Mass Effect. The Consort
Characters: John Shepard, Sha'ira.
Location: Citadel, Consort's quarters.
-- I will give you a story. I will tell you who you are and who you will become. I see the sadness in your eyes. A story that makes me want to cry. A story of pain and loss. But it is the pain that guides you, the pain that gives you strength. It's the strength that kept you alive when everyone around you was dying. You are the only one who survived. And you will continue to survive. I'm talking about what you are now, not what you will become. This is only the foundation of your future greatness. Remember these words when in doubt, Captain.
The billions of people in the galaxy would have paid millions of credits to be this close to Sha'ira. And yet Shepard still wasn't sure who she was. A prophet? A thinker? Just a high--class prostitute who'd made her skills so famous that her appointments were booked years in advance? Frankly, Shepard didn't believe in any of these theories. Besides, now that he was near Sha'ira, the Alliance soldier felt no particular emotions or feelings.
Was the Azari before him beautiful? Absolutely. Her azure skin seemed to absorb the light that illuminated the small room in which the alien stood. Masterfully applied make-up flawlessly emphasised the expressive shape of her face and the sapphire hue of her eyes, framed by dark mascara. The long white and pink dress accentuated the slender figure of the famous beauty, slightly overstretching her small breasts and exposing the lower part of the rounded halves, like the outfit Emily Wong wore for the "exclusive interview" with Shepard. But the Consort's appeal was not in her outward beauty, but in the way she presented herself.
Her voice, the way she spoke, even the movements the Azari made as she turned to face the other person and assumed Her voice, the way she spoke, even the movements the Azari made as she turned to face the other person and struck a comfortable pose for conversation - everything was so simple, natural, and yet charming that it was impossible to look away from the galaxy-wide celebrity. Still, Shepard didn't think of her as anything special... She was just another galactic citizen he'd just helped, who rewarded him in a strange way - by telling him what he already knew about himself. The words about "history" and "future greatness" were beautiful and arrogant, but meaningless, and Shepard couldn't hide his disappointment as he replied:
-- Uh, thanks...
The Captain's gratitude sounded so insincere that even a five-year-old could tell it was a lie. What about someone who had spent her life talking to thousands of people of different races?
But instead of the expected resentment or bewilderment, Sha'ira just smiled a charming white-toothed smile and gave a quiet, polite laugh, as if to apologize for the uselessness of the reward. And then she said, meeting the captain's eyes as if she could see into the depths of his soul and read all his desires:
-- Close your eyes and relax, Captain.
Even though Shepard hadn't had much time to rest since the mission on Feros, the man was slightly suspicious of the Azari's suggestion. But before a single word escaped his lips, Shaira put her index finger to his lips and spoke softly:
-- Believe me, Shepard. What you need more than anything right now is a few hours of rest.
Her graceful hand touched the left shoulder pad of his armor and tapped it with neatly manicured fingernails.
-- Take it off. Don't worry, this is the safest room in this part of the Citadel. No matter what happens here, no one but those in this room will know.
The man didn't doubt the Azari's words - her reputation would suffer if anyone else found out about the secrets they shared. So the idea of securing a place like her own office (which was actually more like a bedroom) made sense. Shepard wouldn't even be surprised to learn that the whole room was actually a self-contained bunker. The Consort could afford that level of security.
And yet her words had been successful. With the Normandy docked again for refueling and Engineer Adams and Tali making minor repairs, the crew had another day of rest. Shepard, like the rest of the crew, wanted to use it to get away from the daily grind, but fate had other ideas. First, there was a not-so-pleasant meeting with Ambassador Udina and Anderson, then a stroll through the army stores, and finally they had to go on a real "secret mission" at the request of the Consort herself.
Shepard wanted to forget the details, because they weren't very interesting. But the man still hoped for a reward more substantial than a set of empty words.... So, after a moment's thought, he decided to take the opportunity to rest. Besides, what could he say, the man liked where the consort was taking their dialog. In any case, if she could really guess the wishes of her clients, the further development of events promised to be very interesting, because Shepard had only one wish now.
Some might call the Captain a rough uncouth prick, but John had reason to want only her body from the Consort. Beyond that, there was little she could give him. He wasn't interested in the secrets of the political arena, let alone vague predictions about his own future. But grabbing the ass of the one who drove billions crazy... Yes, that would certainly be a reward for the mission.
Following her advice, the man began to undress. Sha'ira turned away with aristocratic courtesy and walked to a strange structure in a corner of the room. At first, Shepard thought it looked like some sort of beauty treatment chair, one of the innovations of the modern fashion world. But it was simpler than that. With a wave of the azari's hand, the chair transformed into an elevated massage table. The lights dimmed slightly and became soft. A relaxing melody filled the room, like nymphs playing harps on the ocean.
