For Day 3: Darkest Moments, Brightest Lights, I’m cheating and reposting from my Reyes/Aria T’Loak origin story. This is the story of how Reyes became the dark and dangerous Charlatan we all love. 

Back in the year 2183 C. E…

An unearthly-sounding scream pierced Reyes Vidal’s ears. The pain was so intense that it took a moment for Reyes to realize that the scream he’d heard was his own. He gasped, sweat dripping down his face onto the metal table, then forced himself to inhale through his nose, trying to focus on his breathing instead of the white-hot agony of his back.

For the hundredth time, Reyes wondered how his corporal could have gotten things so wrong. Their mission was top-secret, known only to Admiral Anderson and the squad. But Reyes had barely had time to land the shuttle on Omega before the rest of his squad was bodily dragged out by a handful of mercs.

I guess I should consider myself lucky that I avoided getting beaten for as long as I did on this shithole of a station, he thought bitterly. Then words and cohesive thought left him as another searing streak of pain lashed across his back.

One day earlier…

Reyes flew the shuttle with focused concentration, listening vaguely to his squadmates joking around as they approached Omega. He’d never been one for participating in the usual pre-mission banter, though he found it comforting. Instead of ribbing with the others, Reyes reviewed what they knew about their current mission.

It was an unusual mission, that much was certain. Admiral Anderson had specifically contacted his squad leader, Corporal Ming Gojevic, for a mission that was to be kept secret even from the Council. Anderson had allegedly received word that the de facto ruler of Omega, a former asari commando named Aria T’Loak, had intel about a major threat to humanity – something about some group called the Collectors. Gojevic’s squad was tasked with obtaining the information from Aria, with the alibi of being on Omega to recover a shipment of Alliance-class weapons that had been stolen by a small-time criminal group called the Talons.

Privately, Reyes was skeptical about the validity of the mission, and his skepticism wasn’t much relieved when Gojevic informed the squad that Anderson’s source was a Prothean academic. What a Prothean professor has to do with galactic security is beyond me, but also beyond my pay grade, I guess, Reyes thought to himself.

Reyes had lost count of the number of intel-gathering missions he had completed. It was unusual for a shuttle pilot to become an intelligence officer, and Reyes had largely fallen into the role by accident. Alliance training seemed so long ago now – what was it, nine years ago? Ten? – but Reyes had first stood out among his cohort specifically by not standing out. Unlike many soldiers, Reyes had been reserved, unassuming, and watchful. He was a chameleon, blending into any group without drawing notice for being too talkative or too quiet. He’d excelled at pilot training and mechanics, but nobody knew it since Reyes never talked about himself. He had a way of deflecting attention even when his skills were well above average. As a result, he’d gotten himself noticed by a recon officer, Jen Tahashi, who had persuaded him to get recon training and then to join Gojevic’s intel gathering team as a double-duty shuttle pilot/intel officer.

Nine (or was it ten?) years and countless missions later, Reyes had enough experience to notice that this mission felt different somehow. The Citadel was still reeling from the great battle that had taken place just a few months ago, and Reyes suspected that the pervasive anxiety and paranoia on the Citadel were affecting the administration’s critical thinking skills… including Anderson’s decision to take the tip for this current mission seriously. But Gojevic was definitely taking the mission seriously; Reyes had never seen her so quiet and still during a rideout. She usually liked to joke along with the squad in order to engender good humour and teamwork before the mission.

As they zipped within hailing distance of Omega, Gojevic turned to the small squad of only four people, including Reyes and Gojevic herself. “Okay, listen up,” she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “This mission might sound frivolous, but believe me when I say the stakes are high. Now, we can’t hide that we’re Alliance; but we do this as quickly and politely as possible. You know about Aria T’Loak from the briefings; you know she is not to be trifled with.” Gojevic stared at the squad until they all nodded at her, including Reyes. “Good. Remember, small arms and blades only. We don’t want to present a threat.”

Reyes eyes his flight control display and frowned. They were 5 minutes from docking, and he hadn’t yet received a hail from Omega’s docking bay. That’s unusual, he thought, and pointed it out to Gojevic. “Not sure whether protocols are more casual on this station, given its reputation,” he added.

Gojevic pursed her lips and shook her head. “Unfortunately, I’m not familiar enough with this place to know what their usual protocol is. Let’s just land, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Reyes nodded a sharp affirmative and smoothly settled the shuttle in the docking bay. The other two team members, Adhira Kaur and Deshawn Andrews, unstrapped their safety restraints and stood. But before Reyes could do anything more than unstrap himself from his seat, there was a loud banging on the shuttle door.

