If this feels incomplete, that's because it is, but I felt bad neglecting this series for so long.
I was in the middle of writing this when I received some very devastating news, so sadly my writing muse is likely to be gone for a while. Hopefully I'll eventually recover to finish it in the future.
Javik could feel the heat as it crept through the defenses of his armor, his frontal eyes strained into slits as his lateral ones covered for them, the prothean taking advantage of their extra sensitivity to movement in order to make sense of his surroundings.
A child holding the disembodied arm of her parent.
Nail marks on the walls painted with gold-dried blood.
A male shriek as a woman fatally shot her indoctrinated mate. His body shuddered and twitched until it fell limp, a reaper-hacked communications link still making paused blinks even as she mutilated his arm and threw it into the fire, swearing loudly.
An explosion right behind him hurled the woman against the wall, and the cracking noise that followed after confirmed her fate. Javik stumbled trying to regain his balance. The utter exhaustion clawed at the back of his mind, placed weights on his ankles, weakened the grip at the tips of his fingers. He reacted half a second too late as a flare of biotics disarmed him, as a second thrust him onto his back.
The prothean woke up panicked in a… bed. His eyes were wide and his teeth clenched as he snapped his back up straight, mind trying to process where he was, what was he doing, no – when, when. There were no fires nipping at the seams of his armor, it was dark, cool, but unfamiliar. His fingers moved around the sheets like frantic spiders as his eyes attempted to adjust. Where is his gun? Where is his gun?
One of them touched something. It was… soft, unusually so, and it moved slightly under the pressure of his fingertips, expelled a sighed moan. Javik's eyes finally adjusted to the dark when he looked over to the skin's owner; an asari on her side, lips full and pulled into a smile in reaction to his contact.
A tender voice and a blue face and a blue sky. Green moss covering technology brown in its death. A ship piloted by… humans. Krogan footsteps. The light of a cycloptic AI. Glimmers of familiar green. Flared biotic anger and a once soft voice tainted by rage. A turian laugh. A quarian's hand on his shoulder. Fire. Ash. Death. Revival.
Javik rested his face in his hands as memories flashed through him, both in relief and remorse, an eye peeking through a gap in between his fingers. There was a reason, a very good one, as to why he did not allow himself to sleep on his back; there was more than one painful memory associated with it. A concern easily forgotten when Liara invited herself into his bed.
Soulful blue eyes look at him and cause his breath to hitch in his throat for the first time in many, many years. A voice that stays on his tympanum even when she is not there. Lonesome companionship as they venture through deserts, ice scapes, tunnels, light, discussing comparisons of their cultures. Pheromones tingling on his nasolabial grooves. Liara's smile as she hands him a datapad with an honorary doctorate. "It didn't take much to convince them," she says, face flaring a lovely indigo.
Touches that linger a second too long, voices that trail off, feelings that wish to be spoken, a wayward look which says "stop me if I leave the room without you."
A dip into a careful kiss, fingertips curled on his shoulders. A confession. Misplaced hesitation. A conversation that spans hours. An embrace as she pressed herself to him, allowing him to extract as much information as he could from her..
Hungry kisses and fervent touches, a begging look that asks for more. A gasp. The color blue. The lick of biotics, the tender caress of a meld. Liara laying beneath him, shivering at his touch, her eyes barely open in strained lust.
"Talas…" She mumbles as he closes the gaps between them. He does not flinch at the name.
Evolution was an insistent force, urging him to mate again even now. Javik propped himself on his side and letting his hand to wander down Liara's arm, gazing at the way the thin, white sheets delicately framed her body and face. They almost comically contrasted his own; the soft roundness of her features with his sharp angles and hard plates.
He brushed his knuckles on Liara's cheek, feeling the coil that was the previous night's memories tighten in his belly as she reacted, motioning in a pleased way that slipped the sheet down her shoulder. But he had to restrain himself while his… his mate… was still asleep. Empresses, thinking about the asari in such terms only seemed to fuel his desire for her. She was the relief from his nightmares. Javik wanted to give her everything. He would conquer the galaxy to bring it to her feet.
But he could not, because Liara already had that even before she met him, and he found himself with so little to give her. The prothean had already given her the knowledge of his people, barring that there was only himself.
That did, however, give him an idea.
"So this is how your species gained its power," Javik allowed himself to sigh. "Even I have fallen into your trap."