Story Arc: Welcome to the Normandy SR-2
Episode 1: Jane Shepard's First Contact (V)
Chapter 5: The Demon of the Night
XXX
POV Narrator
The main hangar of YNSF Renai AB-3 looked like a hybrid between a steel cathedral and a state-of-the-art factory.
It was a vast mechanical belly where millimetric order and efficiency are the priorities, a reflection of the personalities of its Captain.
Amelia Blight had designed this space and the rest of the Starship to accommodate every facet of her nature.
As a pilot and officer, he demanded an autonomous vessel, capable of navigating the void for long periods without the support of the Voidwalker Fleet.
As a scientist and engineer, she had made the hangar a multifunctional place: space for every bulky study specimen, spare parts ready for any breakdown, and an area dedicated to the creation of new machinery or improvised modifications.
As soon as you crossed the threshold, your gaze was captured by the geometric rows of freight crates, stacked with surgical precision and secured by magnetic hooks to defy any inertial turbulence.
Looking up at the ceiling, one could see the thirty Droid Starfighters: in compact mode, they hung from the racks like ebony bats, ready to be awakened by orders from Amelia or by ADELA, the Starship's artificial intelligence.
The left sector of the hangar was a sanctuary for the three personal light interceptors, the only aircraft intended for the flesh-and-blood crew members: Bruce, Mash, and Amelia herself.
On the opposite side, heavy firepower dominated the scene with two LAATs (Low Altitude Assault Transports).
The first, in the commando black and gold hues, was designed for the rapid transport of troops and supplies; the second, a menacing black and red hull, served as guardian for the AT-TE (Terrain Tactical Enforcer), nicknamed "Rock," an armored behemoth with superior performance to the standard model.
Guarding this arsenal, fifty Pawns, light-class battle droids, patrolled the area with fluid, silent movements.
Captain Amelia and Rogue Trader Militant Bruce stand in front of the yellow and black LAAT, its statistics are: Length 18 meters, Width 17 meters, Height/Depth 7 meters.
It features an elongated body with two downward-sloping wings that house repulsor engines and remote-controlled spherical turrets.
Like all models in its class, the vehicle featured a large central compartment with sliding side doors, capable of carrying up to thirty soldiers. Armament included two forward-firing laser cannons, composite turrets on the wings, and mass-guided missile launchers on top.
Having to board the Normandy SR-2 for a meeting of historical and diplomatic significance, Amelia did her best to adhere to protocol guidelines.
This involved a change of clothes or, better to say, an addition: he added to his outfit a regulation jacket, a cap and a cape, thus completing the formal profile required by the occasion.
His tight-fitting black and yellow spacesuit remained unchanged.
Over it, Amelia had added a cropped military jacket with the signature purple sheen of a Voidwalker; the cut fit her imposing figure, while the neon bars on her shoulders pulsed with a steady light, declaring her rank in the Astra Navis.
The black and purple cap bore the insignia of a one-eyed dragon, which seemed to glare at anyone who dared to meet its gaze.
Over his left shoulder hung a heavy red cape of fine cloth, upon which shone a golden symbol of a gear fused to a nine-pointed star.
That cape was no mere ornament: it was Amelia's banner as Lady High Scientist of Mechanicus and signaled her membership in the High Table, the Fleet's High Command.
At Amelia's side was her Lord Trader Militant, Bruce Bel Bahamut Belmont, better known as Traveler, the name he preferred to use in dealings with foreigners.
Much to Amelia and Mash's chagrin, Bruce had ditched his usual, overly revealing one-piece suit for a skin-tight black and lavender spacesuit.
Protocol dictated that not a millimeter of skin be shown: a necessary choice to maintain an air of dignity (and to avoid some alien woman falling in love with him, as had unfortunately happened in the past).
Despite the suit's sobriety, Bruce had enriched his appearance with ceremonial and tactical elements.
Instead of a coat, she wore a white stole with gold snowflake details, a symbol of benevolence in Ysatnaf culture.
On his head, a silver 'M'-shaped headpiece fit perfectly over his natural horns, while drop-shaped purple diamonds with mysterious properties hung from his ears.
Prestige and technology merged in his accessories: his right hand displayed three silver rings bearing the insignia of his titles, while his left bore five nanotechnological circles engraved with integrated circuits.
On his feet he wore metallic black magitech boots with neon inserts, coordinated with a silver multifunctional belt.
Around her neck, a gold medallion with a serpentine 'S' set in a sparkling green stone caught the eye.
In his hands, Traveler clutched his weapon of choice: a 42-inch staff, half black ebony and half purple mechanical wood.
The silver hilt, shaped like a raven's head with amethyst eyes, exuded a deadly elegance. Beside it, a small chest inlaid with snow patterns held the gifts of peace ready for the Normandy's crew.
"I feel like we're being a little too friendly," Traveler commented, his fingers brushing the fabric of her stole.
