Chapter 31
Taloron Market – Gozu District – Omega Station
She sighed in annoyance at just having to breath the air of the colony. She hated Omega with a passion because of all the criminal elements who thrived here. But she didn't really have any choice. Over the last few weeks she'd learned a lot more than expected and she had seen first hand the capabilities of a spectre. Even if she still hated Shepard, which she did not, her eyes refused to allow her to ignore how effective the human and her team were.
She had been raised from a gangly teenager on the Imperium Marines creed. You have no face, you have no name, you are not an individual, you are part of a machine of war and when all the parts are moving in sync, there's nothing that can stop them. And before she had been selected for spectrehood, she believed in the efficiency of calculated destruction through impersonalization. To work not as individuals, but to work as one team under the command of one leader.
But now, she had seen the true power of individualism in a ground unit. Each person had their skills and abilities, and an effective leader could use those abilities to conquer any situation. She herself would not have believed that a strike team as small as Shepard's had done the damage to Eclipse on Illium had she not seen it with her own two eyes. But she did, and it was inconceivable that such a small crew of specialists had the capabilities to pull off the same destruction she would have estimated from an entire company of Imperium Marines.
She had nothing to do but try it for herself. She'd already made calls to the Imperator and the Primarch both to put in a request for a ship. Having a command center and utilizing it like Shepard did was integral to their efficiency. It would be different than the Normandy, however. She wanted her ship to be more on turian design than human, and more combat capable than stealthy. It would have better guns, shields, defenses, and maneuverability rather than bulking it out to fit a Tantalus drive core for capturing emissions.
But, she couldn't operate the ship alone. She would need a crew, and that's exactly what she came to Omega for. She knew plenty of people who had come to this miserably floating rock on the payroll of the Blue Suns, the Eclipse band that was left behind after Shepard started her all-out assault on their band's dignity, and even some who had come as entrepreneurs and went their own way. She had managed to rope them into coming with her on her crazed mission to show the hierarchy a new side of effective combat. But there was one last person she absolutely needed on her team. She had several crew members all gathering at a meeting spot to discuss the future, each of them an effective ship crew member. But she had yet to get any actual strike team members.
The legate stepped into the marketplace to see it bustling once again. She'd heard the news about the epidemic that had broken out in the sector many moons ago and had to get inoculated for it just in case there were some lingering traces of the virus. But now she stood and saw people walking around the markets of the district with grins, carrying children, buying groceries and clothing, and doing things she really wouldn't expect to see on Omega. To her it had always been a pit of misery and despair. Seeing people actually happy and enjoying themselves was almost unnerving.
It was then that her mandibles twitched in amusement as a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks. "What do you want, Voretoria?"
"Long time no see, Kandros," said the turian woman as she turned around. Nyreen wasn't as tall as she was, but she was no less intimidating with that blade sharp stare of hers.
"Not long enough," said the lieutenant as she hung her hands on her cowl. "Now answer the question. What are you doing in my district?"
"Your district? I was led to believe Derius Zintus was in charge of the district," she said playfully at the woman. It felt really awkward talking with her again after how their last encounter had gone.
Nyreen simply glared at her. "Cut the small talk, Voretoria. You aren't really in a position to be joking with me given our history. As far as I care, you and the Imperator can both kiss the sharp end of my spurs."
Her words stung because she knew she was right. Nyreen Kandros was a former Cabal, a type of unit dedicated to the very few turian biotics. Saren himself had been one at one point as well, and that really should have colored her perception of them better. But she still treated them as the rest of the marines before her had. She inhaled sharply before letting her breath out slow. Finally, she bowed her head. "I apologize."
"What was that?" asked Kandros as her mandibles twitched in surprise.
"I'm sorry I treated you with such disrespect. I apologize I used your skills to my benefit, and then had you reassigned back to the Cabal Unit when you stood up for yourself. Though it is no excuse, I was a child who…" she said, her thoughts going to Shepard once more, "Who fell too easily into the chauvinistic comforts of the Imperial Forces." Nyreen stared at her a long moment before lashing out and kicking her straight in the shin. Ralixia winced in pain and backed up from the attack, shaking her leg to relieve it. "What in the spirits name…?!"
"So, you're actually real and not some hologram prank?" asked Kandros as she walked a circle around the new spectre and examined her.
"Of course I'm real!" snapped Ralixa as she glared at her old squadmate. "I wouldn't come to Omega of all places unless I was serious."
"I suppose this is a bit outside your jurisdiction," said the cabal as she shook her head. "But you didn't come out here just to apologize. What are you here for?"
"I came to ask you to join my team," said the spectre as she stood straight once more. "Over the last few weeks I've been training to become a new spectre, and I learned a lot from my instructor. One of the things I learned is how valuable allowing each person on a team to grow and flourish into themselves is, and how effective that makes them as a team. And…" she said as she hesitated slightly. "I wanted you to be a part of my new team."
Nyreen stared at her for a long moment. Ralixia took a step backwards, wary of whether she was about to get kicked again. Finally, the cabal chuckled. "I enjoy gambling and even I would never have bet money on hearing a sincere apology from you, let alone a request to team up again. Your instructor must have wrung you out like a rag."
