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Black and White	By : CyberII Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 8142 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Mass Effect or characters, writing for fun, but not profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Pt.1
- 2-Pt.2
- 3-Pt.3
- 4-Pt.4
- 5-Pt.5
- 6-Pt.6
- 7-Pt.7
- 8-Pt.8
- 9-Pt.9
- 10-Pt.10
- 11-Pt.11
- 12-Pt.12
- 13-Pt.13
- 1
- 2
They seem to share the 'black and white' vision, what if 'someone that young' could make Samara consider it won't hurt to feel young again for once. Started during his Archangel days; generally Garrus x Samara, hint of Garrus x Morinth (Chapter 7), Garrus x Aria. Content tags will be added once appeared.

It seemed like a rude joke heard from some batarian in docks – 'Where the mercs swear louder, there is Archangel' – wasn't that far from reality. She strolled graciously through a ruined warehouse, stepping over lead-fed corpses. Blood Pack, she recognized the local name of the gang by the armor markings. Archangel's people made a hell of a diversion here just a while ago – stench of explosives was still thick in the air. She headed to the half-collapsed further wall; that probably was the way they were retreating – she still picked up the sound of a distant firefight. Good, if she hurries, she still has a chance to encounter him.

There were dim-lit back alleys intercrossing behind the warehouse, ground stained with things she didn't really wanted to specify. Whole Omega was filthy like that, it distracted her a lot. Wiping that whole asteroid clean from its thick layer of filth was far beyond even her capabilities. But it was worth trying, and she felt like she wasn't the only one at this Goddess-forsaken station thinking that way. Mercs corpses were still warm here, the guerilla squad backed off just in time before some reinforcements arrived.

She stepped on the alley they still fought, gunfire resounded along with her heels clicking, her gait fearless. In a blink of an eye she noticed the convenient position of a diversion team – she couldn't make out their exact disposing, but they were well-hidden in the ruins of abandoned building. The outnumbering Blood Pack mercs were a nuisance though, storming through an archway towards their certain death. She smiled, noted well-placed explosives at the arch fundament.

She didn't slow her steps when the arch exploded, sending a cloud of smoke and concrete dust along the alley right in her face. She heard vorcha screaming and whining, krogans' unpleasant grunts, boulders scattering, some extra footsteps hurrying – another pack of mercenaries, might be? No one was aware of a single elegant figure approaching from behind though; battle rage took their full attention. She let a little smile appear on her lips, and then her hands sent a crushing biotic wave, mangling the bodies of unfortunates left alive by the explosion, grinding the living meat with armor into bloody mess.

Detonation charges set off just in time, archway collapsed burying those rushing through it. Not that his squad really couldn't stand against several extra vorcha – their operation was staged smooth and clear, but if they could leave with less pursue on their heels, why not using that opportunity. Visor picked quite a few thermal signals, frantically moving behind the dust veil, less than a single thermal clip worthy - and they will get away with another diversion free and easy. Perhaps the mercs grew soft and lazy here, with no laws to keep them on their toes, they weren't even trying to put up a little challenge.

A sudden powerful burst of blue caught him by surprise. Biotics? Blood Pack hardly worked with biotics, and he doubted the Eclipse came to the rescue. The gangs weren't generally open for cooperation, much less offering a helping hand to each other randomly. He made a sign to his squad to back off slowly, paused himself for a moment. Seemed like the biotic attack wiped out the rest of Blood Pack after them, but what it was supposed to mean? He wasn't counting on any unexpected ally, more like inter-gang clash, but that made no actual sense at the moment. If that actually was Eclipse, and they took a chance to teach the Blood Pack some manners, their choice of target was pretty desperate.

His sharp eyes picked a movement through his scope. An elegant figure gracefully jumped over an improvised barricade of collapsed archway. Landed on her feet and approached with a steadfast gait. Her – that was an asari, yet he didn't recognize her outfit. Her tight suit looked like a uniform of some sort, still not one of the mercs gangs he could think of, and definitely neither stripper, nor commando. Red with golden outlining, it hugged her slender frame like a glove, but her open cleavage revealed she's in her matriarch age. He was intrigued, if not more, but not enough to lower his guard.

An asari stopped right in front of the ruins they were keeping their position in. She wasn't like any other asari he ever met, she was something special, and even he sensed it. Her dignity of bearing, her cold yet gorgeous features – he never had a thing for asari, but that wasn't about the attraction. Her steps, her moves, her expression spoke of it – not nice, not cute, not pretty; nothing less than pure gorgeous.

She just stood there, in a perfect spot for their crosshairs, fearless. And then her calm voice sounded in the dusty air.

"I'm looking for someone."

She observed the ruins, waiting for the answer. And then a figure rose from behind of half-crumbled wall.

Angular blue and black heavy armor, polarized helmet visor - a turian, she noticed his lanky and slim frame. All turians were lanky and slim, but her trained by centuries eye picked the details. His majestic height, imposing posture, careless grace of small movement, as he lowered his sniper rifle; she was pretty sure that's a pure-blood Palaven-born in front of her; no colonies could teach a man to wear that imperial blue with such pride.

