Chapter 1: PRESIDIUM

“I get off in ten minutes,” Val said, Simon grinning at her pixellated face on the holographic display of his Omni-tool. The resolution wasn’t great, but he could just about make out her mandibles moving as she spoke.

“I’ll be there to meet you,” he replied, “our shift ended early today.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” she chuckled. Her voice had a flanging quality, making it oddly musical, like she was singing in harmony with herself. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Always.”

He closed the connection, the glowing projection shrinking back down into the housing on his wrist. Adjusting the collar of his suit, he walked over to the wall-length window of his sparsely furnished apartment, looking past his reflection and out over the Ward. Before him was a view that resembled the densely-populated cities of Earth, towering skyscrapers looming over the winding walkways below, their innumerable lights glittering in the twilight. The quality of the light here was very different from back home. The yellow glare of Earth’s sun was absent, and there was a pale glow in its stead, the light diffused by the presence of a deep-space gas cloud. There was no day or night here, the city was in a state of perpetual gloom.

As he turned his gaze toward the sky, he marveled at the great arms that made up the alien megastructure, like the blades of a giant ceiling fan. They could open up like a blooming flower, but they were currently closed up into a rough cylinder, each one attached to a giant ring known as the Presidium. Every arm was a metropolis in its own right, covered in the checkered patterning of a city viewed from space, small vessels darting between them.

The suit was a little stuffy, he wasn’t used to dressing so formally, but he wanted to make a good impression on his date with Val. Simon checked himself over one more time, brushing off one of his sleeves, then headed for the door. It slid open with a whoosh, and after a short walk down the corridor, he was speeding toward the ground floor in an elevator.

When he stepped out onto the street, he was met with the familiar bustle of the city. Pedestrians of all shapes and sizes clogged the walkways, aliens of a dozen species brushing shoulders, the sky above him clogged with skycars that ferried their occupants to and fro. They were in open space, there was no ceiling to protect them from the vacuum, but the station’s arcane technology maintained a pressurized atmosphere up to a height of about seven meters.

He set off towards the C-Sec building, where his date worked, almost walking into a lumbering Elcor as he rounded a corner. The creature was about nine feet tall, a massive, hulking alien with elephantine skin. It walked on four stout legs, its gait not unlike that of a gorilla, its beady eyes peering down at him from a face that was otherwise bereft of features.

“Excuse me,” Simon said, dodging around it.

“Surprised and apologetic,” the alien replied, its voice droning and monotone. “Be careful where you tread, little one.”

The Elcor did not express emotion in the ways that humans did, communicating their feelings through pheromones and infrasound. As such, they tended to preface their speech by simply stating their intended tone when they interacted with other species.

Simon continued on, arriving at the C-Sec building before long. He sat down on a padded bench in the waiting room, watching with amusement as an angry Volus argued at length with the Asari who was manning the front desk. The squat creature was hissing and puffing through his bulky environment suit as he described being pick-pocketed by a Quarian vagrant. The Asari was resting her blue face in her hand, trying not to roll her eyes. What did he expect her to do, go out and look for the thief? Quarians always wore pressure suits, there was no description to go on.

C-Sec, or Citadel Security, was a police force that had jurisdiction over the Wards and the Presidium. They handled everything from station security to petty crimes. Simon activated his Omni-tool, checking the time, shifting his weight impatiently.

He had been dating Val for a couple of weeks now, and things were starting to get serious. They were going on another date tonight, and he had been building up the courage to ask her if they could take things to the next level.

Just as Simon was considering giving her another call, Val stepped out from a side door, the panel closing behind her automatically. Her emerald-colored eyes met his across the room, and the bony plates that made up her face rearranged into a smile.

Turians were an avian species native to the planet Palaven. They had a basically humanoid body plan, with two arms and two legs, all where one would expect them to be. Much of their slender bodies were covered in layers of natural armor plating that protected them from their native sun’s radiation, their skin scaly in the places where it was exposed. Val’s carapace was covered up by her wide-collared C-Sec uniform, but he could still make out her figure, her slim waist pinched into a narrow hourglass. Her people lacked breasts, but there was still something alluring and feminine about them that had always appealed to Simon.

Val made her way over to greet him, her gait graceful. She reached out with a three-fingered hand and ruffled his hair, Simon making a show of fighting her off.

“Hey!” he grumbled, “I just got that all straightened out!”

