Sins of the Father, Sins of the Flesh
folder
+M through R › Mass Effect
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
3,748
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
+M through R › Mass Effect
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
3,748
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
All Mass Effect intellectual property reserved to Bioware and Electronic Arts; I make no claim to ownership and make no profit from this fiction.
Killer Queen
Aria had been alerted as soon as the Normandy docked. One of the guards by the door radioed to tell her it was Shepard, Mordin, and “some drell.”
She raised an eyebrow. She’d heard Krios was with Shepard now, but hadn’t quite believed it. How did the woman do it? Aria had taken a special interest in any and all stories involving Shepard, no matter how outrageous (and some of them were quite entertaining; the one about how Shepard killed a thresher maw on Tuchanka had her near tears with laughter), and even if ninety-nine percent of the stories she heard were complete bullshit, the last one percent were amazing enough to impress even her.
Not that she’d ever show it.
They came in three abreast, then Mordin and the drell dropped back, leaving Shepard on point. One of the guards went out to meet them, holding up a scanner; he put his hand on Shepard’s shoulder and Aria could almost hear the snap of fingers breaking as she forcibly removed it.
Then she saw them all coming upstairs, but heard only one set of footsteps: Shepard’s. The woman sounded like she’d poured lead in her boots. She could see Mordin shaking his head slightly; the canny doctor had probably warned Shepard against giving too much away, but it looked like she’d promptly shoved his advice out the nearest airlock. Aria could see the woman’s face was calm, but the broken-fingered guard and the heavy footfalls told her all she really needed to know about Shepard’s mental state.
When the trio reached her, she gave a curt nod of the head to her guards and they left the loft.
Aria, sitting in her usual spot, gestured to the couches around her. “Have a seat.”
All three remained standing.
She rolled her eyes, tapped a few buttons on a console beside her, and a stasis field shimmered into existence, then faded to invisibility. Instantly, the noise from the club disappeared. Then she picked up a glass from the table and threw it as hard as she could; it hit the field, dropped, and shattered.
“I said, have a seat.”
As the three sat down, Shepard said, “Sorry about your guard,” not sounding sorry in the least.
Aria shrugged. “I told them not to stop you. Asshole decided to think on his own, and he paid for it. Good lesson for the rest of them.”
“What’s with the stasis field?” Shepard said.
“Sometimes, I need to be seen but not heard. By the way, if any of you had any bugs on you? They’re fried now. Sorry about that.”
“So, nobody gets in, nobody gets out, we can’t hear them, they can’t hear us?” Shepard said.
“Exactly.” Aria lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
She let the silence spin out. Shepard was good, but she was better; living for centuries taught you patience, if nothing else.
Shepard held out longer than most did, and her voice was even when she spoke, but Aria saw the tension in the little muscles of her jaw and in the set of her shoulders.
“So what’s the what, here, T’Loak?”
“I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Somebody’s breaking the first rule of Omega.”
Shepard sat back, crossing her legs so her right ankle rested on her left knee.
“And I should care…why?”
“I heard your pet turian’s missing. Maybe I can help you find him.”
Three things happened near-simultaneously: Shepard stood and drew her pistol, Aria snatched it from Shepard’s grasp biotically, and Thane rose and pressed the muzzle of his sniper rifle against Aria’s temple. “Where is he?” Shepard growled.
Aria almost smiled.
“I suggest you call off your assassin,” she said, casually reaching for a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a drag. “Be sure and use some hand gestures.”
The two women locked eyes. Aria saw that Shepard had just grasped the situation, and then she did allow herself a small smile. “Sit,” Aria said, waving her hand.
Shepard nodded, and made a “stand down” gesture toward Thane, whose expression never wavered. He nodded and sat. Then Shepard sat down herself, slowly, in the same pose she’d taken before.
“You are quick, for a human. Now that everybody out there knows exactly who’s in charge in here, we can stop wasting time and get down to business. Sorry about that, by the way; you know a woman in my position can’t really be seen asking for favors.”
“And with the field up, nobody can hear you ask for one either, right?” Shepard said.
“Exactly.” Aria took another drag off her cigarette.
“So what is it?”
“A girl’s gone missing and I need you to find her.”
