A/N
Well, I did say that I wanted to get chapters out faster. This is a little better than the last time. Who knows? Maybe it will be better next time too.
Thanks for the encouragement regarding the last chapter. A stealth mission with very little fighting is a little new to me so I am glad that most of you enjoyed it.
Not going to go into long explanations this time. Hope you enjoy the chapter. And I hope you are all staying COVID safe.
On with the story!
…
CHAPTER 22 – FULFILLING A PROMISE
The party was in full swing as the crew were celebrating our first successful operation. We were traveling back to Citadel space to head to a quiet handover of the slaves that were getting off at a safe port on Bekenstein. I know that the planet also happens to be a hotbed for corrupt business officials such as Donovan Hock, the guy Masumi has the mission for in ME2 but the planet itself is actually very safe.
I suppose that the rich and powerful tried to keep things quiet here and didn't do anything major to draw attention to themselves. After all, most of the business heads that stayed here had their direct competitors also staying on the planet. It made it harder for the corrupt officials to hire crooked cops here because there was always the ability for their competitors to hire the same crooked cops.
It was a moot point though. The cops on this planet were the best paid in Citadel space to prevent them needing to resort to taking bribes. As a result of all of this, Bekenstein didn't have any major problems with big crime gangs or slavery. That sort of thing drew attention that the big players didn't want.
It also made it completely safe as a place for us to drop slaves off to a Council repatriation service.
We had about thirty hours before we got there which meant that the party had plenty of time for people to recover. It was held in the mid crew deck and everyone had been invited, including the newly released slaves. Persei had been particularly helpful with them and had been doing her best to try and help them adjust to their newly freed status.
We just had to make a quick stop at Omega on the way there.
It was time to make good on my deal with Jurt.
The ground team would be involved and were in fact gearing up. Beau, Horaxes, Jurt… basically everyone combat-capable other than Torrin would be involved including the new turians and human guard. Torrin would be left behind to guard the ship. He wasn't overly happy about it but Beau had convinced me that it was appropriate punishment for knocking over the vase on the mission.
I was dressed back in my slave outfit. Liserias had been very explicit in describing my punishment if I were to self-harm for a reason that didn't satisfy her definition of 'necessary'. I was not willing to test her resolve.
I decided to say goodbye to the regular crew that were at the party, those who would be staying on the ship. I made my way with Beau and Jurt to the mid deck recreation lounge only to see something I had never expected to see.
Aleria and Carlos were off to one side, aggressively making out with each other.
Persei sidled up to us. "To be honest, it isn't because of his non-existent charm," she said. "I was nearby. Your young pilot had been drinking heavily and when he was leering at her in his creepy way and she fairly slurred out "You aren't Brock, but you'll do" before she kissed him."
"Huh," I responded dumbly, not entirely sure how to feel about that. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am not sure I could go for a woman that Carlos has touched first."
Beau grunted in amusement. "Yeah, I think that would be a deal breaker for anyone that has met the kid."
Persei was looking at me carefully. "Are you sure that you are not upset? I know that she and you are… close. She is also quite open about wanting to begin a romantic relationship with you. While I am not familiar with your species, I have noticed by your actions that you seemed to be reciprocating those feelings. It would be expected for you to feel annoyed or hurt that she has gone for another partner."
I thought about it for a moment, honestly trying to see how I felt about this new development. To be honest, I had been all too happy flirting back slightly with Aleria, even if I was deliberately holding myself back from beginning a new relationship. After the mess of my marriage and everything that had happened over the last couple of months, as well as my purpose and goals with the upcoming invasion, beginning a new relationship was certainly not a high priority.
Still, the flirting had been nice. It felt nice to be considered attractive to another person and it was harmless overall. However, I had ever actually considered taking it further. I knew I clearly was not ready. I enjoyed having a friend in Aleria and having someone that I could talk to, who had been willing to help me through the mess that was my previous life. But did that lead to me wanting a relationship?
Honestly, the answer was no. I could see Carlos trying to eat Aleria's face off, with her going right back at him, and I felt nothing. No jealousy, no anger, no arousal. Maybe a slight bit of disappointment that it was Creepy Carlos, as Ely had taken to calling him, but not for her hooking up with anyone. I was just not ready for any form of relationship and had no idea when I would be.
