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A fallen star from another world. Ch: 1.

{Warning! Explicit Language in some parts}
“Ramilia T’Bannara.” Came the voice of the Asari matron sitting behind the desk, her eyes boring into the maiden with such a fierce intensity, she griped the fabric of her dress nervously.

The woman took her eyes off the younger woman once she was satisfied she had her attention fixed upon her again.

Ramilia silently cursed herself for daydreaming, and tried harder to pay attention to what the matron was saying.

The flicker and fluttering of pages were easily heard as the older woman behind the desk was quickly skimming through them all, no doubt trying to find something in particular she had read. The asari would have already been through it once or twice already as the day for this interview came up, though Ramilia was now beginning to have second thoughts about sending in her résumé with paper instead of using a terminal.

Ramilia had decided to send in her résumé, cover letter, and application for employment using paper. She elected to use ink and pens, she believed that someone should keep the old ways of doing things alive. She was of the strong opinion that far too often did people abandon something or other, in search for something that was supposedly “the next great step in progress!”

Ramilia would often scoff at those that tried to convince her to join in that regard. “Progress? More like the next great step in convenience and laziness!” She would reply when she was accused of being too deeply set in her ways. When in her eyes, she was simply not as easily impressed as most others were when it came to these ‘great steps in progress!’

The older Asari finally stopped rifling through the pages, pulling a couple of them out and laying them out flat on the desk, to which Ramilia let out a tense breath.

She had seen the papers she had withdrawn and was dreading what was to come next, it was a paper concerning her relations.

“Your mother, was a former commando is she not?” She tapped the stack of pages to straighten them, before laying it on a pile to one side of the desk, picking up the ones she needed for this very occasion.

She nodded. In truth, she bore no ill will for her mother. It was just that she hated how everyone who did a background check on her, always had the pedantic need to bring up her family. Never failing to test her patience.

“Yes, though she now spends her time working on hobbies. Such as creating art pieces and writing books, though her eyesight is understandably poor on account of her injuries.”

The woman behind the desk nodded and waved her hand over a small blue light near the edge of said desk, to her right near the corner.

A bright orange holographic projection came to life in the form of a screen almost immediately, and another taking the shape of a keyboard appeared to on the far side to her left. The board itself was completely flat and horizontal, with small square like shapes covering it, each occupied by a little symbol inside each of them.

The matron aged Asari gave another wave of her hand. The holographic board swiftly hovered over to be in front of her. She began typing, words slowly appearing on the screen to form sentences.

Ramilia took the moment to look outside the wall spanning window and take in the remarkable sight and state of the presidium.

She drank in the sight of the healthy green grass, the way the blue ponds and lakes sparkled under the artificial light of the citadel as sky cars soundlessly followed the curvature of the presidium.

She looked down to where the residents of the citadels best wandered it’s clean and well looked after streets, no doubt in Ramilia’s mind that a good number of them were probably diplomats, emissaries, or politicians of one kind or another. Of course, they could also just be a number of wealthy citizens who can afford the luxuries of the presidium.

There was just no way of knowing from here.

Ramilia took in a breath, she intended to speak her mind and get something off her chest. She picked her words carefully, not wanting to offend the very woman who may be her only shot at landing this position.

“Ms T’mara.” She began with straightening her back to appear more confident. “I am well aware that in being the daughter of a former commando is a legitimate cause for investigation of my family and personal background, especially with-”

“Let me just stop you there miss Ramilia. I understand that constant inquiries of this nature, can be tiresome and unpleasant at times. But this does not excuse you of having to through them for the sake of security.”

Ramilia felt her teeth clenching as she endured her sound rebuking for her words. She knew it was a matter of security of course, yet that still made it no less intolerable to endure.

She only nodded in the end, not wanting to escalate the issue any further. Instead they both decided to quietly let the issue drop, however, Ms T’mara did leave the subject of Ramilia’s family background behind… for now at least.

So, she wasn’t as bad or unfeeling as her initial assumptions and observations of stoic and demure personality would have led her to believe.

The interview went on, plenty of questions were asked and answered, many of which tended to be only brought up to confirm something Ms T’mara had read from Ramilia’s papers.