Gojevic looked at Reyes in alarm, and gave one sharp nod. Immediately, Kaur and Andrews stepped to the periphery of the shuttle, and Reyes slid into the passenger area of the shuttle. He pulled a lever at the bottom of the seat that Kaur had just vacated, and the seat tilted back by 90 degrees. Reyes lifted a hidden panel under the seat, revealing a hidden compartment. He swiftly slid into the compartment, and one of his teammates closed the compartment, enclosing Reyes in darkness.

There was a second round of banging on the shuttle door, and then a deep batarian voice barked, “Open up!” Reyes closed his eyes for a second, grateful for the hidden compartments that had recently been installed in all Alliance recon shuttles. This was only the second time Reyes had had to use it, though. He could either exit the compartment from the way he got in, or via a narrow passage that emerged at the starboard base of the shuttle, on the opposite side as the door. Reyes dearly hoped he would be able to get out the way he got in.

Reyes heard the shuttle door open, and then heavy footsteps entering the shuttle… A lot of footsteps. “Excuse me! What do you think you’re-” Gojevic’s voice was cut off by the distinctive thudding noise that accompanied a blunt strike to the abdomen. “Shut the fuck up,” the batarian voice said. Kaur’s voice then floated to Reyes’ ears: “Get your hands off me!” Reyes’ heart rate doubled as he heard the sharp crack of a slap, followed by a squeal of pain. There was a brisk shuffling noise, two more heavy thuds, a loud thump that sounded like a body hitting the floor, and then a brief silence. “Get them out of here,” the batarian voice said. “Aria will know about this soon. We need the information before she raids the HQ again.”

There was a grunted affirmative, and then heavy sliding noises… likely the sounds of his squad being dragged off to the HQ of whoever had taken them out. Reyes felt a slow trickle of sweat drip down his nose. He continued to breathe silently through his mouth until the sound of footsteps completely disappeared. Well, this is a clusterfuck, he thought. He was now stuck waiting in the shuttle’s hidden compartment until it was safe to emerge and blend into the general population on Omega… and that would likely take hours. Reyes slowly and silently slid his left arm up until he could see his watch. The time was 13:07. Reyes gave an internal sigh, and forced his muscles to relax. Need to prevent cramps and stay mobile… This might end up being a rescue mission as well as intel-gathering. In all recon missions, the primary goal was always to recover the intel, but given the unprecedented attack, Reyes was fairly sure he would get a slap on the wrist if he didn’t at least try to rescue his entire squad. He smirked faintly; he never failed to amuse himself, especially in high-pressure situations.

The hours crept by as slowly as an elcor production of Hamlet. Reyes alternated between meditative breathing to master his nerves – a skill which he’d mastered when he was a young teenager – and listening curiously to the dockside chatter, picking up tidbits of local news. He managed to hear a comment from some idiot about the Blue Suns’ new prisoners… and now I know who to look for to find Gojevic and the others, he thought. But Reyes couldn’t figure out why a merc gang would attack an Alliance shuttle so brutally and without provocation.

Reyes was also interested in people’s thoughts about the notorious Aria T’Loak. Everything Reyes knew about Aria was from the briefing on this mission, and it wasn’t much, but the opinions of the dock’s denizens were enough to pique his curiosity. Aria seemed to elicit very polarized feelings in the populace: devotion and hatred, terror and admiration, and above all, caution.

At around 05:00, the noises on the docking bay had largely settled, and Reyes felt it would be safe to finally exit the shuttle. Slowly and painstakingly, he slid along the length of the compartment to the hidden exit on the starboard side. He pulled up his omni-tool and scanned for heat signatures: none nearby. Reyes slowly slid the hidden door open, waited for one minute, then slid out of the compartment. Slowly, silently, he rose to his feet, and seeing nobody in the vicinity, he slid into the nearest bank of shadows and quietly made his way towards the slums. He laid low there until the marketplace opened.

******************

The night cycle was in full swing on Omega, and the station was twice as lively as it was during the day. Reyes, dressed in rumpled civvy clothes, stood in the lineup for a club called Afterlife, chatting and joking with a turian weapons merchant and his human business partner. Reyes was playing the part of the good-natured doofus Alliance lackey, on shore leave on big-and-bad Omega, and his acting seemed successful so far: the merchant, who had sold weapons to Aria’s people on multiple occasions, had already mentioned the name of Aria’s right-hand man – one Anto Korragan – and where exactly in Afterlife she could be found. Reyes continued to banter with the merchants until the elcor bouncer finally let him in.