"I can say with all truth that this doesn't bother me at all," I eventually replied. "While flirting is fun, I am not looking for any form of commitment right now."
Persei gave a single slow nod, looking at me with evaluating eyes, and turned away to go talk with some of the more recently released slaves that had felt brave enough to join the party.
Jurt just gave a grunt. "Looks like you might have another one to consider later," he growled, nodding towards Persei.
I gave him a flat stare, then shook my head. "Come on, let's get out of here," I said, moving towards the elevator. "I would have thought there was another asari you would be thinking of right about now." If I wasn't ready for Aleria, I wasn't ready for Persei, so point thinking about it.
He growled again as he and Beau fell into step beside me. "Damn right. Just gotta stop by the armoury. Ha!"
…
In what was feeling like a recurring theme, I made my way into Afterlife again, Horaxes by my side in his stuffy but expensive 'Slave Owner' costume as he once again played the part of Nixus Arcemedes. We had Bolart accompanying us this time, as a completely suited up guard, wearing his helmet just to ensure that the chances of someone recognising him were nearly zero. Bolart was chosen at random, though it was either going to be him or Octavio, to help reinforce the idea of turians from the Terminus, which would have worked if we were to use Ted, being another human. Whatever, it made sense to me at the time.
Still, Octavio and Ted probably thought they were getting the better deal. They were off with Beau, Hectar and Ely on their own little mission. Shooting was possible. It was almost disturbing how eager Octavio's face had become when Liserias cleared him for this mission.
Ignoring the feeble protests of the patrons lined up outside, not being interfered with by the guards in the slightest, we made our way into the loud, nearly pulsating environment of the club.
We pushed through the crowds to the back of the club and made our way up the stairs. I made sure that I stayed in my slave persona the entire time, trying my best to avoid making physical contact with any of the beings in the crowded nightclub. I did notice that a batarian bartender was looking at me with a great deal of satisfaction. Seeing as there was the mission at some point where Shepard gets poisoned by the bartender, my guess that this bartender was the one who does it was probably not far off.
We finally made our way up to Aria's office, which was clear of the usual group of people that tended to hang around. The tough asari was standing there with only herself and four of her bodyguards, all batarians. I noticed Bray standing in the group and made sure to look at him for a long moment, as if I had recognised him, before turning my eyes to the ground ahead of me. I didn't fail to notice the four-eyed glare and the tightening of his jaw as he looked at me, but I couldn't respond to it.
"Mr Arcemedes," Aria greeted drily us as we stopped halfway up the stairs. "Glad to have you arriving so early. I take it you are ready to meet with Krashki?"
"Indeed I am, Lady Aria," Horaxes wheezed out in as slimy a manner as he was probably capable of. "Same place as last time?"
"Sure," she replied, looking over at me. "Let's get this over with."
She led the way to the same conference room as last time. He had the same guard as last time with him but was also joined by a collared asari. I took a quick moment to looked at her. She was definitely the one that Jurt had shown me of in his pictures. She was taller than most asari and had a few more scars, though not too many to show her as having been tortured anywhere close to me. Still, she was holding herself with a sort of quiet dignity that said was a credit to her strength that Jurt had fallen in love with. Though her face did fall slightly as she looked down at the scars littered over my body.
"Mr Arcemedes," Krashki said, nodding his head to the left slightly in a respectful greeting. "Good to see you again."
"Likewise, Noble Ak'kans," Horaxes replied in his affected voice.
"Oh none of that," Krashki replied, waving the formality away. "With a deal this large, you may call me by my first name."
"Indeed," Horaxes replied. "Then it is Nixus to you, Krashki."
"Splendid."
"Still," Horaxes cut in before Krashki could continue, "it is most unfortunate, my dear batarian. I truly do not wish to cause offence, especially now that we have come to a satisfying agreement, but I am just been informed of some rather urgent business regarding some shipments that have gone missing that I am most displeased by. While I am happy to share a drink at the conclusion of this deal, I must apologise that I will need to head off to see where this issue has originated."
