Harder this time. "Do not call me THAT!"
Morinth was crucified against the glass. "I can't choose to stop being your daughter. Mother." came a snarl.
"You made your choice long ago!"
Morinth summed her own biotics; the fullness of her power rippled her ever nerve ending and she sprang free from the window. "What choice?!" she snarled once more. She lifted her mother and a nearby chair into the air only to slam the chair into her mother's body then drop them both to the floor. "My only crime was to be born with the gifts you gave me." pure unaltered rage dripped like venom from her lips.
"Enough, Morinth!" the words were harsh and almost a plea." Samara sent a warp into younger asari that sent her daughter spiralling away and back to the floor. Allowing Samara enough time to regain her feet.
The respite in battle wasn't to last long, Morinth reeled to her feet whipped a warp field towards her mother who met the pulse with one of her own. Stalemating each other, like the same sides of magnets repulsing one another.
"I am the genetic destiny of the asari. But they are not ready to reveal this, so I must die!" Morinth raged.
The field of dark energy was growing and growing causing all the furniture not bolted down to rise up and orbit the duelling huntresses like small satellites.
"You are a disease to be purged. Nothing more." What was more terrifying to hear the words was that Samara believed them. She had forced herself to believe them four hundred years ago. Mirala was long since dead.
Morinth was struggling to hold her mother at bay. She knew without intervention from the great Commander Shepard she might very well lose this contest of will. "I heard of your quest Shepard. I am as strong as she is. Let me join you."
Samara countered the plea-bargain. "I am already sworn to you, Shepard. Let us finish this." she was struggling to keep her daughter at bay.
There was no question in the Spectre's heart. Double-crossing Samara never even entered her mind. She erected her own barrier, grabbed Morinth's arm and yanked it back. "End of the line Morinth." she said almost casually.
"And they call me a monster!" Morinth looked at the human deceiver. They were the last words she uttered. Her body was flung hard into a warp- flare. She felt her ribcage snap under the pressure. There would be no running this time.
Her last thoughts... I love any game where your opponent believes he is about to win just before you kill him...
She rolled over, crabwalked backwards but her mother was on top of her in a thrice, the ruby gauntleted fist clutching her throat.
The last words she heard belonged to her mother: "Find peace in the Embrace of the Goddess." the first was poised. An explosion of utter agony, and then...
... It was done.
Four hundred years of chasing of hunting, stalking... finally over.
The stillness in apartment was nothing compared to the deafening nothing echoing in Samara's heart. There in death was Mirala, her precious little Mirala, gone was the monster that was known as Morinth.
"I am ready to leave this place and get on with my life." She said in an equally hollow tone.
"Samara... if you need a moment, if you want to talk about what happened..." Shepard said softly. They were the words of one mother to another. Shepard was lost in what should happen next. When Secura died she was in a fog. And though others tried to offer condolences a shoulder there was...nothing...just nothing.
That nothing was listless and growing in Samara blue orbs. "Shepard. What so you think I will say? What can I say? I just killed the bravest and smartest of my daughters. There are no words."
No there wasn't any words. There were none when Little Sparrow was taking why would there be now with Morinth...?
"I will try another time." A grieving tone laced Samara's words. "For now, show mercy to a broken old warrior and let us leave."
Shepard nodded. Without saying a word she went up to Morinth's bed took off the quilt and covered the body. It was no burial shroud the gesture and meaning behind it was not lost on the shattered Justicar.