Reyes bade farewell to his new friends and strolled to the bar. He ordered a whiskey and made some idiotic comment to the bartender about the dancing talent. Then he leaned against the bar, drinking his whiskey and gazing around in apparent wonder. In reality, he was checking the security level in the bar… and fuck, is it heavy. There were heavily armed guards at every entrance. And at the raised dais, where Aria was allegedly situated, there were at least four guards that he could see. Reyes had no intention of pulling his weapons if he could avoid it, but he wanted to at least know what he’d be up against if it came to that. Definitely not a situation where I want to take my chances.

Reyes had just finished his whiskey and was deciding how to approach Aria when he suddenly felt the muzzle of a small gun in his back. He closed his eyes in resignation. Fuck’s sake. This is just one disaster after another, he thought as he slowly turned to face his assailant. A small asari dancer, whom Reyes had completely overlooked, was smiling flirtatiously at him, but her eyes were hard and cold as marbles as she kept the gun leveled at his liver. “Aria would like to make your acquaintance,” she murmured in a faux-sexy voice. Reyes managed to smile charmingly at the dancer. “Aria T’Loak? I’m a huge fan. It must be my lucky day.”

The dancer gave a nasty laugh and pushed the muzzle firmly into his abdomen under the guise of pressing herself against him sensually. “A smartass, eh? You’ll watch your fucking mouth or Aria will cut it off for you.” She gave him a small push in the direction of the dais, her tiny pistol still pointed at him. Sighing, Reyes walked towards the dais, ignored by the club’s partying clientele.

He slowly walked up the dais, noting that there were actually eight guards on Aria’s dais alone. If she can afford to have this many men in this club right now, how many does she have on the station in total? he wondered incredulously. A batarian guard scanned Reyes with his omni-tool, and the omni-tool beeped twice as it identified the knife sheathed on his belt and the small pistol at the small of his back… but the guard didn’t relieve Reyes of his weapons. This made him more nervous than reassured. This woman isn’t intimidated by weapons. The guard jerked his head in Aria’s direction, a silent order for Reyes to step forward. And finally, at the top of the dais, he got his first glimpse of Omega’s Pirate Queen.

Aria T’Loak was short – almost a foot shorter than Reyes – but her small frame exuded a krogan battlemaster’s worth of power. Her asari curves were wrapped in a skintight black bodysuit with tantalizing cutouts that forcibly – and distractingly – reminded Reyes of bondage gear, but her broad-shouldered white jacket neutralized the sexiness and added to her mien of authority. Her upright posture spoke of confidence, and the tilt of her chin and her folded arms screamed cold, hard power. There was no doubt in Reyes’ mind that this woman was a force to be reckoned with.

Aria kept her back to him and continued to watch the goings-on in the club as though she had all the time in the world. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him, and her gaze was ice cold and bored as fuck. “You’re with the Alliance,” she said; it was a statement, not a question. The voice matched the woman: smooth as silk, ice cold, and completely controlled.

Reyes was fairly sure that Aria would see through his idiot-Alliance-boy persona in two seconds, but he had to give it a try. He smiled broadly at her and gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am! First time on shore leave on Omega. I can’t believe I’m meeting you on my first time here!”

“Cut the shit,” she said coolly, a tiny hint of impatience in her voice. She then turned to face him. “I know you came here with a little squad of do-gooders on a shuttle yesterday afternoon. I have your people.” She raised one eyebrow at him, gauging his reaction.

Hmm, Reyes thought, Looks like that Blue Suns thug was right about Aria raiding their HQ. Reyes gave up the doofus act abruptly, his face falling into a completely neutral expression. He straightened out of his casual, loose posture and adopted an at-ease stance. Aria was clearly far too intelligent to fool with simple deception. “That’s correct. We came on a mission.”

Aria tilted her head slightly, her face still cool and expressionless. Then, to Reyes’ surprise, she said, “Does this have anything to do with that T’Soni bitch?”

Reyes didn’t move a muscle, not on his body, not on his face. He even continued to breathe normally. But his mind was racing. Shit. How does she know? he thought. His squad had their alibi, and all intel officers were extensively trained in dissembling and deception. If one of them had actually cracked and told their real reason for being there… The mission is compromised, he thought, his stomach dropping in dread both at the thought of failure, but also at the unwelcome question: What did she have to do to get our real purpose out of the squad?

To Reyes’ dismay, Aria seemed to have seen something in his face, because she turned away from him and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Lock him up. Interrogate him.”

