Weapon shopping

One of the downsides of being in Council space was the sheer amount of red tape and regulation that stood between the average citizen and their acquisition of military hardware. Such weapons were still largely legal in Council space, but required background checks and waiting periods designed to demotivate rather than outright prevent people from buying weapons. And even then, the most powerful small arms were generally hoarded by the Alliance and its peer governments. None of them wanted their citizens to have access to weaponry that could allow them to fight on equal footing with the best in their respective militaries.

Thankfully, however, I was not in Council space. There were so many elicit dealings here that would have been outright banned in areas under Citadel jurisdiction. Scantily-clad Asari prostitutes gazed at me with eyes that promised me the night of my life. A few of them had eyes that glowed faint red, a sure sign of red sand addiction. Indentured servants were paraded out into the streets by their current masters who enthusiastically listed their various skills and praised their dedication and obedience.

Ashley glared at the people holding the metaphorical collars of the servants. She was clad again in her white and blue Alliance armor. Much as I enjoyed the way her jumpsuit conformed to her perfect body, it was far more important that Ashley be protected as best she could.

“‘Indentured servants.’ More like slaves. It's disgusting how Illium likes to pretty up slavery,” the beautiful woman muttered, clenching her fists. I knew she wished she could do something for the people here.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I replied, feeling the same way. I know it may sound hypocritical considering Ashley is far more a **** to me than those indentured servants could ever be, but these people were oftentimes being held against their will. Ashley’s wishes and desires had been reshaped by the pen. She didn’t see herself as a **** who’d been **** to serve me. The pen had prevented her from reaching that realization. It was an important distinction, and it was something I would have to cling to if I was going to carry out my sister’s mission.

“You could free them, couldn’t you? Just use the pen and set them all free?” Ashley said. Her brown eyes gave me a complicated look.

I shook my head.

“A few of them, maybe. But this is an entire planet we’re talking about. There are probably millions of indentured servants here. There’s no way I could just free them all. At least not in my lifetime,” I said.

Ashley swallowed.

I gave her a commiserating grin and moved closer to her, taking her hand in mine. I stopped walking. She did too, a small smile on her face as she looked at me.

“Illium’s just one world, Ash. One world among thousands that all have their own problems and injustices. We’re working to save all of them, even the indentured servants here, but I can’t do it without you. So keep it together,” I said.

Ashley licked her lips and nodded.

“Yes, sir,” the smile grew slightly. “You’re right. I’m sorry about my little outburst. Old habits die hard, ya know?"

"It's okay," I said.

She gave my hand a squeeze before continuing.

“Let’s go check out that dealer over there. I think it might have a few things we need,” she started walking towards a shop with glowing holographic signs that read “Rare and Exclusive Military Hardware,” and “Armor and Weapons Manufactured on Palaven.”

It was all in the most wide-spoken Turian language. My optical implants translated the words for me so that it seemed like they were written in English.

A blinking red light scanned us as we entered the building. There were a few customers milling about. Most of them were armored Turians or Asari who were paying more attention to the other occupants of the building than the merchandise itself. And oh there was a great deal in here that I could use, from full armor sets that looked leagues more protective than Ashley’s hardsuit and weapons that looked to be a cut above the Alliance standard issue. I doubted very many of them were as powerful as the heavy **** rifle Ashley wore on her back. That seemed to be the only aspect of Ashley’s gear that didn’t look like it had been supplied by the Alliance. Maybe it was a holdover from her time with my sister?

Ashley nudged my arm. Glancing at the other armored figures in the room, she whispered, “Private security goons. Some of them look ex-military. Actually, all of the Turians definitely are. You comfortable with this or do you want to go someplace else?”

I shook my head. “No, let’s see what they have here.”

Ashley nodded.

“Okay, sir. Just follow my lead and be ready to duck behind cover if things go bad,” she said.

I raised my eyebrows as she walked off. Well, that was encouraging.

We moved further into the store. Ashley gave some of the gear once-overs or approving nods if she found something she liked. There was little here in terms of drones, which wasn’t surprising considering this was an ostensibly Turian store.

