Chapter Thirty-Four
Noodles with a View
London, Earth
Sweat trickled down the back of Lucy Park's neck, but her body's reaction had little to do with the heat. She was nervous and more than a little terrified. It was the dead of night…or very early morning. Whichever way she chose to look at it, it was past curfew and her bedtime. Not to mention the fact that they – herself, Susannah, and Anderson – were in a part of London that had yet to be rebuilt after the war. Destruction and despair lingered amid the ruins. It served as a reminder of what had almost become of their entire civilisation. The clogged streets and shells of buildings offered shelter from Alliance patrols, but also shadows to hide society's unwanted remnants. The elements of humanity that were only ever a moment from being swept away in the face of progress.
"Luce, stop looking as though you're about to pee your pants," Susannah said quietly.
It was the worst thing Susannah could have chosen to say. It made Lucy realise that she did need the bathroom. She delivered a baleful stare in her wife's direction that illustrated exactly how unimpressed she was. Then Susannah flashed a quick grin - she'd only been trying to put Lucy at ease. Lucy tried to relax in response. It wasn't as though this was her first dog and pony show. Anderson had lugged her sorry, wounded butt through enemy lines during the war. Of course that was surpassed by the time she'd clung to the side of the Crucible before being plucked to safety by one of the Normandy's shuttles.
Lucy glanced across to Anderson. The former Admiral had almost completely melded into the shadows on the opposite side of the alley. Although barely two weeks had passed since he'd been wounded evading Alliance pursuers, he had kept up with her and Susannah easily all evening. Instead Lucy was the one who had struggled the most. She knew she didn't need to be there – standing in the dark, scared. Susannah could have accompanied Anderson. However the thought of her wife making her way home alone was more than enough reason for Lucy to be pleased she'd tagged along. Plus it was a little bit exciting.
The dull glow of Susannah's omni-tool briefly lit both their faces.
"Our contact's ten minutes late. Do you think we should abort, sir?" Susannah still deferred to Anderson even though they'd both been discharged from the SA. Anderson under a cloud of suspicion and treachery, Susannah due to the injuries she'd suffered during the war.
"He'll be here. If Hannah Shepard vouches for him, then he'll be here," Anderson replied staunchly.
Lucy shared a brief look with Susannah even though they could barely see one another. Both were thinking the same thing. They were placing a hell of a lot of trust in people they'd never met.
Rumbling in the distance suddenly seized Lucy's attention. Night patrol. Susannah gave her hand a brief squeeze. This offered a measure of comfort, but Lucy needed to check the weight of the pistol tucked inside her jacket. Anderson didn't move a muscle.
Lucy regretted that the ex-Admiral had to leave them at all. She genuinely enjoyed his company. Over the past weeks, they had reminisced about their time spent together during the war. For once it had been Lucy's turn to regale Susannah with war stories that seemed too far-fetched to be real. And here you are, lurking in an alley with a wanted fugitive, waiting for a total stranger who may or may not show up. Lucy was unsure which she needed most – the toilet or some of Nick Traynor's homemade gin.
A sudden rasping sound near their feet caused both her and Susannah to jump, simultaneously drawing their weapons. Even Anderson reacted – although in his case he moved forward, towards the sound.
"Sir!" Susannah hissed a warning.
"It's okay. It's our man." As though he hadn't recently been shot, Anderson began pulling at the stubborn manhole cover until it rolled aside completely.
From below, a pair of shining white teeth gleamed in the darkness. "Evening all. Nice night to be out?" came the cheery whisper.
Susannah tucked away her pistol, reaching out to help a lanky and very dirty man out of the hole.
"Mack I presume?" Anderson asked.
The two shook hands warmly. "None other." 'Mack' turned towards Lucy and Susannah. "Pericles Macklin. It's a pleasure to meet you both."
"Where are you taking Anderson, Mr Macklin?" Susannah asked bluntly, eyeing up Mack's outstretched hand as though it concealed a weapon. "And who exactly do you work for?"
"Ah, one young lady not easily impressed by my charm," Mack replied. Lucy tried to place his accent. She guessed that he was Australian. "I'm escorting Anderson to a safe location, and as to whom I work for, I work for myself. Although I do take orders from time to time from Hannah Shepard…and another interested party."
"That tells me absolutely nothing," Susannah replied irritably.
"The less you know, the better." Mack shook his head, indicating that his lips were sealed.
"Well, we want in," Susannah announced suddenly. "The resistance, whatever you're calling it. Lucy and I want in."
"We do?" Lucy couldn't conceal her surprise. Susannah elbowed her. "Oh right, we do."
"You've both already done more than enough," Anderson joined in. "You're exactly where you need to be – offering a safe house, protecting those around you. The time may come when we do need you for something else, but until then this part of the fight isn't yours."