"You aren't entirely wrong," said the legate as she recalled the smoking ruins of multiple Eclipse bases on Illium that she had helped to destroy. "So, what do you say? Do you think we could try again, this time as sisters?"
Kandros let out a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately, I have responsibilities here I need to attend to. I can't just go running off to play commando anymore."
"Here? On Omega?" asked Ralixia incredulously.
Nyreen directed another glare in her direction. "I see your instructor didn't get rid of all the toxicity in you," she growled as she strode past the woman.
"What? What did I say?" asked Ralixia as she followed her.
The woman stopped again and turned around. "These people here on Omega may not mean much to you, a law-biding military veteran turned law-enforcing spectre. But they're still people, and I care about these people."
Realizing how callous she sounded with her previous question, the spectre nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply… just, nevermind…" growled the woman as her shoulders slumped. She knew from experience that Kandros was deadly in combat and tactics. While the other team members she had nabbed since she got here would make good ship mates, Kandros would have been good on the ship and on a ground team. So, losing out on her was disappointing.
Nyreen slapped her shoulder gently. "Look, Lixy…" she said, chuckling at the death glare that the nickname got her. "I can't go with you. But if anything, you've built a bridge here. You can use my expertise and contact me any time you need me. And I've kept up with some of my other cabal squad mates. I can probably pull one of them in to join you now that you've changed your attitude. How does that sound?"
Ralixia sighed and gripped her cowl for comfort. "It sounds like less than I was hoping, but a lot more than I was expecting. I appreciate it."
"Sorry, Legate. Some people have moved on from aspirations of being a hero," said Nyreen as she opened her omni-tool and passed her info along. "Here, if you need anything on Omega, whether it's information, shelter, or more guns to help you out, let me know. We can at least help you out while you're here."
"Thanks. I think I'm gonna go have a drink and ponder my options," said the spectre as she waved off her former squadmate and headed to the nearest dextro-based bar. She sighed to herself as she ordered a drink and considered her options. She knew others, of course. She knew thousands of turians who would jump at the request to support one of their spectres. But as she put thought into it she began to eliminate more and more of them from the list. Too many were strict, by the books imperials who would scoff at the tactics Shepard had used. Threatening law enforcement, holding law enforcement hostage, raiding multiple legitimate businesses without police permission, crashing the stock market. In fact, about the only thing Shepard had done over the past months that the hierarchy would have given a nod of approval would have been the destruction of Purgatory.
More and more she began to see the downfall in teaching every turian the same strict regimen as they grew up, the same militarism, the same respect for authority. She very quickly found herself annoyed with her own people, knowing that they wouldn't be effective on a squad like the Normandy. She knew Shevar was still a pilot on Macedyn. Perhaps she could rope her into piloting the ship for her but she'd need to have a ship first. She sighed to herself, knowing her work was cut out for her.
Suddenly, someone pulled a stool out next to her and sat at the bar. She looked over and spied a quarian in a light orange suit. Given the condition of the suit, she couldn't tell if that was its original color or if it had been painted by the polluted atmosphere on Omega. "I've never seen a quarian on Omega before."
"That's because most quarians are smart," he said degradingly to himself as he waved at the bartender. Apparently the turian man knew him because he immediately began making a drink without taking the order. The quarian then looked over at her questioningly. "Oh… you probably wanted the story."
"Not if you're unwilling to tell it," said Ralixia, too curious to back out now.
"Does anyone want to tell the story of their stupidity?" he asked with a sigh and planted his faceshield in his hand.
"If you tell me yours I'll tell you mine," said the turian, interested to hear his woes as she drank.
"Before I was sent on my pilgrimage I was on my home ship, the Watson. It would go out and scout for resources to mark for the fleet. The Migrant Fleet would then send a crew of miners to come get them." He took the canister handed to him by the barman and attached a tube from his mask into it. "Sometimes we would find some that were too inconvenient or out of the way to dig up with the tech we had on the fleet and we'd abandon it altogether. Often, the amount of resources it'd take to collect it would exceed the amount we were estimated to get."
"You sound talented," said the turian as she eyed him curiously.
"Thanks," he said, sounding none too pleased. "I did get very skilled at navigation, coordinates, keeping numbers in my head. I could do a cost and benefit analysis in my head within seconds just from looking at a potential mining site." He snorted angrily as he continued. "When they sent me on my pilgrimage, I thought I could make easy money by going back to those spots. I put a bunch of their locations on a star chart and calculated how much force it would take to punch through to collect them. I found out that about 80% of the resources we abandoned could be accessed using nothing more than a mass accelerator cannon that could fit on a corvette class ship. We'd lose some of the resources in the process, but the amount we'd gain would make plenty of wealth."
"But…" said Ralixia, thoroughly invested in the story now.