Aria leaned forward and placed a holo on the table, then switched it on, and the image of an exceptionally beautiful young asari sprang into being. The girl had clear, sky-blue skin and large, shining eyes; her lips were full and soft. She was tall and slender, slim-hipped and small-breasted, with a waist that nipped in to give her an hourglass figure.
“This is Petra,” Aria said. “I’m her father.”
She raised an eyebrow. She’d heard Krios was with Shepard now, but hadn’t quite believed it. How did the woman do it? Aria had taken a special interest in any and all stories involving Shepard, no matter how outrageous (and some of them were quite entertaining; the one about how Shepard killed a thresher maw on Tuchanka had her near tears with laughter), and even if ninety-nine percent of the stories she heard were complete bullshit, the last one percent were amazing enough to impress even her.
Not that she’d ever show it.
They came in three abreast, then Mordin and the drell dropped back, leaving Shepard on point. One of the guards went out to meet them, holding up a scanner; he put his hand on Shepard’s shoulder and Aria could almost hear the snap of fingers breaking as she forcibly removed it.
Then she saw them all coming upstairs, but heard only one set of footsteps: Shepard’s. The woman sounded like she’d poured lead in her boots. She could see Mordin shaking his head slightly; the canny doctor had probably warned Shepard against giving too much away, but it looked like she’d promptly shoved his advice out the nearest airlock. Aria could see the woman’s face was calm, but the broken-fingered guard and the heavy footfalls told her all she really needed to know about Shepard’s mental state.
When the trio reached her, she gave a curt nod of the head to her guards and they left the loft.
Aria, sitting in her usual spot, gestured to the couches around her. “Have a seat.”
All three remained standing.
She rolled her eyes, tapped a few buttons on a console beside her, and a stasis field shimmered into existence, then faded to invisibility. Instantly, the noise from the club disappeared. Then she picked up a glass from the table and threw it as hard as she could; it hit the field, dropped, and shattered.
“I said, have a seat.”
As the three sat down, Shepard said, “Sorry about your guard,” not sounding sorry in the least.
Aria shrugged. “I told them not to stop you. Asshole decided to think on his own, and he paid for it. Good lesson for the rest of them.”
“What’s with the stasis field?” Shepard said.
“Sometimes, I need to be seen but not heard. By the way, if any of you had any bugs on you? They’re fried now. Sorry about that.”
“So, nobody gets in, nobody gets out, we can’t hear them, they can’t hear us?” Shepard said.
“Exactly.” Aria lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
She let the silence spin out. Shepard was good, but she was better; living for centuries taught you patience, if nothing else.
Shepard held out longer than most did, and her voice was even when she spoke, but Aria saw the tension in the little muscles of her jaw and in the set of her shoulders.
“So what’s the what, here, T’Loak?”
“I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Somebody’s breaking the first rule of Omega.”
Shepard sat back, crossing her legs so her right ankle rested on her left knee.
“And I should care…why?”
“I heard your pet turian’s missing. Maybe I can help you find him.”
Three things happened near-simultaneously: Shepard stood and drew her pistol, Aria snatched it from Shepard’s grasp biotically, and Thane rose and pressed the muzzle of his sniper rifle against Aria’s temple. “Where is he?” Shepard growled.
Aria almost smiled.
“I suggest you call off your assassin,” she said, casually reaching for a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a drag. “Be sure and use some hand gestures.”
The two women locked eyes. Aria saw that Shepard had just grasped the situation, and then she did allow herself a small smile. “Sit,” Aria said, waving her hand.
Shepard nodded, and made a “stand down” gesture toward Thane, whose expression never wavered. He nodded and sat. Then Shepard sat down herself, slowly, in the same pose she’d taken before.
“You are quick, for a human. Now that everybody out there knows exactly who’s in charge in here, we can stop wasting time and get down to business. Sorry about that, by the way; you know a woman in my position can’t really be seen asking for favors.”
“And with the field up, nobody can hear you ask for one either, right?” Shepard said.
“Exactly.” Aria took another drag off her cigarette.
“So what is it?”
“A girl’s gone missing and I need you to find her.”
Aria leaned forward and placed a holo on the table, then switched it on, and the image of an exceptionally beautiful young asari sprang into being. The girl had clear, sky-blue skin and large, shining eyes; her lips were full and soft. She was tall and slender, slim-hipped and small-breasted, with a waist that nipped in to give her an hourglass figure.
“This is Petra,” Aria said. “I’m her father.”