Starboard Observation Deck
Normandy
My mind was a blissfully empty blank. No troubles, no worries, not a care in the galaxy. Just perfect stillness and silence.
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Starboard Observation Deck, my chin on my chest, my eyes half closed, just relaxing. Samara had taught me the art of meditation, helping to quell my fears and stress. There was a lot of it to go around.
After the horrific bust-up with Jack, I was walking a tightrope of emotion. Samara had sensed it even before Kelly did. She gently invited me to learn from her, and I accepted.
The justicar was one of the most intimidating people I had ever met, and I was a little nervous about looking like a fool. I had interrupted her centuries-long journey to eliminate injustice throughout the galaxy for my mission, and that mission might be in jeopardy because I couldn't seem to stop screwing up in my personal life.
But Samara understood, somehow. Having lived a thousand years might have helped. There was very little that could surprise her. Samara didn't judge, didn't ask why. She just showed me how. I was a little sceptical at first, not really believing in sitting around and doing nothing.
But then it was like some switch inside me that had been turned on forever, never letting up or taking a break, had finally been shut down for a little while. I welcomed the change. It felt good.
The doors glided open, and Samara walked into the room.
You could always tell whenever Samara entered any place. She had this aura about her, not the literal blue glow of her biotic abilities, but a certain regal presence that demanded attention and respect. People tended to lower their voices, watch their language and straighten their clothing in her proximity.
Partly because she reminded you of an aged grandaunt, with noble blood and titles and a stately manor in the country, getting on in years but with a mind still razor sharp, and could probably run rings around yours without even trying. But the biggest reason was due to her profession.
Justicars didn't care about normal things like family or love or happiness or money. Their only concern was justice, enforcing it and punishing those who defied it everywhere they went.
Even though she was always gracious and polite, every inch a queen in her manners and speech, the crew were wary of her. They knew full well that under normal circumstances, Samara would have zero qualms about ripping them limb from limb before, nailing their heads to the flaming wreck of the Normandyto serve as a warning to other evildoers.
Samara usually demonstrated complete control over herself. In battle, as in everything else she did, the one word that came to mind was grace. She displayed incredible precision born of countless years of practice. She seemed to know the exact bare minimum of effort it took to complete any task. As a result, her every action appeared effortless and calculated to the tenth decimal point.
But a different Samara came into the Starboard Observation Chamber. Her eyes, usually calm and cool, were wide with emotion. Her breathing was ragged. Her hands were restless. She was walking so fast she stumbled and nearly fell, something I had never seen her do before.
"Samara," I said, concerned. "Yeoman Chambers said you wanted to see me."
Samara turned her gaze upon me. "Commander. I realise this might not be the best of times, and I understand that the oath of fealty I swore entails that your mission takes priority. But I cannot remain silent on this matter. I have found my target."
I jumped to my feet. "Your daughter Morinth? The Ardat-Yakshi?"
"Yes. The very same. I have been looking for her for over four hundred years. Now I finally know where she is."
The fact that Samara was still on board the Normandy was a testament to the strength of her dedication to the asari code. If I found someone I'd been looking for after four centuries, it wouldn't matter that I was on a ship. There'd be a me-shaped hole in the hull right away.
Once again, I marvelled at her commitment to her convictions. It also reminded me that Samara spoke the absolute truth, all the time, something which was harder than most people thought. She swore that she would accompany me to my mission's end, so here she was. If I failed to help her and she threatened to kill me once the mission was over, she would not be joking.
Fortunately, it wouldn't have to come to that.
"You don't have to explain further. I'll make this my top priority. Where are we headed?"
Samara said a single word, and I knew it was going to be pure hell.
"Omega."
The Afterlife Club
Omega
"I hate this place," Kasumi grumbled.
"I hate it more than you do," Jacob replied.
"I thought you liked clubs," Kasumi said.
"I like good clubs. Nice drinks, cute clientele, maybe a little Earth music. Not where people kill me for a credit."
"Shut up, both of you," I snapped. "We're here on important business."
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
I heard a muffled giggle from Kasumi behind me and figured that Jacob had pulled a face or something. I didn't mind, anything to ease the tension. Ahead of all three of us was Samara, striding along so quickly we had to jog a little to keep up. She had calmed down somewhat on the journey here, but it was still plain to see she was still worried about the encounter ahead.
Omega, the proverbial hive of scum and villainy. And the Afterlife Club was where you could have the time of your life or get murdered for looking at someone the wrong way. The Afterlife Club was where the movers and the shakers of Omega's 'economy' went to kick back and have a few drinks and enjoy a few dancers after long arduous days of piracy, murders, thefts and other sordid dealings.
The Afterlife was also the personal domain of the asari crime boss Aria T'loak, the infamous, self-proclaimed ruler of all Omega, and nothing on the asteroid escaped her notice.
