My heart still thumped until Satrino gave me the green. No one else was on the Starquake and nothing was wrong with her other than the bullets to the exterior of the cockpit. Already the engineers set to work to repair those. With the ship safe, it was time for the second half of my nightmare. Gideon showed me the video on his computer, captured from the visor he wore on his head. True to his word, Rolidin's face froze on the screen. No audio though, he said the microphone kept acting up. The video was all we needed anyway. With a copy in hand – and skulking son beside me, trapped with Satrino on his other flank – we began the long march to the Tower. Gideon will experience the joy of consequence and maybe save my ass and have Council to waive the offence, since he was the one who committed it. Not that Gideon knew this. Satrino figured out my plan during the walk to the Tower. And he smirked the entire way there. Both of us shared a knowing gaze over his head. Satrino led us through the corridors leading to the Inner Council Chamber, somewhere even I didn't frequent that often. Satrino paused by a door, signalling me to straighten my back. The door vanished into the frame with a silent glide, exposing us to the small, oval room. The four Councillors awaited, seated behind a curved table at the back.
"Councillors," I greeted, saluting. Gideon shuffled beside me, eyes everywhere.
"You don't visit the Citadel without some form of drama, do you?" Valern said. A strained smile tugged my lips up.
"It comes with the territory, I'm afraid," I said.
"Setting off every alarm in Citadel Control is higher than usual, however," Tevos said. "I am unsure how you released the docking clamps without permission and without damaging the dock system,"
"Well, I cannot answer that, Councillor," I said. Frowns appeared, my gut churning. "I was not onboard at the time. Commander?" Satrino saluted at the signal.
"Commander Satrino Wilcerous, Citadel Security. I led the charge onto the Starquake once it docked," he introduced. Udina opened his mouth, but Sparatus hushed him, eyes on the turian. "We stormed the Starquake after the clamps secured. After the 2 minute long raid, we found the ship had 1 occupant and only one," He shifted his eyes to Gideon, his eyes skin growing paler. He realised what was happening. "One Gideon Shaik was the single soul onboard. He has confessed to piloting the Starquake,"
The Councillor's shifted their eyes to the blond boy beside me. Gideon trembled, taking a shuffled step back. He froze when he felt my hand pushing his shoulder forward. He whimpered, the trembling worsening. The four people spoke hushed whispers, murmuring their questions and battle strategy. Even Satrino would have difficulty hearing them. My jaw locked to stop me chewing my lip. The mother in me hated pushing Gideon into this den of lions, but Gideon was just about young enough for guilt tripping. That and I had a few questions myself, part of me doubted my motherly authority would be enough to loosen those lips.
"Shaik, if expected us to go easy on you for neglecting your child by abandoning him alone on your ship-" Udina began. My growing glare silenced him.
"I had systems in place to keep at minimum 5 members of my crew on deck at all times, Councillor. I will investigate why this has failed. However, Gideon is here to explain the situation. I advocate," My bones chilled at the word. "That all children should learn that actions have consequences, regardless of how pure the intention was. Now is a good time for Gideon to learn this," I said, forcing my jaw to open, struggling to keep my temper from exploding. Satrino grinned at my expense.
"And you believe his intentions are pure, as you say? This is not an unsupervised child stealing his mother's ship to go for a joyride?" Sparatus asked. My shoulders squared.
"Why take my word on the matter when you can hear it for yourself, Councillor," I said. Sparatus waved his mandibles. The eyes shifted to Gideon. He quaked, pressing his back into my stomach. My hands squeezed his shoulder, bending down to whisper in his ear. "Deep breaths. Just explain what happened," I said, keeping the pressure on his shoulders. He needed to do this, this could only benefit him. Maybe this is a stepping stone in overcoming his anxiety of strangers. If he could get over this, his future was brighter. He wouldn't never have to worry about dealing with people again
"Good afternoon, Gideon. We have spoken once before as I recall," Tevos greeted. Gideon swallowed hard, shaking under my hands.
"I-I remember, Councillor," he said.
"Now, I need you to be honest with me, child. Did you take the Starquake with malicious intent?" she asked. Gideon blinked, expression blanking. He turned to face me. A cough spurted free, leaning down to his ear. He needed to work on his internal dictionary.
