Note: First of all, thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites! They really warm my heart!

In reply to a review about the dates, keep in mind that I'm using the dates on the Codex and the wiki. If you have patience, you will find an explanation for everything in later chapters. I don't know how often will I be able to update, but I won't abandon the story!

Chapter 3: Trapped.

"You have set something in motion

Much greater than you've ever known

Standing there in all your grand naivety

About to reap what you have sown"

My Violent Heart

Nine Inch Nails

Commander Malek Nikus was leaning on a large windowsill, looking out. In spite of everything, he had to admit to himself that he really liked the landscapes of Gothis, its tall dark trees and the blue rocks laced with diamond veins. Something was very soothing about the blue light of the sun, dancing with the little sparkles on the ground. The planet used to be a thriving turian colony before the Unification War, in a time far before his people had even met other sentient species. Upon first contact with those fleshy aliens called 'humans', the Hierarchy decided to retake Gothis and establish an outpost there to monitor enemy's activities.

The building he was in was pretty much brand new, made with modules connected to each other by wide corridors. It was really large, and as comfortable as an outpost could be. The food was fresh and tasty, the beds were large. He had his own quarters, complete with an office, a bedroom with a private bathroom, and a living room. And yet, it wasn't a ship, and none other than Malek Nikus was to blame himself for the impossible situation he was in.

"A prisoner, Commander Nikus?" barked Captain Soranus, C.O. of the Intrepid, the vessel that Nikus was assigned to serve on. "What where you thinking? We don't have the appropriated facilities to have a prisoner on board."

"I know, sir," Malek hasty replied, trying to hide in his tone the contempt he felt for his Captain, just like every time he had to address the man, "but I was thinking she could be taken to a suitable location where she could be interrogated. We don't have enough knowledge about these 'human' creatures, sir. Even if she doesn't know anything useful, we could finally gain access to their language to upload it to our translators."

Soranus took a hand to his chin, looking at Nikus with his bright cruel eyes. Even since Commander Nikus had been assigned to the Intrepid, both men couldn't see each other eye to eye, but there was nothing any of them could do about it. The Captain had tried to get rid of the Commander many times, to no avail. Neither of them decided what ship they would serve on, and personal rivalries were no reason enough to ask for a relocation.

"Fine, Nikus," the Captain finally said, nodding slightly. "We aren't so far away from Gothis outpost. I'll arrange everything to have a team sent there. You'll conduct the interrogations..."

"Me, sir?" interrupted Malek, horrified. It was very rude to speak before a superior officer had finished talking. He could even be punished for doing that, but it mattered little to the turian Commander at that moment. He had to stop that nonsense. "I'm just a soldier..."

"You'll be assisted by linguists and other experts, of course," continued the Captain, ignoring the interruption. "However, since you are the first turian to ever capture one of those little animals, you should have the honor to give us all the knowledge she could provide. It's an honor few turians would refuse."

Yes, Commander Malek Nikus had to be blamed from trapping himself. He had finally given Soranus an excuse to get rid of him. Gothis was a nice world, but it wasn't a turian ship. He was now away from combat, confined to a rocky world with a team of experts, a salarian doctor, and a female alien with yellow plants growing from her head. That was the most disturbing feature about those creatures: the plants that inhabited the top of their heads, flowing with their movements, like in a sick symbiosis from hell itself.

The door opened behind him, and the perky salarian doctor entered his office. The Commander had previously instructed all his team that they could enter anytime, to report about the prisoner. If he needed privacy, he could always lock the door leading to the living room and the bedroom. Furthermore, he was actually expecting news from the salarian. Jato Molus was his name, his mind reminded him. Truth to be told, Malek had low tolerance for salarians and their rapid speech. They always seemed to be doing something, thinking something. Probably nothing good most of the time.

"Ah, Commander Nikus!" greeted the alien. The salarian approached until he stood in front of him. Malek had turned and was facing the door, his back on the window. He leaned on the windowsill casually, not really feeling that he had to adopt any formal attitude. He was, after all, in charge of the team assigned to deal with the prisoner. "I'm glad to report that the human is recovering from her wounds. She's in better health than one would expect, given the circumstances."

"Good," said the turian in a neutral tone of voice, nodding.

"I recommend giving her healthy and nutritious food," added the doctor moving his head to a side and twitching his hands together. "Exasperating," thought the turian Commander, although his expression didn't change. The salarian continued, "It will help in her recovery."

"I honestly have no idea what is healthy food for a human," frankly said Malek shaking his head. "Can she eat the same as you?"

"Oh, I'm sure she can!" said Jato opening his arms and smiling. "I've never seen any levo species that couldn't eat a good salarian stew."

"Good, just speak with our cook, I'll make sure we order the supplies we need," the Commander said moving his head as if pointing to the general direction of the kitchen. After a brief pause he added, "Anything else you can tell me?"