The temperature of the room had risen over the duration of the interview, both Asari eventually had become so hot, bothered, and distracted by this, they simply put the interview on hold.

Both women fanned at themselves with paper that T’mara kept for writing purposes, the younger of the two women was quite surprised to see the matron in possession of her own papers and raised her brow quizzically once the pages were produced from a desk drawer.

“You are not the only person who approves of ink and paper.” T’mara smiled, puffing her cheeks and exhaling, a bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of her nose and dropped off the end, plopping onto the table.

There was no balconies or windows that they could open, this office had no need for them when the building possessed its own form of environmental control systems to maintain and control the temperature of the building… obviously it was on the frits and the occupants were now suffering because of it.

Ramilia pulled off the elbow length sleeves she wore on her arms as part of her dress, the sleeves had a small ring of fabric that looped around her middle finger to help keep them in place, while the rest stayed put from being tight enough for her arms to snuggly fit into. The material was beginning to become moist from absorbing the sweat that the sleeves were producing, only further agitating her until she removed them and left them folded up on the desk.

The dress itself covered her entire body from her shoulder, to her feet. A split in the dress went from her neck, down towards her naval, while a PVC like material made to look sort of like webs at first glance rested within the split itself, partially covering her exposed skin.

The idea was so it would serve a similar purpose to a suture on an open wound, holding the fabric of her dress together, stopping her clothed from falling off her body.

A well-placed piece of the PVC webbing like material also formed a bridge, connecting the opposing sides together, the strategic positioning also covering her cleavage, denying them the luxury of seeing the gap that would still be visible, even if her breasts themselves were covered.

“If anyone currently has my curiosity piqued, it has to be you.” T’mara said between heavy breaths. Her hand hot and clammy, she kept fanning herself, the fleetingly short gusts of wind doing precious little to alleviate her of the heat.

“Tell me miss T’Bannara, why are you so interested in participating on a deep space expedition? You are still so young, and well within your maiden years, why choose this instead of the many other options that are available to you.” The older Asari spoke with a serious tone, yet it also betrayed a sense of curiosity, exploring uncharted space is no safe task, the Rachni were classic example. She wanted to know what would cause such a young maiden to pursue such things.

Ramilia looked at the older women with a scowl. “And what ‘other opportunities’ would those be?” She pretended to muse. “You mean opportunities where I can follow in my mother’s footsteps and become a commando like everyone seems to expect me to do?”

T’mara wanted to wince. Right away she realised she had struck a sensitive nerve, benefits of studying psychology like her job required.

“Or perhaps I could go and shake my ass off inside a sleazy, filthy dump of a bar somewhere in the Terminus system? Then again, I could go to Illium and join the eclipse, kill someone who probably doesn’t even deserve it just so I could earn the uniform and traffic illegal goods, like stolen mechs and weapons, maybe even the occasional shipment of red sand perhaps?”

T’mara nodded understandingly. She knew that Ramilia was currently just blowing off some repressed anger, that seemed to have been building up for quite some time.

“Then again I could just be like most maidens and just go out partying. Getting drunk every night, taking Halix as I shamelessly take others to my bed.” Ramilia would have continued, if not for the timely intervention of the ventilations systems. Serving as a way of saying she need not continue.

Cool, fresh air flowed into the office. But neither Asari seemed to notice as both women stared at the other, no words were spoken. Ramilia was breathing a little harder from her outburst, it was not like a child throwing a tantrum. But more like a calm, yet energetic rant.

Though it still had an emotional effect on her, she clearly needed to vent, evident by the way her eyes welled up with unshed tears. How long it has been this way was unclear.

Yet she did not wipe them away, Ramilia could only stare into the eyes of the older Asari, showing her hurt.

“And in situations like this, people refuse to take me seriously on account of my youth. It hurts T’mara, I just want to do something I can call my own.” The tears started spilling over and trickling down her cheeks, all the while her voice was threatening to break.

Ramilia finally suffered herself to wipe her eyes, she took a deep, shaky breath to calm herself.

T’mara only observed her with a calm demure, not wanting to disturb the emotionally unstable girl. Like a nature documentary team not intervening to save a dying animal, for fear of interrupting natures course.

