Nihlus went two steps in front of Saren. That was the appropriate order of things. They were not yet equals. Nihlus often wondered if they ever would be, even once he was appointed as a Spectre. That was supposed to be a matter of formality now, but still. Nothing was certain with Saren.
Continue reading Arrival
Garrus observed the two Spectres with a keen eye. He was excited. No: ecstatic! This was the day. Spirits of the Skies, this had to be the day. He tried to tower over the others, if not in height, then in determination. A good officer could sense that, smell that. And Saren was nothing if not a good officer – if you can consider a Spectre as such. The most decorated turian in the service of the Council ever! And he was here to personally pick a candidate. It was almost surreal.
Continue reading Inspection
It was half past ten. Nihlus had already searched two abandoned buildings for ‘meeting room eight’ and was running out of patience. Not that he’d been in any sort of patient mood even before setting out; he simply couldn’t believe that Saren had upped and left him to handle the evaluation just like that. Was he out of his twisted mind? He’d been acting strange ever since that fallout they had over cleaning the ship, of all things. Like an old married couple.
Continue reading Private Conversation
Garrus couldn’t remember what he’d expected from the evaluation before the Spectres showed up, but he sure hadn’t expected it to be as exciting and as fun as it turned out to be. During the first two days, they had rotated as squad-leaders, and on the third, the leaders with the best results got to lead through the entire day. Of course Garrus had emerged as the best in his squad, and Lavena in hers. Lavena was perfect. She had the most intricate Rubori markings, going from her cheekplates up to the tips of her delicate fringe-blades in elegant purple spirals. She was only slightly shorter than him and deliciously lean. Every movement she made, a poem of strength and grace, every gaze she gave him, a fire in his loins. Everybody had a crush on Lavena, even the other females. She was impossible to resist, and Garrus, for one, wasn’t really trying at all.
Continue reading Getting Drunk
Nihlus wasn’t half as drunk as he wanted to be. Or perhaps, twice as much. Or maybe it was the sand, coloring all his perceptions in crimson shades of lust. He felt teeth grazing softly along his neck and had to fight the need, the urge to call out Saren’s name. It wasn’t fair. Vakarian was a good sport.
Continue reading Saren Returns