"But… the guys I was supposed to go after the resources with I met on the extranet. They were supposed to fund the operation and get 60% of the resources. They would provide the ship, the MAC cannon, and the collectors. All I had to do was bring the star charts and work the machines when we got on site. But as son as I met them, they robbed me. They took my star charts, my credits, and left me to rot in a scrapyard. Turns out they didn't have the funding or the equipment. They just fooled me into thinking they were with heavily doctored pictures. They probably thought they could sell my star chart for some big money," he said as he shook his head. "Never should have trusted them."
"You sound like you want out of here," said the woman as her mandibles twitched. "You said you're good with numbers, coordination, and navigating, right?"
"I did," he said as he looked at her suspiciously.
"How are you with a gun?" she asked curiously as she turned towards him.
"I'm trained in cyber warfare and Pansa Kusa hand to hand. Why? Who are you?" he asked her bewildered at her questions, no doubt questioning whether another offer that was too good to be true was coming his way.
The spectre chuckled slightly as she stood up to her full height. "The name is Spectre Ralixia Voretoria. How would you like a job?"
1226 Apartment Block – Norfair District – Omega Station
It had been a long day. The boss had called them all into the main base and announced something he thought he'd never hear from a Blue Suns group. She stood on the pedestal and announced over the loudspeaker that Shepard was on Omega and that she was not to be stopped, attacked, bothered, or even annoyed by anyone in their group while she was here. They were also advised to wear their armor at all times to make sure she didn't mistake us for anyone else.
He remembered his encounter with her when she came snooping around for Garrus Vakarian. He counted his blessings that she wasn't angry enough to put a round between his eyes. As he sat there tied to Sergeant Cathka and Jentha that day, thoroughly restrained by the metal tape that she and her squad had used on the three of them, he had wondered whether he could actually take her down in a fight. Despite her enormous presence and authority, she was actually rather short compared to him. And he had been training more and more in Tek Tegore. So, he thought perhaps if he had taken her by surprise he might have been able to bring her down himself. He wasn't sure if it was his bruised ego from her exposing him or leaving him tied up and humiliated. But whatever the reason, all thoughts of taking her down fled his mind that same day.
Cathka had stored a blade in his boot. By the time he had gotten them loose, a massive explosion at the base had taken place. When he finally got up to see what was happening, he saw Garm dead on the bridge, mechs swinging around the dead body of Jaroth, and Tarak was screaming his goodbyes as he was crushed to death. The Gowthra Bloodpack were dead, the Eclipse fleeing, and the remainder of his own group hesitant to climb over the bodies of the other merc groups to go after her. It was his first encounter with the legendary spectre, and he prayed to all of his ancestral spirits that it would be his last.
He had been upset at first when Jentha called him in on his day off. But after her explanation, he was extremely grateful that he had. Knowing Shepard was on the station meant he wouldn't be going outside until she was gone. And if he was ordered to go outside, he'd be wearing his full armor, helmet and all at all times so she couldn't recognize him. But for now, he was going to spend the next two days indoors and pray that she doesn't hit Omega with a meteor or something.
Entering his door, he took his helmet off and tossed it onto the chair near the door where he kept his armor most of the time. Sighing to himself, he felt like he was too tired to even remove his armor. "Casvie, can you order something for delivery? I don't want you going out right now," he said as he began the sluggish process of removing his chest plate. He found himself wondering if he could get Jentha to start investing in Blue Suns themed regular clothing instead of just armor. He supposed he could spend a little extra for that for himself, but if he was the only one that did it he'd look like a raging cloaca. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't got a response. "Casvie?"
He looked down the hall to the kitchen and saw that the light was on. Tightening his armor on again, he pulled his weapon off his belt and held it forward. He felt his heartbeat start beating rapidly as the sound of the vidscreen hit his ears. He knew he had been louder than the television, and he knew Casvie was a miser. She had complained his ears raw about the power bill, so there was no way in the world she would leave the vidscreen on and then leave.
"Casvie, could you order some takeout? I don't feel like going out to a restaurant tonight," he said, trying to play it off as if he wasn't aware something was wrong. Then, he spun into the kitchen and aimed his gun right at her. She sat in a chair with a glare on her face icier than space. Lifting his weapon, he glared back at her. "Why didn't you answer me?!" he snapped angrily.
"What the hell have you done now, Baltus?" snapped the turian woman.
"What have I done? What are you talk-" he started, but before he could get another word out of his mouth, his feet were swept out from under him by a powerful kick. He slammed into the laminated tile of the floor and shook his head before realizing what happened. Rolling onto his back, he went to aim his weapon, but another powerful kick smashed into his hand, breaking his grip on it and sending it crashing through the window.
"Hey!" snapped Casvie as she stood up indignantly. "We're gonna have to pay for that!" snarled the turian woman. But Baltus's eyes were wide in terror as he finally saw who was now standing over him. It was another turian with purple stripes over his nose, a visor covering his left eye, and scar tissue burned into the right side of his face where he was missing a mandible.
"Oh shit, oh fuck… shit shit… please!" shouted the man panicking as he tried to scramble back away from the imposing turian. "Please Garrus! Don't kill me! I didn't mean nuthin' by it!"
