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The Justicar's Dog of War	By : Doirly_No Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 55026 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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An ancient religion that long since died out believed that every soul, even those many would consider evil, went to heaven upon death and that life’s purpose was merely to determine which they would ascend to. Those who practice murder, torture and sadism would find their way to a violent afterlife while their victims would often reach a purer, more innocent place. Each sent where they belong by interaction with the other. Two such heavens in this mythos were those of decadence and debauchery. A clever, though incomprehensible to those unversed in theology, history and dialect, pun on their names used as the true moniker of the station non-asari referred to as The Azure Sky.
That is how Samara explained it once Shepard had perked up enough to listen and once she actually saw the station she better understood the reference. A great disk, two miles in diameter and nearing a thousand years in age orbited the garden planet of Niacal. The side facing out into space was that of decadence; an artificial replication of a tropical islanded surrounded by a picturesque sea and populated by the perfect tourist town. The opposite side was that of debauchery; a dark metropolis reaching hundreds of stories toward the planet’s surface like the tendrils of a jellyfish.
For centuries the station had catered exclusively to the asari, in fact the only way for any other species to board was to be a bondmate or employee, making it one of the few places in the galaxy that didn’t have a single maiden stripping in its clubs. And there were plenty of clubs. The Azure Sky services focused on the adult desires of its clientele as well as a wide range of entertainment and distractions for when a break from the adult desires was required. All of which was needed after such a horrific war.
With the end of the Reaper invasion the station had received a boon in business as most wanted to both forget the horrors and celebrate their survival. Not only was there an influx of visitors, but there was also an influx of new employees as refugees sought out a safe, well-paying place to work. The fresh blood in turn increased the quality of service provided as a wider range of tastes could be accommodated; such as the healthy number of female krogan migrating off Tuchanka to build lives for themselves. It also allowed those directly serving the customers more vacation and off time so they were better rested and more enthusiastic in their duties.
After her owner dissuaded her fears over Kelly’s safety, Shepard was able to build enough enthusiasm to be downright giddy as she stepped off the shuttle onto the station that her imagination had built into the gateway to heaven. So her less than perfect first impression was rather deflating as it was just a nondescript corridor they were ushered down by an automated message playing over speakers. At least a drone took their luggage before she had to haul it more than a yard. They kept only a single tote bag, which she slung over a shoulder as the rest would be sent ahead to their accommodations.
Samara’s low-heeled pumps clicked down the corridor; Shepard’s sneakers tapping a few steps behind. On approach to the station they had forwarded the false identities of a couple celebrating their fifth anniversary, along with the proper banking information to get them an unlimited line of credit. Their cover needn’t be complex as few questions would be asked of them in that regard. Though they still had to look the part of a wealthy matriarch and her young, pampered bondmate on vacation.
It took some negotiating between them on what the wardrobe selections would be, especially in the case of Shepard. She wanted something modest and comfortable, using the excuse that they should remain incognito while her owner wanted something far more scandalous, mainly to make the woman blush. They compromised on cargo shorts that hung very low on the hips, a v-necked crop top and a push-up bra that put her cleavage on full display. Then when Samara’s outfit came up and a miniskirt was suggested, the incognito excuse was thrown back in the human’s face. The discussion ended quickly and the matriarch chose a belted shirtdress with an asari-style hat that resembled an ascot. Both wore stylish shades and a tasteful amount of jewelry to reflect their upper class status. Since they would be in the same place awhile the former commander decided she needed further cover and dyed her hair a dark purple; few aliens using more than the odd strains sprouting from a human’s head to differentiate individuals.
At the end of the hall was a lobby, the far wall lined with partitioned help desks, a smiling asari behind each and a customer or two in front of several. Paradise apparently had a duller check-in than most motels, but once they took a seat Shepard felt more like she’d walked into the physical embodiment of a EULA. Once the pleasantries were dispatched with they were assaulted by a flood of terms, conditions and restrictions. Each and every one of them had to be vocally accepted and confirmed understood. The odder ones that caught her attention involved: the age restrictions, varying from two years for vorcha to ninety for asari; the firewalls that would limit the functionality of their omni-tools, after all what happens in The Azure Sky stays in The Azure Sky; the constant surveillance that would ensure the safety employees and visitors alike; a complete banning of ‘actual’ slavery and indentured servitude; how much the definition of indecency and consent varied from area to area; and the big one, that only asari and their bondmates may enter. A thousand year long sterling record made it easy to put a signature on the form present to them.
