17: The Captain

'Are you sure about this?' James Booker looked to the main display screen, which took up most of the wall in front of him. The operations centre within the SOTIG hideout, concealed in the city of New Thebes was bustling with more activity than usual and had been since the raid on Salak Vok's compound. Even Natasha and her quarian friend were present, although both were escorted by at least two armed guards. Sure, Booker doubted they were any threat, but in this line of work one could never be too careful.

'Readings are all nominal.' Lena Rogers, second-in-command for this SOTIG branch, turned from the technician seated nearby and set her eyes upon Booker. On the screen, a satellite map of the city was displayed, whereupon one small red indicator was marked. The location it pointed to was about the last place Booker had been expecting to see it.

'The Administrative Complex?' Booker scratched at his chin. About the main operations floor, staff worked at computer terminals or were on calls to Alliance assets throughout the cluster. Natasha and the quarian, Kanen, loitered nearby. Booker had brought them out here, thinking they may be useful despite their less-than-trustworthy status here. Other agents about the place certainly eyed the pair with suspicion. Booker, on the other hand, was more than willing to use whatever resources they had at their disposal in order to get the job done, be it rogue agents or quarian mercenaries.

The tracking devices set upon Salak Vok had done their respective jobs, with the "obvious" one being found and destroyed. The much more sophisticated one, having been ingested by Vok unknowingly, had remained undetected. And now the signal emanating from the batarian's gut was pointing them to perhaps the last place on Anhur Booker had expected it to.

'Governor's Residence, to more exact,' Lena replied. The Administrative Complex lay at the heart of New Thebes, a large compound in which matters of state were conducted. The Governor of the colony presided from there, and the Anhur Governance Committee held their sessions within that very compound.

'Well, that proves it, doesn't it?' This was Natasha who spoke up then, stepping forwards. Booker turned to her; he suspected he was thinking much along the same lines she was. 'Salak Vok has friends in high places. Maybe even the Governor himself.'

'Surely not?' Lena frowned, shaking her head slowly. 'I mean, Salak Vok is a war criminal. His followers slaughtered thousands of innocents during the Rebellions. Why would Governor Rensburg be involved with him?'

'This could explain why Vok was so difficult to locate and capture all this time,' Booker added, unable to help but agree with Natasha's assessment. 'He had the Governor or someone close to him covering for him. Could be some real shady deals going on, which wouldn't surprise me. This is the Terminus Systems and that kind of thing happens all the time.' His gaze flitted towards the quarian, Kanen, who had been standing back from the main group whilst managing to look oddly sheepish at the same time.

'Kanen'Jaslek?' Booker asked him, and the quarian turned to him. 'You used to work for Governor Rensburg, didn't you?'

'I did.' Kanen figured there was no use in denying it, seeing as how such information was on record anyhow.

'How would you describe your relationship with the Governor?' Booker asked him. 'Were you on good terms?'

'More or less.'

'Were you friends?'

Kanen appeared to consider this for a moment. His eyes, just visible through the faceplate of his helmet, narrowed in something thoughtful.

'Close enough to it, I'd think. Why do you ask?'

'Because we need an avenue to get in to see the Governor. You may be it.'

It was Natasha who spoke next, and she turned to Booker with outrage on her face:

'Hey, Booker, Kanen isn't just someone you can use—'

'Use? He's in our custody, Vasiya. We can do with him what we want.' Booker saw the way Natasha's features scrunched up, and he noticed the uneasy way in which the quarian shifted where he stood. 'He doesn't have a choice. If he can get in to see the Governor, then maybe he can help us find out what his connection, if any, is to Salak Vok.' He considered this for a moment more, and another, perhaps more wily course of action came to mind then. Lena, standing to his left, frowned slightly when she saw that all too familiar look appear in his eyes.

'Booker, what are you planning?' She asked him.

'Well, look at this way: we know where Vok is. That is, he's now within the most secure location on Anhur. We won't be allowed inside through the front door, not even if we pull our Alliance credentials. If anything, the guards find out who we're really working for and they might just shoot us for the fun of it.' Booker returned his gaze towards the display ahead, indicator blinking over the green-tinged rectangle that was the roof of the Governor's residence. That building, in turn, was set within a greater compound, wherein a few more much larger structures were located, with greenery and roads separating each one.

