After leaving the Citadel for the Normandy, Damien felt the need to give the Symphonean Admiral a tour since it'd been tweaked on quite a lot since he last saw it. Azrael wasn't quite sure how he felt about the supposed "new and improved" Normandy. It didn't look bad by any means but it didn't completely feel like the Normandy. There were plenty of upgrades along with a reasonable amount of similarities, sure, but he couldn't bring himself to love it. It's probably because of the fact that those with Cerberus were the ones who put the ship back together only for it to leave a relatively … bitter taste in the Symphonean's mouth.
"Something on your mind, Azrael?" Damien asked, tilting his head slightly to the left as dark brown brows furrowed.
"Hmm?" he asked. "Oh no. I'm just … "
"You don't like it here."
"I wouldn't say that I don't like it here, no," he answered truthfully, folding his arms across his chest. "There's just something about this whole … thing that rubs me the wrong way. I'm getting unpleasant vibes and it still wreaks of death."
"And … "
"And … what?"
"There's something else that bothers you," Damien said, calling him out. "What's going on? You can tell me."
"Mmm," he hummed, puckering his lips to the point of them forming a perfect circle as his nose flared. Getting called out wasn't what bothered him. Hell, he wanted to tell him. He just … didn't know how to say it without risking people overhearing the two of them and causing a ship-wide argument. "I'd rather speak to you in private about this."
"Of course," Damien nodded, motioning for the Symphonean to follow him. "We'll go to my room. It's soundproof and private."
It didn't take long at all for them to ride the elevator to the Commander's cabin where it's more … secluded. Damien went over to his bed and sat down whereas Azrael propped himself up against the wall closest to Damien.
"So what's up?" he asked, looking up and over at the Symphonean with observant electric blue eyes.
"Well, to put it bluntly," Azrael sighed. "I don't trust Miranda."
"Oh?" The other's dark brown brows rose, somewhat surprised by Azrael's statement.
"She … um," Azrael paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "she rubs me the wrong way. I went through her files and couldn't help to notice how … uppity and self-assertive she came to be."
"I see," Damien pursed his lips, furrowing his brows while in deep thought. "Do you … think she's going to be a problem?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I just don't like how she deems herself as the best human biotic in existence. Now, granted, I technically have no right to judge for I am yet to see her in action but I find such a statement to be nothing short of poppycock."
"Which is valid," he nodded, agreeing with his statement. "She's … good at what she does. But I'm yet to see what she's fully capable of. I think she's holding back." Damien wasn't quite sure what Miranda's whole situation was except for being genetically engineered to be the perfect human in existence. "I don't know why, though. She'll tell me whenever she's ready I'm sure of it. Not going to push it out of her or anything."
"That's very Damien of you." A faint chuckle crept past parted lips as Azrael raised cyan blue brows once as he smiled genuinely at the Commander.
"You're one to talk," he sniped right back, his tone genuine. "Where do you think I got it from?"
"Your mother I'd hope," Azrael answered. "That, or Anderson. Take your pick."
"Azrael," he let out a faint chuckle. "I'm serious. You … really did help me out a lot back then. I meant it when I said that I couldn't have done any of it without you. There's no way I would've been able to save both Ashley and Kaiden back on Virmire if you hadn't gone to save Ashley. And you managed to save Captain Kirrahe, as well. That's something I never would've been able to do myself."
"I — " Azrael paused. Damien wasn't wrong and he knew it. He wanted to save Ashley not only because he would've felt guilty but to show that not all non-human species were "animalistic" in nature. It took her some time to understand that but she finally did … thankfully. " — I'm sure you would've found a way to do it yourself, Damien. Have more faith in yourself."
"As should you."
Dammit, Damien, he thought to himself. The human had gotten rather quick with his quips and remarks over the years. The Symphonean couldn't quite tell if it was a good or bad thing just yet. All he knew was that he spent far too much time around the likes of Joker and himself (and perhaps even David). But that's okay. Having more people to wisecrack around had its perks.
Somewhat changing the subject, Damien felt the need to ask a relatively important question, "So what are your thoughts on the rest of the crew?"
"You mean outside of … like … Garrus, Joker, and Dr. Chakwas?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"Mmm," he exhaled out. Thinking long and hard about how he felt about what few he'd met, Azrael finally answered, "Jacob is … a little too stiff. Reminds me a lot of Garrus, really. Well … at least when he first started working for C-Sec and not too long after meeting you back on the Citadel. Both are exceedingly hard on themselves and never seem to give themselves enough credit."
"That's … " Damien paused, trying to process everything Azrael had just told him. All he could do what let out a faint chuckle when putting two and two together, " … actually a good point. I never really took notice of that. What are your thoughts on everyone else?"
"Well," Azrael began. "Kasumi … what's there to say about her? She means well and is most certainly good at what she does but if she wants to be the modern day Robin Hood then she's going to have to put her feelings aside. EDI reminds me a bit of my Weapons Specialist back on Symphonea, Baidi. Except with less emotion and is a feminine AI as opposed to a masculine android. Mordin is … as to the point as he is anti-social. And as for Zaeed? Well, there's no denying that he's seen a lot and definitely knows a thing or two on how to survive a war so I'll give him that."