“You’re dressed like you’re going to a funeral,” she chuckled, exposing her sharp teeth in a grin. The tough plates that made up her face almost made it look like she was wearing a mask, but it was all articulated, her heavy brow and the long mandibles that framed her jaw moving as she talked. It gave way to scaly skin on her neck and the back of her head, the females lacking the sharp horns and crests sported by the males. Her face was painted with red streaks that went across both cheeks, making it look like she was blushing, along with two tapering lines that went up the plate on her forehead. Her mandibles were dyed with faded, crimson ink, as were the plates above her eyes. They were traditional Turian tattoos that denoted her colony of birth.

“Why so formal?” she continued, Simon rising to follow her to the exit. “You didn’t dress up like a barefaced politician the last time you took me out.”

“I guess I just ... wanted today to be different,” he replied.

“Oh? Is there a surprise in store for me?” she asked as she took his arm. “Did you get me that new Rosenkov Materials sidearm I’ve had my eye on? You really shouldn’t have ... but I hope you did.”

“It’s nothing like that,” he chuckled, the pair stepping out onto the Ward.

“So, where are we going?” she asked impatiently. She was a few inches taller than Simon was, so he had to look up at her, those emerald eyes reflecting the glittering neon of a nearby sign. He led her over to the nearest skycar station, tapping a command into the console and waiting for one of the automated craft to arrive.

“I figured we’d do something a little different tonight,” he said, Val cocking her head at him curiously. “We’ve eaten out together the last few times.”

“And you’re getting tired of footing the bill for dextro food,” she added wryly, “I see how it is. I keep telling you, the male paying for the food is a Human custom, but you won’t listen!”

“It’s not that,” he chuckled, watching as one of the skycars broke off from the formation above. It flew down toward them, its engine humming, the cockpit opening to reveal a pair of padded seats. Simon helped Val inside, then sat down beside her, the canopy closing over their heads as the vehicle rose from the deck. She peered out of the tinted glass as they soared over the Ward, the skyscrapers tall enough that they still rose above the skycar as it weaved through the traffic under its own power.

“I wasn’t being serious when I made fun of your suit,” she said, “it’s just unusual to see you out of your uniform. It looks good on you,” she added with a smile.

“I can’t very well take you out to dinner dressed as a medic,” he replied.

“I dunno,” she added coyly, turning her eyes back to the cityscape. “Turian girls like a man in uniform, we’re all about that civic duty. Responsibility is hot.”

Simon laughed at that, but he knew that she wasn’t joking. Her people were obsessed with duty and honor, it was mandatory for them to enroll in the military from age fifteen, and they weren’t even considered full citizens in their society until they finished boot camp. The majority of the Turians on the Citadel worked in security jobs, like Val, as soldiers and police. Simon was also a civil servant, but he was a medic who worked for an ambulance service. It was his job to respond to accidents and to try to get people out of harm’s way in a crisis.

“Where are we going?” Val asked, noting that they were veering away from the Ward. The ten-kilometer ring that was the Presidium rose up before them, Val clapping her hands together excitedly. “Oh, Simon, are we going to the Commons?”

“You guessed it,” he replied, his companion practically bouncing with anticipation in her seat. “I got us a couple of passes for the evening. Well, it won’t be evening on the Presidium, but you get the idea.”

“I haven’t been there in months,” Val continued, “it’s so nice to take a break from the gloom of the Wards. You really know how to treat a girl, Simon.”

“I try.”

The skycar entered the ring-shaped structure through one of the docking ports, emerging into an environment that contrasted sharply with the dingy city that they had left behind. The kilometer-high skyscrapers and the colorful neon was replaced with whitewashed architecture, a blue sky, and scenic lakes. The Presidium was where all of the embassies for the various member species of the Alliance were located, along with offices for the Citadel Council, and other such official functions.

The ground below was designed to resemble a terrestrial park, with terraced fields of grass and verdant trees, water features reflecting the artificial sunlight. The walls of the structure were lined with buildings that resembled upscale hotels and resorts, long walkways bridging the two sides at intervals. The ceiling was actually a huge digital screen that displayed rolling clouds, the formations sliding their way lazily along the length of the structure until they curved out of view.

Their vehicle banked, breaking away from the formation of identical skycars as it headed for a terminal in the Commons below. It gradually slowed, touching down on one of the high terraces that overlooked a sparkling lake, the tinted canopy opening to expose them to a cool breeze.

Simon offered Val his hand, helping her out her seat. She didn’t need his assistance, she was probably stronger and more resilient than he was, but she seemed to enjoy being pampered. Perhaps it was a novelty to her, Simon couldn’t imagine a male Turian affording her the same courtesies.

She made her way to the nearby railing without missing a beat, leaning over to gaze at the Presidium. They were really high up, and there was a great view of one of the lakes from up here, magnificent fountains erupting into the air from its otherwise calm surface.