"Bold declaration: Nobody is allowed entry without an invitation," said the elcor bouncer at the door, barring our way into the club. Like all elcor he was huge and strong and implacable as a mountain, and living on Omega probably meant he wasn't a nice guy like most elcor.
I stopped short and gave him a look. "Don't you recognise me?"
"Annoyed retort: No. Should I?"
"You're not the usual bouncer are you. Where's Bob?" I asked.
"Grudging clarification: Bob is off sick. I am filling in for him tonight."
"Tell you what pal. Let the security cam take a good look at my face, then I'll let them tell you who I am," I said confidently.
A few minutes later...
"Slow-dawning realisation full of horror: Oh dear."
"That's right," I said.
"Hasty statement made to appease: I am so sorry sir. Please, you and your companions may step right in."
"Thank you very much," I said, gesturing to my teammates to follow me.
"Insincere farewell: Welcome to the Afterlife, I hope you will visit again soon."
As we walked in, I heard some other guy complain loudly about being stuck in the queue. He was hammered into oblivion by the elcor bouncer.
"Cliched pun which may or may not be based on a holovid line, I can't really remember for sure: Take the rest of the night off," we heard the bouncer say, before the doors closed.
We were led to Aria by her usual motley collection of goons, without the nonsense of frisking us for weapons this time. I was pretty sure everyone in the entire club was carrying a weapon of some kind.
I made it clear to them the last time if any one of them approached me with a scanner, the only way to remove it from their bodies would be through invasive surgery or a very painful trip to the bathroom.
I had helped Aria secure her position as the number one criminal warlord on Omega by eliminating her competition, helped by Garrus. She wasn't averse to giving me information from time to time. I hoped Samara would be able to recognise Aria's usefulness, it wouldn't do for the justicar to kill her for being a crime boss, and kill me for associating with her.
"Shepard. What can I do for you this time?" asked Aria lazily, from her usual position in Afterlife's prime box seat. If she noticed that Samara was a justicar, she wisely kept it to herself.
"I'm looking for someone," I began, sitting down myself. "An asari Ardat-Yakshi. My sources tell me she's here on Omega, and specifically within the Afterlife."
Aria raised an eyebrow. "I knew it. Nothing leaves a body quite so...empty like an Ardat-Yakshi kill."
Samara stepped forward. "You haven't taken steps to kill her? Guard against her?"
"Why should I?" asked Aria with a shrug. "She hasn't tried to seduce me."
She leaned back. "Her last victim was a young human girl. Pretty thing. She lived in one of the tenements around here. That's where I'd start looking."
"Thanks for the help," I said, getting up.
As always, Aria had to have the last word. "Good luck finding her. Better luck catching her."
We found the tenement Aria was talking about after a bit of searching. It was a dark, shabby place not too far from Afterlife. The sad thing about it though, it was probably one of the better living quarters that could be found on Omega.
"Doesn't seem right, people having to live in places like this," muttered Jacob. I nodded agreement and buzzed the occupant on the inside.
"Hello ma'am, pleased don't be alarmed. My name is Commander Shepard, formerly of the Humanity Systems Alliance. I'm here to talk to you about your daughter's murder."
The reply came back, garbled a little by the cheap communicator. "Are you here about my Nef? She died a week ago and no one seems to care."
"I am indeed, ma'am. Could we step inside for a moment?"
"Oh yes, certainly," the woman said.
Kasumi winked at me. "Smooth, Shep."
The door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman peered out at us. She seemed reassured by the presence of three humans, along with Samara.
"Are you really here to help?" she said incredulously, as if not daring to hope.
"Yes ma'am."
"Rest assured we will do everything in our power to bring your daughter's murderer to justice," said Samara, softly but firmly.
The poor woman's attitude changed completely. It was clear she had been so wracked with grief for the past few days, losing her daughter without any friends or family to help her get through it. There was no law on Omega, and there never had been. Who would care about a dead human kid from the slums?
"The medics said it was a brain haemorrhage, but I know better. This was murder. Someone killed my poor Nef." She glanced over Kasumi, and looked at Samara with a mother's instinct.
"Do you have children? Don't you know how it feels when they've been taken away from you?"
Samara looked troubled. Nef's mother would never know how close to home her remark had hit. "Yes. I do," was all she said.
"I'm so glad that someone believes me, I'm all alone now," she went on, mostly to herself. Then she appeared to fully take in Samara's appearance for the first time.
"Are you with Aria's people?" she asked fearfully.
"We're here to help. Does it matter who directed us here?" I asked reasonably. She appeared to accept my logic. No one else cared that her only daughter was murdered. She resolved to tell us whatever she could.
"Did your daughter have a lot of friends?" I asked. She answered almost immediately, as if eager to talk about her.