Mild, but confident voice, muffled by the helmet, spoke.

"Do we look like skiptracers, ma'am?"

A faint smile stirred her lips; she turned her face to the turian.

"I think I already found him."

He didn't like it, at all. Trying to look nonchalant, he put his arms behind his back, signaling the rest of his team to leave. The unfocused gaze of wide-open silvery eyes on him was disquieting, he felt like she's looking right through him, and his gesture wasn't left unnoticed.

"Mind you, we were just in a middle of a fight. Was it such a good idea to find us now?"

"I just handled it for you – can I have a few minutes of your time now?" the asari waved her hand gracefully at the direction of back alley. "It's not easy to find you when you're not causing ruffle."

He sighed. Persistent lady, maybe even more dangerous than he expected.

"I assume, you know who you're talking to…"

The asari smiled, scanning him with the same unblinking stare.

"Exactly. I have a… concern no one at this station could help me with. No one but you," she tilted her head, "I sense your suspicion and you earned the right to be mistrustful along with your name – but believe me, as a Justicar, my Code won't allow me to act treacherous."

He tapped his helmet, not sure of what he heard.

"A what? Sorry, seems like my translator glitched."

She cocked her head with a shadow of a sad smile.

"I am an asari Justicar. I swore an oath to fight the injustice."

He gave her a doubtful hum.

"Never heard of them."

"It's… understandable," she lowered her eyes to the ground, "There aren't many Justicars, our Code is unrelenting, which makes that path hard."

He sighed again. He wasn't such a big expert in asari culture anyway – and if that asari had an intention to trick him, strange stories and costumes weren't amongst the things which make people trust you immediately. She didn't look stupid or naïve to make it up and think he'd buy it.

"I believe, the full story will take a while," he assumed. "Why don't we move somewhere nicer and quieter to talk?"

He took her to the one of his favorite rooftops. Up here was only artificial breeze, making the stench of lower levels of the station bearable, flecks of neon lights from the ads and signboards, and quiet hum of Omega life down there.

There was another reason he liked this roof. The building had only a few directions to approach from, and there was a clear shot of any of them from above; the only way up there was a narrow staircase allowing no more than one person pass at a time – it was pretty easy to defend. And it was pretty easy to flee – for a well-trained turian. Heavy-footed krogans lacked the agility, vorcha weren't trained for a real hot chase, varrens were hard to drag to the roofs, humans hadn't enough stamina, and any salarian was smart enough to ditch a futile idea of catching a turian on feet. All he had to keep an eye on were his own people and asari commandoes; and for his visor, registering biotic fields, the blue ladies were glowing brighter than the club lights.

His helmet locks hissed, unclasping, he raised his hand to take the helmet off. Took in a deep breath of foul air. Braced himself against the perimeter railing, looking at the shimmering sea of lights down there.

"I'm listening."

She gave a glance around the place he led her to. She never knew Omega could have some nice spots. That was quite a view up here, and her companion visibly enjoyed it. She wondered if he comes here for something similar to her meditation.

He took off his helmet and placed it under the guard rail. Cobalt-blue markings caught her eye – she was right about Palaven.

She let herself admire him for a few moments. He was so young and handsome by turian standards; steel gray plates burnt out by the harsh sun of his homeworld to the clear metallic gleam, narrow face, tight stubborn set of mandibles, proud look of light blue eyes, so intense in the predatory-shaped velvet-black sockets. Some kind of custom visor over his left eye.

He bore a startling resemblance to someone she knew. Centuries ago.

"I'm listening," he leaned against the railing, half-turned his head to her.

She mimicked his pose.

"I came to Omega following my leads on tracking down a very dangerous… entity."

"What can I say – welcome to Omega!" the turian made a theatrical gesture. "Three out of each four living here are dangerous. Even I and you, I assume, aren't exceptions. Anyone particular on your mind?"

Her smile faded away, and there was unmistakable sorrow in her calm voice.

"The person I'm looking for – she's an Ardat-Yakshi."

"Come again? My translator's having a bad day, or you're overloading me with new words," he shook his long fringe.

She took in a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady and facial expression estranged.

"Ardat-Yakshi. That's a rather rare genetic… condition amongst the asari. You probably know of our melding ability?"

"Sure," he nodded, "Heard of, even observed it performed on others couple of times. No personal experience though," he added a bit awkwardly.

She couldn't help but smile inwardly on that small purity confession from him. She liked him more with each minute, even his acrid tone and stiffness couldn't trick her – she made the right choice talking to him.

"Ardat-Yakshi burn out the nervous system of a person they meld with. They can't control it, and no solution was ever found. Fortunately that condition is rather rare," she couldn't help, but lower her eyes to the city lights down the street, "And most of them are under control. In a monastery."

"Let me guess, but one of them broke loose?" he tilted his head, watching her intently with those bright piercing eyes.

"Yes," she nodded, "She's a sexual predator, addicted to death. She needs to be stopped."

She watched him shifting from foot to foot, clearing his throat.