Good! Lucy wanted to blurt out. However beside her, she could feel the tension radiating from her wife. Lucy knew that Susannah would be offended by a perceived slight against her capabilities. Susannah desperately wanted to be a part of something, even after she had turned down the desk job she'd been offered by the Alliance. Lucy had seen the pained expressions that crossed Susannah's face. It wasn't often, and never when Susannah knew she was looking, but it was there. She'd spent enough time staring at her wife's body - touching her, making love to her – to know the extent of the burns that ravaged much of her torso, arms and legs. Susannah went to great lengths to act as though her injuries didn't trouble her, but Lucy knew otherwise.
"Babe, Anderson and Mr Macklin need to be on their way," Lucy insisted quietly. "We've all lingered too long already."
"Thank you both," Anderson said with absolute sincerity. "We are going to need both of you in the coming months…and years, promise me you'll stay safe until we need you again? Keep a low profile, behave yourselves."
Lucy and Susannah nodded in affirmation before sharing brief hugs and even briefer goodbyes with Anderson and the still cheerful Mack. The two men then departed via their unglamorous escape route. Judging by the state of Mack's clothes, they were in for a hard slog.
With the sounds made by Anderson and Mack growing fainter by the second, Lucy helped Susannah to replace the manhole cover.
"I'm in trouble aren't I?" Susannah asked quietly.
"It would have been nice if you'd discussed the whole 'we want in' deal with me," Lucy shot back.
"This isn't the best time for an argument," Susannah pointed out. They both tensed as the manhole cover fell back into place with an audible crunch.
"I don't want an argument at all," Lucy pleaded. "I just want to remind you that I'm here for you. I know it's frustrating-"
"It's not frustrating, Luce," Susannah interrupted. "It killed me the day they clipped my wings. To be told that I can never fly again even though I know I can still do it."
"You never said…"
"It didn't need to be said," Susannah replied. Her voice carried no anger, only sadness. "Let's get the fuck out of here. I really need to pee."
With all the tension, Lucy had forgotten her own need for the bathroom. With the reminder, the urge returned tenfold. However, she remained silent, doing her best to follow Susannah as quietly and as quickly as possible. Silently she resented the fact that she was supposed to be a mind-reader and she was devastated that she couldn't help her wife. Lucy tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, willing that Anderson reached his destination safely.
Omega, Sahrabarik
I look like an idiot.
Myke's crisis of confidence came at an inopportune time. She'd already jabbed her finger on the buzzer. The door was about to open and she was having doubts about her outfit. Prior to meeting Shepard, she'd always dressed in the same battered, ill-fitting commando leathers. She'd gladly exchanged them when Shepard arrived - emulating her hero by wearing the same casual cargos and hoodies. Myke couldn't pull off Shepard's effortless cool - managing to look more like someone who was skipping school as opposed to someone who meant business. Hence the new threads. However, Myke wondered if she'd gone one step too far with the crisp new leather pants and jacket. The outfit had cost a week's pay, was dreadfully uncomfortable, and creaked when she walked. The aim had been to look a little more grown-up, but Myke felt like a fraud.
The door opened. Shepard was wearing the same clothes she'd worn the day before. "Hey, Shepard." Please don't say anything about the stupid outfit.
"Hey yourself," Shepard replied. "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning. Let me guess, you're out of food at your place?"
"Oh…yeah, I am. Thanks for reminding me." Just stroll in, looking completely normal. Nor did Myke need a second invitation to help herself to whatever was in Shepard and Liara's food cupboard. Plus, rummaging around in the cupboard gave her additional time to compose herself. "You got any more of those little pastry things? The ones with the chocolate inside?"
Shepard sighed. Possibly out of exasperation. She opened a cupboard, drew out a box and set it on the counter.
Myke's eyes lit up. Jackpot. The pastries were meant to be heated, but she grabbed one out and started eating it to tide her over while she popped two more in to toast.
"Those things are really bad for you," Shepard warned.
Myke scowled as she chewed. "Then why do you have them? You don't even like chocolate."
Shepard shrugged. "Nope, but Liara does."
"This is Liara's personal stash?" Myke asked in horror. A lump of food sat like a stone in her mouth.
"Yep." Shepard retrieved a bottle of juice from the fridge. "But they're already toasting, so you might as well eat them now."
The toaster pinged happily. Myke caught the delicious scent and her concerns of being trussed up in a singularity vanished. She resumed chewing. "While you're there, can you pass me some of that juice?"
"You know," Shepard growled as she took out two glasses. "This isn't how the whole employee – employer relationship is supposed to work. I give you a job, you do stuff for me."
Myke was only half listening as she juggled one of the burning hot pastries in her hand whilst trying to blow on it. "Why? Do you have something you need me to do?"
"You can start by telling me what you're doing."
"Having breakfast," Myke replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took a bite of the deliciously crisp pastry. It burnt the roof of her mouth, but she didn't care. "And we've got that meeting to go to. The briefing thing? Since Liara will probably have us sitting there all day, I thought I'd need a decent breakfast." Myke resumed eating with forced concentration.
