As events unfolded, Mirage found himself agreeing with their navigator -- a turian who turned out to be called Haze. Amused by the similar aliases Mirage chuckled, producing a burst of sound from his rebreather that sounded like an animal being strangled.

"Comms, yeah, among other things. Automated defense systems, credit accounts, cybersecurity, alarms... anything I can break into without getting up," Mirage elaborated. "Just don't count on me in a fight."

The pilot introduced herself as well, a female turian named Dex, which made for an entirely turian bridge crew so far. Mirage acknowledged her with a polite nod before they were all interrupted by Tonka, the krogan. He was the one who brought up Omega first and Mirage added his own quiet barrage of whispered curses to Haze's stern disapproval.

"I was hoping to avoid going back there so soon," Mirage grumbled while fiddling with one of his Omni-tools. The navigator and the pilot plotted their course while the krogan left and someone else entered the bridge -- a male human that Mirage recognized as their co-pilot, Iosif.

”I take it we’ll all be working together, up here?” the human said while settling down into the co-pilot's seat. "That's right, human. You must be the token alien. I wonder if he'll suffice to meet our diversification quota," Mirage replied, followed by another one of his ghastly laughs. He'd never cared for humans much. They weren't around on Omega when the turian grew up there and their extremely rapid expanse into galactic civilization struck Mirage as unseemly. Like an invasive species that doesn't know its place.

"Alright, there we go," Mirage mumbled as the speakers scattered around the bridge blared, coming to life with the system's relevant comms chatter. He'd pinpointed the Illium planetary defense channels and the bands used by ships to ask docking permission; a relatively pointless exercise, since they were about to leave the system, but it proved the turian knew what he was doing. Mirage winced and turned the volume down to a level of significantly more pleasant background noise. Watching Haze's plotted course on the navigation console, Mirage finetuned one of the channels to listen to the chatter around the mass relay, but all seemed quiet. "I think we're good to go."

Yet another person entered the bridge right after he finished saying that, though this time it was one of the asari, echoing Mirage and Haze's sentiments about Omega. "Why are we going to Omega?" Mirage shrugged, an almost imperceptible motion beneath his swaddled black robes. "Necessary evil, asari," he said after Haze finished his astute and concise explanation. "Look at it this way: we would have gone there sooner or later anyway, in this line of work. Now we're just... getting it out of the way."

For a moment, Tia seethed in silence as she listened to the various explanations. Was nothing about this day going to go right?

Finally, she took a deep breath through her nose, trying to exhale her frustration. There wasn't anything she could do about it; she was stuck here for the time being. This is what I get for being curious. "Dock at Orahu District. I have no desire to be shot today."

Turning, she departed from the bridge. She needed time to think, to sort out just what she was going to do. The obvious plan was to stay aboard the ship; as long as her former employers didn't know she was there, there wasn't any risk of them coming after her. Whether or not there would be any other complications was a different issue entirely.

Haze replied rather hesitantly Dex noticed he wasn’t happy, “Well… You got it, Dex. We can use Thail’s field to slingshot off of to get to the relay. After that, it’s a short jump to the Omega Nebula. Shouldn’t take too much, considering her thrusters are out of whack.”

Dex agreed noting she was thinking that would be just the ticket. A human joined them shortly assuming the copilot seat. Dex took notice of his prosthetic arm. She wondered if he would be interested in upgrading it with Jorick. Dex was always on the look out to send Jorick more business for his little clinic on Palaven.

”I take it we’ll all be working together, up here?”

Dex gave the human a lazy smile, “Welcome to the bridge. You can give me your resume later, as of right now I’m going to need your help steadying this bulky beast. Thail’s gravity is going to be ridiculous.”

He nodded booting up his console.

Haze delivered the plotted course onto her terminal. Immediately she went to work adjusting the junction points to her liking. Despite his apparent disapproval Haze worked quickly. Dex liked his professionalism.