The operative chuckled dryly. "Of course you're a coward," he said as he glared down at the cowering turian.
"Wha?" asked Baltus in bewilderment.
"Only cowards impersonate people more powerful than them," he said as he drew his assault rifle.
Immediately, Casvie stood up and slid over in front of him with her hands up. "You promised you weren't going to kill him!" she snapped, pleading with her eyes.
Garrus sighed to himself and put the weapon away. "I know I know," he growled before drawing a talon blade from his gauntlet straps. "You owe me ten lives, Baltus. You impersonating me cost me ten loyal men. And by all rights I should carve each and every one of their names into your bloody carcass."
Baltus shriveled up against the wall. "I-I swear I didn't mean to do none of that!"
"I know," snorted Garrus as he spun the blade. "You're a raging moron. You couldn't have planned that out if I gave you a manual and a decade to prepare. You're just lucky," he snapped as he let out a snarl directly into the man's face. Baltus turned his head away, not wanting to look as the blade came closer. "I'm not going to kill you for your idiocy. My men wouldn't take kindly to me killing a spineless bug like you." Baltus slowly turned and looked at the deathglare in Garrus's eyes. "However…"
With a lightning quick slash of the blade, the mercenary felt a stabbing pain on his right cheek. He reached up and felt blue blood pouring over his hand. He looked at the blood wide-eyed with his hands shaking as he began to panic. "What… I…"
But Garrus slapped him and snapped him out of his blood frozen stupor. Reaching up, the turian operative pressed a bandage to the spot where his mandible used to be. Baltus realized then and there what was happening. He looked up at Garrus's right cheek, recalled the ten men killed by Tarak, and the explosion that took place inside the base. And now with Shepard being on Omega, all the pieces finally clicked into place making his eyes widen. "Getting it now, are we?" asked the turian in a spiteful voice.
"Y-You're Archangel!" he said, feeling like he was about to fill the pants of his armor.
"Hmmm… I guess you're not as dumb as you look. Doesn't matter," said Garrus as he put pressure on the wound where he had severed Baltus's mandible. "Nobody is going to believe you because you're a spineless liar. You're going to go on living your life without saying a word. Because if I ever come here again and hear rumors about Archangel being alive, or that I'm the notorious Archangel, I'm going to fulfill my original plan and turn you into a modern art tribute to the men your cowardice got killed. Understand me?"
"I do…" was all he could say as ice ran through his veins.
"Good," said Garrus as he forced the man's head to the side none too gently. "Huh, now that the mandible is gone, you kinda do look like me," he said with an amused chuckle. Finally, he released Baltus and left him on the floor before turning to Casvie. Taking out a credit chit, he passed it to her and bowed his head. "Apologies for the window, the blood on the floor, and your time. This should cover everything I've damaged, his clinic visit, and still be enough for you all to enjoy yourselves for a night on the town."
Stunned at the offer, Casvie took the chit and eyed him. "T-Thank you," she said, her thanks seemingly falling on deaf ears as Garrus put the blade away and left back down the way he had just come. Casvie glared down at him angrily before letting out a snort. "Fine, I'll call the damn medics." Baltus, meanwhile, just laid on the floor and stared up at the ceiling, clutching the sterile bandages to his face to stop the blood flow. He sat pondering for a long while just how lucky he was.
He crossed not just Garrus Vakarian the killer of the reaper ship during the Citadel attack, but also Archangel, the professional gang killer that apparently helped Shepard tear three different merc groups that were all working together apart. He didn't just piss him off, he had gotten his men killed, gotten his face permanently scarred, and ruined his entire life on Omega. But somehow, he still sat breathing rapidly and staring at the water stained ceiling, alive. He let out a heavy sigh, wondering just how lucky he was to be alive right now.
Club Heat Death – Norfair District – Omega Station
"So, how do we go about this?" asked Shepard as she leaned against the wall outside the club. She had already confirmed Morinth's presence inside the club by hijacking their low-quality security cam. The asari assassin had a bunch of what looked like mid-30s men and woman around her, all vying for her attention. But she simply stared down at her datapad from her booth.
"It appears she has brainwashed these humans into bringing her prey. Nefeli's diary mentioned them," said Samara as she looked at the security feed. "We'll likely have to get through them to get to her. Which means trouble."
"Is it really trouble? I could just stealth in there and take her out in seconds," offered the spectre, but the justicar shook her head.
"Unfortunately, many have tried. Snipers, assassins, they try to take her by surprise. But her biotics are as powerful as mine, Shepard," she said, causing Jane's eyes to widen. "An unfortunate byproduct of being an ardat-yakshi. Their biotics are as powerful as a matriarch's even in their maiden phase of life. She has an invisible biotic shield around her at all times, and if your attack doesn't pierce that shield and kill her instantly, she will wipe out a city block to escape."
"Sheesh," said Shepard in surprise as she imagined her shots bouncing off Morinth's shield and then her responding by opening up a black hole on the spot. "So then, what do we do?"
