"I AM OMEGA!"
Slender ocean blue hands with palms and fingers paled by callouses fiddled with an omni-tool, and the device bleated an almost angry chirp.
"I-I-I-I-I-I AY-MMMM-A O-O-O-MEYGA!"
The voice shifted from its initially confident and commanding tone and distorted into a comical squeal, and it brought a toothy smile from the owner of the omni-tool from which it played.
Months earlier, if she had dared make Aria sound like a fool on Omega in public, then she would more than likely have ended up dead and tossed into the Eezo processing vats. But Omega - a modern renaming as an ode to romantic elements from Human culture - now had a suitable alpha to complete the name's Human adage.
That suitable alpha was the very reason that she was here once more, and the same reason why she could dare to, enjoy to, even, make Aria sound like a fool.
When the Master Chief, saviour of Omega, had departed quietly, so had she. Theia had jumped back to Thessia and found herself entirely sick of the burgeoning bureaucratic systems that she hadn't realised she'd grown to hate so thoroughly.
So she had done what many Asari dreamed of, but few ever thought prudently enough to do. She had given up her city life, given up striving toward some kind of long term future, and moved to one of the few remaining agricultural reserves on the homeworld to work the land like her ancestors had.
Her personal world had evolved the moment that she stepped foot onto the Serrice agro reserve district soil. Of course, Theia hadn't known to what extent, at the time, she had just thought that she had given up the trappings of her city, and technological, livelihood.
History was hidden in plain sight in Asari culture. Theia had never known that the agro-districts' permanent residents made up the majority of the remaining Athame worshippers. All Asari referenced Athame in everyday speech, and they all held the religion in its rightful place of respect for being the source of doctrines which had evolved into Siari. However, less than one per cent of the entire species still claimed to be Athame worshippers.
Theia had heard tell that the Asari Councillor on the Citadel was raised as an Athame worshiper, but had opted for a more neutral religious mindset later in life. Going by that knowledge, she had always just assumed that Athame worship dotted her peoples' populations across the galaxy randomly.
Of course, Theia had been incorrect in that presumption. When she had been welcomed by the local agricultural workers in the vineyards and shown her communal lodgings, the locals had explained their religious concepts in great depth and with startling alacrity.
Her initial fear had been that they would be trying to convert her – and maybe they had been... In a way, but it was on day three of her orientation into her new and much more placid life that she had firmly decided that she would not convert.
Her defiance toward shifting her ideologies was not due to any part of the local women's behaviour or beliefs; she had, after all, heard a smattering of their beliefs all through her life. Like most older religions of any species across the galaxy, it revolved around a wondrous entity which guided and protected, that entity contrasted something evil and dark, and to top it off, there was, of course, a saviour to come.
That was the long and short of what Theia knew of Athamiam religion, and she had ruefully admitted such to her hosts. They had almost condescendingly told her that she was yet to truly learn the legends of where Asari learnt to love from.
The result of that particular conversation had led to her being taken into their local temple on day three. Like most of the buildings that made up the small city, the temple was a simple affair and made of timber, rather than the Asari modern preference of plasticized concrete and steel composites.