"Myke…you weren't…You really don't need to be there," Shepard said eventually.
"You need me there!" Myke protested, paying full attention for the first time. "You trust me. I know I don't exactly have a great deal of skills in…well, anything really, but I'm a great listener."
"You're a terrible listener," Shepard pointed out bluntly.
"Okay, maybe I am. But I promise I will sit in a corner and not say a single word." This is not going well. Myke tried a different approach, preying on Shepard's bleeding heart. "Fine, if you don't trust me enough to be there, then that's the way it is."
Shepard sighed and Myke almost grinned. It was just too easy. "I would've asked you," Shepard admitted. "But…honestly…Aria is going to be there, and I know how you feel about her."
A chill gripped Myke's entire body. All her careful planning was about to be undone by the individual she hated more than any other. Aria fucking T'Loak. Myke wanted to ask Shepard why Aria even needed to be there in the first place, but even she knew that virtually owning an entire space station gave you a hell of a lot of leverage – even with Shepard and Liara.
Myke squared her shoulders. "I'm coming, regardless of whether that bitch is there."
"Fine, I guess it's settled then." Shepard shrugged as though she really didn't mind. "Why are you so eager to come anyway? You do realise that it'll just be a bunch of people sitting around talking?"
"A bunch of people talking about a runaway Reaper," Myke pointed out. Mission accomplished, she resumed eating. "Kind of a big deal. Besides, I'm part of your crew on Omega. I should be there for…moral support or whatever." There was more to it than that. Myke wasn't willing to admit it to Shepard, or perhaps it wasn't even necessary, but she really enjoyed the fact that she was part of something. After years of running around by herself, ignored by virtually everyone, it was a relief to be welcome somewhere.
Even if I can't do a bloody thing other than sit down and shut up.
Myke was immensely pleased with herself. Now the task at hand was uncovering more information about Samantha Traynor without Shepard realising. So far, all Myke knew was that the human she'd bumped into was hot. While that was a good start, Myke needed more, if only to satiate her curiosity. And she's Normandy crew, which means she'll be leaving as soon as her ship is patched up. Myke decided that she would ignore that minor technicality for the time being.
"What the hell has gotten into you, Kasos?" Shepard interrupted Myke's thoughts. "You've got this spaced out expression on your face…or more spaced out than usual. Something's up. What is it? Have Aria's people been hassling you again?"
Myke shook her head quickly. "No, nothing like that. With the Normandy arriving it all feels as though things are about to happen. That I'm a part of something really big. I've never had that before. The fact that you trust me enough, it's pretty fucking fantastic." Despite the fact that she was actually trying to get Shepard to stop asking questions, Myke meant every word. For the time being, she forgot about her personal interests and appreciated everything that was going on around her. Myke wanted to attract Samantha Traynor's interest, but a part of her wanted to matter even more.
"Of course I trust you," Shepard replied. "I didn't thank you for the other day, for being with me when the Normandy arrived. It's been a difficult few weeks, but I feel better knowing you've got my back."
"I'll always have your back, Shepard." Myke beamed before stuffing her mouth full.
"Nice outfit by the way," Shepard said casually. "Suits you."
Myke's tour of the Normandy a few days earlier had been necessarily brief, yet she had seen enough to be excited beyond belief. Now, almost unbelievably, she was being allowed on-board for a second time. Her entire body thrummed with excitement. Beside her, Shepard wore her hood up again, pulled down low over her face. Liara and Samara walked ahead. The justicar had made her disapproval regarding Myke's involvement clear, but Shepard had overruled her – much to Myke's barely concealed delight.
"I don't need to remind you of your job, Myke?" Shepard asked as they entered a lounge area.
"Nope. Sit down, shut up, and listen," Myke replied promptly. She wasn't about to have the opportunity snatched away from her. Not to mention the chance to see Samantha Traynor again. "Although…"
Myke withered slightly beneath the glare Samara gave her. She tilted her chin defiantly. The justicar may have been in charge during their training sessions, but that didn't mean that every part of Myke's life was dictated by the stupid code. Her fears were unfounded. Despite the relatively solemn occasion, Shepard responded with an indulgent smile. Even though it was no longer her ship, it was clear that Shepard enjoyed showing off the Normandy.
"I really want to say hello to the VI. What did you call it?" Myke asked tentatively.
"Her name is EDI, and she's not a VI. She's a fully self-aware AI…a little too self-aware if you ask me."
{I will ignore that comment, Shepard,} EDI replied in an almost piqued voice. {However I am willing to indulge the request of your unidentified companion and engage in a greeting. I have already flagged her as a category three security risk.}
"I'm not a security risk!" Myke protested. "Please don't blast me into pieces."
{With the loss of my mobile platform, I am no longer capable of aggression against an individual,} EDI attempted to reassure Myke.
"Okay…" Myke responded slowly. She didn't understand what the AI was saying, but it sounded as though she wasn't in immediate danger. "Eeedee, I'm Mycea Kasos, resident of Omega and Shepard's second-in-command….oh, and I'm her friend too so you should probably keep being nice to me…please."