"We've seen her apartment. It's on the top floor and the only escape is the elevator. If we can get her there, then we won't have to worry about her running," said the justicar. "The question is how do we get up there to her. You yourself said the elevators weren't electronic and couldn't be hacked into."
"That's right. The entire top three floors are penthouses that are blocked with card key access on an analogue elevator. That doesn't give us a lot of options besides driving an aircar right through her window," said the spectre as she scratched her head. Then Shepard's eyes narrowed at the woman on the screen. "You said she's attracted to violence, right?"
"Yes. She is a sadist in the purest sense of the form," said the justicar as she eyed the spectre. "Why are you asking this?"
"What if I got her to take me to her room?" asked Jane, not thrilled with the idea but not seeing any other way of trapping her in her penthouse and removing her shield without some kind of nuclear option.
"Shepard, ardat-yakshi are apex predators. With a touch of their hand they can kill any living creature in the galaxy. Are you really suggesting we risk your life for my mission?" asked the justicar, her blue eyes wide.
"Mirala isn't an animal. She's not so addicted to killing that she would get herself killed to kill someone else, correct?" asked Shepard firmly. Samara nodded at the question. "Then she's not going to melt my brain here in the club. She'll have to take me home if she wants me. Assuming she'll be attracted to me at all."
"Shepard, I was trying to figure out a way of getting to her that didn't require you meeting her because I know you're her perfect prey," said the justicar, getting a surprised look from the spectre. "You are a spectre, you are the hero of the Citadel, and thankfully your information brokers have kept information from Illium from getting to her district so she has no idea you were there days ago. I was afraid we would blow our cover because she would notice your energy immediately."
"My energy?" asked Shepard curiously.
"You burn like a star, Shepard. In a sea of darkness, you radiate light and warmth like a sun, bringing life to planets and filling the void with your presence. She will see that in you as soon as she lays eyes on you. Even if she doesn't know who you are, she will be able to tell that she wants you with a single glance," said the asari with a quiet smile.
"Samara, I'm starting to think YOU are flirting with me now," said Shepard, getting an amused chuckle from the woman. Shepard recalled Liara's image of her the first time they melded romantically, a flaming warrior with wings of fire. She was a phoenix burning in the darkness of space. Which, given her death and subsequent resurrection was actually incredibly accurate. "So, really I just have to go in and do something to get her attention."
"That is likely all it would take. But we need a plan for when she decides to take you home. I promise you despite your immense will power, when she lays her hands on you she will start draining you of your resistance to her temptation," said the justicar firmly.
"When she takes me into the elevator, she will have to take her keycard out so I'll know where it's at. Maybe I can pickpocket it from her and throw it into the elevator for you?" said Shepard as she scratched her head of red hair. "Damn, Kasumi or Thane would be better at that than I would."
Samara smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, Shepard. I will find a way in. With her distracted by your presence, it should be a lot easier to manage."
"You sure?" asked Shepard, getting a nod from the asari. "Alright. Just please don't let me die up there."
"I have put my faith in you, Shepard," said the justicar as she reached out and grabbed her hands. Shepard looked down at her calloused blue hands gripping her own then looked up into her eyes. "Please put your faith in me. I will not allow you to die."
Shepard stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding. "Alright. Let's do this then."
Club Heat Death – Norfair District – Omega Station
It had been a boring night. This station was itself a bore to her. She supposed it was too many people like her. Bloodthirsty, cutthroat, out for themselves. She looked over at the group of pitiful humans who had latched onto her, trying to please her by bringing back scoundrels they'd dragged out of the alley. Of course, they were easy prey, but even she had standards. If she wanted to do the world a favor and eradicate the homeless population of Omega she could do that in the span of a single night. But she wasn't interested in the destitute that they kept bringing.
In fact, she was thinking of taking her frustrations of having to leave another home out on them for continuously bringing her trash. But then they had somehow stumbled head first into a sublime example of innocence. The girl was an artist, a sculptor. She loved music and wanted to sell art so she could lift her mother out of the poverty of Omega's lower dregs. She was utterly delicious in every way and it took every fiber of her will not to meld with her on the spot.
Then again, her frustrations came from an obvious source. With her being constantly on the run again, leaving a trail of bodies for the menace to follow wasn't a good option. She had to be very selective with her targets, and therefore she had to get the most out of them when she could find one. Then she had to take long gaps in between each one. It agitated her to no end that her stalker continuously deprived her. Then again, it's what she got for not killing the bitch the first time she caught her. A sentimental moment that she regretted every single time she had to move and relocate.
And now they were both heartless killers that left bodies in their wake across the galaxy. It was almost amusing how much her hunter grew to be just like her in the end. She reached over to the table and grabbed a cigarette made of a human herb known for its ability to get you high and put it in her mouth, wanting to do anything to forget about that nonsense. Grabbing the lighter, she went to light it, but instead her head snapped over as a new person shoved their way through the club and blasted one of her little groupies across the dance floor with a punch that looked like it would break stone.