"Ah most regrettable," Krashki nodded in understanding. "I sympathise and wish you success in retrieving your shipments."
Horaxes nodded his 'thanks' then lifted his arm and activated his omnitool. With the press of a few buttons, a million credits were transferred to Krashki. The batarian took a few moments to verify that the transfer was successful, then tapped away at the omnitool on his own wrist. Another few moments later, Horaxes' omnitool flashed slightly.
"Transfer of credits is successful and the transfer of ownership of the slave Polisa to Nixus Arcemedes is complete," the batarian declared. "Let us drink to our successful deal."
One of Aria's batarian guards brought forward two cups of alcohol, one levo-based for Krashki and one dextro-based for Horaxes.
This time, I stepped forward, using my own omnitool to 'scan' the drink. It was meant to make it look like I was checking for poison or other contaminants but truthfully, I was sending a message to Jurt. Be ready.
Once done, while I got some weird looks from Aria, Krashki and their guards but no one said anything as both the turian and the batarian lifted their glasses in a salute and downed their drinks.
As we turned to leave we stopped as Aria called out. "Mr Arcemedes, I would like a word before you leave. I might be able to help you with your search as payment for your delay."
Horaxes stopped and nodded at the asari pirate queen. With a final farewell, Krashki departed Aria's office and exited through the club, going through the back exit, down towards where Patriarch usually hid away in mourning for his reputation.
Right where I wanted him to go.
"What was that about?" Aria demanded.
I gave her my most innocent look. "What do you mean?"
She scowled back. "You go to a slave market and buy a whole bunch of slaves, then you attack a batarian compound, freeing more slaves, now you are going back to buying them again?"
I gave her a mock incredulous look. "My dear Aria, how could a respectable person, such as myself, ever consider attacking a batarian slave owner on Aratoht?"
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't ever think of me as a fool, Nielson," she growled. "We both know what happened, even if the batarian government doesn't."
I couldn't help myself from giving a confident smirk as I looked at her lazily. "I have no idea what you are talking about," I smiled. "My ship was safely docked in Bekenstein the last two weeks." And thanks to a bit of highly skilled hacking from my quarian crewmates, that is what all official records and video evidence would show.
Her glare increased, but I stared back, unimpressed, before I looked over at her guards with an eyebrow raised, my indication clear to her. "They are mine. There is no chance of leak there."
I give me a small condescending smile. "I am so glad you think so. Forgive me for not taking chances with someone whose goals don't necessarily match up to mine. We may have some things in common but don't think me foolish enough to go revealing my plans to you either. Especially when you helped facilitate my earlier activities and never protested once."
Her mouth twisted in a snarl for a moment before her face smoothed out to its normal harsh attractiveness. "Fair enough. But it better not cause me any trouble."
I gave her my biggest crap-eating grin. "I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear Aria."
…
Be ready.
Jurt looked at the message again, feeling the old stirring of anticipation as he readied his new weapon. It had taken the old turian gunsmith a while to work it properly but now the fruit of his labours were sitting in Jurt's three-fingered hands.
Old Horaxes, one of the few turians Jurt would admit to respecting enough to use his name, had taking the old human minigun and had converted it to mass effect technology. It now carried a massive ammo block and battery pack in his hands, attached to the rotating barrels that the minigun had made memorable. Instead of the ammo belt feeding bullets, there was now a belt that wrapped around Jurt's body to a large coolant pack on Jurt's back. The heat sinks were constantly fed between the coolant pack and the ammo block allowing the barrels to stay cool constantly and allowing the gun to fire longer and faster. The idea was borrowed from the internal coolant on the Butcher assault shotgun he had made.
The modified minigun could fire at around nine thousand shots a minute, which meant that the ammo block needed to be replaced more regularly than the far smaller blocks of regular assault rifles, even with the larger block size, but that was fine. The turian had made sure that there were two extra ammo block at the base of the coolant pack.
The weight of the whole pack was about eighty kilograms so only Jurt could handle it without difficulty but that didn't matter. The human, Brock, had his toys. Now Jurt had one too.
He had been waiting in this location for nearly fifteen minutes, having followed the batarian target from the aircar station through the lesser used paths to Afterlife. The guy couldn't have made it any easier.