{I am pleased to meet you, Mycea Kasos. Does your employment entail ensuring Shepard's security?}
"Not exactly…" Myke fumbled for the words.
"It entails eating my food," Shepard replied on Myke's behalf. "And generally being a loyal friend."
Just as Myke was about to explain the actual work that she did, their conversation with EDI was interrupted by the appearance of another human. Myke was immediately fascinated. She hadn't known that humans could grow purple hair. As Shepard greeted her, Myke realised with a growing sense of awe that it was Ashley Williams, the current Captain of the Normandy and Council SpecTRe. Williams wasn't quite what Myke had been expecting. Clearly still recovering from the mission, she was quiet and unsteady on her feet. While Myke waited eagerly for an introduction, another hooded figure swept into the room. Upon recognising Aria T'Loak, Myke instinctively shrank into a corner and wordlessly took a seat. Despite the attempt to make herself invisible, Aria still noticed her. However the gaze was fleeting, as though Myke wasn't worth her sire's time.
From that point the room quickly felt full and almost claustrophobic. A strange alien walked in and immediately acted as though he owned the room. Myke didn't recognise his race, even as she watched Shepard greet him like a friend. Samantha Traynor arrived last, slipping into the room as though it was the last place she wanted to be. For a brief moment it appeared as though Sam was gravitating towards Myke, then Liara took her arm and steered her to a prominent place in the centre of the room. Much to Myke's disgust, Samara sat down next to her instead.
It soon became clear why Sam was needed at the centre of the room. As Myke listened to the story unfolding from Samantha's lips, her mouth fell open in awe. Actually boarding the Reaper? And shooting dead a Krogan merc? However the imaginary fist pump in Myke's head fell flat when she recognised the catch in Sam's voice for what it was. As the young human struggled to control her emotions, Myke felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. She bristled, resenting the fact that Liara was forcing Sam to recount the story in front of so many people.
Myke did feel slightly better for knowing most of those sitting in the room – even if one of them was her father. Aria was currently doing her best to take up more seating space than she needed. Her arms were stretched out in a predatory fashion. She smirked as though everyone else in the room was beneath her. Myke scowled, but looked away in a panic when Aria caught her gaze. It was at that point Myke noticed a fifth asari in the room. Another maiden. Strangely enough, this asari was wearing an Alliance uniform. From the manner in which she sat – like a coiled spring, ready to leap – Myke could tell that she was a commando. Unlike everyone else in the room, the commando appeared to have little interest in the proceedings. Instead Myke watched the maiden cast discreet glances in the direction of Ashley Williams. The present captain of the Normandy had also remained quiet, eyes downcast throughout the meeting. All save for one fleeting glance towards the commando. Myke was hardly an expert when it came to such matters, but even she knew enough to recognise a pair of lovers…or would be lovers.
Samantha Traynor was now being bombarded with questions from all angles. Aria questioned her credibility, which both Shepard and Liara quickly quashed. Although Myke barely knew Sam, she still felt a sense of pride in the manner which Sam answered everything. Patient. Calm, despite the fact that she was clearly awkward at being the centre of attention. You've asked enough questions, now leave her alone, Myke thought. Unable to voice such an opinion aloud, Myke had to settle for muttering under her breath. At least until she earned an elbow from Samara – who probably thought she was bored.
The meeting had already lasted for almost two hours. Myke had long since lost track of the discussions flying around the room. Although everyone agreed that they needed to find the Reaper, exactly how they would accomplish this and who would do the finding remained up for debate. For a brief, heady moment, Myke imagined leaving on the Normandy with its intrepid crew. Setting out into the unknown. It would have been something new. Exciting. Then Myke reminded herself that being aboard a warship was probably quite dangerous, possibly getting shot at on a regular basis. And the food was probably crap.
"As soon as repairs are complete, the Normandy is going back to Sol," Ashley Williams said in a tired voice. There were people in the room that had expected Normandy's captain to take the lead. She obviously wasn't interested. "We've already been absent for too long. Unlike the rest of you, I have duties, obligations."
"We know, Ash," Shepard replied patiently. "No one's asking you to go back out there looking for this Catalyst."
Myke still didn't fully grasp what a Catalyst was. She'd immediately noticed the matching expressions of shock on Shepard and Liara's faces when it was mentioned. Then Shepard had started behaving slightly oddly – staring at her artificial hand and absently stroking it with the other. She made a mental note to ask her friend about it later.
"We were asking," Aria added. "But little soldier girl doesn't have the quad to tell her people to shove 'duty' up their asses. Meanwhile I've got the resources to tear this System apart but no one's asking me."
"You would seek out this creature for your own gain, mercenary."
It was the exact thought Myke was thinking, but it had been given voice by the alien, Javik. Myke hated looking at him. He gave her the creeps. However that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate him standing up to Aria.