She sat stunned at the action as the human woman with flaming red hair picked another of them up as if they weighed no more than a bucket of water and slammed them to the ground, causing the floor to shake under them. She immediately felt her blood begin to warm as another of the men were grabbed by the shirt. "What the hell did you do to her you monster?!" shouted the woman in his face. He began to stutter as he began to swing his fists wildly, but she threw a punch into his gut so hard the noise that came out of his mouth sounded like one of his lungs deflated.
The two women from the group tried to run, but she spun around and grabbed them by their hair so hard she nearly scalped them clean and yanked them back. She held them both crying in this pose and turned them to face her. "P-Please don't-"
"You two. If I ever see your fucking faces around this group again I'll make sure your bodies are the next ones they find in an alley," she snapped before throwing them both towards the club door. Her entire group of five human followers were now gone, some unconscious on the floor and the others had fled the club. The woman looked angrier than ever and let out a war cry, releasing a biotic wave that shook the foundation of the club and pushed the tables around her in all directions.
A bouncer ran up to her, but stopped in place when she turned to him. "Look… I just work here," said the turian man as he held up his hands.
The new face snorted and shook her head. "Sorry. I've had a rough day," she said as she put her hands in her jacket pockets. Then she turned to her and Morinth felt her heart flutter lightly at the cold stare. "Didn't mean to disturb your drink. Sorry," she said as she began walking away.
Immediately, she was on her feet and at her side. "Don't go, come to my booth and tell me what's going on."
The redheaded woman turned and eyed her curiously. "You want to have a drink with me after all that?"
"You seem stressed. It looks like you could use the downtime. Besides," said the asari as she leaned forward and whispered. "Not going to lie, you actually made my night."
The human snorted and then nodded. "Alright then," she said as Morinth dragged her back over to her booth in the darkest corner of the club.
"Bouncer boy, get my friend here a drink!" snapped the asari as she looked at the human expectantly.
"Oh… uh, just water…" said the woman, seemingly surprised when the assassin laughed.
"Trust me, the water here will leave you more hung over than the alcohol," she said as she waved a hand. "Just a beer." When the beer finally appeared at the table, she looked the human up and down. Whoever she was, she wasn't a couch warmer. Her entire body exuded combat ready. She felt herself wanting to slide into the booth next to her and start feeling every inch of her carved body, but she had no idea if this woman was even attracted to asari. It'd take a bit longer to draw her in. "So, care to tell me what happened?"
The redhead shook her head and planted her face in her hand. "A friend of mine died a few days ago and I think they were involved. I should have investigated more, but I got so angry and I knew they were involved somehow."
Morinth's brow rose slightly. Her last prey died weeks ago, so whoever these bumbling idiots knocked over couldn't have to do with her. She felt slightly better knowing her trail was still cold. "I'm very sorry to hear that," she said as she reached across the table and gripped her hand. The woman's hand was very warm. It nearly raised her own body temperature a degree or two. But she immediately noticed that she could pick up no emotional signals. This meant she was well trained in more than just biotic combat.
"It's fine. If they did it I'll find out. And if they didn't then they'll know not to fuck around with my friends anymore," said the woman as she eyed one of the groaning men spitefully.
"Are you an investigator?" asked Morinth curiously as she tried to pinpoint her job. She felt like the woman was familiar to her, but she had been so focused on covering her tracks across the galaxy recently that she hadn't read the news for a while.
The woman's red brow rose. "You don't know who I am?"
Morinth's eyes narrowed at her. "You do have a familiar look to you but I can't put my finger on it. Care to help me out?"
"I'm Jane Shepard," said the woman, causing Morinth's eyes to widen and her skin to tingle.
"The first human spectre?" asked the asari, getting a nod.
"That's me," said the woman with a small grin. "Though now I feel like I shouldn't have told you. People tend to get intimidated by my position and put their heads down."
"I assure you there's only one place I'll be putting my head down," said the asari as she eyed every detail of the woman's face. Of course she was the human spectre. Her face had been all over Illium on movie posters and news stories about her mysterious return from death, saving a colony from the collectors, and her completely annihilating the space prison that Morinth had found herself in a few times. Immediately her heart began to hammer against her chest.
The spectre leaned back slightly at the innuendo. "You're very forward."
"Don't like it?" asked the asari woman, hoping she didn't just torpedo her chances.
"Nah, I like forward," said Shepard with a playful grin.
Immediately Morinth felt herself purr in pleasure as she reached up and gently ran her fingers along the inside of the collar of her button up shirt. Shepard's eyes immediately flew to her delicate blue fingers as she began to tug at the collar, showing more and more of her cleavage. "I'm happy to hear that," she said playfully as she leaned forward, her arms automatically doing the work for her and making her chest pop. The spectre's eyes looked from her barely contained breasts up to her eyes. "So, tell me what it's like to be a spectre."
"Hell. One minute you're negotiating the release of a prisoner, the next the entire prison decides to try and kill you," said Shepard with a shrug.
"I heard about that," said the asari as she reached forward and gripped Shepard's hand again. She had to restrain herself from trying to meld with her here. The melding process left her vulnerable to anyone else in the area. And if she started causing the spectre to scream in pain in the booth then someone might just think it's worth it to take her out. Instead, she used more of her skin to try and lure the woman in. "It must be so difficult to have to deal with that day after day."
