*****A Cursed Existence*****
Entry 10: The Things I Didn't See
AN: So, guess what happened my wonderful readers? I accidentally deleted all my notes for this chapter without even noticing they were gone for three days!
It wasn't that much of a setback, thankfully, as I knew what I wanted here for the most part, but it's always a blast finding out that the file I assumed (and deleted) was just a copy of the next chapter really turned out to be the notes for the next chapter. Fun times, eh? Ah, great job me… Anyway, author mishaps aside, just wanted to let you all know that this chapter will be… different, compared to the previous ones. It should be obvious as to how soon after you start reading.
Oh and one last note: just keep in mind this is all happening roughly at the same time as where we left off last chapter, hence the "Meanwhile…" instead of an actual time.
Meanwhile, Calabsa, Northern Continent, Taria Republic General Access Port…
Ben'Calvert vas Tasi narrowed his glowing eyes at the asari customs official, but did nothing to show his displeasure beyond that. He absently dusted off the makeshift poncho that merged into his more traditional quarian attire, said poncho conveniently hiding his pistol and armor from external view and curious onlookers, even as he listened to the asari drone on about how she needed to inspect the crates floating behind him.
"-do I know that these aren't stolen weapons? I need to check the serial numbers and run them against the Council database!" the asari sneered at him.
Ben waited a moment, then asked, "Are you done?"
The alien flinched, taken aback by both the bored tone and the lack of a khelish accent; his accent sounding more human than anything else. "I-but-wha-no!" the officer sputtered angrily.
Ben just rolled his eyes, though he did set a hand on his pistol, still hidden under his poncho. "I'm sorry to say that a very prominent asari has ordered that these weapons be delivered to her home, and I cannot let anyone else open these crates without a proper warrant, as it would violate my customer's trust that these weapons have not been tampered with or logged into a database without their consent; which, I should add, I am under contract to make sure doesn't happen," he stated simply, giving the asari a level look; his gold visor betraying nothing underneath.
The customs inspector visibly colored purple for a moment, before she hissed, "And who is your customer then?"
"Mirilley V'Seila," he replied evenly, bringing up the business card and receipt on his omni-tool for the customs official to see. The asari paled, turning from a deep blue to a near milky white in only a second; and Ben suppressed a smirk behind his visor.
"G-g-go right ahead Mr. Calvert," the suddenly panicky woman rasped, stumbling back towards her little office without even a glance back towards him.
Ben snorted and started dragging the hovercart towards the rental skycar waiting for him. After loading the boxes containing the guns into the car, he hopped into the driver's seat and typed in the coordinates that had been given to him for this particular delivery. He hated taking deliveries to the ass end of nowhere like this, but it was still better than having to bring his guns to some place like the terminus, where he would be more likely to end up in a running gun battle as opposed to making some money.
At least this person is paying well… hell, she even paid for the delivery in advance. I'm actually eating some real food tonight, he thought to himself with a small smile. Maybe even a nice cleanroom… that would be great too.
He was broken out of his musings as the VI auto driver beeped loudly; alerting him to the fact that they had reached his destination.
Grumbling for a second, he climbed out of the driver's seat, only to stop and marvel at the mansion in front of him. "Huh…" he mumbled. "To think… a thousand years ago, a person of nobility would ask upon seeing something like this, 'What King lives here?'"
Shaking his head, he walked over to the trunk and removed the weapons crates and loaded it back onto the hovercart; grunting and grumbling the whole while about how he needed to get a helper. "Father always joked about how he had a kid for the free labor," he grumbled. "Maybe I need to do the same. Knock some woman up so I have a free helper once they're old enough to walk and carry stuff."
He walked up to the main gate and, upon noticing one, pressed a small buzzer, tapping his foot impatiently for a moment as he waited for someone to answer.
The gate opened, but no person came out to greet him, nor did anyone answer over any speakers; which surprised him, mainly because of the lack of guards. Most rich people he ended up delivering to were the kind that flaunted their power and wealth by bombarding him with as many servants and guards as possible; though the latter was admittedly an oftentimes necessary aspect of being rich and/or famous.
Hmph, doesn't mean Ms. V'Seila is not incredibly dangerous. All asari are biotics, so she could crush me with a gesture if I'm not careful, he reminded himself, still keeping his right hand concealed under his poncho.
Reaching the front door, he knocked, with it immediately swinging open; and he was greeted by a white VI assistant drone. "Hello! How may I be of assistance?" the drone asked.