Aria sneered in response. "Fuck off, relic."
The Queen of Omega rose to her feet. Flared blue. Javik responded. Green tendrils of dark energy wrapped around his body.
"I happen to be very civic-minded," Aria continued in an acerbic tone. "If this Catalyst finds me a more attractive prospect than a backwater Krogan clan, then it's a good thing as far as I'm concerned. For one, I'm not on some fucking ridiculous crusade to take over the Galaxy…this System would be more than enough."
"You already control most of this System, Aria," Shepard pointed out as she stood – immediately commanding the centre of the room with her presence. "Javik, stand down. I'm not going to let either of you tear the Normandy apart. You're both guests here and you will act as such."
Myke was mostly relieved. Slightly disappointed. She would have liked to have seen whether the creepy alien could have kicked Aria's ass. And you'd be in the cross fire, you dumb pyjak.
The continuing debate lasted long enough for Myke to lose all track of the time…again. Shepard seemed content to sit and fade into the background while Liara took over discussions in a practiced, almost scary, manner. As though it was something she was used to. Aria eventually grudgingly agreed that her people would coordinate with Liara's. Liara has people? Myke thought. She appraised the other maiden, watching, trying to learn from her as Liara sat calmly and actually managed to dictate terms to the Queen of Omega. In that moment, Myke was exceptionally fond of Liara. Myke beamed inwardly as she watched Aria actually show visible signs of annoyance. And she made another mental note, this time one to replace Liara's pastries.
The conversation had not quite drawn to a close when Ashley Williams suddenly rose to her feet. The movement surprised Myke because Normandy's Captain had continued to remain silent, contributing little, and appearing to be distracted by her thoughts. Without a word, Ashley then slipped out of the room. Shepard stood immediately in response but was headed off by the young commando - Kurin. It was Kurin who then went after Ashley, piquing Myke's chronic curiosity.
Everything ground slowly to a halt from that point. Myke's stomach rumbled. Liara mercifully announced that they would adjourn. Who the hell says 'adjourn' anyway? Myke thought. Her fondness for Liara was already short-lived and her attention was moving elsewhere. She immediately sought out Sam. The human had offered little other than answering questions directed at her, but once, just once, she had looked up and met Myke's gaze. It was all the encouragement Myke needed. She rose quickly, heart hammering, only to have her path blocked by Aria.
Her sire was wearing a predictable scowl. "You're letting the justicar sink her claws into you," Aria accused with a pointed glance across at Samara.
The innuendo behind the accusation made Myke slightly ill. Samara stood, moving gracefully between Myke and Aria.
"I am merely imparting some much-needed training and advice," Samara offered. "Something Mycea has sorely lacked during her formative years."
"She doesn't need any of your code bullshit. She's safe enough," Aria growled in response.
Samara remained emotionless. "Do you claim to know what she needs? Have you asked her? She needs companions, a purpose. You may have given her life, but you have given her little else other than a focus for hatred."
In that moment, as Aria's colour deepened, Myke could have hugged Samara. Aria appeared moments away from losing her temper, before she cast the briefest glance towards Myke. The expression that crossed Aria's face was confusing, and left Myke torn between fear and something else. Hope? However her attention had been diverted from her real focus. Samantha Traynor had slipped from the room. With a muttered curse in the direction of her sire, Myke moved past the two older asari, in search of Sam.
Thankfully the young human was easy to find. Sam was in the mess, drinking a glass of water in deep, grateful gulps. Some of it dribbled from her lips adorably when she noticed Myke.
"Hey." Myke hoped the simple greeting didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
"Oh…Mycea, right?"
Myke nodded. Sam's voice was so distinct. In a way it reminded her of Liara's. The same soft, calm tones, but with far more warmth to it. She stared transfixed for a moment, then realised that Sam was expecting her to continue the conversation.
"Um, so, you did really well in there. If it was me speaking, I'd have ballsed it up completely…especially in front of that group."
"Thank you," Sam replied. Myke didn't miss the fact that her lips were glistening slightly with moisture. "My hands were all sweaty. Plus I skipped breakfast, so my stomach was rumbling the whole time."
"You skipped a meal?" Myke viewed this as a tragedy of epic proportions. Her mind worked. An idea formed. However, the actual verbal execution of the idea proved difficult. It was her turn to have sweaty palms. "Do they let you off the Normandy? I mean they must. Otherwise you'd go crazy or something. Not that you're capable of going crazy…" Myke stopped, drew in a breath. "Would you like to grab food somewhere? With me?"
An awkward silence followed. Myke could almost see Samantha's thoughts. The obvious indecision and painful hesitation. Myke felt her entire body deflate. She's trying to come up with an excuse. It was stupid to ask in the first place…
"Sure."
When it finally did come, the rapid answer took Myke by surprise. "What? You will? Brilliant." Not so enthusiastic, Kasos. "I know a great noodle place. And you're the tourist so I'm paying."