What finally unglazed Shepard’s eyes was when their agent, Faina said, “Alright, now let’s get to the fun part.”
“I have one question before we do,” Shepard had a bit of curiosity she wished sated before the tone lightened completely. “How did this station survive the war?”
“It was actually not as complicated as you would think. We simply moved the station into a low orbit around Egalic and completely cut off communications. Of course it also took an extreme amount of luck. The resistance on Niacal distracted the Reapers enough that they never committed forces to attacking the paltry infrastructure around Egalic and the war ended before they got a chance to come after us.” Faina’s chest then swelled with pride when she added, “Before we moved though we were able to evacuate civilians from four colonies which allowed the soldiers and militia from those colonies to fight that much harder since they didn’t have to feed or protect them. Oh, speaking of which. Five percent of all purchases will be donated to varying war-relief charities.”
“Well then we will have to spend a lot,” Samara smiled.
“Fantastic!” the maiden who earned commission responded. “So, now that you’ve agreed to everything… By the goddess, I see you qualify for an unlimited line of credit. Did you fill out the extranet survey?”
“Why don’t you already know? Shouldn’t that be part of the reservations?” the curious woman asked.
“We don’t actually take reservations. Keeping track of such things would be a waste of resources as well as an added security risk. Our guests’ privacy is of the utmost concern to us.” Faina then went back to the original question, “So did you fill out the extranet survey?”
Shepard sat back, knowing her owner would be making all the decisions, which started with Samara typing on her omni-tool. “Yes, here you go.”
The agent started confirming, “You want all access passes… a skycar… human and asari food stocked, of course… Oh, you seemed to have left length of stay blank.”
“I wish to stay for as long as possible, but business could call me away at any time.”
“That’s fine. We have visitors save for decades to come here and stay until the credits run out. So it isn’t uncommon. I’ll just check indefinite.” Faina put her head back down. “You want a cottage on the beach… in the female only section. I’ll mark down all the other women’s only areas and establishments that cater strictly to women… You don’t want a live in servant?”
“Correct.”
“Aww,” Shepard whined.
“Are you sure? One isn’t that much more expensive in comparison to everything else you’ve selected,” the maiden tried to sell.
“No, we will do without,” Samara said firmly.
“Alright, then that should do it. Thank you so much for visiting us and I hope you enjoy your stay.” Faina pointed to the door off to her left, “Just go through there and a car will take you to your accommodations. Though, I would suggest having it take you to the hub town. It’s a pleasant walk and you’ll be able to get a better sense of the area.”
“I believe we will. Thank you.”
With that and a few more pleasantries the couple departed through the only door out and as soon as they were alone Shepard dwelled, “Are you sure you don’t want a servant girl?”
“Why would I? I have you,” Samara answered, their car jolting around them as it started moving.
“Wouldn’t it be more fun to have two though?” the woman tried again with a seductive whisper, pressing into her owner’s side. “Having a couple of adoring pets dressed in the skimpiest of clothes fighting over who gets to pleasure you.”
“Must I remind you why we are here?” The matriarch slipped a hand to the small of her pet’s back. “Perhaps if we locate Ms Chambers quickly we will try one out.”
“I hope she’s alright,” Shepard immediately grew sullen.
Samara tightened her hold to guide their lips together, “She is. She survived the Collector base; she survived the Cerberus attack; she survived the Reaper’s abduction of the Citadel. I am sure she can survive a space station of amorous asari.”
“I don’t like the idea she’s been forced to work a pole or worst, whore herself out.” Her angst briefly interrupted by the sunlight streaming through the opening door.
“There are plenty of other occupations on a station this size, but even if she is, sex workers are not of such lowly standing in asari culture.” With one more peck and a pat on the bum Samara said, “Try to put it out of your mind for now.”
