Jaerdi listened intently to the speech Tanya Carson gave. From the start he’d known this would be one of, if not the most extreme job he had done so far, and he had to make sure he knew every detail.

His eyes lit up at the mention of stealing a ship from Siame - grand theft starship was one of his favourite pastimes, as well as one of the jobs he often did on the side for a few extra credits and his usual means of procuring transport. He did have enough money to fly legally, or even own his own small ship, a shuttle or maybe a yacht, but it was just more fun to have a new ride every time he traveled. Sometimes he even put them back where he found them, though usually they suffered a fate similar to the shuttle he had used to get to Cartagena.

As the speech wore on though, and especially once the other members of what seemed to be his new team started speaking, a rather disturbing trend began to present itself. It seemed that the most common motivation for the other criminals to undertake such a difficult mission was revenge of some sort. They were here because they’d let it get personal. That rang a great many warning bells in Jaerdi’s head, and for a moment he considered walking out of the room there and then, only stopping to once again count the zeros on the sum of credits he would receive on successful completion of the job. Grudgingly, he decided to stay. The people here may be acting on their feelings, but at least he knew that. Though Jaerdi couldn’t perfectly predict what they’d do because of their feelings, he at least knew in advance that people would be unpredictable and screw things up for whatever personal reasons they had.

Despite that ‘little’ difficulty, Jaerdi had been considering his place in the operation from the moment he had heard the details. He had determined quickly that he didn’t want to be involved in the inevitably messy shootout that would occur on the hangar floor, even if it did mean he’d have to wait to get on the ship. That kind of engagement was not really his speciality, and there were many heavy hitting walking tanks in the room that would no doubt greatly enjoy the mess.

No, Jaerdi’s task presented itself when the Turian information broker Sleuth stood and asked for an escort. Jaerdi had heard of Sleuth before, even dealt with him from time to time when he had some useful intel to sell. To some extent he admired the man for doing business in a largely impartial, businesslike manner, but Jaerdi also had a tendency to doubt everyone around him. Most people had weak points that would cause them to take things personally, though whether Sleuths presence here indicated that he had fallen prey to this or whether he was just here to make sure business continued as usual remained to be seen.

Only once most of the others had chimed in, and he had chuckled at the blue Drells attempt to buy the team off with Krogan testicles, did Jaerdi speak his own mind. Rather than standing, like everyone else seemed to be doing, he remained seated comfortably and said, almost disinterestedly, “I’ll go with Sleuth.” He looked at the hunched over Turian “I can get you into the security hubs. I might even arrange a few mishaps for the locals along the way to keep C-Pat busy. Should be fun.” His voice was confident but he purposefully kept his wording vague. Wouldn’t want these people to know that he’d be improvising as he went.

For a moment, shock meant Kali could barely think. For a full minute, enough time for the others to chime in with their insights, she could do little more than listen and watch. They all seemed so calm, some even cheery, and yet to her it seemed they had all taken leave of their senses. She had thought their enterprise would be guided with the wisdom of career criminals - those who, presumably, had only survived so long in the dangerous underbelly of galactic society through caution and care. She had relied on their abundance of experience balancing her noticeable lack. Instead, she had been greeted with a plan that seemed as hurried as it was reckless. It had an attractive simplicity to it, true - even she could see how an overly complex or overwrought plan could go awry if but one cog in the machine failed - but even so...

Unlike her new companions, Kali did not scan each man or woman through the door. She simply knew them to be both experts in their fields and (mostly) morally dubious, and therefore dangerous. Instincts such as those - such as the habitual analysis of any newly-met players of these illicit games - would only be honed by time spent interacting with said players, and Kali's childhood on the Flotilla had not trained her in dealing with snakes, with the sly and the cunning. But she had lived on Omega, and was not blind enough to miss the hesitation in many of those around the table, even amongst those who stayed, despite their bravado and show of blasé calm. They knew this plan was risky - maybe even crazy.

In some ways, that reassured her.

Excluding her moral questions and doubts, her greatest concern regarding joining this patchwork crew of disjointed, conflicting individuals had been her inexperience. They knew more ways to take advantage of her than she knew ways to put together a combat drone, and her training prior to leaving home had not been designed to guard her against intentional, prolonged dealings with some of the worst scum in the galaxy. She knew no more of night-time raids and bloodstained battlegrounds than she did of sex and sin; in other words, not much. She was all but an innocent, but compared to those in this room she had a soul of gold and hands as purely white as theirs were blood red. The suddenness of this woman's plan had defied all her assumptions with cruel mirth, and until she had seen the doubt in the others' eyes she had felt the absence of her experience as keenly as a knife edge, convinced that she was in far over her head if her expectations were so far removed from the reality. Their uncertainty, their obvious unfamiliarity with the rapidity of this plan, gave her hope that she was not as clueless as she had briefly, but terribly, feared. Their uncertainty gave her surety, a thing she desperately needed at that moment - a moment in which she committed herself to a shadowed fate, and pledged her support to fighting an army.

The same tremulous but fierce determination that had filled her when she left the Flotilla settled within her chest again. Young, spirited and foolish, reminded of all that enthralled her about life away from the limitations of the Flotilla, and remembering the purpose of her rebellion after the swiftly-told but sad stories of the drell and her fellow quarian, she made her choice - and remained in her seat. She exhaled slowly, her mind made up. She was committed – and now that the choice was past her, all she could do was throw her lot in with those of the diverse group around her.

She resisted the urge to make a speech or declaration of support as the female drell had, however, despite her newfound dedication. Kali was wise enough at least to play her cards close to her chest, and now that her confidence had returned, she found it easier to veil her fear. She settled back into her seat, appraising those around the room for the first time as she contributed her two cents - shiny new copper where her compatriots' were corrupted, pitted and black from many a crime.

She could only hope her nervousness had not been too widely noticed, as she responded to the other quarian.

"I can handle myself in a fight, though I won't pretend to be a soldier, and I have enough experience with electronics to crack the systems on this heap of a station." She turned her head, speaking to the whole room now, trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about. She was green, an unknown sitting amongst legends of the Terminus. Her only chance of being taken seriously was to act as if she should be – yes, one's attitude is more instrumental in how they are treated than anything else. "With the salarian to guard our backs, and Sleuth, myself, and my fellow quarian to tackle the station's systems, we should be able to lock down the ship in both physical and communicative terms. It may also be worth seeing if we can send C-Pat on a merry chase around the station with false alarms. In my view, the less actual damage we have to do to keep them distracted, the better – for a multitude of reasons." She glanced at the salarian as she finished, though the motion may have been lost behind her tinted visor. She did not like the callousness with which he suggested fun in causing 'mishaps' for the station's residents, considering her motivation for joining this little venture was to protect the individuals and way of life of the Terminus.

It didn't take much to impress Saseen. A solid plan with the promise of adventure, presented with just a hint of bravado; it was more than enough to reel her in. She made no effort to hide her interest in Tanya's pitch, listening with clear interest and occasionally smiling and nodding. From the line "steal that fucking ship," they had her hooked. The chance to have a state of the art Corvette, manned by some of the most competent criminals in the galaxy, working together to bring down the pain in their collective sides? They couldn't keep Saseen away. Sure, at the back of her mind, she knew that it wouldn't actually be her ship, but that was a tiny issue she could worry about later.

The population of the room grew smaller as the speech went on. A hunched, sickly looking turian was the first to throw his lot in with the two in front. At first Saseen was rather skeptical, but even she'd heard the name 'Sleuth'. Seeing as how she was hardly in the information business, that was enough for her to be impressed. He requested that someone help to escort him, and somebody else take his things to the hangar. Saseen considered filling the latter request, as she definitely knew that she wanted to be in the hangar when the shit hit the fan. Additionally, she believed that she was the resident expert on boarding hostile ships.

The drell at the front, silent until then, spoke up to add a bit of oddly phrased motivation. She hadn't noticed his regression before; she'd been too focused on Tanya, and she wasn't exactly the observant sort to begin with. But she did notice that he was definitely the quiet sort. Not the kind of person she worked best with, if only because they were so opposite to her in personality, but if he worked well with someone like Tanya -who Saseen thus far judged to be rather similar to herself in temperament- maybe they could get along, too. Her first instinct was to volunteer herself for escorting the batarian, but he was probably right when he said that his captors should be human.

The others around the table volunteered themselves for various jobs. The female drell whom Saseen had taken a slight interest in earlier explained her motivations and then placed a cooler that apparently held three-fourths of a set of krogan balls on the table, offering them to the rest of he group. Saseen smiled at her. Poor kid, she thought. And she thought that her vendetta against Siame was personal. The same seemed to go for the quarian doctor. These observations made her feel better about the whole thing. The more reasons a comrade had to watch her back beyond credits, the better.

Realizing that she was one of the last among those who'd remained in the room to stay quiet, the asari spoke up. "You lot can call me Captain Zheene! Well, maybe not 'captain' anymore, since I'm out a ship and a crew," she shrugged, as if that were only a small setback to her pirating ways, "But hey, with any luck, we'll have a shiny new ship soon enough. I'm a biotic, and with my experience, I think I'd do best with the boarding party."

Henrik waited and listened to Carson's little speech. Inspiring? Somewhat. At least most people here wanted some good old-fashioned revenge against SI, even if some were green as grass and almost as easy to break. Henrik took particular note of C-Pat's rivalry with SI in the region's security issues - not that C-Pat was doing a good job around here to begin with, but that rivalry could be easily exploited to weaken both of them - setting up C-Pat against SI would be mutually destructive between the two organisations, and would allow people like Kovlov to go about their business unchecked in and around Cartagena. Henrik took out a piece of paper and noted the rivalry down. Could prove useful.