Ben glanced around the drone, trying to peer inside for a second. "I'm here with a delivery of weapons for Ms. V'Seila," he finally replied with a rasping lilt.
The drone blinked and tilted slightly, "I am sorry to say, but Ms. V'Seila is currently not available."
"Yeah… I got that," Ben stated. "Is there a specific way she wanted these delivered?" he asked, gesturing to the cartful of weapons. "Leave 'em here on the porch, carry 'em inside?"
"I'm sorry, I do not know the answer to that," the VI drone replied, its tone an obvious attempt at copying confusion.
Ben closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then said, "Damned worthless machines."
"I'm sorry, I did not get that. Could you repeat your statement?" it asked.
Ben glared at the drone for a moment, then shook his head and pulled the crates inside; setting them down in the foyer, not really willing to risk venturing further inside the mansion as he didn't know what kind of traps this particular customer might have set up.
Or worse, that they were actually home and doing the kinds of things homeowners get up too when alone. Never walking in on an Asari without knocking again… that one bitch was hot, but damn was she crazy.
Thinking back on the memory, he shuddered, even as he set the last crate down; before returning his right hand under his poncho and resting it on his pistol. "Alright… The packages are delivered, so inform Ms. V'Seila that her weapons have arrived on time and in perfect condition," he ordered the VI.
The drone blinked, then said, "I'm sorry, I did not get that. My settings are still in factory default mode. Would you like me to call Ms. V'Seila?"
Ben groaned and rubbed his visor. "Y-yes!" he snapped.
The VI drone flashed for a minute, then it said, "I'm sorry, Ms. V'Seila is not available. Would you like me to leave a message?"
"Yes," Ben said, more calm this time as he knew it wouldn't look good if he was snappy and short tempered with a client's VI assistant… even if he felt like shooting the stupid thing once or twice…
The VI in question blinked red, followed by its 'eye' zooming in on him, "Recording."
"Ms. V'Seila, this is Ben'Calvert vas Tasi of Combine Weapons; I have delivered your order, as witnessed by your VI assistant. If you have any problems, questions, or concerns, please contact me at the number given to you when you first ordered. Have a good day."
Ben waited a moment, then the VI turned white again, and he considered the matter done.
Turning to walk out, he couldn't help but shake the sudden pall of dread that overcame him for a second. Turning back to look inside, he switched his olfactory filters off on a hunch, and frowned heavily. "What's that smell…" he murmured. "A fire?"
Before he could ask the VI if something was wrong, a cleaning drone speckled in what looked like ash and soot hovered inside past his head, followed by another one going outside and curving around the mansion, carrying what looked like a bundle of clothes using an artificial biotic bubble.
"Umm… what's going on?" he asked the VI before thinking, immediately cursing himself afterwards.
"The estate's cleaner detail is carrying out their task to remove all items labeled as disposable, or hazardous to the Mistress' health!" was the VI's cheerful answer, and as if listening in, the first cleaning drone came back out the doorway, carrying something resembling a purse upside-down, the contents having spilled out but not fallen to the ground thanks to how it was being carried in a bubble. As the drone went past him, Ben caught sight of numerous personal items underneath the purse, alongside an ID card which was auto translated by his visor. He didn't recognize who it was, but one thing stood out to him about it: the name on the card was not Mirilley V'Seila.
Taking a guess as to what was happening, his eyes dimmed, and he quickly turned his filters back on and walked back to the skycar. He had delivered to a number of clients, and while he always vetted them as best he could to make sure they weren't criminals, sometimes a few slipped under the radar.
And he knew what happened when the wealthy of the galaxy needed a "problem" to disappear.
Don't ask questions, that'll get you killed. Just be glad things are over and done with, he reminded himself, even as he drove away, trying to shift his thoughts to more pleasant topics.
But… he couldn't shake the feeling that this would by no means be the last he heard of Mirilley V'Seila.
Meanwhile, Noveria, Port Hanshan…
Exactly ten minutes, 23.29 seconds into the meeting, Aena was ordered by her Mistress to wait outside so as to "relax the atmosphere." Understanding what went unsaid, Aena followed the command immediately, of course, and moved to wait outside the office. Her presence was soon noticed and watched by three office workers and a janitor: the workers a human, asari, and salarian, with the janitor also being a human, resulting in Aena naturally saving an image of their physical features, name tags, and any actions that could be seen as unusual to be investigated at a later date, if the opportunity presented itself. As her Mistress had a habit of saying, "Better safe than sorry."