Shepard gave a sharp nod, determined to follow the advice and left the featureless car. It took only a single step outside for her to believe it possible. At the bottom of a stairwell she couldn’t see anything besides a shockingly-blue, artificial sky, but she didn’t need to for her spirits to lift. Laughter poured down over the walls trailed closely by a concoction of delicious scents that somehow perfectly mixed together. Once her head got above street level she could see the origins of the smells and sounds of joy.
They had been sent to the nearest public station to their accommodations which put them in the middle of a two story walking mall populated by every sort of eatery one could imagine and shops ranging from niche boutiques to slightly cheesy, tourist traps. Yet somehow the tacky little store selling postcards didn’t look out of place next to the high end tailor next door. What really lifted her mood though were all the smiling faces. Three out of four were some shade of blue, but every gender and every appeared represented.
It was immediately apparent how laidback and loose everyone was. Embarrassment and secrecy were pointless, there was only one reason to be there and they all knew it. Flirting and leering was nonexistent as there were far better places on the station to do both and single persons were in the minority; the rare asari who ventured out on vacation alone or the fairly common party on a group deal. The majority of visitors though were couples; couples who were extremely confident in their relationship and happy, some downright grateful, to be there with their significant other.
Shepard just didn’t know where to put her attention first and stood dumbly in the middle of the street for a full minute before her owner stepped in front of her. She was then shocked back to reality when Samara grabbed her belt buckle. Strong fingers buried in the back of her fly, blue knuckles brushed the crotch of her panties as she was tugged into a solid kiss.
“Are you feeling better?”
“How can I not with your hand in my pants?”
“Even while we are out in public?”
The hairs on the back of Shepard’s neck stood up and her cheeks burned as she became aware of the errant eyes turning their way. “Umm… I dunno… I guess…”
Having gotten the reaction she wanted Samara let her sputtering pet off the hook and said, “Come, we should find our cottage.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the woman whispered.
The walking mall lasted only a few blocks and once they left its cheery charm the surroundings grew increasingly less family friendly. The peaks of the coasters from the amusement park and slides from the water park rising over the buildings were misleading. Mannequins dressed in elaborate lingerie for every species both male and female lined display windows. Shepard’s chest swelling with sarcastic pride when she noticed human designers lead the underwear fashion industry and other places with something else when she spotted a shop specializing in edible clothing.
“Want to do a little shopping?” Shepard ventured.
Samara’s followed her human’s drooling stare and was honestly tempted, but, “We will have time for that later. We should settle into our accommodations first.”
“Fine.” The woman pouted her way down the street until they came to an area full of spas, hot springs and public baths, but one in particular got her to ask, “What do you suppose a salarian grooming pool is?”
After studying the establishment in question a moment the matriarch answered, “You wade in milky water enriched with minerals while submerged salarian attendants wash and massage you.”
Shepard commented as they continued on, “Can’t imagine many salarians are on this station.”
“You may be surprised. As long as breeding agreements aren’t broken salarians usually do not consider their bondmates having intercourse with other partners as cheating. Many salarians also find the sexual practices of other species fascinating and may even enjoy watching.”
“Sounds like you have experience,” a hint of insecurity in her voice, self-conscious about how Samara accounted for half her relationships while she only constituted just over a percent of the millennia old asari’s.
“Not directly,” the elder alien recognized the concern in her love’s voice, but knew only time together could cure it. “I have had several friends who had salarian bondmates. Also there is a not uncommon fetish amongst asari of seducing members of asexual species or ones that do not find us attractive usually.”
To continue her education Shepard then asked about another sign she spotted, “What does Four Rows Deep mean?”
Samara looked to the neon sign of a club at the end of a nearby alley, “It is a euphemism krogan use when two males have sex.”
“Why would there be a gay bar on the station?”
“It is most likely a strip club; plenty of asari enjoy watching two males together.”
A few minutes later Shepard suddenly spouted, “I love this place and I haven’t even taken my pants off yet.”
Samara laughed openly before lifting her arm as an invitation. It took only a heartbeat before her companion scooted in and under. Her hand naturally slipped to a hip, teasing fingertips finding their way beneath the waistband of Shepard’s shorts. A peck to the lips and the pair happily walked to their beachfront cottage linked together.
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The Justicar's Dog of War