'Kanen may have a way in. There is something else, though.' Booker watched the satellite feed further, scratching at his chin. 'If word got out that a known war criminal was being sheltered within the Governor's residence, then people would be upset. They would protest. The pressure would mount. And through that, we may be able to steer the situation to our advantage.'

'You're not actually thinking of doing this, are you?' Lena asked, having caught on to his unspoken plan right then and there. 'It could backfire on us in a dozen different ways. The civil unrest alone—'

'All to catch a criminal, Lena.' Booker turned to her, his decision made. 'The government is corrupt enough as it is. The people around here are just waiting for an excuse to take to the streets.'

'What are you planning?' It was Natasha who asked this, and the way in which she arced her brow made her wariness apparent.

'We're going to let it slip to the local press that Salak Vok is in custody,' Booker explained, turning to face her. 'And that the Governor himself may be sheltering the batarian. As for how true that is, it's impossible to tell right now from this satellite feed alone. However, the pressure that the government receives when people find out about this could be all we need to take advantage of the situation. We need Vok in our custody, and we need that sooner rather than later. The batarian could have a lot to tell us, and so far he's our only real lead as to this business involving Cerberus and the turians.'

'And the encrypted data?' Natasha asked him.

'Safely secured, for now. Some of our analysts are working on it, but it will be slow going without the encryption key.' Booker frowned at her, still unconvinced that she did not know where the key was. If she did, it was her bargaining tool, insurance against any less desirable intentions from the likes of SOTIG or anyone else for that matter. Booker knew that what was contained on the data drive was significant, but if Natasha knew anything of what's on it, she was not telling. Besides, if they could find out more from the likes of Salak Vok, then the picture surrounding this data would hopefully clear up.

'Look, you want me to go in and see the Governor, I can do that.' Kanen spoke up then, uncertainty in his voice. 'Thing is, I don't really think he'd want to see me. We didn't leave on the best of terms last time. Bastard still owes me money, and he promised me a pension for being such a great bodyguard. A pension I'm yet to receive.'

'Even better,' Booker remarked, fixing his gaze upon the quarian. 'That's all the excuse you need. Just demand to see him and your standing as his former bodyguard should be enough. Make a scene out of it if you have to. On top of all the other trouble, you might be able to get in. As it stands, we're planning multiple avenues of getting in there and grabbing Vok.'

'Not another strike, surely?' Lena Rogers shook her head slowly. 'You're going to send a team into the Governor's residence?'

'If we have to.'

'That's crazy. If they find out we're Alliance, this could trigger a war.'

'Unlikely. This is Anhur, Lena. All kinds of people come through here trying to kill other kinds of people. We'd be just one more pack of mercenaries working for some unknown employer, making a mess of things with little to no care for the locals. It's a part that should be very easy to play.'

'The collateral damage…'

'We're not going to level the Governor's residence,' Booker interrupted. 'We'll give Kanen a chance to go in and gather information. We'll have him wired up, which shouldn't be so hard with his environment suit on. Right now, however, I have a few calls to make. Certain journalists about Anhur are about to receive some very worrying news.' He turned and left the group then, heading for the stairs the led up to his office. He heard some worried conversation from those he left behind, which was to be expected. Booker had made a name for himself within Alliance Intelligence as a man willing to do whatever necessary to get the job done. If they had to send a strike team into the Governor's residence to snatch Salak Vok, then that is exactly what they would do. The whole point of SOTIG was that it worked outside of official channels, and as such had carte blanche when it came to completing their objectives. As long as their connection to Alliance Intelligence remained secret, they could do as they pleased.

Booker arrived in his office, little more than a glorified glass box suspended over the main operations centre below. The blinds over the windows were partially drawn, allowing him a view of those working downstairs. He strode over to his workstation and was about to make a call when the terminal at his desk started beeping anyway, indicating an incoming call of some kind. A glance at the ID that flashed upon the screen stated that it was from the communications specialist they had working on the main floor.

Booker accepted the call as he settled himself into the chair at his desk. The young, fair features of the specialist appeared.

'What is it?' He asked her.

'I just intercepted some chatter on local CED channels,' the woman replied. 'Looks like there was some kind of gun battle at Pike's Creek, a small settlement far north of the city.'

'Any other details?' Gun battles were not uncommon beyond the city limits. Mercenaries and pirates and insurgents had a habit of shooting at each other, often leaving the law-abiding citizens caught in the middle.