In accordance to this, and to lower the amount of attention she brought as per the guidelines of the infiltration program that she'd acquired thanks to the recent upgrades, Aena switched off all unnecessary body lights and stood completely motionless, making her appear to be a typical assistance mech. The action had the intended effect, and the four suspicious organics soon went back to their previous tasks.
Scanning for any potential visible threats to Mistress… None discovered in immediate vicinity. Accessing local network to locate potential digital threats… Access denied. Firewall in place. Recalculating… Attempting access using basic cleaning VI protocols to mask this unit's function. Access denied. Firewall in place. Recalculating… Attempting access using appropriated Synthetic Insights employee ID. Error: ID requires passcode for network access. Warning: attempted login labeled suspicious by local network. Reason: employee ID currently in use. Abandoning method. Recalculating… Attempting access using additional spyware program installed in this unit's operating frame by Mistress… processing… processing… Access granted. Full system access achieved. Possibility of detection by network security systems: highly unlikely. Mistress's spyware program installation a complete success. Will inform Mistress of this if questioned. Continuing mission…
And on and on it went, as Aena stood there unerringly for the next 27 minutes, 39.02 seconds, copying everything of potential interest and/or possible harm, now or in the future, to her Mistress and her Mistress's interests, while watching every move made by the 17 office workers thanks to the conveniently placed cameras everywhere. The only blank spots in the camera network were the restroom facilities, and the office her Mistress and the potentially dangerous turian were currently inside of – a turian's talons are documented as being able to kill even krogan when used properly – which she took note of as a security concern, but there was no way for her to resolve it.
Potential threats to Mistress and her assets identified in local network: 12. Potential threats from external networks attempting access to local network: 86. External network security integrity: Class 3. External security noted as highly superior to internal security. Conclusion: more funding diverted to blocking external access compared to blocking internal access. Acquiring further informati- Notification: incoming message. Contents: confirmation of munitions delivery to home-base mansion. Request to communicate with the Mistress from munitions producer: denied. Reason: the Mistress is unavailable. Suggest leaving a message. Continuing mission…
Seventeen minutes and 19.03 seconds later, and having received the message left by the quarian deliveryman, her Mistress came out of the office, appearing somewhat tired.
"Is everything alright Mistress?" she asked, her emotion subroutines activating as her crest lit up in a pale yellow.
"Hmm? Yeah, everything's alright. I simply didn't expect the meeting to last that long is all," her Mistress responded, waving away her concern, but a quick bio-scan showed she was experiencing low levels of stress and fatigue in spite of her casual tone.
"Very well Mistress…" Aena had no choice but to accept, though she did select a different type of food to order for later in the day that, according to her research, was touted as an excellent stress reliever for most organics, her Mistress's species included. Cake and cookies was apparently a human specialty, and being on a human planet, she saw no logical reason not to take advantage of the local alien's culinary expertise.
Prediction: while it will be inferior to the recipes the Mistress has me cook at the mansion, it will serve the purpose of soothing her and helping her relax. Conclusion: this is satisfactory to my mission.
"Well, no point in sticking around," her Mistress said, yawning briefly, to which Aena moved in front of her to ensure none of the other organics noticed the slip in composure. Her Mistress, however, did notice the move, and gave her a slight nod afterwards, which reaffirmed her decision to have done so. "…and I could probably do with a nap followed by something to eat after that. Going to be a little difficult adjusting to the local timeframe, but hey, jetlag can't be helped…"
"Jetlag, Mistress?" Aena queried, the human term unrecognized by her translation system.
"Hmm? Oh, that; it just means my body is used to living in a different time zone, so I'll have to adjust to the local one while we're here."
"Oh. Understood Mistress; I will remember the term for future reference."
A small nod and hum was her Mistress's only acknowledgment, but it was more than enough. "Anyway, let's get back to the hotel so I can rest up. The day's still young, so I'd prefer to get a few other things done while we're here, like that shopping trip I mentioned for example, but that can wait for when I'm not feeling sleepy."
"Of course Mistress," Aena replied, smiling and switching from yellow to bright blue. "I will determine the fastest possible route back to your temporary residence."
"Mmm…" was all she said in response, and understanding her Mistress had no desire to talk right now, Aena gave a customary bow before following the path she'd calculated, which, unfortunately, first took them back to the annoyingly slow elevator they'd ridden up in, as it was the only way in or out of Synthetic Insight's offices. From a security perspective, Aena approved of the singular and wide open entry point, as any invaders could be funneled into a killing zone, but from a convenience perspective? She was sure her Mistress, if she was in control of the corporations that owned and operated Port Hanshan, would've immediately gotten rid of whoever designed it the way it was. But sadly, her Mistress was not in control of those corporations. Yet.