While off to her right she heard Mirage’s mangled laughing at his own joke, something about diversification. Dex hoped her co-pilot would be comfortable around three Turians. She had no personal connections to the Relay 314 Incident but knew humans sometimes harboured ill will against it.

She felt the tension in the air, no one was happy with the news of heading off to Omega. She was well aware it wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. She personally wasn't a fan by any means, it was just often a cesspool of where her marks would congeal to. Omega had a way with attracting the worst of the galaxy. It was shit for visitors while it was hell for those living on it. A dread spread through the bridge. An unspoken dark cloud hovered over their heads.

An asari walked straight into the bridge demanding why they were heading to Omega. Haze supplemented with the necessity of fuel and parts, vocalizing his distaste. While Mirage said begrudgingly it was a necessary evil, something to get out of the way. The asari was not impressed by their answers. Despite her tone it was hard not to notice her concealed anxiety. It was the same anxiety Mirage and Haze were giving off.

Silence stretched then finally she replied, “Dock at Orahu District. I have no desire to be shot today.” She marched away exiting the bridge.

Dex casted her eyes down at the console then swore under her breath pushing up from her chair to follow the asari out. Remembering some golden piece of advice her parents had given her just before she stepped on the shuttle to go to boot camp nearly 20 years ago.

It was always best to lay your own grounds before someone did it for you.

“Cesdila or Kia…” Dex stopped the asari by calling her by the completely wrong names.

She snapped at Dex the proper pronunciation of her name.

“Tia, sorry, I’m shit with names.” Dex apologized sheepishly. Tia looked irritable like she just wanted to throw a punch in the hull.

Dex coughed into her mechanical fist then carried on, “Look I’m well aware that Omega isn’t an ideal vacation spot. It’s a shit place to go and even shittier to live there. Hell, even the gangs don’t like it.” Tia stared at her waiting for Dex to make her point.

“Captain Luzami is dead. It’s fucking stupid but it means there’s no one here to pull rank or force you to do a single thing. If you’re happier not setting foot on Omega, then don’t. Keep your head down here. I’m sure you won’t be the only one not wanting to leave.” Dex said sincerely hoping Tia would at least find some comfort in that.“If you’re worried you’ll miss out on grabbing supplies… I can grab them for you.” Dex offered catching Tia’s dark blue eyes with her own honey brown.

Duuka's search of the various rooms of the ship provided him with the answer that he had suspected all along; The ship didn't have anything in the way of internal security. It did make sense through; The ship was very small and thus actually setting up something like cameras or turrets was kind of pointless. Besides, it was doubtful that any pirates would want to board the ship in the first place, since it clearly didn't look like it had anything worth salvaging.

Most beings didn't have the foresight to see potential through....

Completely ignoring the explosion in order to make his way towards the kitchen area, ducking and sliding through the various different sized doorways with a lot more ease then a lot of the rest of the crew seemed to be having. He had noticed noticed that most of his peers had brought along a crate or two of their personal belongings; All Duuka had brought with him was the Terminator I rifle that he was keeping on his person and the 'armor' that he was wearing. It was all that he had to bring with him...

Stepping into the kitchen area and looking around to see that there were currently two humans, the drell, the krogan and one of the asari already there, he offered up a polite little wave before walking over to see what was one of the random storage areas that didn't already have someone searching through it. Deciding to at least try and get an idea of who he was working with, he tried to remember some of the social lessons that his mother had taught him. "You know if I had known that this ship would have been heading straight for Omega, I wouldn't have bothered sneaking onto that ship to Ilium. I could have just waited for you guys to have shown up at home."

Studying the Turian with a neutral expression, Tia considered her options. The pilot certainly appeared to be sincere in her words, and it had been a while since anyone had spoken to her in such a manner. The differing facial structures made reading their expressions slightly more difficult.