The Rogue Trader Militant had no prejudice against shawls, stoles, or other ceremonial garments, even those of a feminine nature; after all, he practiced the art of disguise for both personal pleasure and tactical advantage. He simply would have preferred his usual coats when faced with unfamiliar conditions.
Fortunately, Amelia didn't have to deal with the Lord Trader's bad moods alone: just then Mash appeared.
Unlike her companions, the lavender-haired beauty wore no thin spacesuit, but rather heavy armor in shades of black and purple.
That exoskeleton made her look like a medieval knight projected into the future, or perhaps like a highly advanced cybernetic creature; her face was completely hidden by a full-face helmet.
In his arms he clutched a massive, high-tech metal shield in the shape of a cross, a multifunctional module ready to react to any threat.
That armor served a dual purpose: Mash was there as their bodyguard, but it was also necessary to hide his features.
As the only human in the group, it would have been too complicated to explain to the Normandy crew why the Renai AB-3 had a member of their own species among its ranks; better to leave them in the dark, because explaining the existence of parallel dimensions leads to so many problems.
"Senpai, I think Amelia did a great job," Mash chimed in. Her voice, coming from the helmet, was slightly distorted but clearly female.
Her voice, filtered through the helmet's communication systems, came through with a slight metallic distortion that accentuated its artificial nature, while still maintaining a clearly feminine and reassuring note.
The Rogue Trader didn't take his gaze from Amelia, but one corner of his mouth quirked in agreement.
"If I hadn't pushed for a face-to-face meeting, we'd still be arguing for hours. You two love to be friendly and resolve everything with smiles and a shake of your hand. I have nothing against it, let's be clear: less waste of resources and, above all, less waste of my time." Bruce confirmed, as always, that he was on a wavelength all his own.
Amelia chuckled softly, adjusting her red Mechanicus cloak with a solemn gesture.
"Bruce's intervention was to our benefit. Everything is going well," Amelia concluded, displaying an infectious positivity for what many would have considered a dangerous encounter.
"We're about to have a diplomatic meeting with this variant of humanity; I hope to understand what Earth has been up to in this reality." Mash observed, his voice tinged with wistful curiosity.
The female knight was always fascinated by the fate of her native people, despite having spent almost her entire life away from the planet to follow her beloved Senpai.
Bruce shook his head, his amethyst tail twitching slightly impatiently.
"Girls, I remind you that the goal is not to establish long-term business relationships." Traveler intervened, wanting a brief and uneventful meeting.
"We just need to make a good first impression, introduce the Voidwalker Fleet, deliver the symbolic gifts, and ask for a copy of their star maps." The Rogue Trader Militant tried to convince himself, wanting a brief, sterile meeting without any unexpected incidents.
Amelia and Mash exchanged a look: they clearly didn't believe things would go the way their beloved Lord Trader had hoped.
"Senpai, I don't think it'll be that simple." Mash retorted, tightening her grip on her cross-shaped shield.
"Humans have a knack for attracting trouble, and you are no different. You and a ship full of humans... I fear heated arguments or discoveries that will force us to act." She remembered the time an encounter with a damaged ship dragged the Fleet into an alien conflict that had nothing to do with them.
"What do you always say, Bruce? There's no such thing as chance." Amelia concluded, using the Lord Trader's words against him.
"I had a vision, and the journey has brought us here. The universe wants this meeting: I will grant it, but I will decide how it ends," the Traveler declared.
To emphasize the point, he slammed the stick on the LAAT's deck with enough force to slightly crack the reinforced metal.
Amelia stared at him seriously, her emerald eyes showing no trace of amusement.
"Don't turn this into a prelude to one of your cosmic challenges," Amelia warned him seriously.
"It's a peaceful meeting between unknown factions, not a demonstration to the powers above that you're a rebel ready to set the sky ablaze." Amelia wasn't exaggerating: she knew that when the Rogue Trader felt manipulated, his fury could literally set a planet's atmosphere ablaze.
"Senpai, pretend you're at one of your consultations." suggested Mash, an expert in the art of managing her Master.
The Rogue Trader Militant turned to Mash, wanting to hear the words of the woman who bears the title of his Shield.
"Observe, learn, and whisper your advice to Amelia." Mash continued, using that calm tone that only she could afford with him.
Bruce looked at the two women before him, two of the many pillars of his life.
To her left was Amelia, her lab partner from her days at Ars Magus Academy; together they had literally shaped the foundations of Magitech and Technomagic, making spaceflight possible.
To his right was Mash. She had been his third best friend before eventually becoming his lover; a development Bruce had initially found bizarre, but ultimately made him happy. Mash was one of only two people in the world who could call herself his "Shield," a traveling companion whose loyalty had been tempered by the fire of countless adventures.
"For your sake and out of duty to the Fleet, I will do my best." Traveler finally conceded, though his tone betrayed his somber mood.
"I wouldn't ask for anything else." Amelia replied, knowing it was the best compromise possible.