Reyes opened his mouth to protest – what the fuck! – but before he could say a word, an electric shock pulsed over his body, seizing his breathing and his muscles. Suddenly, the floor was rushing towards his face and then-

***************

Aria stood at the wall of monitors in her office, watching the Alliance man being tortured. The Alliance man – a Terran named Reyes Vidal, according to his dog tags – howled in pain as one of Aria’s torturers, a turian named Cassian, lashed him a third time. So he’s affected by the conventional methods of torture, she thought impassively. Must be his first time in the chair. And yet, despite the four lashes to his back, he wasn’t a sobbing mess, and he wasn’t begging for mercy. That was something of a surprise. She watched the monitor more closely as Cassian delivered another blow of the whip to the Alliance officer’s back. He screamed, but then… Aria narrowed her eyes as she watched him, then drew back, a faint hint of a smile on her lips. He’s using meditative breathing to master the pain, she thought, with a twinge of approval. Breathing techniques and meditation were taught to asari children as a matter of course, but Aria knew that only certain humans from certain cultures learned them. Looks like this Reyes Vidal clown is one of them, she thought. Aria always made sure that her own people learned meditative breathing, specifically for this purpose: to withstand torture.

After Cassian delivered a sixth blow to the human’s back, she called him on her omni-tool. “Stop,” she said flatly. “I’m coming down.” Aria didn’t wait for a reply before ending the call. She turned away from the monitors and headed towards her holding cells in the sub-basement of Afterlife. If he’s new to torture but not sobbing for mercy after six lashes, I won’t get anything from him by submitting him to further pain. Seeing another human in pain, on the other hand…

She walked leisurely, her casual stroll contrasting with her rapidly shifting thoughts. Aria had known that telling that Liara T’Soni bitch about the Collectors and their mystery cargo might bring more trouble… but she hadn’t been expecting the Alliance to show up at her door. And she definitely hadn’t been expecting the Blue Suns to attack the Alliance berks before they’d even had time to try to suck up to her. You’d think that fistful of assholes would have learned their lesson after I destroyed their little meeting with the Collectors a few months ago. They’re getting cocky… These contracts they keep getting must be worth a hell of a lot for them to be willing to cross me.

It wouldn’t do for the Blue Suns to think they could kidnap whoever they pleased, especially if it had the potential of interfering with Aria’s other businesses. So Aria had reinforced her lesson in the early hours of the morning. Accompanied by Anto and another guard, she’d stormed the Blue Suns’ HQ and killed a third of their operatives with a single biotic blast before asking any questions. Then she’d taken the three Alliance hostages back to Afterlife with her, leaving a message with the surviving operatives: “Tell Tarak to call me. Immediately.” The Blue Suns’ leader had called her within the hour; by that time, the male Alliance berk had expired from wounds inflicted by Tarak’s thugs. She had told Tarak in no uncertain terms that he would keep his hands off any Alliance personnel unless expressly told otherwise by her. With a significant proportion of his operatives bleeding on the floor of the HQ, he had agreed. Like he had a fucking choice, Aria thought coldly as she descended the lift to the sub-basement.

Aria’s first stop was the cell containing the two remaining Alliance operatives, each with their hands cuffed and their feet loosely bound so they could walk but not run. Both operatives looked distinctly the worse for wear; they’d suffered a substantial beating at the hands of the Blue Suns, a beating that the male officer hadn’t survived.

Grizz, a faithful batarian, was standing guard over the two Alliance women. Aria jerked her chin wordlessly at the older woman, who seemed to be the leader of the squad from her age and stoic bearing. Grizz grabbed the woman and pulled her out of the cell. “Where are you taking her?” croaked the younger human, a woman with mocha-brown skin and a snotty, tear-stained face. “Quiet, Kaur,” the older woman said firmly.

“Yes, Kaur, be quiet,” Aria said lazily, not bothering to spare a glance at either woman’s face. She pulled the leader’s dog tags from her shirt and glanced at them. “Ming Gojevic. So, Ming. How do you feel about Kaur exposing your little secret mission? It’s a bit late for her to be quiet now.” Aria had learned (from a sobbing Blue Suns operative with only one remaining limb) that the younger woman had blabbed her squad’s mission the first 2 minutes of her beating. A complete amateur. I’m surprised the Alliance let her off the Citadel.

Ming didn’t answer Aria’s question, and when Aria finally deigned to look at her face, she was satisfied to see that the woman’s eyes were lowered in deference. Doesn’t want to piss me off. Respectful, at least. But also doesn’t want to talk. This was a pretty solid little recon squad, aside from the snitch in the cell. Too bad for the Alliance; this squad could have been very useful to them if they hadn’t tried to sneak around on my turf. Aria nodded to Grizz and set off towards Reyes’ cell without a backwards glance. She heard Grizz push the older woman roughly, and then the sound of her shuffling walk.