Footsteps. Jurt heard footsteps, sounding very similar to those that he had followed on the way to his ambush spot. Two sets, as opposed to the three that he had followed when his beloved Polisa was walking with them. It had taken nearly all of his strength to not have ran out and killed the batarians then, escaping with Polisa back to the human ship. Still, even he admitted that this was better, even if it was not the krogan way of giving an actual physical beating. Far less likely to cause them problems in the long run.
The footsteps came closer and they rounded the last corner to become visible to Jurt. He had taken the precaution of painting his armour red to impersonate the Blood Pack, and worn his helmet to prevent being identified. No need to bring the heat on Brock's crew after all. The fact that it might cause problems for Garm was just an added bonus.
Now. The batarians were far enough down the hallway they had no chance of getting behind cover. Jurt walked out from behind the pillar he was standing next to, becoming visible to his targets.
Sure enough, they stopped. The guard raised his weapon. Not that it would do any good.
Without talking, Jurt raised the barrels of his new gun, aimed at the batarians, and held the trigger.
The sheer volume of pellets being fired out of the minigun was astounding. It jumped in Jurt's hands slightly until he adjusted the aim of it. It basically vibrated in his hands, feeling almost as eager as he himself to let loose at his enemies. The sound was loud, but surprisingly quieter than the average assault rifle; certainly quieter than the Butcher.
At nine thousand rounds a minute, the shields of the guard were overwhelmed almost instantly. His armour was punctured and shredded without mercy. For the unarmoured noble, his upper body was near-instantly turned into ground batarian beef. It almost made him feel hungry.
It was nearly a minute and a half later when he took his finger off the trigger, looking around at the damage done to the two batarians. It was nearly difficult to tell that they had once been batarians, and not some form of butchered cattle for the protein pits. They look like they could have been pushed through wood chippers. They certainly didn't look like vengeance had been done by a single krogan and his weapon.
Just as Brock had planned.
Jurt couldn't help the vicious grin, hidden behind his helmet, as he stared down at the cooling corpses. The man had owned his beloved Polisa. He knew how batarians treated their asari slaves. For what had undoubtedly been forced upon his mate, the guilty parties were never going to receive mercy.
He holstered the still warm barrels over his right shoulder and made his way out of the area. The vorcha would find the bodies soon enough. Time to go ditch the armour in the Blue Suns territory. After all, why couldn't trouble be given to them too? Damn slavers.
…
Beau stood still, watching the last of the innocents being removed from the batarian vessel. Hector was the last of their own crew in the corvette, finishing up on the programming of the autopilot program that was being loaded into helm console. Ely had already unlocked the engine and jiggled a few things around. The batarian noble that owned the ship had not kept many slaves with him when he travelled. Only enough for cleaning, cooking, sleeping and rotating them so he didn't get bored. So only six all up. Not including the one the boss had just gone to buy.
Octavio had gone around the ship one last time, smashing in the crew's heads with an iron bar that he had picked from somewhere. After all, blunt force wounds would be explainable on a corpse, gunshot wounds… not so much. Still, enthusiastic recruits were something that every trooper rejoiced in, and when it came to killing batarian slavers, they were certainly enthusiastic.
Hectar finally came out of the airlock, actually whistling as he did. The young quarian had come a long way with his confidence in the last few months. He was still shy around new people but around the crew he was really opening up well. It was actually kind of heart-warming to see.
"Ready to go," he declared, moving off to head back to the Enterprise.
Beau nodded and called out to Ely. "Active program on my mark. Mark."
With the hissing of released hydraulics, the batarian corvette pulled away from the docking bay and started to make its way out in to clear space. The heading was in the general direction of the Relay but not close enough to it to matter.
It didn't take long, barely two minutes after the corvette had cleared the docking arm, merely a couple thousand kilometres away, a small flare in the distance lit up in the open. The corvette burned brightly for about three seconds before the explosion faded away without any oxygen to keep it going.
Beau turned back to the group with him. The six newly freed slaves were staring out at that spot with open awe, fairly gawking at the display.
"Come on, everyone," he called, already making to follow Hectar on his journey back to their ship. "Freedom awaits on yonder shores."