"But if they make one misstep," Bruce added, his reptilian pupil glowing with an ominous light, "if they point their guns at you or start blathering about prophecies and apocalyptic threats... then they'll see my worst side."
"Let's hope that doesn't happen." Mash whispered to himself. Beneath his helmet, his concern was whether he might have to physically intervene to restrain his Senpai.
She knew well that when the Lord Trader was in a truly foul mood, preventing him from committing some folly was a task that only she, her Shield, could hope to accomplish.
The Rogue Trader Militant was the first to cross the threshold of the yellow and black transport, closely followed by Amelia and Mash.
As ADELA's automated system took control, the LAAT's hatch closed with a hydraulic hiss, sealing them in a moment of privacy before their meeting with Elysium's Hero, Jane Katarina Shepard.
In the silence of the cargo bay, broken only by the hum of the repulsor engines, Amelia secured herself to one of the hooks on the ceiling. She momentarily shed her Lady High Scientist of Mechanicus and Captain of the Renai AB-3 persona to ask a decidedly less professional question: "If we do a good job... will I get a reward?"
Rogue Trader Militant was the first to board the yellow and black transport, followed by Amelia and Mash.
The automatic system immediately activated to direct them towards the Normandy SR-2.
Bruce turned to her, a mischievous smile lighting up his androgynous face.
"Isn't good work a reward in itself?" Traveler retorted with a mischievous smile, seizing the opportunity to tease her.
Amelia looked away, the tips of her ears betraying a slight blush.
"It is... but it never hurts to get some extra stimulation." Amelia replied, the blush on her cheeks growing even deeper.
Despite her boundless genius and preternatural talent for "mastering" machinery, Amelia was anything but a "poker-faced" woman.
She didn't have iron grip on her emotions: her heart was an open book, especially to those who knew her well.
Traveler took a step forward, with that mischievous smile he reserved only for the most intimate moments.
"You're a special woman, Amelia. The brightest mind in USKY, the best pilot I know, mother of our five daughters... and yet you still blush like a schoolgirl," Bruce murmured, with the tone of a predator lingering in play with his prey.
In a fluid, hypnotic motion, the Rogue Trader Militant spread its four wings, converging around them.
That cocoon of shadow isolated them from the rest of the space, partially excluding Mash and creating a micro-universe where only the two of them existed, while the hum of the LAAT seemed to fade into the background.
Bruce's amethyst tail wrapped itself with studied delicacy around Amelia's long left leg. Then, activating his telekinesis to even out the height difference, the Rogue Trader lifted off the ground in a fluid, supernatural motion.
Now they were finally face to face.
Bruce placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close with a firm pressure, while his tail, following the movement of their bodies, slid mischievously towards her inner thigh, claiming an intimacy that only they could share in that cocoon of wings.
"My dear overgrown bookworm... what does he want from the bad boy from out of town?" Bruce whispered. He loved to tease the women he knew intimately, especially those of purer nature like Amelia, enjoying their reaction to his brazen ways.
From the other side of her wings, Mash felt a twinge of jealousy nipping at her chest.
'For once, I hate being a knight in armor.' Mash thought, nervously gripping the edge of his heavy shield.
Beneath his full helmet, he struggled with conflicting emotions: he both loved and hated his Master's games.
This deep, soulful reflection by Mash paints a perfect portrait of her conflict between duty and desire. Her role as "Shield" isn't just a protection for Bruce, but at times becomes an emotional prison that prevents her from experiencing Amelia's vulnerability.
'Senpai can't target me if he can't see my face.' Mash thought, touching the cool surface of his helmet as he watched the "night demon" delight in his victim's blush.
The knightly woman couldn't quell that pang of jealousy, torn between the desire to be in Amelia's place and the fear of losing her composure.
Mash knew how persuasive and dominant Bruce could be; it was a vulnerability she both loved and feared.
As his "Shield", duty required her to be firm, to know how to say no and to curb his every folly.
Yet, as a woman, she longed to be treated as such: not as a knight behind impenetrable metal, nor as a reliable assistant or a dear friend, but as the object of her most overwhelming desire.
"If he were always this active, I'd be completely in his power." Mash concluded to himself, shaking his helmet roughly to chase away those thoughts and regain the focus needed for the mission.
Amelia looked Bruce straight in the eyes, with a desire that shone brighter than the precious gems that adorned her body.
"I'd love to have a sixth child... of flesh and blood," Amelia admitted in a soft voice.
The Lady High Scientist of Mechanicus had been precise: despite having given birth to countless artificial "children" in the form of Artificial Intelligences, starships or Mecha, the call of biology had returned.
Bruce gave her such a sweet smile that Amelia's heart seemed to melt. For a moment, she feared that the old adolescent urge to faint from emotion might overwhelm her again.
"Maybe, with a little luck, we'll have a boy this time," she added, her voice filled with an ancient passion.
Almost five hundred and fifty years had passed since their first meeting in the library, and since her first, legendary fainting fit, yet the strength of that feeling had not changed.