"Did you take the ship for badness," I said. Gideon paled, jaw dropping.
"W-What? N-No! W-Why would I do that!? The Starquake's my home!" Gideon exclaimed. My hands tightened on his shoulders to tame him.
"Why did you take the ship then?" Valern asked. Gideon shuddered, but his eyebrows drew too down far to be fear. My chest tightened, feeling tension crawl over his shoulders. Was it my hands on his shoulders reminding him mama thresher maw was here so he didn't have to control his tongue?
"Because I was about to have 8 armed salarians board the ship, one of which is a Saboteur and I suspect a second was with him," Gideon said, his tone levelling with each word he spoke. "I'm sorry I didn't want to die or worse," he added, as sour as he could muster. He sulked at my tut, a weak glare on his face.
"Saboteurs?" Udina asked, eyebrows raising. "You are certain?"
"I have eyes, a database and a brain," Gideon said, teeth gnashing. My head shook, sparing the Councillors from him by broadcasting the footage from his visor via my omni-tool. It paused and focused on focused the salarians, Rolidin clear as day.
"Rolidin Ker'lis, confirmed Saboteur within the STG. He has been missing since late 2183," I said. "We also suspect the pale blue salarian beside him is also a Saboteur, but we are unsure where she is infiltrated into,"
"I see, not such a simple situation then," Tevos said, softening her tone. "I imagine it was a terrifying experience," The rising smile hid itself behind the mask of professionalism. Now the tone is changing…
"I had to move the Starquake," Gideon sighed, voice weakening with the atmosphere. "They looked equipped with bombs or something. I don't know what is in those pouches. But if they found me then… they want mum dead. I won't be used against her!" he snapped, the fire burning again.
"It is dangerous, however," Sparatus interrupted, his harsh voice not taken by the situation. "You overrode the docking clamps – which I wish to know how you did so – and then flew a ship through some of the busiest traffic in the galaxy. How were you able to fly the Starquake to begin with?" Gideon flushed under the questions, shuffling. The quivering returned.
"Uh…well, I-I'm good with computers and code so… I-I hacked the system. G-Given the circumstances, I was desperate enough so anything was possible," he coughed. "And I uh… have basic flying experience already so-"
"How old are you, boy?" Udina asked. Gideon flushed harder.
"I'll be 13 in April," he said, voice quiet.
"Well below the legal piloting age," Udina said, diverting all eyes to me. My back straightened under their gaze.
"Shuttles only, Councillors, and within unpopulated systems. The law states that private Class B-2 craft, of which our smaller shuttles fall within, can be piloted by minors if accompanied by a full licenced pilot who has held a licence for at least 5 years and that the piloting itself must stay within systems of no to sparse populations, systems of no political or economic value or systems with the consent of the owner. Gideon is receiving basic shuttle piloting under the keen eye of my pilot, Flight Lieutenant Commander Lanster Taynus. You are more than welcome to look through his documentation to verify he is legal to teach. You can also check the flight logs Flight Lieutenant Commander Taunus has kept of Gideon's piloting," I said. God, how many times had I practiced those words for this moment?
"Piloting a shuttle is not the same as a frigate, one of this engine calibration is difficult and unpredictable in unexperienced hands," Sparatus said.
"it's not that hard," Gideon said, shuffling. "S-Sure, it's larger and has a lot more controls but the basics are there. And the autopilot is easier to use than a shuttle's. Not that hard to tell it to leave dock, fly a flight path and then dock again…" The Council fell silent, assessing his words and the rest of the evidence. They pulled together, muttering amongst themselves as my grip on Gideon trembled. At that moment, the ache of my muscles snapped me to reality. Every muscle trembled, held too tight. We had so much stacked in our favour, but the Council would find something to use against me. They'd find something. Tevos sighed, straightening.
"Given the situation, it is clear Gideon moved the Starquake from dock to preserve both ship and life from a hostile boarding. However," she said, a hard stone churning in my stomach. "Hacking Citadel Control is a serious and illegal activity. While I appreciate the young Shaik feared for his life and safety, he still should have gone through the correct channels,"
"But I wouldn't be here if I told the tower! What would happen? Set off sirens, making the Saboteurs run into the Starquake even faster or run out and gun down anyone who stood between them?" Gideon snapped. My hands jerked him, but it did little to calm the boiling anger in his stomach. My heart clenched.