…
Aleria moaned slightly as she woke, the lights sending a small spike of pain into her brain as she lay on the bed. The party last night had been a great chance to unwind after the stress of the last few weeks and the tension she had felt as Brock and the ground team had been on Aratoht freeing slaves. She wasn't ashamed to admit how worried she had been for Brock and the others.
The party brought out the maiden in her, letting her let go and feel free in a way that she didn't usually let herself go. She was more reserved than the asari that ended up as dancers on Omega and she didn't have the inclination for personal violence that led many maidens to become mercenaries. She had something that a human on the Citadel told her was 'wanderlust'; she loved to travel.
And it was so very rewarding, being on Brock's crew. Already in the short couple of months that she had been on the Enterprise she had earned millions of credits and had a planet named after her. All those girls in school that had told her that she would never be as good as them for not being involved in fighting or fashion could go suck a moss rock.
The pain in her head throbbed a little and she screwed her eyes shut and shuffled a little under the blanket.
And froze.
She felt something. She twitched again. It was still there. Right on her waist. She brought up a hand slightly and felt it. A five-fingered hand.
Her eyes shot open and she couldn't help beaming, ignoring the slight hangover symptoms. She had done it! She had finally landed Brock! Something that she had wanted since basically she had met him, though the reasons for it had changed after she had gotten to know him. She had truly come to care for the human and was feeling ecstatic as she snuggled backwards into his warm chest. She felt his breath on the back of her neck and ran her hand softly over the smooth skin of his forearm, enjoying the…
Wait. She ran her hand over the smooth skin again.
Brock didn't have smooth skin. He had scarred and burnt skin that felt rough and bumpy under her hands.
She froze again, the turned her head slightly until she could see over her shoulder. Only to see a mop of mid length dark hair.
Carlos.
The headache came back with a vengeance as she tried to process what had happened last night at the party. She had been drinking. Brock wasn't in the room because he was getting ready for the meeting with Aria with Jurt and the turian gunsmith. And…
By the Goddess. She had been the one to initiate it! A rumbling in her stomach that she had to fight to prevent losing her stomach's contents. She wiggled again and the stickiness between her thighs let her know that it hadn't been just an innocent passing out that had led to this position.
Her heart dropped. What had she done? Never mind that she had likely undone all the work that she had put in to getting Brock to like her and see her as a romantic option. She had slept with Carlos of all people.
Pulling her thoughts back together, she pushed the arm that was holding her naked body off and threw it behind her, more forcefully than she probably intended but right now she didn't care.
"Wake up, she hissed at the human. "Wake up and get out of my bed."
"Huh," Carlos opened his eyes blearily and blinked a few times before he pushed his face back to his pillow. "It's too early. Come back to bed."
"NO!" she snarled, ignoring the pounding in her head that had not gone away yet. "Get out of my bed and go away before someone sees you."
He raised his head from the pillow and looked at her, his skin giving off a waxy sheen in his obviously hung over state. "Huh? But this is my room. Why should I leave?"
Aleria froze for a moment then sat up and looked around. Sure enough, she was in Carlos' room, not her own. Cursing, she threw herself out of the bed and looked around for her clothes. Finding her ripped shirt, bra and pants, but not her knickers, she quickly threw on the clothes, only noticing as she finished that Carlos had been watching her the whole time with a hungry expression. Though it did come off as more constipated than anything, given the hangover the human clearly had.
"Stop staring at me," she ordered, feeling sick in a way that had nothing to do with the hangover.
"You know, you are awfully uptight for someone that just had sex," he grumbled.
"Shut up!" she spat at him. "This was a mistake and would never have happened if I had been sober."
"Man, you're loud," he complained with a yawn, ignoring her statement. "Why ae you making such a fuss now?" He blinked blearily and looked over at the clock on his wall with a frown. "Ah hell, I'm late for work."
"That's what you're annoyed about!?" she exclaimed angrily.
"Hey calm down," he said in what he clearly thought was a soothing voice but only came across as tired and sleazy. "Maybe you still need to unwind. Why don't we go again? That might help knock the stick out of your ass."