"My first and last love." Amelia repeated to herself. They were words she'd said to herself for centuries, and each time she felt them more true.
"Didn't we just have one?" Traveler muttered, pushing Amelia firmly against the wall of the transport.
At the contact with the metal, Amelia let out a small moan that only accentuated her blush.
Trying to find some sense of logic despite Bruce's proximity, she reminded him breathlessly, "The youngest is already fifty years old... and I didn't give birth to him, but Mash."
'I've only had two, with extreme difficulty and centuries apart, while you've had five almost in a row.' Mash thought with a hint of unusual pettiness.
Immediately after, she hung her head, disappointed in herself for having given in to such thoughts.
It was a cruel contradiction, especially since he had raised Amelia's children as his own, and Amelia had done the same with hers.
Yet fate had its ways of balancing things: Berenice, Amelia's third child, had become more deeply attached to Mash than to her biological mother, being the less apt for academic study but the more inclined to chivalry and the art of war.
"Since when does it matter who's carrying it? The baby belongs to all of us." Bruce cut him off, using his wings as extra arms to wrap his arms tightly around Amelia's waist.
Both women nodded: in Ysatnaf culture, where the gender ratio was heavily skewed in favor of women, polygamy and shared parenting were the norm.
For the Witches of the Black Cabal and the rest of their inner circle, love wasn't a two-person game: they found comfort in each other when Bruce, Mash, or Amelia were away.
Only when they were all together did they feel truly complete, but the constant presence of at least three members made the burden of separation and long star journeys bearable.
"But I'd like more... I might be going through menopause soon." Amelia insisted.
The Lady High Scientist was resorting to one of her half-truths, the only way she knew to lie without giving herself away.
She knew well that her biology and her precious blood, supported by current magic/science, would guarantee her fertility for another two millennia, but her desire for a sixth child cannot wait much longer.
"Senpai, you should fulfill Amelia's wish." Mash intervened, feeling her heart lighten.
The thought of holding a little creature in my arms again was a wonderful thought, a magic that never faded; no matter who the biological mother was, she would still be one of his mothers.
"That would be an interesting long-term side project," the "night demon" commented, taking Amelia's face in his hands to lose himself in the beauty of her green eyes and the sparkle of her desire.
"Who knows what will arise from our union this time?" Traveler asked, his tongue lingering on his lips in a deliberately provocative gesture.
Under that touch and that promise, Amelia's face burned and a small, stifled moan escaped her lips.
'Amelia has always been a loud woman,' Mash thought, feeling her face heat up under her helmet.
She felt inadequate in standing by; according to their household rules, at times like this, she should either step away or actively participate, but the circumstances were less than ideal.
"The Voidwalker Commonwealth will need an heir, as will my position as Rogue Trader Militant." Traveler declared, finally finding a logical justification to counter Amelia's wish.
"You mean that…" Amelia couldn't finish the sentence, her heart pounding with emotion.
But before she could say anything else, Bruce pinned her against the wall.
With a sudden, feral movement, he sank his teeth into her neck, tightening his grip on her body with a force that brooked no reply, branding her with a possession that was both a promise and a command.
"Senpai likes to bite." Mash commented with a hint of jealousy, instinctively bringing a hand to her neck.
Moments later, Bruce stepped away with the same cold precision with which he had approached.
Amelia slowly slid down, ending up sitting on the floor of the transport; she remained there, panting and staring blankly, letting her back find relief against the cold metal of the wall.
"If the Normandy SR-2 hadn't been so close..." Amelia thought with a mixture of longing and frustration. It was a sentiment Mash, even in his armored silence, shared word for word.
The Rogue Trader Militant, meanwhile, was already back to full composure.
Standing, with the calm air and authority of someone who had in no way violated diplomatic protocol, he adjusted his white stole with a meticulous gesture and took up his staff again, ready for the meeting.
'If Senpai didn't have the sexual urges of a rock and wasn't so passive in his romantic life, he would have destroyed us all by now,' thought Mash, feeling more than ever like a prisoner of love under the weight of her own armor.
"I sense your jealousy, Mash. Your body language needs some polishing." The Traveler commented, shifting his good eye to the female knight.
"I'm not jealous and I don't want anything," Mash retorted, uttering what was, without a doubt, one of the most egregious lies in recorded history.
Bruce's response was a swift, precise swipe of his tail, aimed squarely at Mash's ass, causing her to instinctively leap toward him. In an instant, the distance between the bodyguard and his Master narrowed, bringing the cold metal of the armor almost to the surface of her uniform.
The Rogue Trader captured her in the cocoon of his wings, pressing her head against his shoulder, while his tail wrapped, at once menacing and sensual, around the neck of the armor.
"I'm possessive, complicated, and flawed, but I also have my strengths: I don't play favorites." Bruce whispered. With a slow gesture, he ran a hand over Mash's armored chest, carving a barely perceptible scratch into the metal with his fingernail, as if to seal his ownership even over that impregnable barrier.