"I mean, yes. But there are… uh, perks," said the redhead as she looked down at her chest again then looked away in embarrassment. Morinth had to keep herself from laughing at how utterly adorable this killing machine was. Like on the battlefield she's a goddess of destruction, but in the bedroom she's a scared little creature. She felt herself almost salivating over the opportunity to take her home.
"Oh, I can show you the perks. How about you tell me more about your exploits and we go back to my place for a drink in private," she said with an alluring smile.
Shepard looked up at her, her freckled face turning slightly red before nodding. "Alright…"
Velvet Heights Condo 322 – Norfair District – Omega Station
It had taken the better part of twenty minutes to get back to her building. The entire time, Shepard told her stories about her tangle with Saren and his geth on the Citadel. She was far less interested in the stories of killing geth. There was something so hollow about killing a machine. But it didn't matter much. She would have her prize shortly. As she walked in, she blew a kiss to the turian behind the counter. He saw her and nodded immediately.
A few times to get what she wanted, she would have to debase herself. And in order to get the turian man to destroy camera footage of her bringing her victims into the building, she had to offer him something in return. Of course he couldn't meld with her as that would make him as useless as her other followers that were unconscious on the dance floor. So, instead she gave him something more physical in return. But as she held the escorting arm of the spectre, she knew that every second of her boring night with the turian was worth it as she was set to devour the pain of one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. She opened the elevator and activated it with her card key, eager to get up to her room so she could play with her new toy.
In a matter of minutes, they opened her front door and stepped inside her glamorous condo. It was small in scope compared to her abode back on Illium. But it was still luxurious and it did its job of being a nice nest for her to bring her pets. It was soundproof, and the only way out required her to give them access. It was the perfect little den for her.
Shepard looked around the room curiously and saw a few of her works of art. "Don't ask about the art. It's all fake anyway," she said as she spun and grabbed Shepard's hands with hers. "Instead, focus on me." Morinth took the spectre's hands and placed them on her hips. She then reached up and gripped the redhead by the chin, attempting to use her sensory to invade the woman's mind. But she already knew she was a biotic, and she felt the woman's resistence clashing against her. Smiling widely at her struggle as she pulled the taller woman's head down and bit into her neck with her teeth.
The spectre winced slightly, but just gripped her hips harshly in ecstasy. Spinning again, Morinth pushed Shepard onto her couch. Reaching up, she began to pull her shirt down with her finger tips again, keeping the spectre's eyes glued to her chest. She grinned mischievously as she decided it was finally time to take her prize. "Shepard…" she said as she sat on the strong woman's lap and gripped her head in her hands. She began the meld as she leaned down to kiss her. But she felt a stinging white-hot pain that made her jolt back on the couch.
It had only been momentary, but she had seen it. When she connected to Shepard, she was taken to a void with the galaxies and stars of space painting the background. But she couldn't admire the background as her eyes were transfixed on the presence of an immensely powerful titan in front of her, its billowing wings spanning the distance between galaxies. It towered over her tiny frame, its hair and skin burning with the heat of a sun, searing her skin away for that single moment in time. The two cold, merciless eyes of the winged giant stared down into her soul and lit it aflame, burning her from the inside out.
It had all happened in a split second, but it felt as if she had tasted the power of a god. She had never felt anything so exhilarating in her life. Not only did it not deter her, she needed more, she would take more. She would drain Shepard dry of every last drop of her will, drinking in that burning fire until she was raw and unconscious from both pain and pleasure. She looked at her hands, shaking from the sudden blast of pain before looking back up at the groggy spectre. "Wha… what happened?" asked the woman.
Morinth grinned maliciously, ignoring her question before reaching out for her again, her eyes turning dark as she reached out for the spectre once more.
Velvet Heights Condo 322 – Norfair District – Omega Station
Samara had been true to her word. Every moment in the woman's presence was a trial of will. The first time she touched her hand she felt her will shaking, her blood began to rush through her body as she felt herself growing more and more attracted to her. It wasn't a struggle at first, just a noticed feeling of attraction. But the continued contact with her on the way back to the apartment made her feel like she was being drained. She had never felt so out of breath as when the assassin had pushed her onto the couch.
But now she shook her head. Morinth had only touched her for a second. She had planned to blast the woman with her own biotics and hopefully hold her long enough for Samara to arrive. But that one touch felt like a jolt of electricity had shot through her nervous system and touched every nerve on the way. She felt her muscles twitching in protest and began to shake her hands to get them to stop.
Looking up, she saw the predatory smile of the asari in front of her as she reached out to grab her again. "Embrace eternity, Shepard…" Suddenly, the large bay window behind them exploded open, stunning them both as glass shards slashed across her blue skin. She fell off the couch and got to her knees, wiping her purple blood from her face as her eyes narrowed at the figure outside. It was raining hard outside as the red armored asari flew in through the window, her biotics already lit as she landed on the floor with a glare of ice.