"And we appreciate that. However, we cannot sit by and allow someone with technical skills to hack into the most protected computer systems we have to go unpunished," Valern said.
"So… what? You going to send me to jail?" Gideon asked, fear drowning in his voice. Gideon, in juvie at his age, oh fuck it would ruin his life! My blood pooled in my toes.
"You are a little too young for prison time," Udina said, sharing a look with the Councillors. Gideon's trembling passed to me, worsening the weakening building in my knees. What the hell were they going to do with him? Udina brought up a screen before him, his fingers tapping away. My heart thundered in my ears, knuckles white, not that Gideon cared.
"Gideon Shaik, for your crime of illegal hacking into Citadel Control, we – the Council – sentence you to 3 A grades and no less than B's within your Class 12 Intergalactic Education Courses," Tevos said.
"What?" Gideon and I said, frozen in place. The Councillors smiled.
"One of which must be your Computing Science module," Valern added. Gideon and I, petrified to stone, stood, waiting for the words to sink in. My hand slammed onto my chest, begging to reach in and grab my aching heart. My other hand found Satrino's shoulder, doubling over as relief flooded me. Satrino burst out laughing.
"I don't know who's taking the bigger heart attack, Shaik or the kid," he laughed. My breath escaped in a wheeze. The hand on my chest flailed for his hand and placed it over my thundering heart. He laughed harder. Gideon doubled over, hands on his knees.
"I can't… I can't take… anymore heart attacks today," I gasped. Satrino smirked. A weak glare stained my face as the Council chuckled. Gideon whined.
"Now, Captain Shaik, if we may have a moment," Tevos said. My heart crashed into my already aching chest, cold seeping into my bones. My back straightened. Tevos glanced to Satrino and Gideon before focusing on me. My cheeks stained pink.
"Commander, could you escort my son back to the Starquake? Place him under the eye of Commander Delern. He won't let him pull anything," I said, readying myself. Satrino smirked as he spied Gideon's growing 'Dear God, no' expression.
"Certainly. Councillors," he saluted before grabbing Gideon's scruff and dragged him out.
"She said escort, not drag!" he whined.
"Same thing," he said. A small smile lifted as his cries faded with the closing doors. My mood sobered as the Councillor's expressions dropped. Without Gideon to shield me, now it was time for the real grilling…
"Wants to be a pilot, does he? Thinks he knows it all, does he?" Dell grumbled as a shuttle rolled over the Starquake like a lazy brick. "And I don't call that good clearance!"
"Muuuuum!" Gideon wailed over the radio. Lanster laughed in the background. She scowled as the shuttle disappeared behind the rotary. No amount of trying could hide the smirk on my face.
"Oh give the kid a break, he's learning," I said. She frowned straining her neck backwards to glower.
"You weren't the one who ended up getting their ass set on fire and thrown to a thresher maw, Val," she said, grumbling. My head shook, smirk growing as the shuttle swerved wide around the ship, if only to keep Dell from complaining again. Dell wanted to leave the Citadel as soon as she could, in case the Council dragged her back in for round 2. Now we floated in a nice, quiet system a few relay jumps away from the Citadel and any further scolding, much to the pleasure of our captain.
"Dell, the Council have told you to keep a high ranking officer on deck at all times, fortify the sign-in and out systems, keep Gideon from hacking any more Citadel based systems and no frigate piloting until he's 18," I said, leaning on the back of her chair to smile where she could see it. Her frown deepened.
"After restricting our funding for 2 months, demanding updates every second day, threatening to throw more Spectres on board, calling me an irresponsible parent, a lack-lustre captain and my person favourite, Queen of the fuck-ups," she said, borderline baring teeth. My teeth clamped together to stop the smile rising up.
"Who said that one?" I asked.
"Udina. Sparatus laughed," she said. A snort of laughter burst free before I could stop it, throwing my head back to avoid a swipe from the human.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, I've already torn into Andria, Hagan, Erikos, Henry and Etal for ignoring protocol, since they were the last to sign-out. They are sheepish about the whole thing," I said. Dell grumbled.