'They were turian, sir. And their targets were a human female and a turian male. I've already sent the necessary information to our data retrieval department. They shouldn't be long in coming up with some surveillance footage of the incident. No information as to the identities of those involved has come forth, and the CED have cordoned off the area.'

Booker nodded in acknowledgment of the information. Could this be connected to everything else? He thought back to the turian tracking signal that had led them to Salak Vok, and how that signal had eventually led the team to a non-descript stretch of dirt road. The tracking device had been dropped; no doubt having been determined as the reason why the compound had come under attack. Who had been carrying that device? Booker recalled what some of the other batarians taken prisoner during the attack had spoken of, regarding two captives who had escaped during the chaos: a male turian and a female human. As for who they actually were, none of the lowly militia and soldier types they had captured had known. Salak Vok would certainly know, and now with this latest development it seemed finding out who these two renegades were could shed some light on the whole mess.

'Anything else?' Booker asked the woman.

'Not at the moment, sir.'

'Very well. Keep me apprised if anything changes.'

The specialist gave a nod before she ended the video call. Booker mulled over this latest news a moment more, feeling as if he was missing some small part of the puzzle. He looked through the window to his right, towards the operations centre. Natasha was still there, and she and Kanen had moved off to the sidelines where they spoke quietly with one another. The quarian seemed agitated about something, if his tense stance and wider gesticulations was anything to go by. As Booker watched, Natasha placed a reassuring hand to the quarian's forearm, no doubt attempting to placate him.

A rogue agent and a mercenary, hardly the kind of company Booker much cared for. Nonetheless, they were as part of this whole thing as he was, and also the other two as yet unidentified individuals who had been not only at the batarian insurgent compound, but also at the gun battle at Pike's Creek. This was all connected, Booker was sure of it, and he only became more certain as he considered it further.

At his terminal, he started dialling the number for one local news publication, a more prominent and human-centric one at that. The sooner word got out that Salak Vok was in the Governor's custody, the sooner the opportunity to snag that batarian would come. Booker was well aware that this would likely cause problems across Anhur altogether, but he saw no other way to get to Vok short of raiding the Governor's residence. That in itself would be a last resort, and a sure-fire way to get some of his own people killed. He was going to make damn sure that this did not happen.

The thumping at the door, rapid and loud and rattling the entire doorframe itself, was enough to pull the woman from her slumber. She had fallen asleep at her desk again, head down over her holographic interface, a thin trickle of saliva having found its way upon the desktop. She sat up, momentarily at a loss as to where she was and what she had been doing. However, this cleared up quickly, when she figured out then and there that she was at home, in her apartment, and that there was a very obstinate individual trying to bash down the front door.

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her paperwork, or rather the digitised equivalent, was not all the way done. There was too much of it when it came to her line of work, a result of being employed by an agency attempting to remain secretive and thus only employing the bare minimum of staff. A glance at the clock on the wall nearby told her that it was mid-afternoon; she had been up until three trying to get her reports done. She saw that she was still logged into the SOTIG network at her terminal, and so she quickly logged out before she even thought of attending the incessant banging at her front door. If it kept up, the neighbours would likely come out to investigate.

The lights were off in her study, with the only source of illumination coming from the holographic display before her. It offered a gentle, cool blue light, and as she sat up she became aware of hurried, pattering footsteps from the hallway outside.

'Mommy?' The eight-year-old girl who appeared in the doorway looked worried. She was dressed in a simple set of loose light blue pyjamas. She had been in them all day, cooped up in her own room whilst her mother had worked herself to the bone. This was hardly the kind of environment to raise a child in and she knew it, yet she could do little about it.

'There's a man at the door,' the little girl said, and the woman stood up. Dressed in a set of unassuming grey civvies, the forty-year-old xenobiologist and consultant to the Special Observations and Tactical Intervention Group looked to her reflection in the mirror a little to her right. At the age of forty, she often felt she was starting to gradually lose that once visible youthful vigour, and that the rigors of age were becoming all the more apparent in her slightly lined, slightly sagging complexion that often looked back at her from mirrors and the like. Of course, modern medicine offered all kinds of means to preserve one's youth, many of which she took advantage of, utilising her generous pay to do so. And yet, the work and this place and everything else was eating away at her, wearing her down.

She tidied up her blonde hair, tying it back into a bun, all the while the pounding at the door continued.

'Should I get it?' Her little girl asked.