“It hurts T’mara.” She said quietly, hanging her head dejectedly. Wringing her fingers and hands as the emotional turmoil continued to brew, bubbling, and sizzling away inside of her, like meat on hot metal.

“I understand. They treat you as though you are but a mere child, dismissing everything you say or do.”

She looked up at that little remark. She did feel as though this was the case, in fact, it was much like that at times. She is so tired of letting it show.

“I may only be a hundred and twelve, but I like to think my council and intelligence belies my years. As I have been told by many who know me.”

Her voice was more composed upon this latest sentence of speaking, though her face still bore the signs of her emotional pain.

The older of the two Asari nodded. Her elbows now on the desk, hands clasping together, fingers lacing through the gaps to meet. All the while, she stared hard, deep in thought.

“Have you ever reached out to your mother for support? Both in terms of emotional and in pursuit of your goals, I mean.” She asked respectively.

T’Bannara shook her head lightly. “No, I wanted to earn my spot without her aid, despite how helpful I know it would have been.”

“I see, how does she feel about you wanting to pursue this path?”

“She is supportive of my decision, though she wish’s I would join the Asari military as a commando. If only so I learn enough to defend myself, despite the fact I am taking lessons from her and learned much already.”

“An understandable wish, that your child knows how to protect themselves, is a completely rational wish to have.” She said as she started to things up on the orange holographic terminal again, equally diving up her attention between conversing with Ramilia, and what she was writing.

“That may be, though she has even gone to such incredible lengths to improve my biotic potential as well.” She said with a rub on her tired eyes, a slight tiny sting to the action due to the recent tears she had shed.

T’mara looked up at that, her attention now back to the young woman. “In what way? Implants? Meditation lessens?”

“That and more, her connections and pension have yielded some impressive results.” She said, a flicker of pride slipping into her tone of voice.

“I guess commandos do earn themselves some favours over the course of their careers.” T’mara said, looking the maiden up and down in a different way this time. “But they usually end up owing a lot more.”

She finished with a slight smirk.

Ramilia was nor a weak or frail thing, the matron realised.

But rather, a young woman in fit physical and mental shape. Her arms -while not overtly muscular- were showing a level of fitness that complimented her overall healthy form, courtesy of her mother’s lessons no doubt.

Ramilia nodded her agreement. “One my mother has paid in full.” She said grimly. Her eyes wandering to the papers laid out on the desk.

The papers she and T’mara had used, wrinkled and messy after the vigorous fanning they had been used for.

Her mind drifted towards her mother. She often wondered how she got her scars and near blindness.

She was aware it was due to a mission gone wrong, and when she looked them… she could only assume the mixture of burns and cuts were likely the result of her surviving an explosion of sorts.

Her heart often lurched, the sight of how much it limited her mother’s ability to do things. Even the witnessing of people’s reactions to her facial scars, angered her when they showed fear and revulsion at the sight of her.

Was that the gratitude she had earned? All the blood she would have shed, the pain endured, the actions she would have taken? All tossed to the side because her mother be deemed less desirable because of a few scars and trouble seeing?

If that’s what Ramilia could expect for her contribution as an Asari commando, then she only had more reason to not join up.

If the people were willing to forge her deeds that easily, if she ended up like her mother, then anyone that vain did not deserve to have her fight for them.

Now she knew, as a commando, only Asari would understand what being a commando would mean, unless of course she encountered another person who had served in their races military.

Turian military, and members of the Salarian special tasks group, often were aware of just how dangerous these women were. As Turians say: “The Asari commandos are the finest soldiers in the galaxy. So, it is fortunate, there are not many of them.”

There was also the matter of the council… for if Ramilia truly distinguished herself as a commando, then what would stand in their way of asking her to join the spectres?

Considering the tales told as rumours about the council spectres, in her eyes they were much too secretive and powerful for her liking. Too high above the law, and she would not find it hard to believe they used their positions to free spectres when imprisoned for atrocities, and covered up evidence of their operations or any part they played while destroying incriminating evidence that would paint them, and the council in a negative light.

That is partly why she so desperately wanted to have this position, he would often look toward the stars, hoping that she might make her place in history for discovering a new species.