"Appreciated," she said. "Right Lanster, bring Gideon in in the next 30 minutes. I've got report writing to do on and he has to get to bed," she ordered, heaving herself to her feet.
"Roger that, Captain," Lanster said, still chuckling. Gideon's grumbles echoed in the background.
Dell turned and abandoned the bridge with a firm shake of her head. All the while, Raisha hovered nearby but said nothing, eyes on her datapad. A frown crossed my face, but thought better than to get myself into an argument. It was a good time to leave and inspect whether my underlings had done their jobs. Inspections to oversee, armour upgrades to assess and the batteries needed a once over with a combat eye rather than an engineering one. No doubt Shayan would complain though, not that it mattered. 'Nice and shiny' didn't mean functional. Annoying engineering in the evening was a no-no. The last time we tried battery inspections at 9 at night they threw spanners at us and threatened to vent ezzo in our direction. Something about crucial work when the ship was winding down. Engineering worked when we slept. At least get the weapons inspection started, otherwise I'd be cursing my laziness tomorrow.
Down in the cargo hold, the refreshing scent of burnt heat sinks, oil and the trace of ezzo stung the back of my throat. Dell ordered more gun lockers the other week, so the Combat team sat around organising everything. Or trying, without a watchful eye they'd just throw everything everywhere. With Dell's permission, after a 'small' debate, she gave me permission to standardise the weapons. Dell argued that giving everyone their preferred weapon meant less misfires or mistakes. I argued it made things more expensive, harder to repair everything and a good soldier should be able to pick up any gun and wield it like their own hands. She didn't have an argument to that, she wasn't experienced enough in this field. The cut to funding put the standardising on hold. My hands popped the first Assault Rifle gun locker open, assessing the layout before opening my omni-tool. The reports highlighted a few problems, time to see if they needed urgent repairs. looked down the M-15 Vindicator, one of only 2 on the ship. Everyone was moving onto Mattocks, after looking through the Constellation standardisation – no, I wasn't jealous of their clean, neat, efficient system – but we still had a third of the rifles as different models. The mismatched assault rifles inspection proved a few people were too picky about small damages that were not crucial or even needed.
Next came the SMGs. These were standardised thanks to being fewer in number. Well, standardised apart from one exception. The M-9 Tempests showed signs of wear but functional. Only 6 members used SMGs often so we had plenty spare, unlike the sniper rifles and heavy weapons. Dell's Locust, the only odd SMG, sat in its holster. My hands eased it free, teasing it apart to assess the upgrades. Dell always needed someone to check her guns for her, she was too busy and inexperienced- my hands paused as an upgrade slipped into my hands. Someone upgraded her magazine slip from a 3 to a 4, an upgrade released only a few weeks ago. My mandibles clicked before slipping it back in. May have been Mat'al, my mind said while slipping the SMG in its holster. Unlike the Tempests, we didn't have a spare Locust. That note added to the growing list of things to do. Mat'al would have to acquire one. He was the only person on the ship who knew where to get them. Maybe it would also bypass the funds restrictions… My eyes found the pistol bins and groaned. Five lockers of pistols. Opening the first revealed a sea of M-3 Predators. Another bin had Carnifexes inside and Dell's Paladin – which proved to be more useful as Dell's aim improved – but dammit, this was the worst part. Diving into a tub of battery lubricant was better than thi-
"Val, Dell's asking after you," Lanster called over the intercom. My back straightened, a quiet pray of thanks flying.
"Next time, tell me to stop when I've spent an hour looking at bloody guns," I said.
"But then you wouldn't be doing your job!" Lanster said, laughing at my expense. "She's in her quarters,"
"Aye, aye. Much better than checking 100 odd pistols," I said, stretching before closing and securing the lockers.
With the armoury locked down, finishing my shift with 'reporting to my captain' always left me a better mood. My shift ended in about 10 minutes, which means no gun checks until tomorrow. With the whole attempted boarding and the attack on Kahje and the repairs, we had to work longer hours for a while to catch up and double check everything. We had new equipment to merge in, old equipment to ditch or repair. The normal 12 hour shifts were out the window for a while, then again, Dell worked 15, sometimes 16 hour shifts every day. Too bad we didn't get overtime, but Dell couldn't afford it now. We didn't have massive funding to afford anything less. 7am to 9pm until everything was organised, then we went back to 8am to 8pm. My head shook, waiting for the elevator to carry me to the top deck. Knowing Dell, she was looking for a report, tactical help or someone to rant at. She used those simulators more than usual these days.