"Omega has tourists?" Sam asked casually. She washed her glass. A small smile had finally appeared on her face as the earlier tension disappeared.
"Of course it does. Although they're usually the kind that want to disappear rather than sun themselves on a beach."
"A beach." Sam sighed wistfully. "I haven't been to a beach for…well, years I suppose."
"I've never been," Myke admitted. She'd never left Omega, and the barren rock was a little short of beaches…or anywhere particularly scenic. "Is it true that the ground is covered in sand?" Myke had watched Asari Confessions 9: Blue on the Beach, but she couldn't imagine how it would feel against her skin. "What does it feel like on your-" She stopped herself before she said 'ass.' "-feet?"
Sam laughed politely. "Are you going to keep asking questions all through lunch?"
"I'm talking too much?" Myke could have slapped herself over the head.
"No, you're not. And even if you were, I wouldn't want you to stop." Sam shook her head. "It's nice."
Nice? I can start from there. At that point in time, Myke was so happy that she could have started from anywhere.
Kurin had never been invited up to Ashley's quarters on the Normandy. It was the one last place of refuge the human soldier had managed to maintain for herself. There was some element of guilt as she entered. It felt as though she was stripping away one last layer of protection. This feeling vanished almost as soon as it arose, replaced by a sense of urgency. There were things that needed to be said, and Kurin no longer cared whether it was selfish to give voice to them.
The cabin was not what Kurin had expected. While it was spacious enough, the décor was reserved and overly functional. Compared to the captain's quarters on an asari vessel, it was almost sterile. Kurin invited herself to take a quick glance around. A display case filled with tiny little model ships didn't fit with the Ashley she knew. The rack of weapons however, most certainly did.
Ashley was lying on the bed, heedless of her boots on the covers. Her eyes were closed, fingers pressed against her temples. Despite the circumstances, Kurin's body responded with an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't lust – perhaps just a little – but it was a definite desire to hold the human and offer what comfort she could. Although she desperately wanted to act on this impulse, Kurin chose to sit on the low sofa to maintain an adequate distance.
"Are you alright?" Ashley asked the question without opening her eyes.
The question had been on Kurin's lips, but she hadn't asked it. "You're asking me? I'm not the one that looks like I've been regurgitated by a Sleag."
"What's a Sleag?"
"Oh." Kurin felt foolish for some reason. "Colossal sea creature. Native to the deep oceans of Thessia, they regurgitate their prey to feed to their young…and I'm sure you don't give a fuck."
Ashley shrugged. "Trivia is always useful. You never know when you're going to get asked to be on a quiz team."
"At least your rotten sense of humour has returned," Kurin pointed out. "Is everything else okay?"
"I asked you first," Ashley reminded her.
Kurin bit her lip. The human was insufferable. Why in Athame's name would she not be fine? Unlike others, Ashley especially, she'd escaped virtually unscathed from Gurkan. There was barely a mark on her. She almost felt guilty for not having visible wounds. Instead Kurin felt as though she should be marked with something raw and painful. Something to explain why she felt like an emotional mess. To explain why it was so difficult for her to be in Ashley's presence. Even though Ashley's eyes were still closed, Kurin looked away. She couldn't look at the human. Not with what she needed to say.
"I'm…not alright." Kurin had to force the admission through gritted teeth. It was the last conversation she wanted to have. It was also the only one she wanted to have. "I owe you an apology, Captain Williams."
"We all went a little bit crazy on Gurkan, Kurin." Ashley's reply was irritatingly calm, impossible to read into.
It required an immense effort on Kurin's part just to look at Ashley. Goddess, please let her eyes be closed. They weren't. The human was staring straight at her, expression just as unreadable as her voice. Kurin resented the fact that the whole thing had to be so difficult.
"No. It started before Gurkan. Even before I met you. Whilst listening to Commander Javik describe you. I had this sick urge to toy with you, to try and unravel you in any way I possibly could. Call it a stupid game, a maiden's foolishness." Kurin felt like a complete fool in that moment. "At first it was purely for entertainment. Even the kiss on Erinle. Then everything changed on that Goddess-damned rock." Kurin paused. If only Ashley's expression would change. Anger, disgust or pity, Kurin didn't care. "Prior to the Pserimos, the only command I had to my name was garrison duty on Thessia during the war. Now I'm one of the youngest frigate Captains in the fleet. I know…and everyone else knows, that my family name was the reason for my being given command. That meant I couldn't fail…I refused to fail, even if that meant sacrificing myself. When you wouldn't let me…then everything changed."
"Commando training or not, I wasn't going to abandon you to Mrath," Ashley said. Her voice remained infuriatingly calm.
"The truth is…our training is long and gruelling. It's tough, and sometimes cruel, but at no point do they train us for…that." Kurin shuddered involuntarily. Get a grip. "I flirt. I like to pretend I'm experienced, but the truth is I've never been in love…" Fuck it. "At least, not until now."