Just before Aria reached Reyes’ cell, she held up her hand to Grizz for him to stop and hold the prisoner. Then she nodded to Reyes’ guard, who opened the cell, and Aria stepped inside.

Reyes was seated on a stool at a sterile-looking metal table, his arms stretched in front of him and cuffed in place. His naked torso shone with sweat, and blood from the messy whip cuts on his back trickled down into the waistband of his pants. His head was bowed between his outstretched arms, and Aria could hear him continuing to take deep, even breaths through his nose. Her estimation of him increased further at this display of self-control. “Reyes Vidal,” she said, and Reyes lifted his head to look at her. Idly, she observed that he was quite handsome, even with his sweaty face drawn in pain: dark gold skin, unusual bronze eyes, nice lips. Only his boring bog-standard Alliance buzz cut detracted from his attractiveness. Aria was faintly amused that his face was completely expressionless, showing none of the pain he’d expressed through his tedious screaming.

Aria and Reyes stared at each other without speaking for a long, tense moment, until finally Aria raised one eyebrow sardonically. “Who sent you here?” she asked, her voice flat and cool.

Reyes continued to stare at her, unspeaking. The only sound in the room was his breathing and the soft occasional drip as his sweat hit the floor. Aria almost smiled. Impressive, she thought, but he’s just making it harder on himself. She snapped her fingers.

Grizz stepped into the cell behind her, dragging Gojevic with him, and flung Gojevic on the floor at Aria’s feet. Gojevic gasped with pain on impact with the floor, then struggled to her knees. Aria kept her eyes fixed on Reyes as she held out a hand to Grizz, and Grizz placed an M-11 Suppressor pistol in her palm.

Aria felt a cold thrill of satisfaction as this sequence of actions finally elicited a reaction from Reyes. His eyes widened slightly as they darted to Gojevic, then to the gun in Aria’s hand. Fucking humans, Aria thought snidely. They’re so transparent. Aria flicked off the safety and pointed the gun at Gojevic’s knee. “Let’s try this again,” she said smoothly. “Who sent you here?”

Reyes’ gaze flew back to Aria’s face, and she experienced a little thrill: his face was still neutral, but anger was starting to burn in those strange bronze eyes. And yet, he still said nothing. Aria gave a tiny bored shrug and shot Gojevic in the knee.

The gunshot echoed loudly in the tiny cell, as did Gojevic’s shriek of agony. But Aria continued to watch Reyes’ face. His jaw clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut at the woman’s scream, but still, still, he was silent. So stoic for a human so young, she thought with grudging respect. That’s something I can use. Aria slowly crouched down next to Gojevic, who was breathing raggedly on the floor… and pushed her index finger into the bloody bullet hole. Gojevic screamed again, and Reyes slammed his cuffed fists on the table, just once. “Fuck!” he burst out.

Aria removed her finger from the wound and wiped her hand carelessly on Gojevic’s shoulder. She rose slowly to her feet and twirled the Suppressor idly on one finger before levelling it at Gojevic’s head. “Ready to talk yet?”

Reyes looked at her, and Aria couldn’t help the tiny smirk that pulled up one corner of her mouth. His face was practically incandescent with rage, his teeth bared like an animal. No begging from this one, no pleading, just… rage. That, I can definitely use. “I have nothing to say to you,” he spat, his Spanish accent thickened with anger.

Aria shrugged. “Fine,” she said lazily, and Gojevic’s head slammed back as the Suppressor’s bullet hit home. Gojevic’s bleeding skull hit the ground with a sickening thud as Aria turned to Grizz and handed him the pistol. “Take him to Anto. Constant supervision, Level 1 security personnel only. Stitch him up and start orientation in three days.” Grizz nodded, then stepped out of the cell to make the call.

“Now what?” Reyes said, his voice raw from screaming, but otherwise flat and emotionless. Aria knew what he was really asking: whether she was going to kill him. She turned back to face him. “Now you’re stuck with me, little boy. You took the wrong fucking mission.” Over her shoulder, she called out, “Grizz! Send that Alliance girl back to the Citadel on the next ship. I have a message for them.” She turned back to Reyes, and for the first time, she smiled at him – a cold, reptilian smile that made his skin ripple in goosebumps.

“Tell them nobody fucks with Aria.”

If you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to check out the whole tale at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11041485?view_full_work=true

Art credits: Reyes pic from the ever-talented @life-is-no-sugarlicking​; Aria pic from http://fcbs.deviantart.com/art/Mass-Effect-3-Aria-T-Loak-425570673.