'No, no, it's okay. I'll get it.' She turned to her daughter, stepping over to her and squatting down such that she was eye level with the girl. 'Why don't you go back to your room? When the man's gone, I'll make you something to eat, okay?'

The little girl nodded. She trudged her way back to her bedroom, doing so with clear trepidation. The woman stood up again, watching her daughter head back down the hall. The apartment was dark, perhaps too dark, and the blinds on the windows of the nearby living area were all closed. She would open them later, just as soon as she sent whoever was at the door on their way.

She paused before the door, taking a moment to regard the small display set into it. A simple camera, it offered a view of what was on the other side, and with the press of a button she felt her intentions to send the visitor away evaporate altogether. No, she had to let this one in, despite her misgivings. Least of all, she could see that he was hurt.

Unlocking the door, it slid open and the wounded turian stumbled inside, glowing blue eyes wide with anger. She stepped out of his way, watching with some concern as dark blue blood trickled down his arm and onto the floorboards.

'My god, Lassius, what happened?'

The turian did not reply. He was in his armour, sans helmet, and his pale features were fully on display. This included his enhanced eyes, which were alight with a mounting rage that the woman, Rachel Shaw, was all too familiar with. She moved towards him, offering him a placating hand, but he swept it aside and instead stormed his way for her bathroom.

'Lassius, wait…' She started after him. Lassius Marelix, Captain of the turian Blackwatch, had come to her nearly three months ago seeking assistance on a secret mission. At the time, she had been inundated with legal fees, a result of a messy divorce, and so she had accepted the money he had offered. She had not felt comfortable doing so, but she had been desperate, and her SOTIG pay had only gone so far.

Marelix switched on the lights in the bathroom and began to pull open the cabinets and drawers within. Shaw joined him in there, once again struck by how pale he was, a fact all the more pronounced in the stark lighting within the bathroom. Marelix had inherited a rare genetic trait that was essentially the turian version of albinism, one that made his plates especially sensitive to the potent solar radiation of the turian home world. Of course, that hardly mattered here on Anhur, but another side effect had been poor eyesight, which in Marelix's case had been solved by sophisticated implants. She had not seen him for nearly two weeks now, and so his sudden return and his bloody injuries came as a surprise.

'Did you apply medi-gel?' She asked him.

'Of course I did.' Marelix practically snarled the words. Shaw paused, seeing something predatory in his gaze. Sometimes she forgot that turians had indeed been apex predators on their home world, and every so often some aspect of that seeped through their normally civilised exteriors. When the typical haughtiness and confidence gave way, it was not hard to find the predator underneath.

'Look, could you keep it down? You can patch yourself up, but I have to see to my daughter.' Shaw watched Marelix as he began to strip off the armour on his torso, pulling it off in pieces and gradually revealing the flexible under suit beneath. His pale hide gleamed in the light, a near white with a slight grey tinge. Blood seeped from the ragged wound at his forearm, and the sight of it, thick with his own dark blue blood, made her feel a little queasy. She was no soldier, nor a field agent. She had studied alien species, learned what made them tick, their physiology and what ailments affected them, but she could still not quite get over the sight of blood. Certainly not in its raw, unsterilised form, as she saw now pouring from the turian's wounded arm. In a laboratory, things were clean, the mess was gone and a cadaver did not gush blood like a living being did.

She left the turian for the time being and walked down the hall to her daughter's room. Her little girl was on her bed, the curtains open to allow some level of the afternoon light to seep in. Allison Shaw was perhaps the one thing Rachel Shaw could find solace in these days, in the face of the hardships that had befallen her in the past couple of years. She regretted ever coming to Anhur, and deep down she held some uncertainties regarding the assistance she had offered the turian Blackwatch, or more specifically, Captain Marelix. Even so, the money the Captain had offered her had gone a long way, and given a few more months her tenure on Anhur would end and she could finally move on to greener pastures, preferably far from the Terminus Systems and the lawlessness that pervaded that region of space.

Her daughter was reading from a small pocket computer pad. The room was small, decorated with posters and stuffed animals and the like. The little girl looked to her mother as she entered, and she leaned over the bed in order to give her a light peck on the cheek.

'Who's the man, mommy?' Allison asked her.

'Just a friend. Don't worry about him.' Rachel stepped back a little and used one hand to brush aside a few errant strands of her daughter's hair that had fallen over her face. 'I'll make you something to eat. What would you like? Sandwiches?'