There was an awful, lingering silence in the wake of her admission. Kurin sat, poised on the edge of her seat. More than ready to flee. Ashley finally reacted. The human sat forward, suddenly seeming more alive than she had done in days. The air between them hummed with electricity. Kurin instinctively knew that if she was able to close the distance between them, close enough to bring their lips together, then everything would play out exactly as she had dreamed. She stubbornly remained seated, fists clenched on her knees. Seconds later, the moment passed.
"Tasha," Ashley whispered in a broken voice.
Kurin already knew what was coming. She couldn't meet Ashley's gaze, especially as her eyes burned shamefully.
"Dammit. I can't be what you need. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you…but I love Miranda. This isn't going to happen…or at least it's not going to go any further than it already has."
Kurin remained sitting completely still in the aftermath of Ashley's rejection. It hurt. By the Goddess it hurt. Worse than being shot, or even – Goddess damn her – the darkest days of the war when most of her unit lay dead in the ruins. Kurin uttered a ragged sigh. She managed to bring herself under control, at least enough to glance up and look at Ashley. The human soldier wore an expression Kurin judged to be similar to her own – one of anguish. However, Ashley's expression was also tinged with something else.
Sympathy.
That's because you're pathetic, Kurin reminded herself. Millions died, you lived. And for what? So you could fall apart the moment a pretty human turns you down?
There was nothing more she could say without making a fool of herself. Kurin knew she had to leave. As she stood, a framed image next to Ashley's bed caught her eye. Something compelled her to take a few steps towards the picture. She needed to see for herself. The face of a human female came into view. Alabaster skin, brilliant grey eyes – stunning, practically flawless. Kurin couldn't suppress the urge to burst into self-deprecating laughter.
There was absolutely nothing ugly about Miranda Lawson.
The laugh died abruptly on her lips. Ashley was no doubt staring at her as though she'd lost her mind. Kurin turned away, turned her back on the picture. She wanted to stay. She needed to remain in Ashley's space. Perhaps there was something she could say to convince Ashley that this was meant to be. No, Kurin told herself firmly. You need to leave while you still possess some shred of dignity.
"I'm not going to avoid you," Ashley suddenly said. Her voice was quiet, but intense. "Don't be a stranger."
Kurin smirked. "No chance of that."
A few moments later, with two closed doors safely between them, the young commando even managed to feel slightly smug about the manner in which she had remained poised and composed. As the elevator moved downward, Kurin had every intention of walking out confidently with her back straight and the smirk still on her face.
This isn't going to happen.
The memory extinguished her intentions like a fist clamped over a candle flame. Kurin sagged against the wall. The breath she had been holding for too long finally emerged as a drawn out shudder. The exhalation weakened her last measure of self-control. The dreaded tears fell and she allowed herself a few, deep sobs before she angrily scrubbed at her face and eyes in an attempt to excise the evidence.
Kurin's eyes felt puffy and her cheeks damp as the doors opened. In her haste to find somewhere private, she collided with another asari entering the elevator. With the impact, she instinctively grasped the asari's forearms to keep from stumbling. Upon glancing up, Kurin expected to see one of her commandos, instead she met the distinctive gaze of Aria T'Loak. Kurin froze. She stared stupidly, expecting…well, she didn't know what to expect. It certainly wasn't the sudden, intense rush that enveloped her entire body. In the moment that she started trembling, Kurin wrenched free of Aria's burning grasp.
"My apologies." Kurin refused to lower her gaze lest the action be interpreted as a form of deference. She was asari nobility. Aria T'Loak was nothing but a common criminal. However her resolve meant that she was forced to watch as the older asari studied her – the damp cheeks and puffy eyes. T'Loak's mouth twitched into a sneer…or was it a grin?
Kurin fled without a further word.
It was uncanny how something as simple as a greasy, sloppy box of takeaway food could lift spirits. Sam used her chopsticks to shovel another parcel of food into her mouth. A contented sigh escaped her lips. From her perch, Omega no longer looked like the cesspit of scum and villainy it was. Instead it thrummed with industrious activity, full of life in every corner and crevice – even if that 'life' happened to be rodents scurrying in the refuse. Sam had not expected to find any sort of peace on Omega, but she had to admit that the view wasn't bad. As she ate, Sam discreetly turned her head to watch her companion. Mycea Kasos ate her own meal, lifting each bite to her mouth with great care. The asari's brow was creased in a delightful but inexplicable frown. It was almost as though Mycea was concentrating. For a moment, or two, Sam lost herself in the lines of colour trailing down the side of Mycea's face – the pink standing out brilliantly against dark purple skin. Entrancing and exotic.
Yes, the view is definitely not bad at all. Sam returned to her food. They finished their meals in companionable silence.
"Thank you for this," Sam said as she set aside the empty box. Mycea flashed her a quick smile in response. "I was going stir-crazy staying on board the Normandy but Omega isn't exactly a place I wanted to wander around by myself." Sam was sorry that they had finished eating, unsure what that meant she was supposed to do next. "I should go. You've probably got important work to do for Shepard. Instead you're babysitting me."