" That looks like a big deal to me. You… look like someone who has the authority to, ah, ask Aria even for assistance – she's of your race, she must understand it better than I do. Am I wrong?"

"You're mostly right, the Justicars are respected… and feared in the asari space. Our methods are ruthless; we have a right to act brutal if needed. It… doesn't help in modern society, where are shades of gray everywhere opposed to our Code giving us a clear vision of black and white. And on Omega, where almost no one is clean…"

She turned away, unable to look at him, not sure if able to keep her cold emotionless expression anymore.

"Every second after my foot touched the surface of this vile station I feel like I'm being tortured. I can't sweep away every splat of filth on my way, and walking by I feel like betraying the Code – letting the injustice rule this place. It… doesn't help to concentrate on my primary goal…"

To her surprise she felt a cautious touch of gloved hand on her shoulder.

"Hey… I understand. I have no code to speak of, but I think it's quite similar for me," his soft flanging sounded unexpectedly sympathetic. "Actually I… don't know what to do with that gray, it's much easier to see the world in black and white. That's why I'm doing… what I'm doing. Or maybe this world doesn't deserve that gray vision to hide the dirty deeds behind it."

She turned around, and he jerked back his hand immediately.

"I'm glad I decided to find you."

He was more than a foot taller than her, the height difference seemed so perceptible when they were standing that close. He took a step back, retreating from her personal space or reclaiming his own. His visor gleamed cyan from above.

"Yeah," he replied curtly.

"In fact I talked to Aria already. Just after I arrived, she invited me to her club to… clarify my purposes. I understand her concern, having hard times restraining myself from starting a cleansing bloodshed on this asteroid… But she couldn't care less about the Ardat-Yakshi unless she picks Aria as a next victim."

"Quite illustratory of Aria. Her indifference and noninterference let all this lawlessness remain unpunished. So technically she's the lesser evil of this station," he remarked absentmindedly.

"Actually she gave me a very good advice, she probably was joking though. She told me to find you 'to bother'," the Justicar smiled bitterly.

The turian tensed immediately. Predatory eyes shot a glance over the streets down below.

"How many were tailing you after it?" his voice turned sharp, and even though he looked collected, his nervousness seeped out.

She allowed herself to throw her head up with a scornful glare.

"I'm a Justicar for 400 years. Another reason why there's not many Justicars out there are the mortality rates. Trust me, they weren't tailing me anymore shortly after I left the 'Afterlife'."

"I won't be me if I just take any 'trust me' on trust," he grumbled softly, fixing her with his intense eyes. "Too many people want my head as a trophy."

"Not Aria apparently," she replied nonchalantly, "She spoke of you skeptically, regarding your idealism, but with curiosity in general."

"Oh, I'm so relieved," his voice was clearly sardonic, "I have no idea what's worse, her anger or her interest."

He didn't like it, but it was something in this asari which made him believe her. Her unmistakable dignity. Her cold and proud stance.

"Fine," he stated, "I'll help you if you tell me how. Any leads you want to share?"

She gave him a most beautiful faint smile he ever got. That asari probably had her centuries of maiden life working on her charming skills; even now when the sorrow left a distinctive mark on her features, her frozen smile was lovely even for a turian. And he had no thing for asari in general…

"Actually, I need you to lure her out, - she started, - She's attracted to… special people. Artists, fighters, murderers, those with a spark in their soul, no matter if it's light or dark. You're… unique, she couldn't resist."

"Hey, she's a biotic, does it mean I should deal with her by my own?"

"No, of course not," the Justicar shook her head, "I'll be watching you. She knows I'm searching for her, that's why I can't reveal my presence on Omega – otherwise she'll flee and lay low for dozens of years once again."

"Uh-huh," he hummed, "But you have no accurate info on her at the moment, right?"

"Right," she admitted, "I need to figure out the places she frequents or something…"

"Good, because I might be busy for a week or so," he smirked, mandibles flaring. "Is there any way I can find you to update me on this case?"

"Sure," she turned on her omni-tool, "I found a room to stay, it's a rather quiet place, and you're welcome any time that's convenient for you."

He paused, a bit doubtful.

"So, see you then?"

"Yes," she answered. "Sorry, by the way, I didn't introduce myself properly. My name is Samara."

He looked at her, trying to figure out if she was up to draw something out of him.

"Garrus," he replied dryly. There was something about her majestic presence. He just had to introduce properly too.

He returned to their base with mixed feelings and sharpened-up paranoid suspiciousness.

"Do you know'er, Boss?"

No. That was reckless to leave with her.

"Sort of. All went smooth."

"Good, we were worrying."

Right. Any common sense should've stopped me.

"Nothing to worry about. She asked for help."

"What she wants us for?"

Not us.

"That'll be just me."

"Boss, are you sure?"

No.

"Yes. We'll do just fine."

"Will it affect the operations planned?"

I hope no.

"No. The Blood Pack will receive every damn thing we've got on our schedule for them."

Yes. That thing about asari…

"Run an extranet search for me. Try to find something about 'Ardat-Yakshi', a genetic defect of asari."

"Can you spell it, Boss?"

Ugh…
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Black and White