'What about cake?'

Shaw shook her head slowly, smiling.

'No, that comes after the sandwiches, all right?'

Allison nodded her head in understanding, if betraying a little disappointment. Her mother turned and left the room then, headed for the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes, weariness apparent, as she moved into the kitchen and began to assemble the various odds and ends necessary to make a sandwich. It occurred to her, as she opened the refrigerator, that she had run out of a lot of ingredients. Nonetheless, there was still some ham and a few slices of cheese within the almost empty refrigerator. Sighing, Shaw began to assemble a pair of sandwiches using locally made bread, and she made sure to cut the crusts off before she returned them to her daughter's room. Leaving her little girl to her impromptu meal, Shaw returned to the bathroom.

Marelix was topless now, wrapping bandages steeped in medigel over the wound. As Shaw appeared in the doorway, he turned about to face her. His eyes, glowing a dim blue, narrowed as he regarded the woman.

'I might have to lay low for a few days,' he told her.

'What happened?' Shaw asked him. Marelix tied off the last of the bandage, wincing as pain lanced up his arm. The arm itself moved a little limply now, and as he flexed it as if to test the muscles he emitted a low, pained hiss.

'You need to go to hospital,' she told him. Concern seeped into her voice, and the turian turned to face her. He was more than a head taller than she was, and sometimes she could not help but feel a little intimidated in the way he could look down at her. Even so, she did not fear him, and instead had come to admire him in some ways.

'No, I can't do that. I wouldn't want the wrong people tracking me there.' Dark blue blood had stained much of the sink. He turned the tap on then, washing most of it down the drain. 'If I may stay here…'

'I don't know if that's a good idea.' Shaw swallowed. She did not want to decline him, but she also did not see how easily this latest suggestion of his could be to put into practice. To have a turian black ops soldier hiding out in her apartment, it seemed crazy. Then again, until recently she had never seen herself providing covert assistance to just such an individual to begin with. Things could change very quickly, and as she regarded Marelix with a lingering, uncertain stare she saw him stand up straight. He took a few steps towards her, brow plates narrowing and the look in his eyes adopting a near predatory gleam.

'I missed you,' he told her, his flanging voice low. Shaw shivered as he put a hand to her cheek, trailing one finger along the jawbone. The claws on each digit were short but pointed, and the feel of his rough, leathery touch upon her much smoother variety drew forth feelings from within her that had been buried since her last encounter with this turian.

'I missed your hair, your soft skin, your eyes, your smile,' Marelix added, and he swept his hand through her hair, taking the time to savour the sensation the silken strands brought. 'I need your help, Rachel. Please.' He injected the request with just the right kind of pleading tone, and Rachel nodded her head. How could she refuse this man, especially after what they had shared the last time he had visited her?

'Okay, Lassius. I don't think I could say no to you, not really.' She looked him in his eyes, the way his irises glowed a noticeable blue always able to catch her eye. 'But you're going to have to tell me what went wrong. Who shot you?'

Lassius took his hand away from her, his brow plates forming into a scowl. He flexed his aching, bandaged arm again, clenching his jaw against the pain.

'It's complicated,' he told her.

'You can tell me. We have time.'

'Enemies to the turian people tried to kill me,' Marelix stated. 'That's about all you need to know. The less you do know, the better off you will be.'

Shaw nodded her head. That sounded about right. Turian pride was not so easily chipped away, and she offered the tall and somewhat brooding turian a smile. The circumstances of his visit were obviously negative, but now that he was here she found that there was something good to be gained from it all. She had to quell any stirring thoughts about her being a traitor, and instead she set her attention firmly upon the pale turian altogether.

'You hungry, Captain?' She asked him. 'I still have some of that dextro stuff leftover from when you were here last.'

Marelix shook his head slowly. The look in his eyes then made it clear to her that he was hungry for something very different.

Shining, pale white plates and slightly darker hide slid tantalisingly over soft, feminine flesh. The lighting within the bedroom was dim, the curtains drawn, evening slowly falling over the city. Rachel Shaw's breath caught in her throat as the turian above her leaned forwards, running his long, blue tongue down her neck and towards her chest, tasting her. Clawed hands trailed down her naked form, leaving faint white marks in their wake.