"Not really. She was rather shy, you see. Spent most of her time making her sculptures, not hanging out with friends. Something did change in the past few weeks though. She met an asari. Morinth."
I could sense Samara tense up ever so slightly beside me at the mention of her daughter's name. "I see," she said, glancing at me.
"What kind of person was this...Morinth?" I asked carefully.
"I didn't like her. She was always dragging Nef to clubs after hours and I'm pretty sure she gave her drugs. We never met, but Nef talked about her as if she was a queen. You'd swear there was no one else alive when she talked about Morinth."
"That sounds familiar," murmured Samara.
"Samara, does Morinth control her victims with drugs?"
"She controls them through sheer will," she said quietly, but in a voice vibrating with anger. "She loves the lifestyle, the drugs, the music. She's an unabashed hedonist."
"Wait, are you saying this Morinth killed Nef?" asked the woman.
"We believe so. But I swear, she will pay for what she's done," Samara said.
"Oh my god, I should have done something. I shouldn't have let that Morinth get close to her, I should have paid more attention to what Nef was doing. This is all my fault," she sobbed, in tears. Kasumi moved closer and patted her arm sympathetically.
"Your daughter's death was tragic, but it wasn't your fault," I said to her. "The asari we're tracking is very dangerous, and is very subtle in her ways. She alone is responsible for what happened to Nef, not you."
"I hope so. I hope so. Oh, my poor baby," she said. "She kept going to that VIP section of the Afterlife. She always seemed so tired and distracted at home, as if she couldn't stop thinking about Morinth."
I could only think of one other thing to ask. "What kind of a girl was your daughter?"
She looked away. "My Nef had a fire inside of her. She was shy, but creative, and driven...and the best girl a mother could hope for," she said, the last few words choked by a sob.
"Ah yes. She was a sculptor, was she not?" asked Samara.
"Yes. Several galleries were interested in her work. Said it was fresh."
"Can we take a look around your daughter's room, ma'am?" I asked. "It might help us find some clues to lead us to Morinth."
"Everything's the way I left it. I didn't want to disturb her art, her sculptures, her clothes..."
Kasumi squeezed her hand. "It's okay. It's okay. We've all suffered loss. My boss here will do everything he can to avenge your daughter."
"Thank you," said the grieving lady. "I'm sorry. I just miss her so much."
"I too know what it means to lose a daughter," said Samara meaningfully. "We will be respectful while searching your daughter's room. Morinth will not escape again."
"Okay, so what do we know from the holojournal and other stuff?" I asked, after we had looked around the room and examined Nef's things. We were outside, in an alley where no one was watching us. For now.
"Nef was a brilliant artist," said Kasumi. "I really like her sculptures! I almost wanted to swipe one, but then I felt horribly guilty."
"You'd steal from a grieving mother?" asked Jacob, shocked.
"Hey, I didn't in the end."
"That is how Morinth chooses her targets. She goes after unique people, individuals with amazing spirit or talent or skill," Samara explained. "People with a spark, slightly isolated from her peers. She will use them, and then toss them away once they have outlived their usefulness. The hunt excites her as much as the conquest."
We were silent as Samara continued to speak.
"Her body promises unimaginable ecstasy. Her eyes promise you things that you were always afraid to ask of another. Her voice lingers in your ears long after she is gone. Storming her den directly would be a mistake, she must have a hundred escape routes planned. She will then go to ground and not resurface for another century!"
"We gotta lure her out then," said Jacob.
"Exactly! Jacob, you read my mind. Shepard has to go into the VIP section of the Afterlife alone and unarmed," Samara said.
"Oh wow," I said, unenthused. "Really?"
"It is necessary. Morinth is far too cagey. If we go in with guns and allies she will withdraw quickly. It is a subtle, delicate art. Trust me, Shepard."
"In case you haven't noticed, Samara, Shep isn't actually good at subtle and delicate. Blowing up planets are more his thing," said Kasumi.
"That is why he needs to go in there. Shepard, you are an artist on the battlefield. You have the spark that attracts her and will lure her in," Samara said. "But it will have to be a solo effort. At the first sign of trouble that Morinth senses, she will flee."
"We're pulling lookout duty. Got it," said Jacob.
Afterlife VIP entrance
The four of us approached the backdoor of the VIP section. A turian was on guard, dressed in a bad suit. He straightened up at the sight of us.
"Hold up. This place is for VIPs only, for those with the right name. You want something?"
"Someone told me the rest of Omega's nothing compared to this place," I said, trying to affect an air of confidence.
"Sounds like a smart person. Who was it?" the guard demanded.
"He...she...it was...ah hell," I said. I couldn't remember the bloody name! Time for Plan B.
I slammed my forehead into the turian's. Despite the metallic facial plates which hurt like hell, I still put more than enough force into the blow to knock him out. I rubbed my head, then found myself facing Samara's cold glare.