His attention was drawn when Tanya mentioned the heist of a starship belonging to SI itself. That was a kick in the teeth for SI - to have its own shipping turned against them was something that Ilya hadn't even tried to do - not that he would, the man was far too concerned with shedding blood for subterfuge like that - and it would certainly give them an advantage, particularly when it came to hitting various locations that would be important to SI. Furthermore, it provided a stable base of operations from which he could communicate with the various contacts he had and get work and intelligence from them. He already knew about this 'Titan Bank' on Illium, but he wasn't sure if that was relevant: Kovlov and The Widowmaker had yet to contact him if there were SI assets contained within. He looked about at the men and women who would form his future crew as Tanya explained the plan. Turian hacker. Human muscle man, like himself. Two batarians. Two quarians (two? he rarely saw 'one', let alone 2 of them), one of whom looked greener than the grasslands of Earth. Human pilot. Balanced crew, if Henrik said so himself. They were more than enough to take over one ship, and if necessary fight off 'discount C-Sec' as Carson had called them. Henrik nodded in approval after Tanya asked for support. Several others spoke up and explained they were in. Most of their speech could be boiled down to 'I hate SI and they need to die', which was fair enough. Henrik hated Siame and they 'did' need to die. But that wasn't the only reason he was here.

"My contacts are threatened and deeply concerned by SI expansion. They wish for Siame to be removed. That's why I'm here. I'm here to do a job and support my comrades who want the same thing. Some people are probably concerned that I'm on someone's payroll... That someone, if you don't know, is a man named Kovlov. And believe me, he won't rest until SI is driven into the ground so deep they won't be able to get out." Henrik drew his thumb across his throat. "Kovlov calls it debt collection. The debt they owe is in blood." Scratching his beard, Henrik thought for a moment. The plan involved a lot of risk, and a lot of people involved in a large gunfight. Henrik was unsure whether the team would be better served by him in said gunfight or if someone else needed escorting to where they were needed to be. No doubt most people would want him to be on the ground, pumping bullets non-stop into warm, fleshy SI agents' bodies. But there were several technicians on the team, people who needed support to get to where they were needed, like the turian, or the quarian hacker. The salarian had already spoken up to support the turian, but that was one salarian. Henrik reckoned they would need at least one heavy hitter as well. Glancing first at the heavy-set human soldier (Mark Russo, was it? Kovlov had mentioned someone with that name, but Henrik couldn't put names to faces to save his life) and then at the turian, Henrik spoke up again.

"I will accompany Sleuth if needed. If not, I will take part in the hangar assault." Short, simple and to the point. If the turian didn't need his help, then Henrik would simply assist in the taking of the ship. It was only logical - if the turian felt he had enough backup, then Henrik would place himself where he felt he would be the most useful; in the hangar, taking bullets and killing hostiles. It was what he was good at, after all...

This was already going better than Tanya could have anticipated. Not only did she have far more willing and able volunteers, but they were already sliding into the roles she suspected they would without any prompting on her part. While there was a healthy amount of skepticism and reluctant acceptance, there were more than a few who were eager and ready. Well, that’s the hard part over. Pulling this off is going to be a walk in the park in comparison. she thought, offering a bemused expression to the female drell, Daryna, and her cooler. She looked like she was offering to share lunch instead of offer rather unfortunate merchandise.

“I’m not going to ask why you decided to go collect a bunch of krogan testes, and frankly, ew. They’re all yours, you should run a wire through them and wear them as a necklace and tell people you ate the last one off its still squirming victim. Nobody would fuck you with you after that.” She said with a playful wink, rising up from her seat. Humour was generally the universal language for defusing potential tension, and practical jokes made up approximately half of her interactions with her old crewmates. Tanya pondered if she’d develop a similar bond with the group assembled around the sketchy little conference room in the ass end of nowhere.

“Alright, glad to know there a few people in this galaxy who have more balls than Daryna’s krogan.” She said, ignoring Kesik’s intensely hateful gaze. She’d have a few words with him soon enough. “Sleuth and the quarians, you guys will be key to pulling this off. That ship needs to be locked down and comms jammed before we can make our move, otherwise we’re fucked. I can’t stress this more; we get one shot at this. Keep in contact with one another and the minute you guys have your objectives met, ping me on my omni-tool. Then the fireworks start.”

She decided to bury the major hatchet next. Her gaze turned over to the two batarians, who after only a few minutes, seemed to be bonding together tighter than an epoxy resin. Other than some intense facial expressions, both kept their words professional, buying into the work. Kesik’s lack of protest actually surprised Tanya; she thought he’d be much, much more belligerent at the announcement of his role as bait. “I realize what I’m asking of you is absurd and dangerous by any measurements, and it’s clear neither of us have any love lost for one another’s species. For what it’s worth, I respect you for doing this and I’m not going to let any asshole lay a hand on you. As soon as the show starts, your bindings will be off via omni-tool command and I’ll have a pistol in your hand just as fast. I’ll be one of your make-belief captors, along with Saseen.” She looked at Valok next. “We’ll keep you close in the hanger, within easy shot of the SI troops. It’ll look suspect if a batarian’s selling one of his own off to imprisonment, but nobody’s going to look twice at somebody looking like they belong to another ship. After that, you two can share bunks for all I care. I’d rather people stick with people they were comfortable with, but there’s going to be times we all need to do unpleasant shit. This is one of them.”

Turning to the group at large, “The boring logistical part of this is the fact that we all have personal gear and belongings. I’ve rented an automated storage container on the hanger deck that can be wheeled over to the ship on a command. We’ll have to hump that shit in by hand down the docking arm, but it’s a hell of a lot better than all of us running around dragging cases behind us. When we sync omni-tools at the end of this, you’ll have the access code and the bin number. Bay E-15, crate number A-129.” She glanced at Henrik. “I think you’ll be best used for the bordering party, along with Kosso and Saseen. Kesik, Valok, and myself will keep the entryway of the ship clear and make sure our goods get aboard okay and I want to keep an eye out for our tech team. Mark and Jaerdi will be looking after our hacking friends and making sure C-Pat isn’t a pain in the ass. If it makes any of you feel better about getting in a fight with cops, it really isn’t hard to come across riot control rounds in these parts.” Tanya activated her omni-tool, her own requesting connection with the other omni-tools in the room. “I’m sending you all maps, schematics, and points of interest that you may wish to go after in the 3 hours we have until the ship arrives, including stocking up on equipment, armouring up, and getting your gear down to E-15. Don’t forget your toothbrushes. Try to be in the hanger in two and a half hours.” She said, gathering herself as she prepared to get her own affairs in order.
_ _ _ _ _

Time, as it is, either crawls when you wish it to pass, or you feel like what little time you have is never enough. Tanya had immediately set off to find somewhere to eat – she wasn’t sure what kind of food would be on the ship, and she had no idea when she’d be able to enjoy a good full meal again. That task out of the way, all that was left was returning to her shared hotel room where she showered, put on her armour, and ran a final systems test on her equipment and weapons while a shitty batarian sitcom played on the vid screen in the background. Try as she might, there was no discernable way to find enjoyment out of it, and she was all but certain the only way the show was still on the air was because the Hegemony had made it a crime not declare passionate love for it. As her omni-tool beeped, declaring it was time to check out and head down to bay E-15. Tanya shut off the vid screen and sat with her shotgun laid across her lap, as if collapsing it would finalize the fact she really was going through with her plan.
The connected room's door opened and Kosso walked in, the drell looking like his affairs were already sorted out. Tanya looked up at him nervously, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. "So... we're doing this, huh?" she asked.

Kosso allowed himself a small smile as he settled into place along one of the walls, arms crossed. "Apparently, yes. It's stupid and we're going to die, but we're doing it anyway." He shrugged. "Because that's how it always goes with us, isn't it?" He raised one hand up before his face. It was trembing, shaking like a leaf in a storm. He watched his twitching fingertips with a sort of detatched disgust. "It started early this time. Thought maybe I'd finally shaken it."
Tanya rose up from the edge of the bed, leaving the shotgun behind. She approached her friend, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fine. We've done worse, and this time there's like, 90% less chance of drowning, unless somebody tips the water cooler." she paused. "Oh god, what if the ship doesn't have one?" she said in mock horror, trying to break Kosso's tension. He needed the reassurance more than her, it seemed.
Oh, who was she kidding? She was also scared shitless.

Kosso forced himself to give what he hoped was a more genuine-looking smile. "As long as its got a coffee machine and a fridge for booze, I think we'll manage." Honestly, her attempts at steadying him were helping to ease his nerves. Not for the first time, either. He wondered why, wondered how she could make him smile in the face of a coming storm. And then he remembered.

Sunlight on a sea of grass. The roar of a dozen ships. They descend like a flock around them. Blades of green part into whorls and torrents. She turns to him, armor dented, eyes squinting.

"Do you remember that job on Anhur?" He asked, distantly, back in the present. "The one that we thought for sure we weren't going to get out of alive?" His eyes were dilated, moving, tracing images that lived now only in memory. "Smile and a shotgun. Smells of sweat and smoke. 'Thought they'd send more,' you said. 'Guess this will be easy.' Finger on the trigger, smile aching. The doors open among exhaust."

His pupils contracted again as the memory faded. "But we did survive." He'd been staring off into space, but now he turned to Tanya with a grin. Because you wouldn't let us die, no matter how much I believed it. Because that's the day I realized we might be on to something great. "Because that's also how it always goes with us, isn't it?"
Tanya grinned in reply. "You mean that one where we actually met batarians who were against that whole assholish slaving thing? That was a good time. It felt good to be doing something for people for a change." her grin turned to something more like a genuine smile, something that had become more and more common in the past two and a half years. "The two of us, we've done some crazy shit, there's no doubt about that. And I wouldn't have changed a day of it." she said, stepping away from Kosso and opening a drawer. Reaching in, she retrieved a small parcel and brought it over to her friend, pulling out his hand and placing it in his palm. "For you, I felt shitty for missing your birthday a couple weeks back." she said.

Kosso arched a brow, amused. "I'm surprised you remembered. I wasn't even keeping track of the days, to be honest." His scaly fingers closed around the package. "This is going to have to be something really great to pay me back for all those times I've saved your ass."

The cheap wrapping paper fell away quickly, revealing a plain box. Inside was nestled a pair of dark sunglasses, sleek and professional. It was so unexpected, so appropriate, that Kosso couldn't help but laugh even as he slid them on. Fits even better than the old ones did. "Were you getting too distracted by my handsome eyes, or do you just prefer the more mysterious look?" His smile was genuine. "Thanks. Sorry all I got you for your last birthday was a case of beer and an expulsion from that bar on Omega."