"Let's finish this job with the humans. Once we get back to the Renai, I'll tear your armor apart, piece by piece, until you're completely unprotected." A second scratch, clean and deliberate, marked the throat of Mash's armor.
Then, Bruce turned his gaze to the witch still on the ground, his purple eye leaving no escape.
"I'll do the same to you, Amelia. You'll both have your carnal reward; then, we'll move on to something more enjoyable than simply satisfying reproductive urges," Traveler commented, showing no trace of shame.
"You're a shameless, shameless man," Mash commented, his voice filled with anger that struggled to hide his desire.
"Old news, always have been." He concluded, retracting his wings and tail with the speed of thought. The chest of gifts began to float gently beside him, supported by his telekinesis.
"Amelia, get up. I only gave you a bite, not a night of primal love. You're a grown woman, not a child: stand up." Traveler said in an authoritative voice.
A sharp flick of his tail on Amelia's foot brought her out of her trance.
The witch let out a groan, leaping to her feet and adjusting her red cloak with still-trembling fingers; she turned her back on Bruce, desperately trying to regain some shred of official composure.
"I've spoiled you too much." The Traveler muttered, almost bored by his own effectiveness in disarming his companions.
"Sixty seconds to docking." ADELA's childish voice announced, echoing through the transport compartment.
At that signal, the atmosphere changed dramatically.
Bruce squared his shoulders, the trunk of gifts floating silently beside him like a satellite caught in its personal orbit.
Mash planted himself firmly on his feet, shield clutched to his chest and helmet fixed on the exit, while Amelia, with a final deep breath, tried to stifle the racing heart beneath the fine fabric of her red cloak.
"Please, Bruce, do your best," Amelia murmured, her voice soft and still slightly embarrassed.
"Remember, Senpai: act as if you were just Amelia's advisor," Mash added, wanting to make sure he didn't do anything diplomatically crazy.
"I'll do my best. But after I've satisfied you here and in the Captain's Cabin, you'll have to do something I desire. Remember: give and take." Traveler replied, closing his good eye for a moment as he mentally prepared himself.
"If it helps you feel good, yes, I promise, Senpai." Mash agreed, not realizing the extent of that commitment.
"I promise too. I want this First Contact to be perfect." Amelia confirmed, completely forgetting how dangerous negotiating with him might be.
A Rogue Trader is not just a soldier or a scout, but a diplomat and a ruthless negotiator.
Bruce Bel Bahamut Belmont had built his empire not with sword and sorcery alone, but with a mind capable of always getting what he wanted, a bewitching silver tongue, and a dark charisma that was impossible to escape.
XXX
The atmosphere in the Normandy SR-2's hangar was a mixture of tension and curiosity. Encountering a new alien race wasn't something that happened every day, and the silence was broken only by the whir of the LAAT's engines fading.
Every gaze was fixed on the door, every breath held; everyone could feel the weight of a first contact that could change everything.
As the yellow and black LAAT completed its parking maneuvers with impeccable magnetic precision, Kat Shepard, the Normandy's commander and the mission's tactical leader, awaited it. To her right was Miranda, and to her left was Jacob. Also nearby were Dr. Chakwas and Kelly Chambers.
Kat had carefully chosen the welcoming committee, including the most reliable and friendly faces. Miranda Lawson was there out of hierarchical obligation; as for Jacob, while not a 100% sure choice, he was still the best option among the many available.
"I've heard a lot of stories, but it's true that it's never boring with Kat Shepard around," Jacob Taylor commented, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Even as a former Marine accustomed to the antics of the Terminus Sector, the craft resembled nothing in Alliance or Cerberus records; its lines were too clean, its energy too quiet.
Karin Chakwas adjusted her gown, her expert medical gaze already fixed on the ramp that was about to lower.
"Wouldn't it have been better to add a couple of men to the welcoming committee?" Dr. Chakwas asked pragmatically, keeping standard diplomatic dynamics in mind.
"Could it be a good thing or a bad thing that Jacob is the only male here?" Kat asked, realizing the gender imbalance in her reception team. With everything going on, projecting a sexist or unprofessional image was the last thing on her mind.
Miranda presents her theories with her usual analytical coolness: "The captain of Renai AB-3 is Amelia, a woman with several degrees. She didn't seem at all surprised to see two women in command of the Normandy; this suggests that theirs is a matriarchal society, or that gender is completely irrelevant to them."
"Their shuttle is well designed, it would be very useful for landing troops, but the color reminds me of a bee." Jacob commented, eyeing the yellow and black fuselage of the craft critically.
Kelly Chambers, always on the bright side, smiled with her usual vivacity.
"Black and yellow are a great color combination, and bees are fascinating creatures," Kelly concluded.
The moment the hatch opened sideways, the tension skyrocketed.
Kat Shepard felt a hollowness in her side: in a moment like this, she wished she had Liara's wisdom, Tali's technical expertise, or Garrus's reassuring aim. Even Wrex's raspy laugh would have been preferable to that silence filled with uncertainty.