"Look, I'm sorry. I'll get the rest of the job done. Don't worry."
"I can get the door open without them knowing," said Kasumi, working on the door's security system. Meanwhile Jacob was dragging the unconscious turian behind a pillar and restraining his arms and legs.
"When you are face to face with Morinth, subtly encourage her to visit her apartment. I will be following, discreetly. I suggest that Jacob and Kasumi return to the ship, lest Morinth should spot them."
"I'm pretty good at stealth -" began Kasumi, but quietened down when she saw the look on Samara's face. Four hundred years chasing the same target, it was small wonder she wanted to get this one perfect.
"Head back to the Normandy, guys. Samara and I can handle this."
"Sure thing Commander," said Jacob, and he left with Kasumi.
"Ok," I said, turning to Samara. "How do I convince her to bring me home?"
"She admires strength and directness. Honesty, meekness and manners bore her. Violence lights her flame. Be aggressive," she said firmly.
"I could do that."
"Then we are done. Shepard, I do not share this burden easily. You are the only soul I could ever imagine sharing it with. Thank you."
"No problem. You're one of my crew."
I strode confidently into the club. This was going to be interesting. I'd done my fair share of partying over the years and looked for women to go home with, but never someone as deadly as Morinth.
"Hey, do you know where I could get tickets for Expel 10?" It was some clubgoer, accosting me as soon as I walked in. "I heard this amazing asari say they were her favourite band! I want...I just want whatever she wants. I gotta have tickets?"
Asari huh? I stopped and took a closer look at the clubgoer. He was human, around my age but with wild eyes. They looked like they haven't seen a wink of sleep.
"What kind of music do they play?" I asked.
"Huh? Well, they're pretty underground," he said.
"How underground are they?"
"They're so underground their last album was released only on the extranet."
"As a music file?"
"No, as a word document. It's just ten minutes of silence."
"Huh. That's pretty underground," I allowed.
"They are! So, do you have tickets?" he asked eagerly.
"Back off man, or I'll hurt you," I said sternly. The poor man jumped in fright, and scuttled off. I made my way to the dance floor.
In a short span of time I'd punched out three turians who wanted to attack me, intimidated a krogan into backing down, convinced the bartender to buy a round of drinks for everyone, possibly saved an intrepid reporter from a gruesome end, and made the entire club gasp with my slick dance moves. I didn't see anyone who looked even remotely like an asari Ardat-Yakshi though.
Then suddenly, my eyes were drawn to her. It was as if she could be seen only when she wanted to. She was leaning casually against a pillar, holding a drink in one hand. I discreetly checked her out.
Morinth was wearing a skintight black outfit adorned with straps and other strange devices. She looked subtly different from other asari, having a leaner, sharper face and larger eyes. And of course like her mother, she did not have any distinctive facial markings whatsoever.
"I've been watching you," she said. She had a smoky, sultry voice, and despite myself my pants started to get uncomfortably tight.
"You're the most interesting person in this place. My name is Morinth. I've got a private booth, away from the crowd. Why don't you come and sit with me?" she invited.
"Alright," I said, smiling and hoping like hell that I looked dangerous and cool and fierce and all that other jazz. We went over to her booth and I tried to relax.
"Some nights I come here and there's no one worth talking to. Some nights there's just one person who gets my attention. Tonight it's you. Why is that?" she said.
"I know what I like."
"Do you now?" she said, with an appreciative look.
"What do you think of the music here?" I asked.
"Violent pulses, dark rhythms. It stirs something primitive in me. What about you?"
"I prefer this band called Expel 10? They're amazing."
"They get into my head and tear it to pieces! They're playing here soon, maybe we should go together."
"Maybe we should."
After that it was more of the same, with me feeding the lines and Morinth lapping them up. Perhaps she wasn't taken in by me, but if so, she was doing a damn good job of acting.
"Do you want to get out of here? My apartment is nearby and I want you alone," she said, licking her lips. I smiled knowingly and we left together. From the shadows I could feel the eyes of a certain justicar watching us leave.
Normandy
Samara
Samara staggered onto the bridge of the Normandy. She was bleeding from a dozen wounds and her right arm hung limply by her side, twisted at an unnatural angle. She collapsed to the floor, and a dozen crew members rushed over to her side.
"Morinth smashed my communicator," she mumbled through bloody lips. "Had to get back."
Miranda came up, her eyes wide, her face tight. "Samara. Where's the Commander?"
"Morinth has him. She's grown strong, so strong...we have to rescue him."
Miranda turned around and yelled at EDI. "What the hell are you waiting for? We have an emergency on our hands!"
Deep within the bowels of the ship, in a nest of metal and red light, a tattooed girl heard an alarm being sounded.