Morinth responded by roaring and sending out a massive wave of biotics that slammed into Shepard and hurled her across the room. She groaned as she got back to her feet and watched in awe as mother and daughter clashed with one another. Everytime Samara grabbed Morinth, she would rip herself free with her own biotics. "Looks like the purebreed bitch got a helper!" snapped the assassin as she slammed her mother into the wall twice. "What's wrong, can't kill me yourself?!"
"I do not need Shepard's help to destroy you!" snapped Samara back as she shrugged off the younger woman's biotics and hit her with a blast so powerful that it cannoned Morinth into a wall hard enough to make her cough up blood.
"Can't wait to destroy me to keep me from sullying your good name?" she snapped back as she shielded away one of Samara's biotic attacks and grabbed her, slamming her into the ceiling. "The might justicar with the evil soul-sucking murderous bitch for a daughter!" she shouted as she then slammed her into the floor.
"I am your mother!" yelled the justicar as she broke free again and blasted the ardat-yakshi with a biotic blast point blank that sent her slamming into the wall next to Shepard.
"You're not my goddess damned mother!" snapped Morinth as she tore herself free from the attack. It had caused her immense pain but she did it anyway and returned the attack in kind, grabbing the older asari and hurling her into Shepard. Both the spectre and justicar hit the ground, but Shepard was back on her feet as Samara struggled to get up. "You're a monster, who took a scared little girl and locked her in a prison to sate your conscience," she said as she roared loudly and hit the justicar with a hammer of biotics that cratered the floor. "You're not my mother, you're a monster!"
Samara gasped in pain as blood began to trickle from her nose. By now the entire apartment was flattened and even the walls were crumbling from the power of the biotics being thrown around. The ceiling was all but gone from the explosions caused by their biotics mixing. The open sky rained on all three of them as Samara got to her feet. She was weak, Shepard could see that. But she wasn't done by a long shot. "You're right."
Morinth stopped, her biotics dissipating for a long moment. "What?"
"I was a monster," said Samara as tears poured down her face. "I was your mother, and I should have protected you, guided you. I should have helped you. I failed you. I failed Falere. I failed Rila. I should have accepted you as my daughters and loved you as you were instead of allowing them to take you from me. I should have been there for you."
Morinth's glare returned as she lit her biotics again, her shock over the apology now gone. "Too little too late for your apologies," growled the assassin as she moved to strike again.
"I love you, Mirala, and I understand your pain. But, there is only one way to help you now," said Samara as she used most of her biotic energy to deflect Morinth's own warp attack, resulting in the entire rest of the ceiling being sheared clean from the condo. She flew forward where her daughter prepared for a counter attack. But no biotic attack came. Instead, the ardat-yakshi gasped in pain.
Looking down, Morinth saw a blade made of Yvalice crystal that pierced her barrier now protruding from her chest. She coughed, blood now pouring from her mouth as he biotics fled her body, causing her to collapse to the ground. Samara stood over her as the glowing sword slid clean from her body. She looked down at her daughter, the one she failed with tears stinging her eyes and lifted the blade. But she struggled to move.
Shepard knew it was happening again as Samara sank to her knees, staring at her daughter who was gasping in air desperately, her chest rising and falling quickly as she let out short gasps of breath. The spectre knelt down at the silently crying asari and placed one hand on her shoulders, and the other on the hilt of the blade. Samara looked up at her, her tears disguised in the rain now as it poured down both of their faces. Then she looked back down at her dying daughter and raised the sword high. With one final thrust, the light in the assassin's eyes died out and her head sagged to the side.
Samara released the sword handle and just stared at her daughter for a long moment before leaning over and planting a kiss on her head. "Goodnight Mirala. I will see you again with the dawn and I will greet you no longer as an adversary, but as a mother." Reaching forward, she placed her hand on her child one last time and her powerful biotics pulled apart Mirala's body until she was nothing more than subatomic radiation.
CODEX ENTRIES
Imperator | Government | Palaven
The former governer of the military branch of Palaven, they act as blood brothers to the Primarch and is said to have some control over the military assets of the Palaven Fleet as well as the ground troops. A relic of bygone times in Palaven's history, the role is mostly ceremonial and passed down from one military general to another through a form of knighting.
Tek Tegore | Combat | Martial Arts
The primary form of hand to hand combat in the turian military, it's taught in Hierarchy basic training to every turian. It leans heavily into the turian's powerful legs and is a fighting style based on primarily kicking and keeping a low center of gravity to keep from losing balance, as opposed to the quarian's Pansa Kusa, which utilizes far more agility.
Pansa Kusa | Combat | Martial Arts
A quarian form of martial arts that focuses on acrobatic kicking attacks using the very strong legs the quarians are known for. Unlike turian martial arts which embraces lowering your center of gravity to keep to the ground to form a solid wall of defense, Pansa Kusa makes use of the quarian's natural agility, allowing them to make leaping, spinning, rapid kicks and has, in recent centuries, even included training on the most effective moves to take out the larger geth machines.