The first to emerge was Mash, advancing with her cross-shield raised as if expecting to be greeted by a rain of fire.
Scanning every corner with surgical precision, to the right, left, above, and below her, she finally moved sideways to open the passage, holding her shield steady with one hand. The aura she exuded was that of an impeccable guard dog or a fiercely dutiful knight.
'Well trained... that's a sign they're taking this thing seriously.' Kat Shepard thought, observing Mash's pinpoint precision.
The red-haired woman was completely unaware that the interior of the LAAT could be transformed into the equivalent of a mobile love hotel, if only the journey between the two Starships had lasted a few minutes longer.
"I don't see any firearms on her," Miranda commented under her breath, her eyes searching in vain for holsters or melta guns.
All he could make out was heavy armor, armored far beyond known standards; it almost looked like a human-sized mecha integrated with a considerable shield.
"It could be a remotely piloted robotic unit or a specialized hand-to-hand soldier for diplomatic escorts." Miranda speculated, searching for a logical explanation for the complete lack of long-range weaponry.
"I don't think it's a machine. Machines don't have such sinuous curves... perhaps that armor is an advanced exoskeleton, given that she's wielding a shield larger than herself with one hand." Jacob added, astonished by the strength required to move such a block of metal so gracefully, though he couldn't ignore the formidable aesthetics of that armored figure.
Kat Shepard gritted her teeth. Hearing Jacob talk about "height" stung her pride: at five feet four inches, she was almost always the smallest person in every room.
She looked like a kitten among giants, a comparison that, combined with her name Katarina, had earned her the nickname "Hellcat of Elysium."
But anyone who had seen her fight knew that within that small body roared a fury ready to unleash hell.
"I'm all for the exoskeleton theory, but if it were a robot with such a shape, it would mean they are a race that greatly values beauty or the female figure," Kelly commented, tilting her head curiously.
Captain Amelia finally emerged from the craft; Shepard and Miranda, having already communicated with her via video call, recognized her instantly. Yet, the resolution of a screen didn't do justice to her magnetic presence.
'She's so much more beautiful in person than on a monitor,' Kat thought, studying Amelia's features while fighting back a sudden blush.
The Heroine of Elysium had never hidden from herself the fact that she appreciated beauty in all its forms, whether it was the muscular strength of a man or the sinuous grace of a woman, and Amelia embodied the latter with an almost otherworldly elegance.
Looking down, Kat realized with some shock that Amelia was a true giantess: she stood well over two meters tall. But it wasn't just her height that intimidated her; the scientist's body was magnetically beautiful, with a decidedly... generous chest, which the fabric of her uniform barely contained.
In an instant, Kat's old teenage complexes about her small stature and small breasts came flooding back.
As a female soldier, Jade Kat Shepard was a titan, but as a woman, her self-esteem had just taken a massive hit in the face of this alien vision of perfection.
"I feel small..." Kelly whispered, forced to bend her neck back until she almost lost her balance to frame Amelia.
"Welcome to my world," Kat murmured, never taking her eyes off the scientist's imposing and all-too-attractive figure.
In his mind, the comparison was merciless: it was as if a small Earth cat had just found itself in front of a majestic and bursting alien cow.
"Joker wasn't kidding: Sexy Space Elf Women. The Asari are going to lose a lot of fans after today," Jacob commented, reacting with the frankness of any man faced with such beauty.
"The resemblance to our species is unprecedented, even surpassing that of the Asari." Dr. Chakwas murmured, maintaining her professional composure.
"If it weren't for her imposing stature, her ears, and the almost unnatural way she moves, I would have sworn I was looking at a particularly talented cosplayer," Dr. Chakwas said, not joking.
"I'm starting to think they might be a lot more open-minded than us humans, kind of like the Asari. Her suit is even tighter than Miranda's, and that was the sexiest I've ever seen... so far," Kelly commented, making no secret of her bisexuality and the fact that she found Miranda attractive.
The femme fatale, however, did not let herself be distracted by Amelia or the crew's chatter, and analyzed the exit sequence with her usual cold logic.
'First the bodyguard, then the Captain... now someone even more important has to come out.' Miranda thought, keeping her gaze on the airship's door.
Finally, the Rogue Trader Militant emerged from the shadows of the transport, revealing himself to the crew of the Normandy SR-2.
The moment he appeared, the Traveler captured the attention of everyone present as if he had cast a spell.
The female knight with the cross-shaped shield and the tall elf woman instantly faded into the background, almost vanishing from the perception of those present.
At that moment, it was as if the entire hangar had vanished into thin air: the only one who remained clear, as if hit by an invisible spotlight, was him.
The steady beat of his staff and the glint of gold on his chest demanded their undivided attention, turning the humans present into silent spectators of a majesty for which they were entirely unprepared.
Was it her exotic, androgynous appearance? Or her elegant, seemingly harmless air, made unique by her amethyst horns and sinuous tail?