"You're like a reverse snake charmer, in this case it's the reptile that was doing the distracting. I couldn't stand ignoring all those bullets when you kept shooting me smouldering glances... couldn't figure out if you were trying to seduce me, or figure out what was worth looting off my corpse." she smirked, which quickly turned into a smile at the sight of Kosso's own turn of expression. That alone was worth the extortionate cost. The man had very few happy moments in his life, she'd noticed. She had to laugh. "Oh, Kosso. I thought you knew me by now; always put your money into experiences instead of the materialistic. The memories are worth more in the end. Besides, you let a gal smash a 40-year-old bottle of scotch over some creep's head, you more than paid for a lifetime of fondness. You're welcome."

Kosso adjusted his new glasses one final time, settling into a tinted worldview with a sense of familiarity. "Well, now that we've got all the proper equipment, I guess it's time we go kick some Siame ass. With all the bums and lowlifes we just teamed up with, we're bound to get lucky and have a couple diamonds in the rough. We'll take that ship, and the first thing we'll do is raid their alcohol rations." Still smiling, he held his hand up again. This time, the fingers only trembled slightly, the majority of the shaking having subsided. "See? It's a good sign."

“Oh, good. And here I was wondering if you were going to be shooting up our new ship with your shaky hands. Besides, why else are we doing this? You just know those assholes are hording the good stuff.” Tanya let out a brief sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Time to go. We keep fucking around and our brigands are going to think we’re a couple tardy fucks who can’t be arsed to hijack a ship.” She said, moving to gather her gear. As she opened the door, she looked back at Kosso. “Oh, and Kosso? Don’t get hurt. I’d rather our first day not end up in the med bay.”
_ _ _ _ _

While not quite as grand as the docking bays present on the Citadel, Cartagena Station’s bays, arranged around the entire circumference of the station, were both spacious and capable of handling all manner of ships, the largest of military vessels being exempted. Docking Bay E-15 was no different. While it wasn’t quite as comfortable or presentable as a planetside spaceport terminal, its spartan presentation was utilitarian to the fullest. In many ways, it wasn’t unlike a military hanger, only slightly more chaotic and messy. The bay was actually connected to another with an open floor plan, E-15 and E-16 sharing a connected loading area and customs checkpoint. Not that there was a heck of a lot that was contraband on the station, it was mainly to keep Cartagena Station from becoming an easy drug trafficking destination, and anything past personal arms was strictly forbidden unless a company paid rent to store their arms in a warehouse. It wasn’t as if the station was a wild, overly dangerous place either; C-Pat was surprisingly well disciplined and equipped, with each officer carrying not only a sidearm, but his or her choice of long arm and a full set of armour. It wasn’t unlike the gang-controlled sectors in Omega, only the cops here were less likely to shake you down on principle. Tanya could only hope that the Administrator accepted her payment of a ship and a request for C-Pat to stay out of Bay E-15 to heart. She promised whatever happened in the docking bay wouldn’t move into the station proper, and the batarian station master seemed more than enthusiastic at the prospect of Siame Industries getting a black eye. The way he saw it, Cartagena Station was his, and he’d sooner die than let a bunch of meddling, self-righteous mercenaries wrestle control from himself. The man seemed more than content to keep the docking bay clear for the day and direct the Siame Industries vessel to it, after that it wasn’t his problem.

Tanya knew it might have been a set up, but she strongly suspected the Administrator was playing it straight. It was also why she made sure the hacking team was well aware they’d likely be locking out C-Pat from the systems as well and keeping the doors sealed. Too much was at stake to take any more risks than they needed to.

One by one, the team filed into the hanger and either dropped off their equipment in the storage container or adopted positions. Tanya checked her arm, a small LCD clock was installed in the armour. 25 minutes until show time. The handcuffs she’d be slapping on Kesik dangled from her webbing belt, themselves keyed to release with a signal from her omni-tool. It was a system she troubleshot for the better part of 40 minutes to get right; this was not the time for stupid chances.

She was watching the hacking team meet around Mark when the first of her bullshit prisoner party approached. She offered a nod. “Ready to do something stupid?” she asked.

Daryna frowned, looking down at her cooler. "Why have krogan testicles?" she wondered to herself. "What, am I supposed to get human testicles? Nobody pays 10,000 credits for a human testicle." Daryna paused. "Do they...?" She shook her head. "I guess I'll work up a plan to get into that ship to keep the pilot in check." Daryna looked around the room at the people who would be accompanying her on this mission. She figured nobody else could actually get into Siame's ship without shooting, so maybe she could actually be useful. After years of using her dominate ability, Daryna had learned that the best way to gain an advantage was to sit back and observe. When they didn't think they were being watched, people would do revealing things. Those quirks often were able to be taken advantage of. Not that Daryna would take advantage of anyone without good reason, but she had trust issues on a normal day. Gather the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy under one roof, and she had to try and be on top of things in case she needed a speedy escape route.

The first looked at Tanya. She already proved herself to be strong and charismatic. Whether or not it was just a face Daryna didn't know yet, but she certainly pulled it off well. If Daryna was going to trust anyone, she felt that Tanya would be a good choice. Her use of humor seemed to be her way out of a situation, and her relationship to the other drell in the room seemed more dependent on her part.

Now, the drell. Daryna was immediately nervous around him. She had spoken to very few drell after her little exchange with the doctor on Kahje. She was an outsider, and she accepted that.This man seemed snarky. He gave the appearance that he didn't want to be here, but Daryna guessed otherwise. She could tell he was a fighter first, and everything else second. He needed Tanya to articulate for him, she bet.

The next person she saw was the salarian. Jaerdi something, she thought. She always loved salarians. They were so fast and smart; Daryna wished she was more like a salarian sometimes. He too was stoic, not giving away much about himself. Daryna was beginning to fear that would be a pattern among these criminals. Would it be so hard to find someone fun to hang out with? But when he speculated about his mishaps with Sleuth, he gave away his innate salarian-ness that Daryna was so fond of. They loved testing their limits, just like Daryna.

Next was the big human, the one with the beard. Daryna wasn't fond of beards, she had to say. She learned about them in her teens, when exploring with Khel Jarr. It wasn't a pleasant surprise. She remembered a time when humans were fighting the turians in their so called "First Contact War", and now there was this big hairy man allying himself with her. Interesting, to say the least. This man portrayed himself as a mere henchman - either he was downplaying his abilities, or he was really just a grunt, in which case he wasn't a big threat, mentally. Grunts usually weren't, in Daryna's experience.

The other male human threw Daryna off. She had never seen a human with a synthetic arm. How much of him was actually synthetic? Was his brain part machine? Would Daryna's abilities not work on him? Daryna was... unsettled, at the least, at the sight of Iosif. Maybe she'd try to casually bring up whether or not he had any brain implants. She'd need more time to think of a way to do that.

There was yet another male human in the mix, and this one Daryna did not like that much. He seemed cocky, even arrogant.She never liked those kind of people, especially those that did nothing to earn it. On the bright side, those who were wrapped up in how great they were often overlooked people like Daryna, and that meant she could blindside him with her powers.

She next saw the guest of honor, Kesik the batarian. She didn't know why, but she liked Kesik. Probably because he was willing to go along with Tanya's crazy plan. Daryna didn't know if she would be willing to do that. He was braver than her, and she admired him for that. She was eager to see his hostage crisis play out.

The other batarian, Valok, was showing more of that stoical charm that criminals all around the galaxy loved. He seemed uncomfortable being around so many non-batarians. Daryna couldn't even begin to understand that concept. She had never been in a room with more than three drell. She was always the exception to the general population. She hoped that Valok would get more relaxed around the other aliens, or else she'd have to watch her back around him.

The male quarian was next on Daryna's judgmental journey. She felt a fluttering feeling deep inside her stomach whenever she saw quarians - how lucky they were, to hide behind suits every day! To never have to show their faces, to be hidden... what Daryna would have given for her own enviro-suit when she was growing up. She even tried to convince her parents to let her pretend to be a quarian, but they refused. Anyway, this Loral seemed like the typical dedicated scientist type. Daryna was hoping he was mad - every motley band needed one good mad scientist to round out their numbers.

Now the female quarian was different - she seemed less secure, almost like Daryna herself. When she spoke, she even sounded a bit like Daryna. She hoped she could find a friend in Kali. Hell, she seemed to be the only viable option in this group. Tanya looked reliable, but she was pretty sure that Tanya would kick Daryna's ass before she became her friend.

Daryna almost didn't notice Aran - the weird, hunched turian. She wished she didn't. she jumped when she saw him, looking all broody and weak-body-strong-mind in the corner. And Daryna did suspect his mind was stronger than most here - throwing a dominate at Aran would probably be like throwing a baby krogan at a brick wall. Even the way he introduced himself was all enigmatic and creepy. "Some of you may know me as Sleuth"... well, Daryna was just going to know him as that creepy guy in the corner.

Daryna stood up, almost finishing up her little peep show without noticing Saseen. Asari were so normal to see on Illium, Daryna sometimes overlooked them. She had to say, she was not looking forward to working with an asari. I went all the way out into the middle of the Terminus Systems. How far do I have to run to get away from these people? Daryna hoped that she could stay away from Saseen, and Saseen could stay away from her. Even looking at Saseen brought back bad memories...

I sit in the desk, eyes to the ground. The other girls circled me, laughing. Ugly Asari. Ugly Asari. Go back to the jellyfish, we don't want you. The teacher pretended not to hear. I was crushed, but at the same time, I wanted what they said to be true. Asari? Me? Only in my dreams.

Daryna snapped out of her memory and crashed to the ground. Her krogan testicle cooler bounced away from her, under an empty chair. "Dammit!" She screamed, much louder than intended. Daryna couldn't see anything. The memory left her totally blind. It had happened before, but the pain had never gone away. Besides, Daryna was fairly sure that she just revealed a humiliating memory in front of the group. She hoped she spoke quietly. She stumbled on her knees, trying to pull herself to her feet with dignity. It all happened because of stupid Saseen. Even out here, asari still plagued her. Why did they have to cause her so much pain? Why did she let them?