She gaped at him in disbelief and fury. She bit her tongue to stop her yelling at him and marched towards the door, opening it with a hiss, only to stop dead in her tracks.
Brock had his hand raised, clearly about to knock.
And she was walking out, clearly doing what some humans had told her was the walk of shame. Right in front of the human she had actually wanted to be involved with.
The blood fled her face as she stared at his impassive expression. His stone-like face not giving a hint of his thoughts but completely devoid of all the warmth she usually saw when he looked at her. Her heart plummeted to new lows and she could feel tears starting to prick the outside of her eyes.
"Aleria," he said, his voice not condemning but lacking any emotion. "Your shift begins in twenty minutes." He looked over her shoulder. "And yours began nearly an hour ago Carlos. I don't care if the crew get involved with each other but I will take issue if it interferes with your duties. You will report to Ely in the next fifteen minutes and you will be docked today's pay. If you are any later than that, you will lose the whole week and receive a second official warning. The third time will mean your dismissal from my company. Now get out of bed."
"Fine," Carlos grumbled behind her.
Brock gave her a stiff nod and walked away, taking the rest of Aleria's strength with him and she collapsed to her knees.
"Just because I got you first," Carlos whined with a sneer.
She didn't remember standing and certainly didn't remember walking back to the mechanic but the next thing she realised was the loud cracking sound and the sting in the palm of her hand and she smacked Carlos in the face as hard as she could.
"Don't you dare say anything bad about him!" she spat. "And you don't 'have' me. You better hope that you remember this for the rest of your miserable little life because this will never happen again."
She turned and marched out the room as fast as her shredded dignity would let her. Angry tears were pouring down her cheeks as she departed.
Things didn't improve as she reached her room and opened the door, just to find Brock sitting on her bed.
The tears came harder as she saw him there, waiting patiently and she collapsed to her knees again, crying openly and failing to stop herself from doing it.
A hand on her shoulder got her looking up at Brock's concerned face.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped out. "I never wanted… I, I'm sorry."
He just gave a small sad smile. "I know, deary. I truly do know. Think you can come sit up on the bed? It's a bit more comfortable."
She continued to sniffle as she got shakily to her feet and sat on the bed, further away from the human than she normally would. She didn't want to sit too close to him, mindful as she was of the bodily fluids that had not yet been washed off her body.
She heard a sigh, even though she didn't yet have the courage to look at him.
"You know," he said, "I know I have never been the best at emotions. I guess it made being a prison guard easier. I would have emotions, get angry, whatever, then I would let them go. Otherwise I would never have been able to deal with prisoners threatening me daily, handling paedophiles or dealing with staff that had egos bigger than their bank accounts. The only reason I was able to get with my wife was that I showed interest but she had to make it clear that she was willing to go on a date before I even asked."
He gave a small grunt of amusement. "But just because I was more oblivious back then, I mentally could still see the signs. It was actually my wife that made me realise how to tell if a woman was interested. Not because she wanted me to stray; I think she was trying to stop me being able to claim I was clueless if a woman was flirting with me and I thought they were just being nice and replied in kind.
"But it did help me know when a woman was interested in me," he continued. Aleria felt her stomach twist further. "And so, even though asari are actually women by the traditional standard, I have actually been aware that you were seeking a romantic relationship for the last month or so."
There was a long pause before Aleria was able to draw up the courage to ask the first thing on her mind. "Then why didn't you say anything?"
He gave another, deeper sigh. "Because I am still messed up with everything. Not long ago I watched my son be butchered. I was stuck in a torture dungeon for months being systematically broken piece by piece. And I don't think I ever told you but it was my wife that organised it all."
She felt a wave of shock push through her misery as she finally looked at him. She had known about the tortures, but the fact that his wife instigated it was not known.
"I am not telling you this for pity, but more to explain," he stated, looking in her eyes. "Emotionally, I am messed up as far as relationships are concerned. I know for a fact that I am not ready for a relationship. When I saw you at the party kissing Carlos, I expected to feel angry, maybe jealous. But truth is… I felt nothing."
The hammer blow to her heart was almost physical. She could feel the tears welling up again.
"I know this sounds cliché, but honestly, you are not the problem. You are beautiful, funny, caring, smart, talented, just the right amount of naughty. Honestly, any person would be thanking their lucky stars if they were given your time."