After a moment's consideration, Tia closed her eyes. "The docks and shipyards of Omega are controlled almost exclusively, either directly or by proxy, by the three main gangs: Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack. It is impossible to enter the station without passing through one of their territories. The Blood Pack control the fewest docks, but they are used primarily by their own members. Most people avoid them, for obvious reasons. Since they control the majority of the smuggling trade, the Eclipse control more points of entry on the station than anyone. Orahu District is firmly within Blue Suns territory, and they keep the most rigid control over their holdings." She opened her eyes, giving Dex a cold stare. "My desire to avoid our destination is one borne of necessity. I have an agreement to honour: I do not return to Omega, and in exchange, I get to live. Had I known this would be our destination before hand, I would not have boarded this ship in the first place."

Tia turned away, speaking over her shoulder. "As I told you, I have no desire to be shot. Now, unless there is anything else, I need to think."

"Her tech has done much worse, at least it was mild this time. And it didn't explode in anyone's face either. Though before we all start chewing each other out, let's at least know what to call each other. My name is Vellios Malkai, my companion with the exploding droids is Serena Mathews."

"It would be a dull life if we didn't blow shit up from time to time. Tanya Carson." She replied, offering a hand to Vellios and Serena in turn. She watched impassively as Serena tried to explain her fuck-up to the sour-looking asari, probably wishing she didn't have to do that song and dance too many times before the day was through. At least her sense of humour was intact; it counted for a lot when living in the cramped confines of a ship. A joke here and there could help defuse some otherwise tense situations, such as blowing up the cargo hold in the first hour of disembarking.

Resting bitchface asari continuing on, Vellios, Serena, and Tanya were left to their devices. Tanya returned to her work station, gesturing for Shithead to come to her. Her omni-tool sprang to life as she began the data transfer from Shithead's surveillance of the buggy. She'd send the drone to take a look at the small skid steer next. As she began to review the data, she called out to the others. "So, what's your story? You two seem to know each other, which is more than the rest of us can say. What made you decide to respond to sketchy classified postings you probably saw on some bathroom stall somewhere?"

Kasyra left the Hangar even faster when she heard someone comment about her laughter. She was determined to remain miserable no matter what and humor wouldn’t help that. She paid little heed to the intercom as she traversed the short distance to the kitchen and began looking through the supplies. Something about the ship's weapon being out of operation. She was more surprised that there even was a weapon at all. The fact that it didn’t work was to be expected.

Then it was declared that they were going to Omega.

She wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. On the hand, it was a Blue Suns stronghold. That carried with it a mix of both dread and anticipation. On the other hand, you could barely swing a dead Varren anywhere in the galaxy without hitting a Blue Sun, they were practically everywhere and she would inevitably run into them again a few times before she was ready.

She concluded that she wouldn’t worry about it, especially as any protest she had would likely both fall on deaf ears and spark the asking of questions she preferred not to answer. In the meantime she would avoid the Blue Suns as best she could. She could not guarantee that her Omni blade wouldn’t be at the throat of the first blue and white armored merc she saw. Recent events were still too raw.

The Turian supplies were respectable. They were all Turian supplies, nothing Quarian in origin. Dextro supplies always were unless you were on the Migrant fleet itself - they didn’t produce enough food to export. And in Kasy’s opinion, no one would want to import that stuff anyway. By the time it’d been processed, what few interesting flavors were in the Rannoch native plants grown on the fleet were thoroughly eradicated.

The kitchen was still less than optimal for her purposes however. There was no purification equipment at all, which meant she’d have to be extra careful in what she ate and take additional immuno boosters until she could rectify the situation.

She also noticed the human with the overly ornate looking drink. He had a look as though he owned the place already, and Kasyra suspected that he fancied himself the ship's cook. She rather hoped he didn’t try to cook the dextro food. Or at the very least, the food for her. In her opinion if you had no way of tasting the food without it killing you, you had no right to be trying to make it.

It was then that the crews Drell approached her, a rakish grin plastered across his blue face.