It was childish, she admitted. The chances of her even finding another alien civilisation are astronomical as it is, let alone a sentient one advanced enough to travel across the vast distances of space.

But she supposed she could settle for a planetary system or asteroid belt being named after her. The famous T’Bannara system.

Yes, she liked the sound of that.

“But let’s gt back to the interview. I fear we have wasted too much time as it is.” T’mara said, stretching with a yawn.

“I want to try and wrap this up before the day ends, so how about we do just that?”

“I would very much like that as well T’mara.” Ramilia replied, smiling sweetly as she sat up straight and pulled the sleeves from the desk back onto her arms.

More time past, both women talked in matters both professional and personal.

The young Asari could not tell how much of a good impression she had made.

She hoped it was enough to be remembered, when those funding this little expedition, began to select who to include on this journey.

She had a variety of skills that should be deemed desirable for something such as this.

Aside from her commando training. Her mother has taught her survivalist skills, how to pilot a shuttle, and gifted her with a plethora of tips and tricks she can use with her biotic and natural abilities.

One of her favourites being the ability to share and transfer memories with another. Her mother had performed this on Ramilia several times, teaching her how to do this for herself.

This was how Ramilia’s other skills were also taught as well. But mother said these things were like muscles, unless she worked at them, the memories and skills shared were going to atrophy and fade away, like ink on paper.

Time continued to pass, until eventually the meeting had to draw to a close. Both women stood up, wished each other good luck in their professions, and said their farewells.

The realisations of the time to part surprised Ramilia. She had been so caught up in listing off all her talents inside her head, that it completely snuck up on her.

As she thought on this on her way home, she couldn’t help but ponder doubts that had started to swim inside her mind.

She believed she had little hope for her actual chances, on account of her poor behaviour. She knew mother would disapprove of her behaviour and say that Ramilia must have composed herself in a better manner. Now her rude and emotional antics may have just cost her this golden opportunity.

She sighed. “Only time will now tell.” She said. Her hear heavy as she made her way towards home.

A Fallen star from another world. Chapter: 1 end.

Description

A fallen star from another world. Ch: 1.

{Warning! Explicit Language in some parts}
“Ramilia T’Bannara.” Came the voice of the Asari matron sitting behind the desk, her eyes boring into the maiden with such a fierce intensity, she griped the fabric of her dress nervously.

The woman took her eyes off the younger woman once she was satisfied she had her attention fixed upon her again.

Ramilia silently cursed herself for daydreaming, and tried harder to pay attention to what the matron was saying.

The flicker and fluttering of pages were easily heard as the older woman behind the desk was quickly skimming through them all, no doubt trying to find something in particular she had read. The asari would have already been through it once or twice already as the day for this interview came up, though Ramilia was now beginning to have second thoughts about sending in her résumé with paper instead of using a terminal.

Ramilia had decided to send in her résumé, cover letter, and application for employment using paper. She elected to use ink and pens, she believed that someone should keep the old ways of doing things alive. She was of the strong opinion that far too often did people abandon something or other, in search for something that was supposedly “the next great step in progress!”

Ramilia would often scoff at those that tried to convince her to join in that regard. “Progress? More like the next great step in convenience and laziness!” She would reply when she was accused of being too deeply set in her ways. When in her eyes, she was simply not as easily impressed as most others were when it came to these ‘great steps in progress!’

The older Asari finally stopped rifling through the pages, pulling a couple of them out and laying them out flat on the desk, to which Ramilia let out a tense breath.

She had seen the papers she had withdrawn and was dreading what was to come next, it was a paper concerning her relations.

“Your mother, was a former commando is she not?” She tapped the stack of pages to straighten them, before laying it on a pile to one side of the desk, picking up the ones she needed for this very occasion.

She nodded. In truth, she bore no ill will for her mother. It was just that she hated how everyone who did a background check on her, always had the pedantic need to bring up her family. Never failing to test her patience.

“Yes, though she now spends her time working on hobbies. Such as creating art pieces and writing books, though her eyesight is understandably poor on account of her injuries.”

The woman behind the desk nodded and waved her hand over a small blue light near the edge of said desk, to her right near the corner.