Shaw looked up into the eyes of the predator above her, and he drew his head back to catch her gaze. He leaned in, his somewhat pliant mouth plates pressing against her lips. He pushed his tongue past them, practically sticking the long blue appendage it down her throat. Rachel wrapped her arms around the turian, tracing the leathery hide that was broken up by the firmer, pale plating that covered his torso. She could feel his need pressing against her thigh, an urgent and pale grey erection that had slipped eagerly from its protective sheath. An evolutionary necessity on Palaven, given the planet's weak magnetic field: the most sensitive parts of a male were tucked away until needed.

He was tall, oddly thin yet his body contained such strength that Shaw knew he could break her so very easily. The thought of having this powerful beast atop her thrilled her, and she allowed herself to forget her worries for the moment and to simply bask in the attentions this turian offered her. He kissed her, or kissed her as best a turian could, gently nipping her with his mouth plates. He teased her breasts, something that turian females did not really have, yet Marelix seemed rather taken in by them and lavished attention upon both of them with his mouth and tongue.

Shaw remained on her back, hands wrapped about him, and her patience waning somewhat. She reached down then, locking her gaze with him as she wrapped one hand around his cock, teasing the slightly tapered head. Marelix emitted a gasp at the sensation. Slowly, she guided him to her entrance, rubbing her moistened slit with the head of his phallus. She teased the slight ridges that were evident along his erection, and Marelix emitted a low growl that sent her heart racing.

Suddenly, he had taken her hand from his length and had instead pinned it to the bed by her side. His wounded arm did not seem to be bothering him so much, for his lust had apparently overridden his pain receptors in that regard. He put his other hand to his length and slowly guided it into her, pushing himself forwards in a sudden movement that saw him hilted inside her.

Shaw let out a low moan, closing her eyes as she revelled in the pleasing fullness brought on by the turian's abrupt intrusion. An intensity came upon Marelix's face then, and he began to thrust into her in earnest, working himself into a slow languid pace that had him savouring every sensation this human's tight passage offered. It did not take long for him to have the human woman crying out beneath him, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, and his previously slow pace soon became a more punishing, pounding rut.

There was little in the way of foreplay here, nor any desire to change positions. The pair simply worked each other to the completion they desired, firm plates rubbing against soft flesh, the moist slapping sound offered by the turian's thrusts punctuating the pair's moans and cries. Shaw threw her head back, legs tight around the turian's waist, and she let out a yelp as she was pushed over the edge. Her body convulsed and her inner muscles clenched tight around the turian's length, forcing an orgasm out of him that saw him spilling deep inside her. He let out a shout of his own, tensing above her, losing himself as he filled her.

And then he was panting above her, and she below him. Marelix lowered his head, a boneless heap atop her, and as he regained his senses he nipped her lightly on the neck. One hand moved languidly to a breast, and there he teased the rosy red nipple, an absent move on his part that Shaw was still too breathless to really appreciate.

'Mommy?' A familiar voice cut through the dark. 'I heard noises…'

Shaw turned her head, her heart lurching, and she saw in the doorway her little girl. Marelix noticed her as well, but unlike the woman beneath him he hardly seemed concerned. Instead, he simply trailed his tongue over one breast, teasing the other with his hand.

'Not right now, sweetie,' Shaw groaned, trying to ignore the turian above her and the fact that he was still inside her. Allison Shaw watched the pair from the doorway, evidently a little confused, some worry on her young face.

'Just…' Shaw trailed off. The turian above her finally slipped his softening cock out of her, before he rolled onto the bed by her side. Shaw went to sit up, but she felt some odd sense of embarrassment then, and a renewed worry over her daughter. 'Please, Allie, it's all right. I'm all right, okay?'

The girl did not appear convinced, but she otherwise turned and left the room. Shaw felt the turian beside her shift closer, and he nipped the side of her neck. Shaw wanted to push him away, ashamed of herself, ashamed not for what they had just done but for the fact that this turian had persuaded her so easily into leaking information to him. She was a traitor, pure and simple, and Lassius Marelix had taken advantage of her, of her financial situation as well as her overall loneliness.

'Should have locked the damn door,' Shaw muttered, lying back and trying to relax. Marelix sat up beside her then, looking down at her with what she thought to be a smirk at his mouth. It was sometimes hard to tell with turians.

'She'll be fine,' Marelix stated, with a little too much of a dismissive tone to his voice. Shaw frowned, turning to him, once again struck by the way his eyes glowed all the more so in the darkened room. 'Now, Rachel, I do need your help. More than just a place to lay low.'