Before going into Dell's room though, my head poked into Gideon's room. True to my gut, the boy sat at the computer in a darkened room. His wide eyes swung to the door, growing pale. The jig was up. My brow plate rose, pointing a talon to the bed in the corner. Gideon slunk off the seat and shuffled over to the bed, a sheepish smile on his face. He'd be back on that machine in a heartbeat, so a quick command on my omni-tool shut it down and it wouldn't start until 9am tomorrow. He whined, but it was for his own good. Bloody boy and his machines… Now to see what his mother needed. The human sat at her desk as expected, frowning at something on the screen. A sly smirk rose, clicking my mandibles hard enough to make the human start. She glowered at my grin. My eyes skimmed the screen as a combat simulator shut down with an exaggerated huff, a 'rage quit', Dell called it. She spun around on her chair as she buried her hands into her eyes.
"Long day?" I asked. Dell's arms flopped to her side.
"Oh yeah," she sighed, finding her feet. "The Starquake goes missing, Saboteurs are trying to kill me, my crew and my ship, the Council handed my ass to me and Mat'al has been on my back all day. I'm only just getting used to a solid hour of exercise every day. After all that has happened, I hoped he would go easy on me but nope! He is increasing each move each time. And I need to solve this tactics simulator before he gives me the next one tomorrow!" she flailed her arms in the air. Laughter bubbled in my chest. "And Julian has given me a bunch more data on some targets we can investigate. He's still looking into that salarian Gideon saw but… Jesus, my brain is fried," she shook her head as she mounted the stairs to the upper tier, forcing me to follow.
"At least Mat'al isn't making you plank for 2 minutes," I laughed. Dell snorted.
"He's sadistic but he doesn't want to murder me," she said.
"So you dragged me here from doing my oh so important job of ensuring everyone else is keeping their guns in shape to moan at me?" I asked. Dell snorted, but a smile flitted her lips.
"Notice my upgrade?" she asked. My plates scrunched up, reading her expression. The Locust was the only thing that was…
"That was you?" I asked, brows flying high. She smirked.
"Mat'al showed how to upgrade my Locust. Made me take it apart and put it back together 200 times 3 days ago. And 50 times removing and adding each different upgrade. I thought I'd treat myself," she said with a wink, her grin growing. My mandibles hung limp.
"Wait, so I need not give your gun maintenance anymore?" I asked. Dell's grin faded and a glare replaced it. Nothing could hold my smirk back. "Na, I don't trust you not to fuck it up, your Majesty,"
"Ass," she snapped, scowling harder at my laugh. "But no, Mr Smartass, I didn't drag you up here to moan. I am doing one of the more delicate jobs of a captain," she folded her arms across her chest, making me frown in concern. "How's your face?"
"My face?" I asked, back straightening. "Ah… it's there?" I asked. Dell tutted.
"I mean, has the sensitivity evened out?" she asked. "I've noticed you're growing copper patches back over the scar tissue," a weak laugh coughed free, still recuperating from the sudden question.
"Well, the scarring isn't horrible. I might get about 40% of my old skin back. But the sensitivity is… well, still patchy as hell. I think it's not going to improve much," I said, shrugging. "Saere gave me massages hoping to revitalise nerve endings but I don't think it was successful," Dell's gaze weakened.
"Not even a little?" she asked, voice quiet. My eyes narrowed. Humans were easy to read, Dell more so than most. Her folded arms looked more like a self-hug, her eyebrows upturned, eyes a little too large. A slow breath eased free.
"Dell, you couldn't have done a thing. No one could have known it was acid, no one would've guessed my dad would do that," I said. Her shuddering sigh answered my guess.
"I was your CO during the time we had to be at our most vigilant. You live with physical and psychological scars because of it," she said, running a hand through her hair.
"Dell, it happened over a year ago. It can't still be bothering you," I said, pinning my mandibles. Dell managed a weak smile.