A bright orange holographic projection came to life in the form of a screen almost immediately, and another taking the shape of a keyboard appeared to on the far side to her left. The board itself was completely flat and horizontal, with small square like shapes covering it, each occupied by a little symbol inside each of them.

The matron aged Asari gave another wave of her hand. The holographic board swiftly hovered over to be in front of her. She began typing, words slowly appearing on the screen to form sentences.

Ramilia took the moment to look outside the wall spanning window and take in the remarkable sight and state of the presidium.

She drank in the sight of the healthy green grass, the way the blue ponds and lakes sparkled under the artificial light of the citadel as sky cars soundlessly followed the curvature of the presidium.

She looked down to where the residents of the citadels best wandered it’s clean and well looked after streets, no doubt in Ramilia’s mind that a good number of them were probably diplomats, emissaries, or politicians of one kind or another. Of course, they could also just be a number of wealthy citizens who can afford the luxuries of the presidium.

There was just no way of knowing from here.

Ramilia took in a breath, she intended to speak her mind and get something off her chest. She picked her words carefully, not wanting to offend the very woman who may be her only shot at landing this position.

“Ms T’mara.” She began with straightening her back to appear more confident. “I am well aware that in being the daughter of a former commando is a legitimate cause for investigation of my family and personal background, especially with-”

“Let me just stop you there miss Ramilia. I understand that constant inquiries of this nature, can be tiresome and unpleasant at times. But this does not excuse you of having to through them for the sake of security.”

Ramilia felt her teeth clenching as she endured her sound rebuking for her words. She knew it was a matter of security of course, yet that still made it no less intolerable to endure.

She only nodded in the end, not wanting to escalate the issue any further. Instead they both decided to quietly let the issue drop, however, Ms T’mara did leave the subject of Ramilia’s family background behind… for now at least.

So, she wasn’t as bad or unfeeling as her initial assumptions and observations of stoic and demure personality would have led her to believe.

The interview went on, plenty of questions were asked and answered, many of which tended to be only brought up to confirm something Ms T’mara had read from Ramilia’s papers.

The temperature of the room had risen over the duration of the interview, both Asari eventually had become so hot, bothered, and distracted by this, they simply put the interview on hold.

Both women fanned at themselves with paper that T’mara kept for writing purposes, the younger of the two women was quite surprised to see the matron in possession of her own papers and raised her brow quizzically once the pages were produced from a desk drawer.

“You are not the only person who approves of ink and paper.” T’mara smiled, puffing her cheeks and exhaling, a bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of her nose and dropped off the end, plopping onto the table.

There was no balconies or windows that they could open, this office had no need for them when the building possessed its own form of environmental control systems to maintain and control the temperature of the building… obviously it was on the frits and the occupants were now suffering because of it.

Ramilia pulled off the elbow length sleeves she wore on her arms as part of her dress, the sleeves had a small ring of fabric that looped around her middle finger to help keep them in place, while the rest stayed put from being tight enough for her arms to snuggly fit into. The material was beginning to become moist from absorbing the sweat that the sleeves were producing, only further agitating her until she removed them and left them folded up on the desk.

The dress itself covered her entire body from her shoulder, to her feet. A split in the dress went from her neck, down towards her naval, while a PVC like material made to look sort of like webs at first glance rested within the split itself, partially covering her exposed skin.

The idea was so it would serve a similar purpose to a suture on an open wound, holding the fabric of her dress together, stopping her clothed from falling off her body.

A well-placed piece of the PVC webbing like material also formed a bridge, connecting the opposing sides together, the strategic positioning also covering her cleavage, denying them the luxury of seeing the gap that would still be visible, even if her breasts themselves were covered.

“If anyone currently has my curiosity piqued, it has to be you.” T’mara said between heavy breaths. Her hand hot and clammy, she kept fanning herself, the fleetingly short gusts of wind doing precious little to alleviate her of the heat.

“Tell me miss T’Bannara, why are you so interested in participating on a deep space expedition? You are still so young, and well within your maiden years, why choose this instead of the many other options that are available to you.” The older Asari spoke with a serious tone, yet it also betrayed a sense of curiosity, exploring uncharted space is no safe task, the Rachni were classic example. She wanted to know what would cause such a young maiden to pursue such things.