Making our way to the counter where a grizzled old Turian stood with his hands on the counter, we caught his eye. They narrowed slightly at Ashley’s armor before flicking over to me. A glimmer of understanding twinkled in his eyes and he gave me the Turian approximation of a grin.

“Good morning and welcome to Silverite Armaments. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for? We offer a two-for-one deal on most refurbished gear, but I’m sensing that’s not what you’re here for,” he said. His voice was flanged and had a slightly metallic cadence to it.

I blinked.

“You’re right about that,” Ashley said before the silence could stretch on too long.

The Turian gave me an amused look before switching over to Ashley.

“That’s Alliance standard issue armor. Am I right about that, too?” the Turian said.

Ashley nodded. “Barring a few upgrades here and there, yeah. We were hoping you could fix that. And add in a good handgun plus a hardsuit for him."

“Got it. Here’s a full list of the items I have in stock that would satisfy your criteria. You can also request any items you want that aren't in stock, but you’ll have to wait for them to be shipped here. There’s also a 500 credit restocking fee if you decide against purchasing an item after it's been shipped,” the Turian typed a few commands into his glowing orange omni-tool.

Ashley’s ‘tool lit up bright blue in response. She made a show of scrolling through the item list, but her eyes were on me, waiting for my permission.

“Pick what you think is best. You’re the expert here, Ash.”

The brunette preened at my comment.

“Yes sir,” she kept smiling as her fingers danced across the omni-tool.

I heard someone walk up to the counter next to me. I turned and beheld easily one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. The Asari had dark blue, almost violet skin and indigo eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. She wore a tight, form-fitting and revealing red outfit that I had trouble categorizing. It looked like a jumpsuit the prostitutes on the street had been wearing but much more refined. She somehow made the fact that her tits were practically pouring out of her low cut cleavage seem elegant.

She caught me staring. Her lips twitched upward so quickly if I had blinked I would have missed it. I could tell she was older than Yira, the matron who owned part of the company that owned the hotel I was staying at.

This might have been the first Asari matriarch I’d ever seen in person. She’d probably been alive in the time when Columbus discovered the Americas. It was hard not to be in awe of her. The history she must have seen over her long life could probably fill dozens of textbooks. Hell, she’d probably actually seen Quarians without their suits. In person.

“Samara!” the Turian greeted her enthusiastically. I swear I’d never heard one of them express excitement or joy to the level this one had at seeing the woman whose name was apparently Samara.

“Klinius. It is agreeable to see you again,” The Asari responded amicably. She shifted her stance slightly, giving me a view of her backside. My eyes fell to her rear. Goddamn. Her jumpsuit practically hugged her fat MILF ass, digging into her asscrack. “You sent a message mentioning that your repairs to my rifle were complete?”

“Yes, I did,” Klinius said. His mandibles twitched subtly. “It’s just in the back. Let me bring it up for you.”

He left the counter, retreating through a small entryway which led further into the building.

I glanced over at Samara. She met my gaze with the ambivalence only someone who had lived for centuries could manage.

“Hi,” I said nervously. I cursed inwardly. Damn, she was so beautiful. She easily put Yira’s looks to shame. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was staring at her in a way that would probably make women uncomfortable. I averted my gaze.

Thankfully, the Asari seemed more amused than anything else.

“Hello,” she replied kindly. “Klinius may be somewhat aloof, but he is quite skilled in the field of small arms. You are both in good hands.”

“Uh, thanks. I’m John, by the way. John Shepard,” Ashley cleared her throat behind me, a subtle smirk on her face. “And that’s Ashley Williams.”

“Good to meet you,” Ashley said, still idly scrolling through the selections on her omni-tool.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both. I am Samara,” Samara smiled serenely. She glanced over at Ashley, though it seemed more for show than anything else. I could see a mote of respect in her eyes. Maybe she could sense Ashley had been through a lot combat-wise?