A more logical mind would have understood that this was the effect of a humanity never exposed to the supernatural coming into contact with someone in whose veins flowed the blood of Fairy and Incubus.
The crew was captivated at first sight, as if their bodies had been struck by an unknown virus against which they had no antibodies.
The Traveler spread his four wings in a majestic X, then flapped them three times, producing a light breeze.
A sweet scent, similar to that of exotic flowers, enveloped the humans as the displacement of air made her lavender hair dance like a slow motion scene from a movie.
Kelly, enchanted, managed to secretly take a photograph with her Omni-tool.
Then, with a gentle smile, the Traveler abruptly retracted its wings. That sharp gesture broke the spell, restoring the crew's ability to breathe and think clearly.
"Miranda, what species is the woman with the wings? An Au-Ras?" Kat Shepard muttered quickly, trying to regain her commander's composure.
Miranda, tasting her own medicine for once in her life, blinked numbly; she opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times, visibly shaken.
"Perhaps? He could even be an Ysatnafian from a hybrid sub-race." Miranda replied, barely managing to speak, her usual clinical logic reduced to a heap of uncertainties.
"Leave the space elf women alone... tell Joker there are space succubi," Jacob commented, as deeply affected as everyone else.
Kelly, probably the most enthralled of those present, added with a dreamy sigh: "If she is a demon, I would gladly go to Hell."
Dr. Chakwas, perhaps due to her age and experience, was the only one to maintain a semblance of detachment, although her eyes shone with an unprecedented academic hunger.
"An extremely high basic resemblance, but with unique features: wings, tail, and horns. I wonder what kind of evolution its species has undergone." He murmured, eyeing the Traveler with the same interest as a zoologist discovering a legendary creature.
The trio advanced with perfect coordination: Amelia on the right, Bruce in the center, and Mash on the left, creating a ley line that was both intimidating and fascinating.
Jacob, watching the scene, couldn't help but think silently: "For better or worse, I'm the only man in the room."
He had no idea that the "Succubus" was actually male, betrayed by the androgynous perfection of Bruce's features.
Within moments, the two delegations found themselves face to face: Amelia facing Miranda, Mash protecting her from Jacob, and the Rogue Trader directly in front of Commander Shepard.
"On behalf of the Systems Alliance, I, Lieutenant Commander Jade Katarina Shepard, welcome you to the Normandy SR-2." Kat Shepard began, maintaining the firm tone of official protocol.
He reached out to Amelia, recognizing her as the Captain of the Alien Starship.
"On behalf of the Commonwealth and the Voidwalker Fleet, I, Amelia Blight, Captain of the Renai AB-3 and Lady High Scientist of Mechanicus, am delighted to be here, Commander Shepard." Amelia replied in a friendly tone, returning the gesture.
However, the physics of the situation made the moment awkward: at 215 centimeters, Amelia had to bend her knees significantly to get down to her interlocutor's level, while Kat was forced to raise her arm almost above her head to reach the giantess's hand.
Traveler, observing the contrast between the "little" Alliance heroine and his "big" scientist woman, could not help but let out a crystalline, mischievous laugh.
"The first contact between our peoples and the funniest handshake ever; this historic moment will have a sacred and comical air at the same time." The Traveler commented in a friendly and calm tone, maintaining a jovial demeanor that completely clashed with his mood of a few minutes earlier.
'Is Senpai planning an assassination or something?' Mash thought, tightening her grip on her shield. She knew that sudden change of mask all too well.
Amelia was no exception: "He wanted to ignore the Normandy's call and was openly displaying his bad mood the entire trip. Now he's acting nice? What's he up to?"
The female scientist cast a not-so-subtle glance at her raven-winged companion, trying to decipher his intentions.
Kat Shepard, trying to ignore the sting of pride at the height difference, shifted her gaze to Bruce's exotic figure.
"Ma'am, can you tell me who you are?" the Heroine of Elysium asked frankly.
"You may call me Traveler. I wish I could reveal my full names, but tradition and ancient rules prevent me from doing so." Bruce replied, projecting an aura of almost mystical mystery, as if he were someone entirely different from the one who had bitten Amelia moments earlier.
"That's no problem," Kat replied, drawing on her diplomatic experience.
"We have the Hanar on the Citadel Council; their people follow a similar rule: a public name for dealing with outsiders and a sacred name reserved only for intimates." The red-haired woman explained.
Bruce tilted his head, his good eye shining with amusement.
"An interesting comparison, Commander. I see that your galaxy is not without its spiritual nuances." Traveler commented, appreciating this new information.
Amelia and Mash, behind him, remained silent, watching as their Life Partner had already begun to weave his web of words around the "Hellcat".
"Another tradition, one I particularly cherish, is bringing gifts when I enter a new domain." The Traveler began, swinging his staff in a fluid motion.