Jaerdi watched as Tanya went over the various jobs each person had stated they could do and, to some extent, took charge of defining some. She looked like she’d played the role of de-facto leader before, and Jaerdi would not be surprised to see her doing the majority of the directing for this motley team. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the Drell women's suddenly crashing to the floor after getting a dazed look on her face. He had read about the Drell, but they were so rare in the galaxy that he’d never actually worked with one, or against one. Only seen them in passing from time to time. If he had to guess, he would say that she had just experienced some kind of memory, though the books had not mentioned that they could be so… extreme. As he picked up his bag to leave, he could only hope the woman wouldn’t be afflicted by that sort of thing on the job.

On his way to drop his bag in the specified crate Jaerdi had pulled up his Omni tool to do some research. The information Tanya had sent him was useful, but it lacked the personal touch that he needed to get C-pat worked into a frenzy. The other man that had been chosen to escort the techies would likely just walk next to them and shoot anyone who looked threatening while generally being a very reactive guard. That job had its use, but it wasn’t Jaerdi’s style. He preferred to guard the client by making sure the people out to stop the client were too busy with all the chaos he caused to take the time to send a real force to his clients location.

By the time he had reached the crate, he had found a target he could work with. He didn’t have nearly as much time as he’d like to set up a nicely orchestrated mess for C-pat to work out, but he could at least have them chasing their tails for a little while. The target he’d chosen to work with was a Batarian extremist group that regularly agitated for making the station Batarian only, and was based on nearly the opposite side of the station to the security systems hub. Jaerdi liked extremist groups. Not for their ideals, they were usually ridiculous ideals, no, he liked them because they were very easy to stir into action. Usually rash action. This particular group marauded around their tiny slice of the station with a variety of guns, keeping just lawful enough to avoid being cracked down on too hard, but dodgy enough to have a constant eye on them. They fit the profile perfectly.

Thirty minutes later, Jaerdi had made it to the other side of the station and located one of the suspected second in commands of the group - just wandering around like he owned the place. He’d found a nice secure spot in an alley between buildings and taken out his prized Locust smg, ready to start gunning down Batarian extremists indiscriminately. It was at that point he opened up his omni tool and placed an audio only call for C-pat. To their credit, they answered quickly, a Turian voice on the other end of the line. He began speaking immediately, putting on his best terrified citizen voice. “Help! Help! The Batarians, they’re trying to kill me! They’ve gone mad! They’re just shooting everyone with less than four eyes!” When they asked for the location, he gave it to them, very specifically, and told them to hurry.

Once that was done and the call was stopped, he instigated the whole mess, leaning out from his cover and shouting “Hey four eyed freak! Get off our station!” Before adding injury to insult with a quick burst of smg fire at the high ranking Batarian. He went down quickly, and the rest of his people started firing various guns in Jaerdi’s general direction. He prepared a pair of Homing grenades on his Omni tool and stood out of cover, raising his hand to let them find their targets and release, his shields absorbing a few of the more accurate rounds while he did so. A second later, a pair of explosions marked the messy deaths of two more batarian thugs. While the remaining trio were in disarray from the expensive and exotic deaths of their brothers, Jaerdi leaned out and put them down with accurate bursts of fire from his Locust. Two of the thugs didn’t even have shields.

From there, he moved quickly, sprinting to the lead Batarians body, running a few brute force hacking programs on the mans omni tool as he went. Once he got there, he picked up the dead mans arm and activated his omni tool. It was easy enough to navigate the hacked tool and find the number to contact the overall leader of the extremists. Before he made the call though, he scrolled through his own omni tools selection of voice synthesisers. Sometimes it paid to use a voice that sounded a bit more badass than his own smooth Salarian alto. His finger hovered over ‘Krogan Badass’ for a moment before he eventually settled on ‘Macho Turian.’ One thing about law enforcement firms that Jaerdi had learned over the years, was that they all had Turians in them. Enforcing the law was something Turians just couldn’t stay away from. He tapped the message he wanted to deliver into his omni-tool in advance, then made the call on the deadmans omni tool, quickly pressing playback on his own tool. The message played in a near cartoonish, overly deep and gravelly Turian voice, and Jaerdi had to stop from laughing at it until it was over. “C-pat sends its regards. Time to go back to Khar’shan four-eyed monsters.” Jaerdi could hear the raging of the extremist leader from the other end of the line as he stood, a pleased grin on his face as he admired his work.

A minute later, a pair of C-pat officers rounded the corner and arrived on the scene, probably the closest patrol, and now the unluckiest of them all. Jaerdi was standing in the middle of the group of dead Batarians, one of their budget pistols in hand. “Finally. If my call had been real, I’d probably be a dead civilian by now.” He said to them as he raised both hands to point at them - one with his omni tool glowing, sending a chain overload to burn out their shields, and the other with the pistol he’d taken from the Batarian, which he promptly shot the two officers with. Normally he tried to avoid killing the police, but if the job demanded it, then the job demanded it. “My work here is done.” He said over the bodies, before dropping the gun and springing into his escape.

When the C-pat reinforcements arrived, they’d find dead C-pat officers next to dead extremists, and when the extremist reinforcements arrived, they’d find C-pat officers standing over dead extremists. It’d probably spark a rather messy firefight that, with any luck, would spread to encompass the entirety of the extremist territory, and draw away a fair amount of the C-pat force. And the best part was that no-one would know it didn’t occur naturally until far too late.

Now all that remained was to get the security hub guards away from their posts. He would have to think on his feet for that one, but ideas were already filling his mind as he made his way to the meeting point.

After watching Tanya lay down the remainder of their plan, Iosif began to fill in the rest of the details in his head. Whilst he could have easily assigned himself to the hacking crew meant to be guarding Sleuth, he figured that he'd have been better off working with the main hijacking team that would've been doing most of the work to take control of the ship. No doubt that even if he wasn't going to be acting as the ship's pilot there would've most likely been a co-pilot's seat available for him and besides, they'd need every extra hand in preparing the ship for take-off once they were all onboard. Even better, it would've given him a chance to personally put a dent in one of Siame Industries' assets, first-hand.

As his omni-tool pulsed at the signal of Tanya's connection request, he quickly allowed the connection and took a moment to browse through the information which it displayed across its holographic interface. Noting it down internally, he threw yet another a nod towards her direction and stood from his seat, before departing to handle his own affairs. The idea of storing what few belongings which he had left in the world in a storage container which any of the others could access - especially the batarians - made him a little cautious, but the miniscule case which he dragged alongside his person at most held some spare articles of clothing, as well as a few personal effects which hadn't been looted upon Iosif's return to his ransacked apartment, courtesy of the salarian. The rest of his belongings he carried on his person in the form of equipment, otherwise he owned little else in the galaxy.

Figuring it was best to get that matter out of the way, he followed Tanya's directions to the storage container and left the case inside, under the faith that the others would have little interest in some random freelancer’s clothes and whatever other worthless personal effects he'd brought along with him. That aside, there was little else for him to do but wait for the others to show up at the hangar. It wasn't as if he'd planned on staying on Cartegena for long and so he'd saved himself the trouble of booking a room at the Inn, and without any other place for him to stop such as the confines of his own shuttle there was only the option of waiting. Part of him wanted to push through it with the aid of a few drinks, but from experience he knew that drinking directly before pulling off something the crew was about to against a company like Siame would've only dragged him into even more trouble.

So instead, he took a seat on some discarded storage crate at the far end of the hangar's loading sector and decided to bide his time by watching the other departures and arrivals, making wagers against himself over where he tried to guess where each ship's previous and next destination would've been, and what kind of people owned them. Some were fairly easy to read, like the 'discreet' pirate vessel that had evidently been worn down by years of active piracy in the Terminus Systems, and its owners were even more obvious - two batarians, a krogan and a particularly savage-looking vorcha, and for a moment it's gaze appeared to be fixated upon him with its sharp, pointed teeth bared in his direction. The sight almost unsettled him as vorcha always did, until the krogan suddenly took notice of the vorcha's ogling and smashed it over the back of the head with the barrel of his shotgun.

Least to say, the sight of the creature scurrying away towards the rest of the group like a whipped dog was enough to make him chuckle once he was certain that he wasn't being watched anymore, and he couldn't help but consider that it wouldn't have been ill-fitting to see the vorcha being held on a leash by the krogan, like the war varren that pirates so often used. After that, things became rather uneventful and Iosif's thoughts wandered to the job he and the others under Tanya's guiding hand were about to pull-off. The batarians still made him uneasy, but he took some reprieve in the idea of one of them being used as bait as opposed to say, himself, or any of the other ones he'd deemed a little more 'trustworthy' for what it was worth in freelance work. As he'd told himself before, time would tell whether either of the four-eyed bastards would turn on them, but he still had little intention of trusting either for the duration of their little war against Siame.

Chances were that Tanya and the others would be showing up any time soon, so Iosif was certain to give his equipment yet another once-over. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing out of place, but the job they were about to pull off required a high degree of precision. Any fuck up would get him killed, imprisoned, or worse, and he had no intention of going back there. Deciding it was time to meet up, he drove his palms into his knees in order to stand up from the storage crate, before heading off towards the direction of the meeting place.

If Loral could scratch his head, he would have—he settled on rubbing his visor with gloved hands to convey his anxiety. He had the convenience of not being in the absolute thick of the firefight they'd all likely be caught in, but it didn't quite stop the nerves from rising. Hacking wasn't his specialty, but being a quarian definitely meant he'd had more than enough experience in the field to be considered average at it. So, that wasn't something he'd have any reason to be nervous about. It was mainly what lay ahead; no one seemed to know just what they were to do after all of this. Maybe they did and Loral was really catching on; a bunch of Siame data was about to fall in their hands, but what were they going to do with it? Maybe they didn't even have the man power or the expertise to make a dent in Siame Industries and if they didn't, Rebekha would likely swat them away like a fly. That worried him the most and it didn't help that he'd be stuck with a bunch of pirates and outlaws in the end. Loral was certainly proud enough to separate himself from pretty much the entirety of the room, minus the other quarian and maybe the female Drell. He'd done a few morally ambiguous things in his life, but he was obviously either too blinded by ambition and his own goals or the fact that he held too much pride to associate himself with criminals.