"Not right now," replied the doctor shaking his head. "I couldn't get her to talk, but I'm sure she will eventually. I'm most interested in hearing how her language sounds like. I wanted to say that I'm really thankful for this opportunity to study a new species, and I will take my responsibilities very seriously."

"I just need your discretion," said Nikus looking at the salarian with his piercing green eyes, adopting a severe tone, "and your skills to keep her alive until we're done interrogating her."

"Of course, of course," said Jato, twitching his hands together. He lowered his shoulders, as if intimidated by the large silver turian with white markings on his face. After a few seconds, the salarian asked, sounding afraid, "You... you won't torture her, right?"

"What do you think we are? Batarians?" Malek said, offended. He really looked frightening and menacing, and he was aware that he could cause that effect on people sometimes. Right at that moment, he didn't care. "We need information from her and we'll try to get it, but turians don't particularly enjoy hurting another sentient being. Let's just hope she's willing to collaborate."

"Of course," said the salarian nodding, his tone revealing his nervousness. "I..." he hesitated, walking backwards in the direction of the door, "I'll let you know if I need anything. I mean, for treating the pat... the prisoner."

"Good," said Malek nodding. The salarian left swiftly, before anything else could be said.

The turian Commander sat at his desk in his office, thinking. He had said the doctor that they weren't batarians, that they wouldn't torture the human if it wasn't necessary, but he was aware that it could be. He was realistic, and knew that hoping the prisoner would be cooperative was more an expression of desire than anything. Marianne Brice was an alien of a species he could not possibly understand, because he had never meet them before. And yet, there was something about the eyes that was universal to all species. People could read souls from the eyes, if one knew what to look at. Marianne's eyes had revealed Malek that she wouldn't easily submit, that she wouldn't yield until she had no other choice, and that fact gave very little choice himself. Trapped, both of them.

Lost on his thoughts, he hardly heard the sound of the door opening for the second time that afternoon. He looked up, only to see a figure from his past stand before him, a sardonic smile dancing on her mandibles.

"Why would you marry him, Cirtar?" he asked, running a talon down one of the plaques on her naked chest. The sheet covered both their legs up to their lower abdomen, hiding from his view the magnificent look of her waist. "You don't love him."

"Love is overrated, Malek Nikus," replied the woman chuckling lightly. "I have every reason in the world to marry him, but why should I tell you?"

"Being here, on this bed together," insisted Malek, glaring at her with his green eyes, "is not reason enough for you to tell me?"

"I'm already cheating at him with you," Cirtar said, shrugging and dismissing his words with a movement of her hand. "Are you worried that I might change with marriage? Don't be a fool, and come here before we run out of time."

There she was, Cirtar Kerseri, standing in all her magnificence. She was still as beautiful as before, her golden eyes shinning with intensity. She didn't have any colony markings on her brown caparace. Although that was rare for a turian, and could even become a social stigma, in her only enhanced her beauty. She never had a problem about her lack of markings that he knew off. Of course, he didn't know all the details in her life, especially since she got married and he refused to continue seeing her.

"Hello, Malek," she greeted, placing a hand on her waist and slightly tilting her weight to the other side.

"What are you doing here, Cirtar?" he asked, unable to conceal the annoyance in his tone.

"Not even a 'how have you been?'," she asked approaching his desk. She sat on the chair in front of his. "Military life has made you impolite, I see."

"That doesn't answer my question," he insisted, refusing to drop his guard.

"Well..." she started, "I heard that we have a human prisoner and I volunteered as psychology expert. I figured you'd need one."

"You knew I was here?" Malek asked, irritated.

"May I see her?" Cirtar asked ignoring his question. Of course, that was all the answer he needed, but still it upset him to no end that she would do that. Just like she did in the old days, when he was young and still had hope that he would win over her heart. The female turian continued, "How does she look like? I've never seen a human face to face."

"And you won't until I say so," replied the Commander in a firm tone.

"Is this your way to getting back at me?" she asked, slowly shaking her head. "Keep in mind I can be really useful." She leaned back on her chair, and looked at him as if studying him. "Let me guess. You're not precisely happy to be here. You're a military man, a man of ships and war. The sooner we do this, the sooner you can go back to what you perceive your life should be." She inclined forward on the table, extending her arm until she casually touched his hand. "Let me help you," she whispered. He drew his hand back immediately, and she chuckled.

"How is your husband doing?" Malek asked waving his hand.

"Fine," she replied sitting straight on her chair. "He's doing great. I'd say he sends his regards, but I doubt you'd believe me."

Malek sighed. It was true that she could be of help, and he knew better than to try to dissuade her. She was who she was, that would never change. He decided he would try his best to get her help and stay away from her games.

"Listen. I'm in charge here," he finally said after a moment of silence. "We do things my way, or we don't do them at all."

"Roger that, Commander," the female turian replied, nodding. The smile on her face was still there, undecipherable, eternal. Beautiful. Deadly.

Malek Nikus really hoped he could accomplish the task he had in his hands. Otherwise, things could get pretty nasty, both for his career and his sanity.