"Nyryntha likes to use your screams during the nightmares," she muttered. My mandibles flared wide. She… Oh spirits. "I try to ignore it but sometimes I feel like, I dunno, like I didn't do enough,"
"Didn't do enough? Dell I would be dead without you!" I said, grabbing her shoulders. Dell rose her eyes to mine, still with her upturned eyebrows. "Spirits, what's brought this on? The nightmares can't be back yet, can they?"
"They're leaking through. It takes a week before I notice them," she said, shaking her head. "I … let me just try something, ok? Even if it does nothing, even if it's a year and a half too late then maybe I can use it to tell Nyryntha to piss off or something," she ran a hand through her hair again, eyebrows inching even further in their painful twists.
"What, you want to give me a face massage?" I asked. Dell snorted.
"Maybe you need a human touch," she said. The laden atmosphere forced a light, looking for release.
"This is bothering you, isn't it?" I asked. Dell closed her eyes. She managed a weak nod. Tension ran through my chest, withholding the sigh in my chest even as my shoulders shrugged. "Sure, if you think it'll be therapeutic," Dell blinked, rousing herself. "Besides, I've got nothing better to do. It's not every day one gets to enjoy a relaxing face massage after a long day checking guns and armour," tension eased from her shoulders.
"Ok, good, I'll um… go grab stuff then," she said, shaking the cobwebs out of her mind.
"And I'll go change out of my armour," I chuckled.
Dell rummaged around to grab whatever oils she'd need, leaving me to escape. My shoulders sagged. Dell complained Nyryntha used everything possible to make her nightmares as horrific as possible. But she never told me she used my screams. Dell's actions that day saved me, minimising the damage. Saere told me the worst case scenario. Losing plates didn't sound pleasant. At the time, my naïve mind thought it would have been enough. Had my self-loathing sulk afterwards caused this? My head shook, tearing the armour free. It landed on the sofa. A white tank top and dark baggy trousers slipped on instead. Damn, armour chaffed in the wrong places at times. With something more comfortable on, my neck stretched while walking back into her room. The room lay in dim, orange light, the blinding lights above dead. It felt close, cosy and warm, on the second tier, a smirk rose. Her military overcoat sat in a crumple on the shorter end of the L-shaped sofa. It was rare to see Dell without it, her pride didn't let her show much skin. Yet here she was in her white tank top, pale arms glowing in the amber light. An array of bottles and tubs beside her on the table. She glanced up from her omni-tool as the alarm clock come music player began a soft tune. My eyes sparkled. Her finger already snapped in my direction.
"Don't. Laugh. It's therapeutic," she said through clenched teeth. My brows flicked up, smile on my face before sitting down. The grin refused to drop until she reached up, taking either side of my head and pulling me down. She curled her leg around my crest, my head resting on her lower leg, my crest clear from the sofa. She didn't want my crest digging into the sofa and ripping it, after all. With her leg my head rest, she reached for a bottle, dragging in deep breaths.
I wasn't sure what to expect. Humans were soft and squishy, turian skin, especially mine after the acid damage, disagreed with levo-amino organics. The sandpaper like texture only agitated any dextro/levo disagreements. Dell reach down, a delicate skim of hands over my cheekbones. A heavy breath rushed from my chest, closing my eyes. Despite all the years of combat and hardship, Dell's hands were still tender, well, when she brushed over skin that still had sensation. Her hands moved in slow, gentle circles and sweeps, as unsure what hurt and what didn't. Her light touches saved any discomfort as she brushed over the hypersensitive areas. When she brushed against one, the muscle underneath twitched. Her hands jolted at the first one, but learned to press on with time. My legs straightened out, relaxing under her careful touch. Time passed and Dell's confidence grew. The twitching helped her to pinpoint areas most sensitive while areas where the skin felt colder she pressed harder. After a while, her hands moved in asynchronous sweeps, one rubbed small circles along a mandible while the other would do feather light strokes along the other. Don't get me wrong, it was far from uncomfortable, just unusual. Humans and their massage techniques, maybe it was a thing on Earth. As her hand left my chin and worked its way up to my cheeks, her breath stuttered in her chest.
"I haven't… appreciate the scale of the damage until now," she whispered.