At that instant, the floating trunk obeyed his invisible command. In a swift, fluid movement, the carved wooden chest flew toward Jacob, landing squarely in his arms. The former marine had to summon all his strength and plant his feet firmly on the ground to keep from staggering under that unexpected, colossal weight.
"Treat it as a token of peace and such a sudden meeting, and without knowing the details of your culture, I had to limit myself to the standard gifts." Bruce continued with an enigmatic smile.
Kelly, driven by an irrepressible curiosity, leaned over to open the lid.
The contents left the entire crew breathless: the chest overflowed with a multitude of gold coins shaped like snowflakes, each set with three oval blue gems that pulsed with an internal light. Atop this treasure, resting as if newly bloomed, stood a blue-white crystal flower, its petals seemingly made of solidified light.
"Here are to you, children of Earth, the gifts of the children of the Void." The Traveler proclaimed, deliberately adopting a solemn and archaic tone.
'He's being mysterious,' thought Amelia, watching her beloved Lord Trader at work.
"He knows very well that few women can resist his tone." The Ysatnafian scientist knew this game all too well: Bruce was projecting an aura of ancient nobility to captivate his audience, turning the Normandy's hangar into his stage.
Kelly, entranced, reached out for the snowflake-shaped coins, feeling a slight electric tingle emanating from the blue gems.
"The sacred symbols of Shiva, the Astral Ice One, known as the Protector of Heroes, Lover of Peace, and Patron of the Holy High Priestess, Lunafreya." Traveler proclaimed, continuing his act.
'It is a pity that this gift actually comes from Senpai, the one who represents Bahamut, the Astral One of the Void, known as the Black Warrior, the Creator of the Dragons of Ysatnaf,
protector of travelers, Keeper of Secrets, but also the exterminator of plagues and islands.' Mash thought to himself, maintaining his steely pose.
"We just got rich!" was the thought that flashed simultaneously through the minds of almost every human present, as the reflection of gold and blue gems danced in their eyes.
Miranda, however, remained anchored to her analysis.
"They're technologically advanced, yet deeply religious or tied to ancestral traditions. That would explain why they don't carry visible firearms: they trust in something else." Miranda mused, continuing to monitor the trunk's energy signals, which continued to fluctuate off-scale.
In reality, Miranda is wrong; the three aliens don't carry firearms not because of religious beliefs; they simply don't need them.
Mash is a Tank with absolute defense, Bruce is a Planeswalker with great magical powers, Amelia is a brilliant woman who hides a lot of things up her sleeves.
Kat Shepard, for her part, began to wonder if this wasn't Karma repaying her.
After dying in the freezing cold of space and being rebuilt by Cerberus, finding yourself in front of a friendly, aesthetically impeccable, and incredibly generous alien coalition seemed almost like a dream.
"On behalf of the crew, I am honored to accept your gift, Lady Traveler." Kat Shepard said, summoning all her formality and extending her hand to the "Succubus."
Instead of returning the handshake, Traveler wagged his amethyst tail.
With the fluidity of a playful predator, the scaly yet velvety tip curled around Kat's hand, squeezing it like a friendly snake.
"It's soft and warm to the touch..." the Commander thought, feeling an unusual shiver run down her arm. She fought a sudden blush, struck by the boldness and strange intimacy of that alien physical contact.
Bruce simply smiled, as if he were a snake surmising its prey.
"I have to make a correction: my subspecies doesn't have strong sexual dimorphism, so it's very common to confuse the sexes if you don't know what to look for." Traveler explained as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
"That means..." Kelly muttered, her eyes wide.
"I am a man." Traveler declared, tilting his head slightly with a smile that seemed almost made of glass.
The revelation hit the hangar like a shockwave. The shock was so great that Jacob lost his grip: the trunk crashed onto his foot, spilling a cascade of gold and blue gems onto the Normandy's metal floor.
"Jacob!" Miranda exclaimed, glaring at him for such an unprofessional outburst.
"I think this would be a perfect time to move to a conference room; we certainly have a lot to talk about." The Traveler said, elegantly ignoring the incident and the pain Jacob was clearly trying to suppress.
"I... completely agree," Kat Shepard replied, her voice higher than usual with embarrassment. "Traveler... can you let go of my hand?"
In one fluid motion, Bruce retracted his tail, returning it to its place with a sinuous swipe.
As the group set off, Amelia and Mash exchanged a foreboding look.
'This is one of the very rare moments when Senpai is actually acting diplomatically.' Mash thought with a shiver of concern.
'What will he ask for in return for all this courtesy?' Mash thought, knowing full well that, for Bruce, diplomacy was only a prelude to something much more concrete.
Amelia, for her part, was trying to enjoy the calm. "He listened to me, he's doing his best... which means he'll be at his worst later."
The group left the hangar, leaving Jacob to collect the gold bars under Miranda's fiery gaze, while the "Hellcat" desperately tried to organize her thoughts on how to negotiate with a male demon who smelled of flowers and gave away planets.
The nickname of night demon fits this individual perfectly, who can charm anyone when he wants.
Continues ...