Yet, here he was and he'd certainly be no better in the end than any of the criminals that surrounded him.

The thought sent a chill down Loral's spine that urged him to leave, but not in the sense that he quite wanted. Accepting the request and adjusting his omni-tool accordingly, Loral gave the Drell an exasperated look as he stepped over her, forgetting completely about his own visor. He had an assortment of things to pack and he wasn't quite keen on running late, regardless of how long they all had to organize themselves. If anything, Loral was, at his very best, punctual. There was enough time for him to gather his things and go over the layout of the entire station a dozen times; he already knew most of the station, having lived there for the time he had. Being a quarian, he mostly knew where not to step foot and which restaurants and stores sold dextro-protein based food and who to get his equipment from for purifying said foods three to four times over. Quarians were so rare that everyone, especially on Cartagena, found it rather costly to buy proper filtration systems to purify their dextro-protein foods; they almost stopped getting shipments of said food due to the lack of turians, but that was quickly remedied by a sudden and rather suspicious influx not long after. Turians weren't scarce, by any means. Luckily, Loral hadn't made his home on the station when said 'turian shortage' happened. It made him appreciate a safe spot on a what would seem like a harmless ship. The thought of being back on there came with a quick and sudden pain. The frown he wore was hidden by the blue tint of his visor; the slump in his shoulders and slowed pace wasn't as easy to hide.

It took him an hour to pack, and only to waste time. Loral was only patient when it came to his research—anything else needed to be rushed. However, one couldn't necessarily rush a 3 hour wait without doing something wholly stupid and impossible simultaneously. He found himself weighing the risk-reward ratio of that situation as he packed, mindlessly juggling pros and cons of something so ridiculous. Preoccupying oneself seemed to past the time the quickest, which wasn't all that much, to be frank. There were still 2 entire hours to waste away prepping in whatever way possible. Everything he needed was organized in a portable case: all of his medical equipment and personal things were shoved in neatly to conserve the most room. It wasted the most time and helped with his "pre-battle" nerves. He could almost laugh. After packing the essentials, but leaving some room, Loral made for the nearest store for extra dextro-protein based foods for himself, possibly the other quarian, and then the turian, roughly in that order. He didn't necessarily trust a simple roll of the dice; if this one particular Siame ship didn't have a Turian member, then they'd not need to stock up on the necessary food. It didn't matter how much he reminded himself that turians weren't a rare commodity and were actually very abundant in the galaxy. It was better to be cautious.

Gathering what he'd packed, Loral made his way down to the locker they were to leave their things. There really wasn't any need to worry about having anything stolen, especially when they were all supposedly staying together on a ship for an indefinite period of time. Hell, they'd probably die together, but Loral wasn't keen on humoring that thought for more than a second. And, if anyone were to bag it and run, but everything else worked accordingly, Siame's ship would have all the necessary supplies to keep himself healthy and then some. All of that was repeated in a quiet mantra as Loral made his way back to his mini-amalgamation of an office, apartment, and medbay to mull on the plans and further adjust himself.

After going over the schematics and plans a second time, as well as getting a quick bite to eat, Loral gathered the equipment he needed for the mission and made for the hangar they'd meet in. He'd made sure to arrive earlier than he had in the meeting, finding Tanya and Kosso not too far from each other. He made his way to the drell, checking all of his equipment to make sure they'd been properly cleaned and maintained before the mission. If they weren't, then that was his fault, as they obviously didn't have time to waste now.

"Aren't I lucky?" he muttered, holstering his guns and nodding to the drell. The incessant clicking didn't catch Loral's attention as his finger found its way to the holstered pistol's safety, pulling it out slightly to get a better grip. He didn't speak, just remained quiet before any further briefing happened and they were to run off to their designated positions. He made note of the Salarian's absence, though kept his worries to himself. The man seemed a professional and Loral was in no way going to refute that—an easy way to get a bullet in the head, or worse.

Kosso had only one bag to add to the crate containing the crew's luggage. One bag, and a head full of memories. What's a life worth? If the cargo already stowed within the crate was any indication, it seemed that most of the "crew" had already gotten their things sorted. All piled together as it was, Kosso couldn't tell one bag from another, or even begin to guess at who owned what. Just a bunch of strangers, jumping onto a bad idea together. Idly, he wondered if any of the new "recruits" would ever become more than just strangers to him. When he'd joined Nova, he'd felt much the same way he did now: like he was surrounded by circling sharks, each of them ready to spin on him with gnashing, vicious teeth if he turned his back. Much to his surprise, he'd come out of his Nova career with a trusted friend by his side...but all of these people were truly dangerous, verified thieves and murderers familiar with treachery and cold violence. As Tanya would say, they "made the hair on the back of his neck stand up," and after the tension of the group's first meeting, he didn't think those hairs would be settling anytime soon.

Kosso tossed his own bag onto the pile. A plain grey duffle, it didn't contain much: A few sets of clothes, some miscellaneous bits of weapons tech...and stashed way at the bottom, wrapped carefully in fabric, a plain white bottle filled to the brim with Hallex. That was what Kosso had been doing during his freetime before the mission. Drug dealers were everywhere on this station, and he was well practiced at finding their ilk. He'd found today's lucky pill-pusher behind a dilapidated bar on one of the station's lower levels, hawking his wares in the casual, subtle way that his kind always did. Despite the dingy place he'd set up shop, the Batarian dealer was offering good product and reasonable prices. Probably couldn't afford to drive a hard bargain, given Cartagena's market for this sort of thing. They'd made the transaction quickly, and Kosso had walked away with two dozen big translucent pills in a plain, unassuming bottle.

And now here he was, stowing them away and trying not to look guilty about it. Tanya's going to skin me alive if she finds out. His human companion wasn't a huge fan of having Hallex on board, and she wasn't afraid to let Kosso know her feelings on the subject. More than one fight on the Jalopy had started over a handful of pills and a few heated words. As far as she knew, he hadn't touched the stuff in over a month...which was technically true, if you didn't count today.

He did feel guilty about it, as if that was any consolation. One dose, and the rest goes out the airlock, he told himself, knowing it was an empty promise. He'd just have to hope that with all the commotion with Siame and the new crew, Tanya wouldn't be paying much attention to him. Maybe she wouldn't pick up on the telltale signs that she (and only she, damn her) always seemed to notice when he'd been dosing, and he could finish this bottle without igniting another flame beneath their relationship. And after this bottle is finished... Kosso sighed, pushing that thought away for another day. Right now he'd focus on problems as they presented themselves.

With that resolution in place, he moved to meet with the rest of the group. Most of them were tricking into the hangar bay, with a few individuals still at large. Kosso hoped they'd all show up; the last thing they needed were drop-outs now after the plans were laid. The older Quarian nodded to him as he neared the group of "techies." He was a strange guy, sort of twitchy, but Kosso figured he was better by far than a good portion of the others, so it was him he addressed. "Make sure everyone that goes in your team is in constant communication, not only with each other but with all of us on the boarding team. Once we get this ship under control, we're going to be making a quick exit, and we don't want to leave anyone behind. A majority of the fighting is probably going to revolve around us and the ship, but you're certainly going to get some heat. Try to be quick. Doesn't matter if the job is dirty, as long as it gets done."

A message was beeping on his omni-tool. Kosso had set up a system to notify him of any newsworthy events during his stay on the station; one such event was happening now as a Batarian extremist group and C-pat had apparently engaged in a sustained firefight somewhere on the far side of the station. Kosso sighed as he moved in with the rest of the boarding party, reading the details of the ongoing skirmish. "I'm just going to assume this isn't a coincidence."

The presentation done, the assorted criminals began to leave the room, presumably to finish up what business they had left on Cartegena Station before they'd be leaving for good. Saseen was going to do the same, when the drell she'd noticed before started muttering. She only tuned in at the word 'asari' and that was all she heard before the woman fell to the ground, sending her cooler careening under a nearby chair. Saseen stood up and quickly walked over to that side of the table. It was perfectly normal for criminals to ignore each other's plights, so she didn't really blame anyone else in the room for not taking notice. However, she couldn't, in good conscience, do so herself.

She was careful not to make her concern too apparent. Pointing out such a fit in the presence of such a hardened lot would probably do more harm for Darnya than good. She simply retrieved the cooler and replaced it on the table. When it became clear that the drell probably wasn't going to fall again, Saseen gave her an understanding smile and left. She hadn't been around quite enough drell in her life to be familiar with their memory regressions, so she didn't quite know what to make of what she'd seen. If I'm going to be working with two of them, I should probably figure out if... Whatever that was is a normal thing... That was added to her mental list of things to do when she had some time to kill on the extranet.

Her next stop was the shitty motel she'd been holed up in for the past two weeks. The theft of her ship had left her with only the clothes on her back and some credits. New guns and armor were first on her shopping list. After that, she picked up some knickknacks that she saw while out shopping -she was terrible about making impulse purchases- an extra change of clothes, and a bag with an over the shoulder strap to keep it all in. First, Saseen changed into her titan armor. Maybe a firefight wasn't the best way to break in new armor, but it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. She slid her new weapons on and haphazardly folded up her normal outfit and tossed it on the bed. In doing so, she caught a climpse of herself in a floor length mirror on the other side of the small room. She grinned and drew her Phalanx, pointing it at her reflection. I can definitely pass for a mercenary, she decided, pointedly ignoring the fact that she wasn't much different from one in the first place.

Everything that wasn't already in the bag went in and Saseen slung it over her shoulder. She told the disinterested batarian at the front desk that she was checking out, and left without any further ado. Once on the street again, she looked down at her omni-tool. It was one of few things that she'd retained after her ship was stolen. It had no hacking or combat functions, as she wouldn't know how to use the former and believed her biotics to render the latter obsolete, but it could access make calls, send messages, and access the extranet. An engineer friend who'd been on the ship had installed programs that would keep her location from being revealed to anyone who cared to look. The programs weren't infallible, but they'd served well enough for her purposes. Bay E-15, crate number A-129.