Ramilia looked at the older women with a scowl. “And what ‘other opportunities’ would those be?” She pretended to muse. “You mean opportunities where I can follow in my mother’s footsteps and become a commando like everyone seems to expect me to do?”

T’mara wanted to wince. Right away she realised she had struck a sensitive nerve, benefits of studying psychology like her job required.

“Or perhaps I could go and shake my ass off inside a sleazy, filthy dump of a bar somewhere in the Terminus system? Then again, I could go to Illium and join the eclipse, kill someone who probably doesn’t even deserve it just so I could earn the uniform and traffic illegal goods, like stolen mechs and weapons, maybe even the occasional shipment of red sand perhaps?”

T’mara nodded understandingly. She knew that Ramilia was currently just blowing off some repressed anger, that seemed to have been building up for quite some time.

“Then again I could just be like most maidens and just go out partying. Getting drunk every night, taking Halix as I shamelessly take others to my bed.” Ramilia would have continued, if not for the timely intervention of the ventilations systems. Serving as a way of saying she need not continue.

Cool, fresh air flowed into the office. But neither Asari seemed to notice as both women stared at the other, no words were spoken. Ramilia was breathing a little harder from her outburst, it was not like a child throwing a tantrum. But more like a calm, yet energetic rant.

Though it still had an emotional effect on her, she clearly needed to vent, evident by the way her eyes welled up with unshed tears. How long it has been this way was unclear.

Yet she did not wipe them away, Ramilia could only stare into the eyes of the older Asari, showing her hurt.

“And in situations like this, people refuse to take me seriously on account of my youth. It hurts T’mara, I just want to do something I can call my own.” The tears started spilling over and trickling down her cheeks, all the while her voice was threatening to break.

Ramilia finally suffered herself to wipe her eyes, she took a deep, shaky breath to calm herself.

T’mara only observed her with a calm demure, not wanting to disturb the emotionally unstable girl. Like a nature documentary team not intervening to save a dying animal, for fear of interrupting natures course.

“It hurts T’mara.” She said quietly, hanging her head dejectedly. Wringing her fingers and hands as the emotional turmoil continued to brew, bubbling, and sizzling away inside of her, like meat on hot metal.

“I understand. They treat you as though you are but a mere child, dismissing everything you say or do.”

She looked up at that little remark. She did feel as though this was the case, in fact, it was much like that at times. She is so tired of letting it show.

“I may only be a hundred and twelve, but I like to think my council and intelligence belies my years. As I have been told by many who know me.”

Her voice was more composed upon this latest sentence of speaking, though her face still bore the signs of her emotional pain.

The older of the two Asari nodded. Her elbows now on the desk, hands clasping together, fingers lacing through the gaps to meet. All the while, she stared hard, deep in thought.

“Have you ever reached out to your mother for support? Both in terms of emotional and in pursuit of your goals, I mean.” She asked respectively.

T’Bannara shook her head lightly. “No, I wanted to earn my spot without her aid, despite how helpful I know it would have been.”

“I see, how does she feel about you wanting to pursue this path?”

“She is supportive of my decision, though she wish’s I would join the Asari military as a commando. If only so I learn enough to defend myself, despite the fact I am taking lessons from her and learned much already.”

“An understandable wish, that your child knows how to protect themselves, is a completely rational wish to have.” She said as she started to things up on the orange holographic terminal again, equally diving up her attention between conversing with Ramilia, and what she was writing.

“That may be, though she has even gone to such incredible lengths to improve my biotic potential as well.” She said with a rub on her tired eyes, a slight tiny sting to the action due to the recent tears she had shed.

T’mara looked up at that, her attention now back to the young woman. “In what way? Implants? Meditation lessens?”

“That and more, her connections and pension have yielded some impressive results.” She said, a flicker of pride slipping into her tone of voice.

“I guess commandos do earn themselves some favours over the course of their careers.” T’mara said, looking the maiden up and down in a different way this time. “But they usually end up owing a lot more.”

She finished with a slight smirk.

Ramilia was nor a weak or frail thing, the matron realised.