”Heh. How do you like the bird?” He asked, referring to the ship. ”It might not be a great splendid one. But it got wings.”

“I don’t” She said dryly. “Even the Sherana is in better condition than this, and she’s well over three hundred. Of course she wasn’t a pile of junk the moment she was built either. This thing… Well, you don’t see a lot of Volus ships in the fleet. Sure they’re easy to get, but they are designed to fall apart after a decade or two. On the fleet we have a name for ships like this. ‘Spare parts deliveries.’ I’m just hoping this particular spare part delivery has a few years left before the planned obsolescence hits and all the critical systems start failing…” Almost as an afterthought she added ”My name is Kasyra by the way.”

Then she noticed the Vorcha. In particular, his face paint. It was crude, yet decidedly quarian in style, the swirling pattern not unlike an enlarged, childish version of the pattern adorning her own clothing. She would have to find out more about that one. If it was some sick trophy denoting that he had killed a lot of her people… He would certainly pay for it, crewmate or not.

"The robot was mine, and all I can promise is that I won't be blowing any holes in the ship. If I had the money for the materials required to make that kind of bang when a drone broke, we wouldn't be on this ship." Serena answered quickly, her eyes then snapped to him causing Vellios to cock his head in curiosity if she was about to address his earlier statement. Naturally, he was right in his guess when her look turned into a heated glare. He held back a chuckl, finding it rather amusing whenever she got pissed. Most might consider it made her cuter.

"That was one time, and the Vorcha was fine afterwards!" Serena commented, drawing a raised eyebrow until she realized the event he was actually referring to. She looked like a Varren eating the rations, adding in a higher pitched, accusing tone when she recalled the second time. "Okay, twice, and your dashing good looks haven't suffered from it. I did warn you not to get so close!"

Vellios’s head turned, his eyes watched Serena follow the other techie to the intercom in order to address the concerned and rather pissed off voice from over the speakers. Through Serena had to add one last comment to the asari’s last worried statement, seeming to think the alien was out to interfere and stop her should she become a danger to the others. "I promise that there won't be any holes in the ship, and that I won't break anything, but I'm not going to stop working on prototypes."

Vellios just shook his head, his way of tsking the human female, before his attention returned to the asari’s appearance. She wore a visor, oddly enough, which covered her deep, pretty blue eyes and wearing her armor, the suit being dented, banged up and shot in several places clearly. Most notable scar was her head crest. It appeared to either been an explosion accident that went wrong or another assassination that didn’t go as planned, leaving about two/thirds of the crest behind and destroying the common symmetry. If she wasn’t an asari-he was wary of the mind melding aspect of the species unlike most males because honestly, his hell should stay his own- then he might’ve considered flirting, buying her a drink and spending a few nights exploring what her history had left on her.

Vellios, smirking more at the thought while doubting it would ever happen, had to lower his head. Still, fantasizing over it was rather fun in the end.

"Malkai and Mathews.”The asari listened then repeated their names, as if memorizing them then made a dry reply. “This ship is barely holding itself together as it is. At least wait until we're planetside again before you start helping it along?"

Her tone didn’t bother the turian in the least, Vellios shrugged in his usual easy going attitude even through the comment wasn't directed at him. Personally, he knew it could’ve been a lot worse but instead decided to take his shipmate’s disapproval in stride rather than cause friction unless necessary. They were going to be trapped on this floating heap for a while now which meant any conflict would last longer than normal, might as well make the most of it. “ Don’t worry, I’ll keep her explosions at a minimal. At least she’s not packing something heavier in those things like C4 or thermite which would’ve made a more exciting...boom. ”

His hands fell to his side naturally, the thumbs hooking instinctively to his pants helm while he waited for the asari to introduce herself. Seeming to have the same idea, her mouth moved just when an another announcement came over the intercom from their favorite source.