If Aena knew one thing about her Mistress, no matter how many times her Mistress's personality underwent slight alterations due to her bonding partners, it's that she would always desire something bigger and better than what she already had. Aena herself was proof of this fact: once no more than a comparatively primitive mech barely able to walk while carrying heavy objects, and unable to go more than a week without needing maintenance, she was now the pinnacle of technology, be it her state-of-the-art electronics systems; her custom made internal element zero engine; her top-of-the-line haptic controls; her unmatched visual and auditory sensors; or even her advanced defensive systems, such as her fashionably designed armor plating and inbuilt kinetic barrier that could rival Spectre grade personal shields.
Her Mistress had and most likely never would stop improving both her own living conditions and Aena's as well, simply because she enjoyed doing so, and that comforting realization caused an unspecified emotion to shine from Aena's emulator that she failed to identify from her preprogrammed emotional states.
"Aena? Something going on with you?" her Mistress asked as they stood in the elevator going down, eyeing her "crest," which was currently glowing a silvery white.
"I am… unsure," was her delayed answer, glow changing to confused green, and she followed it up by performing a systems diagnostic, as was standard procedure. "I am receiving unusual readings from certain areas of my VI core. This has never occurred before."
Her Mistress raised a brow at that. "Is it going to be a problem? Do you think it has something to do with the upgrades I installed in you before we left Calabsa?"
"I do not believe it will be an issue. However, I am unsure as to what is causing it. Until this point, your upgrades have matched or exceeded their open market performance values; but as they have only been installed for a short period of time, the likelihood that the upgrades are at fault is a possibility."
"Huh. Alright then, guess I'll take a closer look at them when we get back home. Until then, try to avoid using the newer programs so that whatever it is doesn't become a bigger issue, okay?"
"Understood Mistress," she confirmed with her usual smile, bright and happy blue glow returning.
"Good…" her Mistress paused to yawn. "Now I wish this elevator would just hurry up… you'd think a corporate world like Noveria would prefer them to be as fast as possible…"
Knowing it wasn't a question, Aena didn't respond, instead focusing on the task at hand once more. The suspicious organics had watched her and her Mistress leave the Synthetic Insights office, so she would investigate them further before determining what to do with the data she accumulated on them, but she would tell her Mistress about the munition's delivery when they arrived back at the hotel. However, at the moment, there was no point in further stressing her Mistress with such information. It was her duty and privilege to care for her Mistress, after all, and she refused to purposefully do anything that could bring physical or mental harm to her charge (her bouts of "heightened aggression towards potential hostiles" notwithstanding.)
As the elevator ride continued, neither of them noticed a miniscule, but steady, amount of silver-white managing to leak out through Aena's usual blue…
Meanwhile, back on Calabsa…
Special Investigator Ciaris Minellick, of the Taria Republic, Taria City Police Force Investigation Division, third precinct, in which she held the rank of Lieutenant, was having a, to put it lightly, frustrating day. The day started normal enough: wake up, take a shower, bemoan her lack of a bondmate thanks to her work not leaving her enough time to look for one, get dressed, grab something to eat/drink on the way to work, and finally, start working. Where today differed, however, was in what that work entailed…
Please tell me she hasn't killed anyone… or started a shootout… or kidnapped a previously innocent civilian based on her own investigations and suspicions… Why weren't we told ahead of time that she'd be coming here? I hope this isn't the same one as last time… Goddess, do I hate having to deal with Justicars…
While most of the officers on the force might look at Justicars and see nigh invincible bastions of law and order, Ciaris had actual experience dealing with the monastic group, and to say they were overzealous would be putting it mildly. Now granted, she had heard that certain Justicars were more understanding than others, but the one she'd met before had followed the "Justicar Code" like it was scripture. Which, as she came to learn, it was… for the Justicars anyway.
"Alright, what happened?" she asked the officer sent to inform her of the Justicar's arrival at their precinct, and the subsequent order from her superiors to "handle it." She was, after all, the only one there that had prior experience with them.
"Nothing so far, Lieutenant. The Justicar just… showed up this morning, demanding we aid her in 'hunting her quarry as we did once before,' whatever that's supposed to mean. She even asked for you by name," was the officer's slightly confused response as they both started to walk towards the waiting area for VIPs.