But rather, a young woman in fit physical and mental shape. Her arms -while not overtly muscular- were showing a level of fitness that complimented her overall healthy form, courtesy of her mother’s lessons no doubt.

Ramilia nodded her agreement. “One my mother has paid in full.” She said grimly. Her eyes wandering to the papers laid out on the desk.

The papers she and T’mara had used, wrinkled and messy after the vigorous fanning they had been used for.

Her mind drifted towards her mother. She often wondered how she got her scars and near blindness.

She was aware it was due to a mission gone wrong, and when she looked them… she could only assume the mixture of burns and cuts were likely the result of her surviving an explosion of sorts.

Her heart often lurched, the sight of how much it limited her mother’s ability to do things. Even the witnessing of people’s reactions to her facial scars, angered her when they showed fear and revulsion at the sight of her.

Was that the gratitude she had earned? All the blood she would have shed, the pain endured, the actions she would have taken? All tossed to the side because her mother be deemed less desirable because of a few scars and trouble seeing?

If that’s what Ramilia could expect for her contribution as an Asari commando, then she only had more reason to not join up.

If the people were willing to forge her deeds that easily, if she ended up like her mother, then anyone that vain did not deserve to have her fight for them.

Now she knew, as a commando, only Asari would understand what being a commando would mean, unless of course she encountered another person who had served in their races military.

Turian military, and members of the Salarian special tasks group, often were aware of just how dangerous these women were. As Turians say: “The Asari commandos are the finest soldiers in the galaxy. So, it is fortunate, there are not many of them.”

There was also the matter of the council… for if Ramilia truly distinguished herself as a commando, then what would stand in their way of asking her to join the spectres?

Considering the tales told as rumours about the council spectres, in her eyes they were much too secretive and powerful for her liking. Too high above the law, and she would not find it hard to believe they used their positions to free spectres when imprisoned for atrocities, and covered up evidence of their operations or any part they played while destroying incriminating evidence that would paint them, and the council in a negative light.

That is partly why she so desperately wanted to have this position, he would often look toward the stars, hoping that she might make her place in history for discovering a new species.

It was childish, she admitted. The chances of her even finding another alien civilisation are astronomical as it is, let alone a sentient one advanced enough to travel across the vast distances of space.

But she supposed she could settle for a planetary system or asteroid belt being named after her. The famous T’Bannara system.

Yes, she liked the sound of that.

“But let’s gt back to the interview. I fear we have wasted too much time as it is.” T’mara said, stretching with a yawn.

“I want to try and wrap this up before the day ends, so how about we do just that?”

“I would very much like that as well T’mara.” Ramilia replied, smiling sweetly as she sat up straight and pulled the sleeves from the desk back onto her arms.

More time past, both women talked in matters both professional and personal.

The young Asari could not tell how much of a good impression she had made.

She hoped it was enough to be remembered, when those funding this little expedition, began to select who to include on this journey.

She had a variety of skills that should be deemed desirable for something such as this.

Aside from her commando training. Her mother has taught her survivalist skills, how to pilot a shuttle, and gifted her with a plethora of tips and tricks she can use with her biotic and natural abilities.

One of her favourites being the ability to share and transfer memories with another. Her mother had performed this on Ramilia several times, teaching her how to do this for herself.

This was how Ramilia’s other skills were also taught as well. But mother said these things were like muscles, unless she worked at them, the memories and skills shared were going to atrophy and fade away, like ink on paper.

Time continued to pass, until eventually the meeting had to draw to a close. Both women stood up, wished each other good luck in their professions, and said their farewells.

The realisations of the time to part surprised Ramilia. She had been so caught up in listing off all her talents inside her head, that it completely snuck up on her.

As she thought on this on her way home, she couldn’t help but ponder doubts that had started to swim inside her mind.

She believed she had little hope for her actual chances, on account of her poor behaviour. She knew mother would disapprove of her behaviour and say that Ramilia must have composed herself in a better manner. Now her rude and emotional antics may have just cost her this golden opportunity.

She sighed. “Only time will now tell.” She said. Her hear heavy as she made her way towards home.

A Fallen star from another world. Chapter: 1 end.