“Attention all crew, we’re plotting a course for Omega. We’ll be making a jump within the hour. If you haven’t already started on taking stock of what we need, do that while you have time.” There was a pause, then Vellios imagined a shit eating grin would've spread around the speaker’s face, his mind assuming it was one of the turians due to the sound, when she added an after thought. "Pack your shit, folks.”

This bit of news seemed not to settle with his current associate obvious when her eyes widened in surprise and she cursed under her breath, turning on heel. Rudely she then sulked from the hangar bay in a rush, his assumption she was heading to talk to the pilot. Vellios tilted his head a bit, unsure what to think, then passed over it when another announcement crept over for all to hear. He recognized the voice as the same one that talked about several years old targeting system and revealed this heap actually had a gun, something of a surprise to him since he was sure it would’ve blown them up should they have fired it.

“Gun is good to go. For now anyway. The fix is temporary and we lost maybe thirty percent in the coolant tank. But I don't expect to be shooting that thing alot just yet.”There was a brief pause while the voice continued.”The thing is sloppy work too, they all but welded the thing and jury rigged it to draw from the Mass Core. Crazy stuff.”

“Things keep getting more interesting by the second.” Commented Vellios quietly, his body twisted to face the two remaining females. Now that they were done talking to the pilot, so Vellios assumed, Tanya decided to introduce herself. He raised a hand to shake hers with a firm, yet gentle grip before releasing it while likely Serena did the same. Again, his mind absorbed another crewmate to memory. Caucasian woman with dark grey eyes, short cut hair with most of it on the right side, and confident in her movements, making him like her more and more the longer he was in her presence. She was around the same height as Serena causing him to strain his neck down to look her in the eye. Thankfully, she decided to move rather than sit and idly talk, allowing him to crane it back upward to default position where the pain faded a bit. Being tall could be a nightmare and in the back of his mind, he was rather glad no one onboard was a volus or he would have to invest into some seriously strong painkillers later. Or learn to bend his knee when speaking.

The omnitool glowed then flickered, likely transferring some data collected, while she also gave out commands to the drone. The thing still blaring out Elcor heavy metal wheeled over the next project, drawing a brief look from the turian who watched for a few moments, then stepped toward Sal’s blown corpse. He bent down on one knee and reached for the metal bits, wiring and other parts to place in a nearby pile where Serena could sort out what was salvageable and what was a loss. His face looked at Serena, kindly warning her not to shoot off at her mouth immediately, when Tanya asked a question.

“So, what's your story? You two seem to know each other, which is more than the rest of us can say. What made you decide to respond to sketchy classified postings you probably saw on some bathroom stall somewhere?”

On hearing her interest, Vellios’ head perked up with a ready reply. “Serena and I have worked together for a year now. She’s the techie, I’m the muscle and hired gun for most our jobs. I also do a bit of other stuff like basic tech knowledge, hacking, and am a bit of jack of trades type turian. Though it’s only the bare essentials of what a cadet would know outside muscle and hired gun. Enough to understand and be walked through on how to do it, but not enough to change my tactics on the spot should things go wrong.”

He was careful not to slice himself on the jagged piece that served as Sal’s covering, his fingers delicately setting the scrape aside and nearest himself. He didn't want Serena to cut herself on it and if she grabbed it, he knew she would. His voice continued in the same casual way, his voice holding a slight glee in his last part and eyeing Serena's hand to ensure she didn't try. “It’s actually Serena who decides the missions, I just tag along because she makes life...interesting.

"Yeah, we are. I'm the nav man. Name's Haze."

Iosif tossed a silent nod towards the navigator's general direction, making a mental note of the turian's name, 'Haze'. Then he caught wind of one of the others.

"That's right, human. You must be the token alien. I wonder if he'll suffice to meet our diversification quota,"

Iosif snorted at the respirator-bound turian's quip, amused by the notion. Up here, he was the alien. Well, not like that was a problem. Say what you would about turians; for all the rigid, orderly military structure that they were known for, he'd come to find that a lot of those who struck out into the freelance world had some serious smart-mouths - it seemed like this one was no exception. For the most part, he found it entertaining.