Saseen had a quite bite to eat before dropping her bag off in their group's crate. Now there was nothing left to do but wait. She approached Tanya in a rather leisurely manner, considering what they were about to do. "I've built my career on doing stupid things. I'm always ready," she responded pleasantly. "What about you?"

Mark thought back on the events of the little club meeting as he waited for the rest of the team to show up at the dock. He'd arrived fairly early, having already been wearing his armor and weapons and just needed to head back to his dingy apartment to grab the single duffle bag's worth of belongings before heading out.

He had chuckled at his old crew mate's responses to his not so thinly veiled shot across the bow. "You guys still get that story wrong," he growled back, "and I'm always zen. Even when I'm punching people. Not sure why it matters anyway, you didn't call me down here so I could give you fashion tips." Any further verbal sparring would have to wait however as the meeting officially began.

Hed gazed on with cynical thoughts tumbling through his brain, relatively uninterested and unconvinced with Tanya's speech up until she said that Siame was already on their way and pointed out one of the batarians as Kesik. Mark's gun hand instinctively twitched at the thought of such a valuable bounty being so close at hand. And he began running through strategies to take him down in that moment. Direct approach? Just get up and ventilate him? No, that would start a free for all most likely. Flash bang first then ventilate him? Nope. He'd suffer the effects as well and still be in the middle of a room filled with trigger happy mercs and criminals. Hed cursed himself for not choosing a more tactically superior spot. Well, it hardly mattered, even if he did manage to get away unscathed, Siame Ind. would still be a massive thorn in his side. Better to bide his time and see how everything plays out.

Instead he just shook his head at Tanya's audacity. Crazy bitch would have the target on its way before hand, giving everybody minimal time to prepare. Really wasn't surprising considering past experiences.

Speaking of everybody, he gave some of the others a quick look over, and wasn't especially motivated by what he saw. Some of the rooms occupants looked like they'd never even held a gun before let alone taken a life. But then there were some promising prospects as well. Tanya and Kosso were proven fighters if a bit flighty. The batarians would likely be an asset, as would the Viking he'd seen in the street earlier. The quarians and salarians could fall either direction, but they couldn't be counted out yet. And then there was the rickety turian who, interestingly enough, turned out to be Sleuth. They'd worked for each other in the past and the info broker could definitely offset his disabilities with tech skill. Maybe this wouldn't be such a disaster after all.

Then the female drell whipped out a cooler full of krogan balls.

Mark drew a hand down his face with exasperation. "Great. Here we go." Everybody who spoke after that didn't depress him as much. Unlike most of the other occupants, the batarians didn't bother him anymore than the turian did -although the turian did bother him a bit. He'd never been able to drop his grudge from the First Contact War entirely-. He could hardly fault the batarians for whatever background in slaving they had considering humans had been doing it to each other almost as long as they've existed, and likely still were in the less developed areas of Earth. Besides, it's not like killing people for money was a morally superior occupation.

The Viking caught his attention when he name dropped a mister "Kovlov." Ah, Mark thought, so this must be the infamous "Enforcer." I may not like his tactics, but at least he's not green as a drell laying in grass.

Speaking of, the testicle collector decided at that moment to have some kind of panic attack and fell to ground cursing. Mark watched on flatly, exhaling a cloud of smoke as the woman recovered. "Well then," he said as he got to his feet before delivering his next line deadpan, "anybody else feel like having a seizure before we get shot at? No? Just checking." With that, he'd walked out the door to prepare for Siame's arrival.

Memory complete, Mark returned his attention to the schematics that Tanya had sent everybody. He leaned against a railing on dock E-15 taking shots from his flask while studying the floor plans and deciding ahead of time the best way to approach each hall and doorway. The hacking team would be arriving soon along with his salarian backup. While Aran would definitely be a hinderance as far as the combat went, Mark was hoping that between him and Jaerdi, they could defend the techs adequately. Most of the combat would likely be on the docks proper when Siame showed up, and Mark was more than happy to be in a position that would be easy to slip away from if the ambush crew cocked everything up.

((Whoops! Thought this was OOC briefly.))

Daryna was helped up by some woman - maybe that quarian Kali. Anyway, her sight recovered relatively quickly and by then Saseen was gone anyway. That was as good as she could hope for. Averting eye contact from anyone in the room, she grabbed her testicle cooler and headed out the door. Daryna spent the next few minutes listening to a recording of the meeting - she needed to commit it to long term memory in order for it to stick. She listened to every word Tanya said, and was enthused all over again to get this job done. She had stolen valuable things in her career - but a spaceship was worth serious cred.

Daryna first decided to grab lunch at a nearby bar - no krogan or asari food, which Daryna was used to eating, but batarian food was... good enough. Certainly different. She had some kind of meaty thing... maybe a squid. It was easy to forget the meal with the hilarious sitcom playing in the corner - she found herself laughing along with every batarian in the joint. It reminded Daryna of Khel Galdor's favorite cartoon that he made her watch - Dakor the Explorer. The krogan who searched the galaxy for the cure to the genophage with his talking rifle, Salarisniper, and the head of a turian who would give Dakor hints of where to find the cure. Thinking of Dakor only made Daryna miss her father more, however.

Sure, Daryna had 30,000 credits worth of krogan testicles, but she needed something she could pay for more souvenirs with - she needed hard creds. The solution was usually easy - and it was Daryna's favorite pastime. She found a group of three batarians - they looked like friends - walking down the street. What started with an innocent "Hello my friends! I am Mysteria the Hypnotist! I bet you fifty credits that I could put one of you under my spell" - turned into watching the slowest of the batarians doing elegant dances all across the street. Eventually, Daryna had gathered a crowd of over twenty passerby, all claiming that they would be the one to resist her hypnosis. Daryna ended up making over 600 credits before the crowd began to get restless. The first batarian who accused her of being an evil witch ended up soiling himself, and the attention had shifted well away from Daryna, who made off into a nearby alleyway. She later found herself at the docks, wearing a tie-dye t-shirt that said "I Heart Cartagena", a fan that also sprayed water to keep her cool, and a charm bracelet with ten festive charms.

Kesik Bal'uim had participated in hundreds of daring missions, he had volunteered for the insanity of the Skylian Blitz and his crew had once boarded a Turian freighter as it approached a Relay. The difference between those battles and the one soon approaching were planning however, was the presence of a safety net, a way out if things got too hot. The days long past also lacked the little part about Kesik being live bait. So rather than Kesik's intentions to scout E-15 and try to call in favors to move the Cartagena patrol out of the nearby area, he took to drink.

This bar was the type of place that even the most hardened Krogan would shudder to enter, a Batarian dive, swarming with locals. Something about a large collection of proud, drunk Batarians sent waves of unease to those who even passed by. Valok and Kesik had found some space at the end of the bar, relatively ignored by the rest of the patrons. As he thought it over, Kesik began to dread the upcoming attack, regretting his bravado or lack thereof by simply accepting his role as bait. If things went sour, the rest of the team could scatter. Cartagena was a hive of criminals, they could hide on the promise that there was someone with a bigger bounty on their head nearby. Kesik could no longer blend into the crowd, he was that someone, Siame was here for him.

Despite his innards being tied in a knot, the flow of drinks would not yield. Valok proved to be a capable drinking partner, simply powering through the drinks like he was being paid to empty his glass.The two Batarians had both been at Elysium, and they shared their war-stories with a group of teens that were standing nearby. As it turned out, Kesik and Valok had met once before, in passing, during the Blitz, and they made a toast to that encounter. While there were many Batarians Kesik would have liked to have along for this mission, he was content with having Valok at his side. This man was a brute with a superiority complex, but he was a smart brute who distrusted everyone else on this team more than he distrusted Kesik, that was good.

More drinks flowed, more war-stories, both Batarians were significantly buzzed by the time they headed to the hanger. Going into battle under the influence normally would have mortified Kesik even more than being bait, but Valoks's confidence was inspiring, and both of them boasted loudly about their past achievements as they walked to the station's shipping center. Kesik turned to Valok after thay dropped off their equipment, sure to be within eyesight of Tanya. He gave his kinsman a nod of the head and a clasp of the shoulder before turning away. He needed this man to watch his back, because the rest of the aliens would happily stab it.

"Give me a blade, a gun will do me no good at the kind of range I will be in. I can use one of them as a hostage if things get messy," he said as he walked over to Tanya, interrupting whatever conversation she was already having. Eyeing the cuffs hanging from her belt, he then held out both his hands, keeping a constant scowl on his face. "And make the arrest now, the longer I am in custody the more convincing it will look."

Saseen, the other “captor” of this little plan, was perhaps the most relaxed of any of the recruits. The asari was a pleasant enough personality, and indeed seemed to be one of the few people wholly excited for the impending operation. Tanya suspected the two of them were going to get along just fine, which was fortunate considering Saseen was going to be the one flying the captured ship.

“My story’s the same as yours. If it’s likely to be laughed off the face of the galactic map from anyone with a respectable living, chances are I’ve drawn a pay cheque from it.” Tanya grinned to Saseen. “As far as stupid plans go, this one at least took me a few days to line up. Given my record of pulling rabbits out of hats on the spot, that means it’s guaranteed to work.”

The two women didn’t have long to catch up as the star of the show approached, asking for a blade. That was unexpected. “I like watching people get shivved as much as the next girl, but given this is the 22nd century, I tend to anticipate people preferring firearms. I’m not removing your omni-tool, so if you have a blade programmed in that thing, use it. If not, fucking stab them with bullets.” She said dryly, patting the M-3 on her hip. She nodded when he held his hands out, and she gently put his hands behind his back. “It’s less obvious when the cuffs come off and for me to hand you a gun. What’s your dominant hand? The cuffs will undo from one side only at the first command. I managed to put a small shield generator in the cuffs so you’ll be able to take a few grazing shots without much concern, but I need to stress the capacitor is really fucking small, so don’t be a brazen asshole when the party starts.” She said, making final preparations with Kesik and Saseen. The trio were soon ready and standing like they belonged there. Tanya noticed the drell woman, Daryna, walking around like a tourist in a god-awful shirt, arguably having the most convincing cover of anyone, although she wondered if anyone loved the station enough to wear a shirt proclaiming how great it was. Valok was doing his best to appear disinterested closer to E-16, close enough to support Kesik and the others if need be, but not close enough to be overly alarming. There were a few others here and there, and the hacking team had already departed to do their thing. She hoped they were well on their way to blocking the comms and locking down the ship, because this was going to be a shit show otherwise.