"It wasn't your fault," I murmured back, starting as my voice drawled, tongue too relaxed to work. Her fingers doing more than I realised. It got a small laugh from her regardless.
"I was so… focused by the scarring around your eyes I never noticed the pot marks," she said, ignoring my words. Her hands rubbed soft circles over my fringe, earning a small sound building in my throat. No dammit, don't do that!
"They are getting smaller," I said. They wouldn't disappear, but any improvement was an improvement. Dell made a small sound in her throat. Time lay forgotten after that, content to let her soft hands work their magic. Each little circle tore more tension from my muscles and not just from my face. Her fingers had memorised my face, she knew my face better than me now. She knew what areas needed what pressures, her confidence building. This beat checking guns all day. Dell breathed as she leaned back.
"That should do it," she said, releasing my crest. A drunken chuckle slid free, masking the disappointment, my face tingling and content.
"Well, that was different," I said, stretching my back. My eyes fluttered over, turning to her. "More delicate than any turian… style?" My voice failed.
Dell leaned tucked in the corner of the sofa, looking up under upturned eyebrows. In her hands, a torso sized mirror pressed against her chest. In the reflection was I, only lilac danced over my face. My jaw floundered as my eyes found the table, a tub of unlabelled turian marking paint laying open. A paint brush lay on kitchen paper beside it. A datapad glowed, an image of a turian head straight on and in profile, decked in the lilac marks on my face. My eyes turned back to the mirror, jaw dropped. A fan of 5 curved lines emanating from the top of my nose flared over my fridge, similar to the tail design on the Starquake. Large loops darted out from outer sides of my brow plates to loop on the cheeks, under the scarring and end at the edge of the nose. 2 streaks joined together over the fanned part of the mandible near the jaw joint, similar to the fridge design. A small f shaped curve flicked up from the smaller mandible spike, followed the mandible before flicking up after a short distance. Everything mirrored on the other size. Two thin curved lines, just missing from joining each other at the chin, decorated my lower jaw. My eyes rose to Dell, wide and bugged. Dell chewed her lip.
"I uh… wanted to do this for your birthday last month but um, t-the Hierarchy was being a pain about it. D-Don't worry, it's a registered marking! I got confirmation a week ago. I-I mean, I tried to register it as 'Starquake' but the Hierarchy doesn't like ship names, what with their rules and such s-so I had to register it as 'Shaik' and pull some Council power to register it as a f-family marking rather than a colony," she babbled, stuttering as my expression failed to change. She… she registered a new face marking… for me?
"Oh… Oh God, it's um… squint. S-Sorry, I'm not much of an artist. I-It's harder than I t-thought," she said with a shrug, hands trembling.
She…? Spirits, she did this for me. She went through the trauma of dealing with the Turian Colony Marking Institute to get this for me. My heart melted, it bloomed, it… Spirits, what was my heart doing? Everything felt too ethereal to be exhilaration, too numb.
"You don't like it, do you?" she said in a tiny voice. The words stirred from my stupor. Didn't like it? She thought I hated…? What… how could I… how could I make her shut up and understand?
"W-Well, I uh… I-I know being barefaced w-was bothering you a-and it seemed to be the only thing, y'know, stopping you overcoming what happened so I-I thought…" she rambled. "I-I mean, i-if it bothers you I-I've got some r-remover on the- mmmffh!?"
It was the only thing my melting brain could think of. With a resolved kick, my hands shoved the mirror out her hands and trapped her under my weight. With her head in my hands, there was only one human custom that sprung to mind. My lips to hers as hard as they dared. Her lips were… oh spirits. They were softer than her hands, the softest of her skin anywhere. My head pulled back for air, Dell frozen beneath me. Her eyes bugged, stretching to the size of saucers, her soft mouth ajar. My lips pressed against hers a second time, pleading to breathe life back into her. My heart fluttered as she moved. She followed me as my head pulled back for air. We gazed at each other, nose to nose, for only a few seconds. Dell's eyes dilated, but not so large now. Warmth leaked back into her cheeks. She reared up, securing her arms around my head and neck before pulling me down with her. My hands found her hips, pulling her under me as they eased her off the back of the sofa to lie on the cushions.