The Commander took what Azrael had to say very seriously. There's no wonder Captain Anderson requested him to come along during the events that took place well over two years ago. Because he did truly mean it when saying he couldn't have done anything without the likes of the Symphonean earlier in the day. And he wholeheartedly planned on dragging Azrael on damn near every mission he planned on in hopes of getting his two cents on any new recruits. That's if … of course … assuming the Symphonean's okay with it.
Letting out a harsh sigh, he asked, "How about Kelly? What are your thoughts on her?"
"The … yeoman, right?" He asked, pausing for a brief moment. After seeing Damien nod confirming his question, Azrael continued, "She seems like she means well. A little too open about her personal thoughts and opinions on everything but she seems to be good at her job. Has a keen eye, that's for certain. I just … don't feel comfortable going to her about my problems, is all. Nothing against her, personally, though."
"No, I understand," Damien shrugged, nodding once more. He understood where the Symphonean came from. "Though I would say that it would definitely be wise for you to meet The Illusive Man. Perhaps not anytime soon, though."
"The … Illusive Man?" Azrael's cyan blue brows rose when hearing such a ridiculous name coming out of the other's mouth. "I can only assume that's not his real name … " Despite it sounding oddly familiar.
"It's not, no," he confirmed the other's suspicions. "He's the one who's in charge of everything. 'The man behind the mask,' so to speak."
"Mmm," Azrael mused, tilting his head back. "I see."
Silence seemed to be something that surrounded Azrael a lot that date because of everything that had happened. Neither one of them spoke for what felt to be an eternity when, really, it was no more than a few short minutes. It made the tension awful tedious and more intense between them as neither of the two had spoken in … well … over two years. Needless to say, they had a lot of catching up to do. Or Azrael does, at least. Shepard can't really say the same considering the two year coma felt like a full night of sleep for a human.
"I have a couple of more people to pick up," Damien finally broke down. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to come along and give me your two cents on them."
"Define a couple of more."
"Two … I think," he paused, checking the datapad on his omni-tool to make sure. "Yeah. Just two. One on Purgatory and the other on Korlus."
"Ah, Purgatory," Azrael's voice trailed toward the end. Clearly, he wasn't too keen on that.
"Do you … know something about the place?" Shepard's voice grew hesitant, concerned, when hearing the tone his dear friend used.
"A bit, yeah." He leaned his head against the wall and exhaled a harsh breath. "They're a … uh … they're a prison of sorts. Needless to say, they don't treat the prisoners all too well. And by they I mean the Blue Suns. They treat the prisoners there like a hunter would a feral beast out in the wild … or so I've heard."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"I see," Damien hummed out, resting his forearms on the corresponding knees with hands clasped together and fingers intertwined like a zipper. He never quite understood why such places — why such people — existed in the first place. And here he thought the prisons back on Earth were bad with how they treated the inmates. "Are you familiar with Korlus any?"
"Not really, no," he admitted, shaking his head. "I mean … like … I've heard of it, sure, but I'm no expert on it. I only know of Purgatory because of its reputation. I've actually been trying to come up with a decent enough reason to go there and check them out without causing a scene," the Symphonean chuckled. "I do know, however, that many consider Korlus to be a junk planet of sorts. Very messy and sloppy. Like a dumpster of sorts."
"Oh, fun," Damien joked as a shocked look panned across his eyes and a smile on his face. He did everything he could to not laugh only for it to fail miserably. "Maybe we can take the assholes from Purgatory and throw them onto Korlus when we're done. What do you think?"
Before Azrael could answer he furrowed cyan blue brows while thinking long and hard about the Commander's suggestion. It didn't sound like a half-bad idea the more he thought about it if he were to be brutally honest. Hell, even his Second-in-Command slash best friend slash ex-boyfriend would even like the idea. But Seto was far more sadistic than Azrael could ever be. Did it have to do with him being a redhead? Nah. That's stereotyping. He'd just always been like that. However, he would never — never — be a sadistic bastard without a good reason. In fact, Mordin reminded Azrael a little bit of Seto. Perhaps that's why he found him bearable and understood everything he said. The only difference was that Seto never talked as fast. The man was very … uh … eloquent with his words, so to speak, but not to the point of sounding demeaning or demoralizing.
"That's not a bad idea, actually," he finally admitted, lightly pointing an index finger in Damien's general direction.
"I'm glad you think so," Damien smiled a faint smile as he nodded all but a couple of times. "I'm generally not one to kill unless deemed necessary, you know this. Killing out of self-defense or because it's the only option left is one thing, sure, but killing for the sake of killing? Nah. Not my style. I've better things to do."
"Don't we all," Azrael added.
Their views were pretty similar on a lot of things, quite surprisingly. The only problem was that it took the Symphonean a good while to realize just how similar they truly were, him and Damien. Hell, it didn't really sink in until the conversation he had with the one girl back on the Citadel not too long after saving Liara on Therum.
Talitha.
Talitha was her name.