She leaned forward slightly, giving me a full view of her ample cleavage. Jane’s pen burned a hole in my pocket. I couldn’t help but imagine Samara becoming mine. An Asari matriarch would probably be very influential, to say nothing of her combat skills and the sheer breadth and power of her biotic abilities. Someone like that would be an amazing asset to whoever had her on their side. I could tell Ashley was thinking the same thing.

I retrieved the pen from my pocket. It seemed to both reflect and absorb light, giving it an otherworldly visage. Samara’s eyes focused on it immediately. They widened slightly as her lips drooped open.

She blinked and looked away. Shit. I really hoped she didn't associate that little trance with me.

“That is a very beautiful item. I have not seen its like before. What is it?” she asked.

Ashley tensed behind me.

"Oh, it's just a gift my sister got me," I said.

Samara's eyes searched mine. Fuck, I really had to be careful about letting other people see the pen.

"I see," she said.

“Here you are, Samara. All fixed,” Klinius hobbled back into the room and placed a long black box on the counter.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Quickly, I scribbled a sentence down on the counter with my pen.

“Wait, what’s that?” Klinius gestured to the golden writing on the counter.

“Hm?” Samara looked away from the box on the counter. The intensity of her gaze had subsided somewhat, only to reignite when she saw the words I’d hastily written on the counter while she was distracted.

John Shepard’s store

I really hoped whatever power governed the pen would distract Samara from asking any more questions about it.

“That is very interesting,” Samara turned to me. She eyed me curiously. “John Shepard, I didn't realize you owned this store. I must have looked foolish when I implied you knew nothing about Klinius’ expertise."

Ashley looked apprehensive. She’d moved closer to me in the last few seconds, likely to get herself in range to take any attack aimed at me.

“Well, we all make mistakes,” she said lightly.

The Asari withdrew slightly, a complicated expression on her face.

“Indeed.”

She opened the black box, revealing a pristine red-painted **** rifle. Whatever material it was made from was smooth. It lacked the rugged utilitarianism that characterized most Mass Effect technology. It seemed that the rifle had been built to be as beautiful as it was deadly. She examined the weapon for a few moments before turning to me.

“Your employee does excellent work, John Shepard. Thank you, Klinius.”

I’d never seen a Turian show a full-on grin before. I felt like joining him.

“No. Thank you, Samara. That means an awful lot coming from a Justicar,” Klinius said.

“A Justicar? What’s that?” Ashley asked.

Samara closed the box containing her rifle.

“I am not surprised you haven’t heard of us, Ms. Williams. Very few of us ever leave Asari space. We are an order that dedicates itself to the enforcement of our Code to the exclusion of all else. Our oaths are lifelong and ever-binding. We may never marry… or have children. The only possessions the Code allows us to maintain is our own armor and weapons,” she patted the box containing her **** rifle.

The rest of us fell silent at that. I’d heard about the Justicars before, but I always assumed they were some ancient myth the Asari liked to romanticize. I never imagined that they could actually be real, much less operating throughout Asari space.

“Your order sounds pretty similar to the Spectres,” I said. Thoughts of my sister streamed to the forefront of my mind. I wondered what Jane would have thought of Samara. I bet they’d have gotten along pretty well. She was always so fascinated by stories of ancient knights and Samurai wandering the world and righting wrongs. Samara was probably the closest thing to either she was likely to meet in the 22nd Century.

Samara nodded. “That is an apt comparison.”

Klinius glanced over at me. “Mr. Shepard. You know, before today I hadn’t realized you were the real owner of this place. I hope I’ve managed everything the way you’d have wanted, boss.”

I smirked. Just a few words written on a counter was enough to get me my very own high tech weapons store. I shook my head at the absurdity of my life these days and pushed onward.

“You did good, Klinius. I just want to outline a new policy I want to take effect immediately: I get to personally inspect any weapon I want before they’re released to the customer.”

The Turian nodded as if I’d given an incredibly reasonable request.

“Samara, if you will…”

The Asari smiled amicably and pushed the box containing her **** rifle towards me.

“What are you doing?” Ashley whispered. She was so close to me her lips were almost touching my ear.

I patted her on the rear. There was no way she could feel it through her armor, but she blushed anyway.