She narrowed her eyes, finding that the mood was slowly turning sour. Marelix was hardly what one might call a romantic. Then again, she had not taken him to bed for a romance, but rather for a more primal, physical need.

'You need to go back to the office,' he told her, and he fixed his glowing blue eyes firmly upon her. 'There are things going on now that I need information about. I need to know your organization's movements, and I need to know what they know.'

'You want me to spy for you?' Shaw's frown deepened. 'I gave you the information you wanted. That was easy enough. I can't be your spy—'

'Yes, you can. And if you know what's good for you, you will do exactly what is asked of you.' There was something of a threatening tone to his voice now, one that only seemed to make the dual flanging tones within it all the more pronounced. Shaw felt something tug at her insides then, a sinking feeling that maybe she had allowed herself to get dragged into something far more dangerous than a mere exchange of information.

'I'm not due back in the office for a few more days. I'm a consultant, remember?'

'You have clearance. Use it.'

'I don't have full clearance…' She did not get a chance to finish. The turian was on her immediately, pinning her to the bed with one hand firmly clasped over her mouth. The strength contained in that slim, plated body of his was startling, more than anything Shaw had been expecting. His eyes contained a renewed ferocity, yet he did little more than keep her mouth covered and his eyes on her own. This was enough to cow her completely.

'Stop making excuses,' he growled. 'You will do as I say, or I will hurt your daughter. Is that clear?'

With what little movement she could muster whilst pinned under his powerful grasp, she nodded her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest now, and she could practically hear it thumping in her ears.

'I did not come all this way to have my progress stymied by a stubborn human,' Marelix added. His other hand went to her neck, and there he lightly scratched at the skin over where her carotid artery was located. 'I could break you so very easily, Rachel. Remember this.'

Again, she nodded her head. She had always suspected Marelix had a mean streak, but he had not been expecting anything like this.

'I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. Please, do not cry out. I do not wish to draw any unwanted attention.' Slowly, he lifted his hand off of her mouth. He watched her, ready to silence her again if she shouted. The walls were thin enough around here as it was, and chances are the neighbours had already heard the pair rutting like animals earlier. She could cry out, but people around here generally kept to their own business. New Thebes was a city of divided communities, courtesy of the war that had wracked the colony several years before. People would rather keep to themselves than risk inviting any trouble their way.

'When morning comes, you will return to your office. Is that clear?' Although it sounded like a question, there was not to be any argument. Lassius Marelix was not someone Shaw had any desire to fight with, and so she lay still under him, hoping to God that he would not hurt her. Looking down, she sighted his pale erection, for the threatening action had evidently excited him.

'Roll over.' He had noticed the direction of her gaze. Shaw did as she was told, and Marelix positioned himself over her, running his hardened length lightly between her buttocks before he found her moistened entrance. Still slick with his own release from earlier, he thrust forward, hilting himself inside her in one movement. Shaw groaned, hands clenching at the bedsheets as the turian behind her began to hammer into her, keeping her pinned in the prone position whilst he did so. He grunted and heaved with the exertion, whilst the woman beneath him stifled her cries with the pillow under her. This was even more animalistic than it had been before, simply a means for Marelix to get the release he craved so much, regardless of how the woman beneath him was feeling.

He leaned forwards then, breath hot on her neck. Without warning, he bit into her shoulder, hard enough for his teeth to just prick her skin. However, he was sensible enough to not go in all the way, unwilling to risk doing any serious damage to this woman he held under his power. Shaw let out a quiet whimper at the slight pain, and when the turian took his mouth away there were several red welts where his pointed teeth had poked into her.

He quickened his pace, and Shaw could not help but be dragged along in her own pleasure. The turian threw his head back as he came, emitting a low growl as he spilled inside her once again. Shaw could not keep her own orgasm from overcoming her then, and she moaned into her pillow. She felt him slip out of her then, as he rolled off of her and lay on his back beside her. Shaw remained where she lay for a little while, unwilling to look Marelix in the eye. Deep down, she regretted ever having allowed him into her life, and yet she had taken his money and helped him more than once. What did that make her, really? Some kind of whore?

'Don't rest too deeply, Rachel,' Marelix said. He reached over and trailed a hand lightly across her back. 'It's still early, and there are a great many things I wish to do to you.'