Finally, the docking lights of Bay E-15 illuminated, informing the occupants of the hanger that a ship was cleared to dock and would be making contact shortly. Tanya and Saseen arose from their seat and helped pull Kesik to his feet. She spoke lowly, shotgun in hand, into her omni-tool. “Alright people, look sharp. It’s show time.” She hoped her various team members were brilliant enough to keep their communications open and synced with one another. This would be a terrible time to figure out somebody fucked the dog, as her boot camp instructor was fond of screaming.

To her relative surprise, it was not an asari or turian ship that docked, but through the large glass viewport emerged a salarian corvette, the long sloping lines that seemed to form seamlessly together and giving it a similar profile as one would have expected from one of their firearms. Salarians were notoriously fond of small-scale operations, usually strictly off the books missions that would bring untold amounts of hellfire to their doorstep if they were ever discovered, and they needed the craft to pull it off. Small, fast, and extremely efficient, salarian corvettes were among the most iconic of the salarian fleets as much as cruisers were ubiquitous for turians. It was an appropriate vessel to receive a wanted prisoner, as it likely had a containment field in its brig that was second to none.

What emerged from the docking arm was a small armed precession of seven mercenaries, three asari, two turians, and two humans in the ironic black and grey purple-striped armour of Siame Industries PMCs and security teams. All were armed with assault rifles, likely one of the newer Rosenkov Materials line of Kovalyov rifles. From her run-ins with Siame Industries, they weren’t fans of skimping out on proper gear.

That would have been nice. Tanya thought, her mind briefly flittering to the crapshoot that was whatever Nova had carried in the dozens of crates littered around Tyrus’ cargo bay.

One of the asari and a turian approached as the rest of their team fanned out, establishing a perimeter, securing their escape route and taking a knee, weapons trained on possible threats. It was too much to hope that they’d be idiots. The duo stopped in front of Kesik and the turian called up his omni-tool, holding it up to Kesik’s face. The turian blinked, apparently surprised. “It’s actually him.” He said.

The asari remained impassive. Tanya smirked. “What, you Siame Industries blokes think that you’re the only ones who are good at their jobs? I’ve been hunting slavers for the past seven years, love.”

“So it would seem, Miss Piers.” The asari said. “What account do you want the credits transferred to?”

Tanya held up her arm, her fingers running a sequence on the same hand as the omni-tool activated. Her shotgun remained firmly in her other hand as she read the display. A pair of quiet pings were almost lost against the whirling servos of the omni-tool, and a quick timestamp appeared, the message was sent 4 minutes and 32 seconds before. The teams were set.

“This one, if you could. The longer I’m stuck with this filth, the more I’m worried his stench is going to impregnate my armour.” Tanya said.

The asari followed the instructions, her face a stone wall until her eyes raised a quarter of an inch, concern across her face. “What is this, the account is-”

Suddenly, the asari’s omnitool shattered in an explosion of sparks, the account number having triggered a self-destruct sequence that piggybacked over the account frequency into the asari’s omnitool, overloading the process with the same command that commandos and assassins used to destroy their personal evidence. The sparks were enough to blind the asari and distract the turian long enough for Tanya’s Katana shotgun to come to point, the weapon barking loudly as four shots were fired in quick succession. The asari’s chest caved in from the second blast and the turian’s face was all but removed save one set of mandibles on his left side. Tanya pulled Kesik behind the crates they had been sitting on that she had placed there for this purpose and quickly hit the command for the cuffs to become undone. A pistol was shoved in his hands. “I want that back in one piece!” she exclaimed, calling up her omni-tool as rounds plinked off of the heavy crates she was using as cover with her companions. She opened a communication channel with the team. “Get moving! Secure the docking arm!”

As expected, the sight of the docking lights for E-15 indicating the ship's arrival was enough to prompt Iosif into taking his own position close to E-14, leaning against a crate which had been left undisturbed for the better half of an hour, whilst only a few other dockworkers seemed to pass by every now and then. That way, if any of the security types under Siame's payroll took notice of him they'd be more likely to shrug it off as some random merc waiting to meet some ship's crew upon their arrival for whatever reason mercs usually had. Well, in all fairness - he was a merc and that was his plan, only in this instance the ship he was waiting for happened to be theirs. Just to be safe, though, he rested a hand on his holstered M-6 where it wouldn't have been seen from the viewpoint of anyone stood at E-15. It'd be quicker to ready than his Avenger, and from experience it was better to draw before your enemy had the chance in any situation.

Just at that moment, Tanya's voice spoke in a hushed tone through the omni-tool link to the rest of his armour, and with that he responded in an equally subtle voice so as not to draw attention from anyone who might've been eavesdropping "Got it." After that, it wasn't long before the salarian corvette came into view and he couldn't help but admire the ship out of the corner of his eye. Salarians could be tricky, slippery bastards when they wanted to be - a harsh lesson he'd learned - but their technology was well ahead of all the other races by a long shot, and their ships were no exception - sleek, efficient and more reliable than any human ship of it's calibre could've ever hoped to be. It was almost painful to think that he was probably going to be relayed to the role of co-pilot or something similar once they'd cleaned out the security team, but either way he was looking forward to making his comeback on a vessel such as this.

However, once he noticed the security crew under Siame's payroll filing out from the airlock, he knew the time for admiration had long-since passed. A quick scan over the docking bay was enough to point out that Siame preferred to uphold it's reputation even with its hired guns, going so far as to equip them with one of the newer Rosenkovs that he'd once given thought to purchasing back when Rael had first snatched away that dossier of information that would've been very compromising for a number of company executives, that same dossier which had prompted Siame to pay a generous fee in exchange for that backstabbing salarian bastard, Jedrah, to betray both the quarian and Iosif himself. Thinking of it, at the very least, had given Iosif a new-found anticipation for the moment when he'd be able to put a few extra rounds into these security contractors who were being overpaid to wear Siame's colours.

Watching the 'exchange' of the bait take place between Tanya and one of the contractors, he quickly took note of the fact that three of them were asari. Generally, he found it better to pick off asari targets first in any combat scenario, if only for the fact that their biotics would pose an extra threat - and he didn't feel like having the crate he was leant against being used to scrape his mangled corpse against the docking floor of Cartagena Station, or freezing him in place with a stasis whilst the others were picked off. Judging how accurate he'd be from a quick-draw at this distance, he decided to set his sights on an asari stood closer towards his range than the other two - who also happened to be throwing a suspicious glance towards his general direction every now and then. If he was fortunate, he'd get in a good number of hits before the bitch had a chance to use her biotics and bring her down.

And just on cue, the sudden exclamation of the other contractor as her omni-tool's self-destructed was enough of a prompt to spring Iosif into action. Quickly withdrawing his M-6 from its holster, he levelled the pistol with his asari target and fired off a volley of rounds towards her mid-section just as a luminous blue glow had begun to envelop her arm. Unsurprisingly, the first few impacts only managed to dent her shields, but one of the latter shots managed to punch through her arm - disrupting her biotics - whilst another passed through her hip. With that, he ducked behind his crate to avoid the next volley of enemy fire aimed towards his direction, and used the quick respite of cover to activate his tech armour. Tanya's voice once again spoke to him through his comms setup, and at that he quickly poked out from behind his cover to fire another volley of shots towards the security contractors as the others made their advance.

Kali paid the vague chatter little mind as she waited, standing silent and thoughtful with the tech team. It had not taken long for her to gather her meagre possessions; the spartan attitude towards belongings on the Flotilla had still not left her, a remnant of the childhood that now felt so very far away. It was difficult not to lose focus during the nerve-wracking wait for the Siame ship to appear - despite having steadied herself and dedicated herself to Siame's downfall, her inexperience still nagged at the back of her mind, and she felt out-of-place in a group like this. She spared the rest of the hacking team a glance, trying to gain some measure of those who may hold her life in their hands, and whose she may hold in hers, in but a short while.

Jaerdi and Mark; the guards and protectors. Unfortunately, she trusted them not even so far as she could spit - and with her visor obscuring her face, that was not far at all. Mark seemed a mercenary through and through, in this for his own benefit and nobody else's, and judging by Kosso and Tanya's reactions to his arrival Kali had no doubts that he would betray them if it suited him. By now, however, she was fairly used to dealing with morally ambiguous characters with a penchant for looking out for numero uno alone-o – living on Omega had taught her something, at least. Jaerdi was a somewhat different creature. The air and essence of ice hung behind wherever he went, professional and yet menacing and implacable in said menace. The callous disregard with which he had suggested "mishaps" for the locals on Cartagena, the very folk Kali was here to protect, chilled and angered her, and she had little doubt that he was involved in the bloody and brutal firefight raging all-too-conveniently on the other side of the station. Disgusted, she averted her eyes – though she did so silently, without comment.

Her fellow techies inspired at least a little more confidence. Although Kali's general fondness for turians and their civic-oriented mentality may or may not apply in the exceptional case of Aran Nykerius, she could rely at the very least on his professionalism. An information broker did not, could not last long if their clients could not trust in them and their honesty – she thought it unlikely that Sleuth would turn on them and damage his trustworthy reputation. As for Loral... seeing a fellow quarian after spending so long among aliens, humans and turians and vorcha and volus, was thrilling and carried a sweet taste of nostalgia with it. She had barely clapped eyes on another of her race in a long while, and though a voice in the back of her mind questioned the presence of an elder, unlikely to be on his Pilgrimage, in an area of space in which the Flotilla would have little interest, her excitement drowned out her caution. The strong community bonds Kali's people form had been a keenly-felt absence in her life of late – and now, as uncertain as she was about the crew, she craved something concrete, something familiar, among so much that was strange and shaky. Kali had to fight not to stare at him, though she knew nobody would be likely to see her gaze behind the visor, afire with curiosity.