"But not you," she muttered, staring at the floor. The kind things he said did help her feel a little better, but not enough.
He gave yet another sigh. "I am more sorry than you can know," he grumbled. "Clearly that bitch had more of an effect on me than I realised. I can still look at a woman, or an asari, and find you incredibly attractive. But the idea of having a relationship yet… it just make me feel sick. I don't know how long I am going to feel that way but I really am not ready for one yet." He hummed to himself. "I guess it is kind of similar to how the women and asari we have rescued feel from the batarians. The thought of being with a partner after what they went through can almost cause physical revulsion, going from what you aunt told me."
That… made sense. If he had been damaged by the idea of what his wife had done, then that would be why he had never responded to her clear signs of interest. It made her feel… not better, but less worse.
"Now, I would normally give you a hug to help you feel better," he said, and she finally looked up at him, seeing him looking at her post-coital hygiene, "but I think you need a very cleansing shower to get rid of any of all traces of last night's… activities.
Her stomach threatened to rebel again at the realisation that she had slept with Carlos of all people. This was a mistake that left her feeling dirtier than the dried fluids that were left on her skin. It felt like she had a stain on her very soul.
"Right," she muttered, standing up. She was feeling… not necessarily better, but less bad now that she had talked to Brock. Still, it felt like something that could have been between them was now lost and she wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. She vowed to herself though that she would wait and hope for a chance to get it back in the future, no matter how long it took her human boss to feel ready. Even if he chose someone else, she would help him get there. "I think I am going to be late for work."
He gave a rueful smile. "Yes," he agreed. "That's probably for the best."
…
Aria was looking at the images that had been sent to her desk computer. It didn't make sense.
Krashki had been killed and his ship had left the station, only to explode a short distance away. Her first thought was that it was Brock Nielson. It didn't matter what he said, she knew that he had been the one to attack that noble on Aratoht. Not that it really mattered to her. The noble was nobody in the big picture. As long as nothing pointed to her, she didn't really care with that sort of thing that happened far away from Omega.
What confused her now was the scale of damage that had occurred. It looked like a full squad had gone out and absolutely massacred Krashki and his guard on their way back to his ship. But while Brock was her prime suspect, it was hard to prove it because he had been in her office at the suspected time of death. And she had had him quietly followed after he had left. He had gone straight back to his ship, not even stopping for food. The human certainly didn't seem to enjoy the sights that her Omega had to offer. Maybe she should… persuade him.
Cameras confirmed that his crew hadn't left the docking bay, although they had moved to the area where Krashki's ship had been but the cameras had been down in that part of the docking bay for at least a week. The only one that had left the area, other than Brock and his two puppets, was the krogan. But the sheer damage was far more than what a single person could do. No weapon she knew of could do that.
Though if it had been one person, they either had to be carrying a full armoury worth of weapons, or have a new weapon capable of mass slaughter. The thoughts of it being that last one were… concerning. Especially if it was used against her. Better not risk anything. If Brock was behind a new weapon that could do this, probably better to not antagonise the human or his crew more than necessary.
The only rumours were that Blood Pack was somehow involved. A krogan in red armour had been seen leaving the area. Combined with the vorcha that had started eating the body before anyone else had found it seemed to give the idea merit.
Still, if it was Nielson… well, it spoke of a brutality and ruthlessness that she couldn't help admire, as well as a cunning that she couldn't help respecting. So long as he didn't plan on making an attempt at Omega, she didn't care what he did. She would probably even enjoy watching the chaos.
For now though, she needed to make sure that there were no reprisals amongst the merc gangs here. The Blue Suns were accusing the Blood Pack of framing them for a massive shooting and the Blood Pack wanted whatever weapons that had killed Krashki. What an annoying mess.
…
A/N Please review and follow/favourite as you please.
So yeah. I am thinking that many people were a little surprised about the Aleria situation. To be honest though, this has been planned for a long time. I know some people will wish it had not gone this way but I will write my story and I think you will like it.
Anyway, I hope you will stick around for the next chapter. It's not finished yet but has been planned out.
Stay safe.