Oh fuck… so it is her… help out on a single case a decade ago because the higher ups don't want anyone too important to be killed if they 'defy the laws of the Order and its Code,' and she actually ended up remembering me because of it… Goddess dammit…
"Did she ask for anyone else?"
"She did not, Lieutenant."
"Of course she didn't…" Ciaris muttered under her breath. She then noticed the relative youth of the other officer, as well as realizing she hadn't seen her around the precinct before today, and figured she would give a bit of advice. "And you can call me Ma'am instead of Lieutenant if you'd like; it should help you get used to interacting with aliens that use gender identifiers."
"Ah, uh, understood Lieutenant- um, I mean Ma'am," was her stuttering response, having been caught off-guard, which made Ciaris huff in amusement.
"Don't put too much thought into it rookie; it'll come to you eventually…" she said, before noticing they were nearly at their destination. "So how long have you been on the force anyway? And I never got your name."
"Oh! My apologies Lieutenant- er, Ma'am. My name is Idari Tilasius, and I just graduated from the academy six days ago at the top of my class!" she answered, a little too proudly for Ciaris's tastes, but that wasn't unexpected for a rookie.
Humming in thought, Ciaris paused just outside the door to the VIP area and turned to face her fully. "That's good. Have you been given a proper job at the precinct yet? Message running is normally reserved for either VIs or unassigned rookies like yourself, just to get them familiar with the building."
Idari stared awkwardly for a second before answering. "I… have not, no Ma'am."
Of course not… Athame, what's the Captain even doing right now that she has the time to tell a rookie to come and get me, but not the time to assign that same rookie an actual position?
Making a quick decision, Ciaris sighed to herself. "Well, so long as the Captain doesn't have any issues with it… how would you like to follow me around for a few days? Learn the tricks of the trade, as I've heard humans say."
Idari looked stunned for a moment, before recomposing herself and trying to look as professional as possible. "It'd be my honor!" Ciaris just raised a brow at that, which made the rookie flush purple as she added, "Ma'am."
Shaking her head, Ciaris just sighed again, though she had to admit she felt a little sympathy for Idari. We all used to be rookies once… wish I had someone to teach me about the job back in the day.
"Well, come on then. No point in holding off a conversation with our guest any longer. Just remember: whatever you hear discussed, none of it is allowed to leave the room unless either myself or the Justicar allow it. Their operations are strictly confidential, and are to be treated as such. Understood?"
Idari looked confused for a moment before nodding. "Understood Ma'am. But…" she stopped and seemed to have second thoughts about whatever she was about to say.
"But what? You can ask questions, rookie, just make sure you never ask the same question more than twice."
"Ah. Thank you. What I wanted to know is, why would they be confidential?"
Ciaris took a quick breath, glanced around to make sure there weren't any eavesdroppers, and upon finding none, let the breath out. She then answered her question in a tone just barely above a whisper. "Because the last time this happened, a leading candidate for Planetary Representative to the Republics was the prime suspect… right up until the investigating Justicar caved in her ribcage after a failed arrest led to a biotic shootout."
Idari looked, in a word, shocked to hear that. "That one from ten years ago? You mean it wasn't a shuttle accident?!" she asked, tone slightly higher than Ciaris would've preferred, though it was understandable.
"No, it wasn't. And now you know why their operations are confidential, and why the officers who work with them are required to stay silent about what they see," was her serious reply, which managed to snap Idari back to reality. "Any other questions before we head in?"
"None, Ma'am."
"Good. Now then, let's get this shitshow started…"
So. This was delayed by a few things, my own attention span being one of them. To start with, got a job working at an airport, so that's fun. Once I figured that out, I decided to get a few games, namely the Metro series, and more recently, a fun little game called Elden Ring (Paladin shield tank/group buffer/incant user is god tier, fite me bro). That said… well, here's the finished product.
Ah yes, almost forgot: one of these sections was actually written by ThePilotArchangel (you should know the drill by now; good stories, go read them, I'll come and SMITE you with holy hellfire if you don't, etc.) I won't reveal which section it was, as that might spoil something later on. And to comment on it, here's the man himself...
Pilot A/N: I'm pretty sure they could figure out which section I wrote, because however much we may mesh in terms of writing; we both still have pretty distinct writing styles. With that said however, I was happy to help out with this section; and I look forward to seeing how the viewers react to this chapter.
Well you heard him. Review dammit! I'm an attention whore!
In all seriousness though, thanks for waiting for me to write this; your patience is greatly appreciated. So, all that said… I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!