A splash of colour briefly drew her attention away, to the other group, and the sight was so bizarre that she had to hold back a faint chuckle. A tie dye shirt, really? Daryna - the other odd duckling, along with Kali herself - seemed similarly misplaced, but also seemed to lack the self-awareness to pick up on that. She looked faintly ridiculous in her colourful attire, and Kali resolved to keep an eye on her. Some few of the crew were as sharks; more than simply being on the wrong side of the law, they seemed vicious and cunning, and Kali felt it would be all too easy for anyone as seemingly clueless as Daryna to get in far over their heads.

Then again, she thought, her mind turning inwards, what am I right now, if not in over my head? Despite training and warnings prior to her departure from the Flotilla, she had never been prepared for something like this. Kali naturally tended towards introspection in quiet moments, and it was doing her no favours now, only filling her with doubts. In fact, it never seemed to do her much good - with a small and hidden smile, she reflected that she would not even be involved in this madness in the first place had she been any different. The doubts that trait brought up now plagued her, ever-present in the corners of her mind, whispering – and she could feel a slight tremor in her hands, the only remaining outward show of her nervousness. She could only hope it was subtle enough that even sharp eyes wouldn't cut through her and see the uncertainty at her core.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a voice addressing her – time to go. It was only for a moment that she froze, but freeze she did, before following the others out of the hangar and heading towards the terminal Sleuth had determined they needed to access.

___________________________________________

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She stared at them for a moment, willing them to steady, but her body defied her. She had but one task, delegated by Sleuth, challenging but not nearly beyond her ability. And yet her hands would not stop shaking. It was the knowledge that even now, either her new allies or Siame soldiers were screaming, shooting, bleeding and dying. She had been close to death before, but never involved with the cause. She had not expected it to affect her so.

It took a deep, long breath to calm herself. Putting the thought of the fighting aside, she thought back to long days spent on her research in her little apartment in Omega – constructing and deconstructing, coding and coding and coding, programming, attempting to understand more and more about artificial intelligence. She thought back to days spent on the Flotilla, learning the ins and outs of computer systems aboard the Stalingrad, hacking into them over and over, finding as many loopholes as she could, and with a glance at Loral she could almost believe she were back home.

And suddenly, she saw what she needed to do, and her fingers were flying across her too-expensive omni-tool, and she felt certainty flood her again. This was what she did and loved and knew, after all. This was what she had come to the Terminus systems for – and furthermore, this sense of life and excitement was what she wanted to preserve by fighting Siame, wasn't it? Kali smiled to herself as her 'tool flickered green, speaking with confidence. “I'm done, Sleuth.”

Aran stared at Mark and Jaerdi shamelessly, his eyes shifting between them, seizing them up for the job ahead. He realized this would probably be perceived as rude or weird but in a business like this, Aran attached little value to etiquette or politeness. He needed to know what these two bodyguards of his would be good at. He decided that the burly human would be best for a big shock-and-awe entrance, shouting people down, the whole drop-your-weapons routine. If that didn't work, the immaculate salarian looked like the prime candidate for a quick and merciless backstab to any armed resistance. The others gathered in the hangar a short distance away from them, but as the last member of their group, the young quarian female -- what was her name? Kali? -- joined them, Aran nodded to himself, cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Looks like we're complete. Having studied the layout of this station that Tanya so generously provided, we fortunately don't have to walk very far. Whoever designed this station decided to install the entire docking bay control station and all relevant comms panels in the same chamber. Station HQ, if you will, though it's referred to as Administrator Var'uun's office. And it's right above us." Aran pointed a finger at the docking bay's ceiling. He was carrying a backpack, shifting his hunched posture even more, and he adjusted the straps a little. "I've brought some equipment with me in case the station's security protocols prove challenging, but once we get there, it shouldn't take too long." He turned to Mark Jaerdi more directly, pulled a small device out of his backpack and handed it to Mark.

"This is a comms blocker. Once we get upstairs, I need you to go to C-Pat headquarts, conveniently close to the Adminstrator's headquarters, and plug this into their comms panel. Kill or disable anyone you find there just to be sure. It'll make sure Cartagena Patrol doesn't swarm all over our friends down here in the hangar to shoot them in the back. Got it?" He didn't wait for an answer and instead turned to Kali and cleared his throat again, addressing her directly, noticing she seemed a little zoned out. Typical. "Quarian. Time to go."

---

Armed resistance was, indeed, present. Aran stood back behind Jaerdi and Mark as they worked their magic, hiding behind whatever cover was avilable as they moved up through the station. When he saw an opportunity, he motioned for Kali to follow him and the two engineers slipped away to the Adminstrator's office. "Remember, go to C-Pat headquarters," he told Mark over comms. "Hurry!"

As he and Kali left the noise of battle behind them, moving through empty corridors with his cloaking device activated, he used quiet, non-verbal radio clicks -- one for stay, two for go -- to guide Kali in his footsteps from hiding spot to hiding spot. Whatever ruckus Mark and Jaerdi had caused seemed to work, as when the two engineers arrived at the door to Var'uun's office, it was unguarded. The electronic lock on the door was swiftly undone with a wave of Aran's Omni-tool. He drew his submachine gun from the folds of his robe, motioned for Kali to arm herself as well, and entered the room.

His heart was racing. This was the most personally, physically involved with an operation he had been in over a decade. He trained his weapon right at the Administrator, the only person in the man's chambers, and spoke quickly and quietly. "Raise your hands above your head. My name is Aran. I'm an associate of Tanya. You remember her, don't you?" He didn't wait for an answer, but instead approached, his gun still raised, and scanned the rest of the room quickly. The control panels he needed to access were off to the side, next to a large viewing port into outer space. Clearly, the Adminstrator picked a good spot to oversee his station. Aran saw several Siame Industries ships hanging in the void and stifled a gasp. He had to hurry.

"Listen, Administrator. I need you to do absolutely nothing for the next 30 minutes. There may be a bit of a shootout in the hangar below and we really don't want C-Pat to interfere with that. I know that's their job, but if you just let us take care of these Siame goons, we'll be out of your hair before you know it. Okay?" Aran looked at the Administrator again, who had his hands in the air at this point. He looked flustered and frustrated at the same time -- clearly, Tanya had not told him of the potential for a shootout. However, realizing he didn't have much of a choice, he nodded. Just to be sure, Aran waved his Omni-tool in the Administrator's direction and fried the personal comms systems he had on him.

Turning to Kali, he directed her to one of the panels. "Lock the ship in the hangar down. It's held in place by docking clamps -- disable the manual override controls. Make sure it can't leave."

He turned to one of the other panels himself, his eyes soaking in the readouts. He hooked up with it via his Omni-tool, uploading several virus bombs to disable the rest of the station's external comm panels. This wasn't the only one capable of making contact with the SI ships outside, but after Aran was done, it was. Now he had sole control over communications with the support ships. He breathed a sigh of relief -- the prospect of the support ships potentially opening fire on the station was one of his least favorite prospects, but that seemed a very remote possibility now.

"I'm done, Sleuth," he heard Kali say. Aran gave her a thumbs up and a crooked turian smile before messaging Tanya. "We're in position. Ship's locked down and comms to the support ships outside are disabled. Mark and Jaerdi are taking care of C-Pat."

Daryna was finishing an energy drink when she heard the firefight in the docking bay. Daryna was nowhere near that particular area; rather she was at the heart of the Cartagena marketplace. She assumed that the ship had landed. Then again, it could just be a run of the mill batarian shootout. Still, Daryna had settled on a plan she was rather fond of, mostly because it involved excessive use of her biotics. She planned to infiltrate the ship and prevent the captain from calling for help, but call her a frog's uncle if technology hadn't beat her to the punch. If only Dominate would work on a computer... think of all the vids I could download for free... Daryna stood up and turned away from the bar. The people of Cartagena Station were still going about their daily business, but several were looking around, wondering what was going on. Most of C-Pat had scurried away to the docking bay, creating a whole big mess of trouble for Daryna's new allies. "If any rogue cops with hearts of gold think about crashing your party," Daryna had informed the group over omni-tool before the ship landed, "I'll draw them away from the dock. Good luck down there."

Daryna cracked her knuckles and smiled. "Riot time," she declared. She saw a pawn shop nearby with jewelry in the windows. That would make a good start. She focused on a passing batarian and watched as he raised his pistol and shot out the shop's window, then dove into the store to begin looting. She released control of him, only to see him continue looting. That was, Daryna always thought, the most interesting part of Dominate. The power of suggestion. The batarian thought he was looting the store, and he wanted to loot the store. Soon, several batarians were firing their guns into the air, into store windows, and looting shops... most of which was Daryna's doing. She made two krogan butt heads in the middle of the walkway, a hanar carry a salarian away, and an asari take off her top and run through the street.

And for the coup de grâce, she spotted a fuel container next to the bar's generator. She focused her mind as she made a nearby batarian raise his arm and pull the trigger. A sufficiently large explosion engulfed the marketplace; not big enough to do any real damage, but big enough to draw attention away from the docks. Just as she imaged, C-Pat began pouring in to the scene. She had one of the looters (they were doing just fine on their own, now) fire a shot at one of the cops' chestplates. His shields deflected it, but it did freak him out enough to call for backup, and lots of it.

There had to be at least thirty citizens looting ten different shops, now. C-Pat was pouring in in force. Daryna, meanwhile, had all but collapsed in a nearby corner, watching her work unfold. The biotics had left her tired, and hungry, but she knew her limits, and how to work around them. Making one krogan last an hour in a shootout or go beserk may have taken more power, but it would also have been less effective a distraction. Thirty tiny tremors that lead to an avalanche is much preferred. Work smarter, not harder. If she didn't learn that lesson from her father then they didn't learn any. "This is for you, dad," Daryna whispered to herself as she watched C-Pat unleash rubber bullets on the rioters and try to stop the fires. "May not seem like it now, but I'm coming to get you. Promise."