CHAPTER 3
Rosemary didn't need a mirror to know what she looked like. Despite having mocha brown skin, in situations like this, she always turned out the same way: blotchy. Her complexion became a confusing mixture of caramel, strawberry, and spoiled cream splotches. How did he...?
"H-How?" How close were he and Saeli? Had she told him? Oh, the betrayal! - her inner voice wailed.
Balint's smirk deepened, but his voice was not unkind. He tapped the visor over his left eye. Rosemary frowned, suddenly remembering that Garrus, Imitha's brother, wore one very similar to it.
"It's the latest Kuwashii visor. Standard issue for C-Sec. Just came in a few days ago."
"Oh." Okay...?
"It's now comes with an auditory function."
"Oh... no..."
Balint grinned. "It picks up and enhances sound. You and Saeli were just... within range."
She wanted to die. No, not die. But perhaps swallowed whole by the ground? Whatever she wanted, she just didn't want to be here. Wallowing in horrored humiliation.
"My squad thanks you for the compliments. You've made quite a few of us interested in humans."
Oh. Reapers. What was she supposed to say to that? Wait. Did he just say...? Had he become interested in humans? A part of her was flattered for a second and a half, but mostly, she became... wary. "Is that why you came here," she asked quietly, inwardly wincing at her cracked voice.
Balint didn't seem to know what she was asking at first. It took him a few seconds, but when he realized how she had taken his comment, he was quick to assure her. "No, I didn't... What I meant to say was... Well, you can relax. We were flattered, but I came here mostly out of curiosity. Saeli says... fa-chow-cheen-ohs are amazing. I wanted to try one."
Rosemary relaxed. "It's frappuccinos, and I'm glad you liked it." Clearing her throat, she felt obliged to inform him, "I'm sorry, but this is the last day..."
"Last day?"
"My dad sold Wakey Brews," she found herself grumbling.
Before she knew it, she found herself explaining the situation to Balint, the object of a few months' salivations. He listened to her vent, only asking a question here and there. Rosemary reasoned that she would have vented to anyone, only he had been the first available person for her to vent to. She hadn't seen Saeli since the other day, and Imitha had her own troubles. Balint was a willing ear, and it happened to be what she needed at the moment.
"So... my father wants a new start for all of us. He's thinking Philly, but I'm... thinking the Citadel. It's crazy, right? I mean, I haven't even been off-planet." She sighed. "I bet it's amazing."
Balint shrugged. "It's not bad. The view's fine, if you're into the 'empty black void' thing."
Rosemary chuckled. "You sound like a spacer."
Balint shook his head. "Nah. Born and raised on Palaven. I just prefer more... green horizons. The view here's not bad, either."
"Ha ha. You're just torturing me, aren't you," she accused.
"Maybe."
"Ass," she grumbled under her breath. "Make fun of the poor little human with the turian fetish. Damn cruel."
"What was that?"
Rosemary shook her head. "Just wondering aloud what I'd even do on the Citadel."
Balint looked thoughtful. "I've been assigned as one of the Councilor's guards. I could check to see if C-Sec has any openings for you. What are you good at?"
Rosemary's expression fell. "Um..."
"Any good with guns? Tech? Biotics?"
Rosemary sighed. "No, no, and... no. I'm good with coffee. And books?"
"Books? Real books? With paper?"
He was laughing at her. "Shut up." Rosemary tried to sound stern, but failed. She was used to people laughing at her hobby. She smiled with him.
After he was done laughing, he thought of something else. "You could still apply to C-Sec. A lot of clerical positions have opened up. The Citadel's back in order, but it won't be for long. There's going to be a lot of gang activity - everyone fighting over territory. We can't afford to have able-bodied officers sitting behind desks."
There was hope. Shyly, she thanked him. "Thank you... Mr. Fortem?"
"Call me Balint. It was nice to meet you, Rosemary."
XOXOXOXO
Ever since Shepard had sacrificed herself to bring the galaxy peace through synthesis, everyone's way of life had drastically changed. The formerly organic races still ate food to fuel their bodies, but as long as there was sunlight, they couldn't starve. Good old solar power was now everyone's backup generator, so to speak.
For a year after Shepard's Synthesis (so dubbed by the Crucible scientists), everyone had been aglow with green energy. The green had faded, but flared to life in a person's eyes when sparked by heightened emotions.