"No!" Mycea replied, almost abruptly. She winced as though realising just how quickly she had responded. "I don't have anything better to do…I mean, there's nowhere else I have to be, nowhere I'd rather be than here." The words tumbled out too quickly. "But I'm not babysitting you. You're Shepard's friend. Hopefully that makes you my friend too…or at least gives us the chance to be friends…and I should just shut up now or you really will be leaving."
Sam couldn't contain a small laugh. "To be honest, I could always use another friend. And you come highly recommended."
Myke grinned and ducked her head in embarrassment. "I just kind of threw myself at Shepard, and she was stuck with me." Her cheeks coloured to an even darker shade of purple. "Not throw myself at her like that, I don't think of Shepard in that way…and Liara would murder me several times over if I did. Not that I wouldn't like a human."
As though to firmly shut herself up, Myke scooped up a huge morsel of food and shoved it into her mouth. Silence descended apart from Myke's deliberate chewing. Sam went back to staring at the view with a smile on her face, watching the ships down below engage in their slow dance. Omega felt so far removed from everything she had ever known. Her childhood on Horizon, her Oxford university days, and her career in the Alliance. She reflected on the twists and turns her life had taken of late – far from the research lab in which she had anticipated spending the rest of her career. Not for the first time Sam wondered whether she would have been happier had she never received her assignment to the Normandy. Her dreams would certainly have been less troubled. Every night since Gurkan Sam fell exhausted into her rack, hoping that she wouldn't be forced to endure another night punctuated by images of the young Krogan she'd killed. Sam knew she needed to talk to someone about it, but everyone's problems seemed far weightier than her own.
"You look like you've got a lot on your mind." Myke had finally finished her food.
The asari wore an honest, concerned expression…as well as a dollop of sauce on her chin. Sam had to resist the urge to swipe it away with a gentle touch of her thumb. In general, Sam was surprised at how relaxed she felt around Mycea – especially considering how intimidating she usually found asari.
"It's…nothing," Sam replied quietly. "Just…reflecting."
"It sounded like it was…rough down there," Myke responded. "I didn't know what happened until I heard. At the meeting, because I was there. Shit, you must think I'm insensitive for being there when I didn't need to be."
"I wish I didn't need to be there either," Sam admitted. Life had been much simpler when all she did was man her old comms station. There had been the odd enemy communication to intercept – keeping things exciting – but for the most part it was easy. It was clean. Killing was messy.
"Yeah, it must be annoying to follow orders. I mean, I do what Shep tells me…and occasionally I'll listen to Samara, but mostly I'm my own boss."
"I wasn't following orders when I shot Sarl." Sam hadn't intended to say anything of the sort. It slipped out. She winced when she saw Myke duck her head awkwardly. "Sorry, forget I said anything."
"Isn't that the whole point of being a soldier?" Myke offered tentatively. "You shoot people?"
"I'm not that kind of soldier." Every marine's a rifleman remember, Sam. It's your job. For that one time at least, you were bloody good at it.
Myke swivelled on her perch until she was fully facing Sam. "I've never shot anyone."
"Try and keep it that way," Sam advised.
"I would though," Myke replied quickly. "If my friends were in danger. I'd do it to save a life. That's what you were doing wasn't it?"
Sam admired the asari's candour, but she remained pessimistic. "Indirectly…but it doesn't feel like it. It just feels like…I'm a horrible person."
"Hey," Myke said quickly, gently. She was leaning forward now. "You're not a horrible person. I've met horrible people – I'm related to some of the worst – and you're not like them."
Sam laughed sardonically. "It's kind of you to say, Mycea, but you barely know me."
Myke pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well that's shit. Let's fix it?"
"Huh?" Sam stared blankly, trying to ascertain exactly what the asari was asking of her.
"I'm saying I want to get to know you better," Myke explained, almost eagerly. She followed up with a nervous grin. "You can start by calling me Myke, and when I get to know you better, I'll remind you that you're not a horrible person. Deal?"
Sam found it difficult to remain despondent in Myke's presence. Despite everything that had happened, she grinned. With the grin, it felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. "You've got a deal." She wondered if they now knew each other well enough for her to point something out to her new friend. "Hey…Myke? You've got a tiny bit of sauce, just on…" Sam motioned to her chin.
Clearly mortified, Myke wiped at one side of her chin. She managed to miss the sauce completely. With barely a pause, Sam leaned forward and gently cupped Myke's chin. The touch felt electric. With a gentle swipe of her thumb, she removed the offending dot of sauce. Her touch lingered, just a split second longer than necessary, before she realised what she was doing.
"Got it," Sam offered quietly, letting her hand fall.
The pair of them sat in silence. Eventually Myke looked away, trying to hide a small grin. Sam also went back to staring out at the view. For some reason the colours appeared brighter, more vibrant.
Alive.