“You’ll see. Just watch me work,” I whispered back.

“Oh I will,” she breathed. She gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Samara gazed at the two of us. A small smile played at her lips.

Pen in hand, I made a show of inspecting the weapon as I drew another sentence. The words sunk into the immaculately maintained weapon in a way that looked almost graceful. The weapon itself seemed like it had been personalized for the Justicar.

Samara had also said that the only possessions her order allowed her to keep were armor and weapons. If I could claim one of the few items she was allowed to own then maybe I could gain a significant amount of leverage over her. Enough to get her let me write a few harmless words on her skin, perhaps.

I knew I was probably tempting fate after Samara had gotten suspicious of the pen, but there was no way I could allow someone that powerful and experienced to start thinking I had a mind-controlling Prothean relic at my disposal. So far Samara hadn't displayed any resistance to the pen's writing. I was about to see how far that lack of resistence extended.

I passed the rifle back to Samara.

Her eyes widened when she saw the words I'd written, claiming her rifle as my own.

“John Shepard… I…” she swallowed. “How is this possible? Just a moment ago, I..."

She blinked and shook her head. She lowered her head slightly.

"I am deeply sorry for this. Words cannot express the regret I feel after having used your rifle for well over fifty years without your permission. I have violated the Code and shamed my order."

I fought back the urge to sag with relief. So Samara felt guilty over using "my" rifle. That was good. That was very good, actually. And damn, she'd owned the thing for over five decades? I wondered how she was reconciling that with the fact that humanity hadn't even known about aliens that long ago.

“Wow. From what you said earlier I never would have guessed that the Asari Justicars were thieves," I put as much derision in my voice as I could.

Samara clenched her fists, but said nothing.

Ashley approached the counter. She stared at Samara's rifle for a few moments before glaring at the Justicar.

“That weapon looks priceless. I think you owe John here a little more than an empty apology. Unless you'd rather we tell everyone your order is full of criminals,” she said.

"No!" Samara flared her biotics briefly. She took a breath to calm herself. “Asari Justicars are expected to make amends if we violate even the least important tenets of our Code. The prohibition of thievery is one of the more severe ones, and the Justicar guilty of it would be required to make amends to the offended party,” she said. “I have very little to my name, but there is one thing I can offer you that you may find valuable."

“Like what?” I said.

“Myself," she replied, her voice firm. "I can take on the Third Oath of Subsumation.”

I blinked. An oath. What was she talking about?

“Come again?” Ashley asked.

Samara stared at me.

“All Justicars are strict adherents to our Code. We cannot deviate from our mission outside of a few circumstances. The Third Oath of Subsumation allows a Justicar to swear her absolute loyalty to another. That loyalty would override my obedience to the Code, so that I might spend whatever time is necessary making amends to you,” she approached me. I tried to ignore the way her big breasts danced and jiggled beneath her outfit. “Your morals would become my morals. Your choices would become my choices.”

My heart skipped a beat. She couldn't be serious. There was no way it could be this easy to get an Asari Justicar under my control.

“So you’ll… you’d do anything I told you?”

Samara frowned.

“I would, though after I am released from my oath I may be **** to kill you if you **** me to act in a way that is extremely dishonorable.”

I chuckled nervously. So there was the catch. I wondered if having her let me write on her skin would be considered dishonorable?

“Thanks for the warning,” I said.

Samara smiled. “Indeed. So are my terms acceptable to you?”

“They are.”

Samara sunk to one knee in front of me, her head bowed. Rippling blue energy encompassed her form.

I instinctively took a step back.

“I hereby pledge the Third Oath of Subsumation to you, John Shepard, for the crime of stealing what rightfully belonged to you. Your choices are my choices. Your morals are my morals. Your code is my Code. I am yours to command until I have paid penance for my actions."

Samara stood and approached me. Her voluptuous body swayed and jiggled in just the right way.

“It is done. I will follow and obey you, John Shepard.”

Klinius watched her with wide eyes. Ashley seemed rather impressed. She chuckled.

“Wow. I can't wait to see Liara's expression when she hears about this.”