Sunbathing had become all the rage. Nearly every building on Earth now had a sunbathing roof, for people to soak up the rejuvenating rays. Rosemary's apartment building was no exception. She went up to the roof to capture the day's first rays. They weren't as potent as full sunshine, but Rosemary did what she could. She had a busy day ahead of her.
The apartment building's roof was a maze of sunbathing stalls. Rosemary entered a stall and closed the door behind her before she started undressing. The stall's mirrored walls dully reflected her naked body as she laid down on a worn sunbathing mat. In the back of her mind, she made a note to wipe down every stall's walls. The landlord wouldn't handle it. He was a worthless, lazy sleaze.
Rosemary didn't worry about shuttles flying over; sunbathers could be seen by passing shuttles, but there was a strict no-flyover law about human sunbathing roofs. In Little Palaven, however, they weren't so shy about nudity. The law was looser here. But this was just after dawn. No one was ever around at this time.
And it wasn't like she was something great to peek at, Rosemary thought, glancing at her reflection. She wasn't overweight, but she was still... soft. She didn't have an athletic bone in her body, she thought with a sigh. She was once told by a random creep that she had 'good, child-bearing hips', but that no one liked a 'fat ass' anymore. The combination of her African American father and Spanish mother had given her a smooth, mocha complexion, and loose, chocolate curls. She had always been quite proud of her ample bosom... but not anymore.
On a drunken night out with Imitha, Imitha had teased Rosemary mercilessly about her body. Rosemary had gotten quite a few looks from admiring humans, and Imitha had chuckled and said that was a good thing - because she wouldn't stand a chance with a turian male. Turians liked their women with a trim waistline, slim chest, and angular lines. Saeli didn't agree with Imitha, as she and Rosemary had similar bodies. Saeli had had turian lovers before, after all. She didn't know who to believe, but Imitha's words made her think of how she looked to a turian. Lumpy. They probably thought of her as lumpy, soft, and gross.
Rosemary relaxed and let the soft rays of sunlight dance on her back. Was she truly the only one out sunbathing at this hour? Probably not. Thinking about naked turian males made her cheeks heat. After ten minutes, she turned over. She stared at the sky for a minute before making her decision. She got up, and got dressed.
She stood at the head of the stairs leading into the building, and called her father on her omni-tool.
He answered her second call. He was at a shuttle-stop, on his way to work. "What is it, Rose?" He sounded tired. He always sounded tired.
"I don't want to live in Philly," she blurted out.
Her father was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Rose. But I need a change. I... can't stand to be here."
"I understand, Dad, but let's not move to Philly."
"Where then?"
Rosemary took a breath. Here we go. "Can we live on the Citadel? I know it'll be expensive, but I can take a job at C-Sec and..."
"Fine."
Rosemary deflated. Really? Just... 'fine'? She had memorized a whole speech... "Really?"
"Yes. We don't need to worry about credits for a while, anyway. The Alliance paid us well. The Citadel should be fine. Please tell your brother and make the arrangements. I have to go, Rose. I'll see you later."
Rosemary was left staring at her omni-tool, feeling both horrible and elated. His voice had been uncaring... dead. He really didn't care about anything anymore, she thought miserably. Her side twitched with pain; she dug out her prescription tube from her pants. She lifted her shirt and applied soothing ointment to the old bite mark on her side. It was a souvenir from when a husk had almost killed her in the War of the Reapers. It had tore into her side with its teeth before an Alliance Marine had blasted it off of her. It still stung every now and then.
After helping the galaxy rebuild most of their worlds and the mass relays, the Reapers and their abominations had retreated to dark space, away from those they had take away from, killed, and mutated. She couldn't wish them well. She really couldn't. She hated them.
She couldn't understand their reasoning for trying to destroy all organic life. She could believe that there would always be war between synthetics and organics - but even now, when they were all synthesized, they still warred with each other. It was part of being... alive. A war between machines and their creators was just another war. Wars were always waged over territory, personal grudges, and resources. Pointless. What the Reapers had done was mass-murder, with no point to it at all. God, she hated them.
She would never forgive them. Especially since... She banished the thought from her mind. It would only bring pain. She had just entered her apartment when someone knocked on the door she had just closed. She put her robe back on. "Who is it," she called through the door.
"Garrus Vakarian."