“Welcome to the bridge. You can give me your resume later, as of right now I’m going to need your help steadying this bulky beast. Thail’s gravity is going to be ridiculous.”

At that, his attention briefly shifted over to the pilot - who coincidentally shared the same taste in limbs - and nodded, before snapping back to the console before him. It'd been a while since he'd been behind the helm of a vessel of this size and so he was admittedly, a little rusty; nothing that a little co-ordination wouldn't have solved. Of course, it didn't help that the Borealis/Jalopy was far rustier than his slightly out-of-practice pilot skills and more difficult to manoeuvre, but a challenge like this would do him some good in the long run.

Professional as ever, he leaned forward and began plotting new information into the console, he did as he could to work with the pilot on manoeuvring around the gas giant - only barely paying attention to the ongoing discussion about Omega.

"As I told you, I have no desire to be shot. Now, unless there is anything else, I need to think."

From the sounds of it, none of them were particularly thrilled about heading back to that hive that epitomised the lawlessness of the Terminus Systems, though Iosif didn't exactly count himself among the skeptics. Sure, he'd had his bad days on this wretched hive of scum and villainy - losing one partner whilst the other betrayed the both of them among the shittiest of those bad days - yet he had no specific taboos about eing here. Worst case scenario, he ran into a few familiar four-eyed faces or a single, salarian face (though that wasn't exactly a bad thought), yet aside from that, as far as he was concerned this place was out to get him as much as anyone else, no more, no less. Still, he opted to raise his opinion on the matter, pitching in between manoeuvres.

"Could also see about docking near the Afterlife District, I guess. Technically it's neutral ground so long as the Queen's nest isn't kicked, might be worth seeing if there's any contracts to be picked up there, too."

Valiss has noticed some of the other crewmen moving into the kitchen. Feeling in a sociable mood, partly from the alcohol, the Asari rose out of her seat. She momentarily paused at the sound of an explosion, a ship of such a small size as this one, you'd hear something like that almost anywhere on it. She sincerely hoped it wasn't any of the ship's systems and assumed it wasn't as the vessel continued moving fine after the disruption.

The announcment of their first destination as Omega did not excite Valiss. There were bad memories on that space station, it was where her last mission as a member of the military had occured. Or more accuratly, gone wrong. She had not been back on that vile place since then. She supposed she could understand the reasoning, Omega was home to the filth of the galaxy. They could find credits there for the taking.

She finished her glass and set it aside as she walked into the kitchen, finding that there were others already there, including a human who she presumed was the cook. Her eyes stayed on the vorcha for a moment, she tried not to glare, having encountered vorcha in the past. They were vicious and unpredictable, it didn't ease her nerves to have on onboard with them. Instead she spoke towards Marco as she entered the scene.

"Fish would be nice, it's gotta be something nice for the maiden voyage for the new crew." Valiss exclaimed, her eyes landing on the quarian female. She always appreciated the way their armor was, it covered their forms tightly. Accentuated the hips and legs, but left their faces a mystery.

"Of course we'd need something for all onboard. Don't think a finely cooked fish would go down well with Kasyra here," Valiss said, smiling at the quarian first, then the others before she introduced herself. "I'm Valiss, not the only asari onboard it seems."

Serena couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as the Asari left. "I'll do my best not to blow a hole in the ship." She called after the retreating biotic's back. She smiled as Tanya introduced herself, shaking the other mechanic's hand in a light, distracted way. She was busy staring at the remains of Sal, analyzing what she could salvage and what she couldn't. She walked over with Vellios, shifiting the scrap into manageable piles, her little drones collecting the piles she was making and then taking them to her work station to be salvaged.

Her head tilted over to look at Tanya, her mouth opening to reply. Vellios beat her to the punch, explaining their history together. She rolled her eyes, hands still gathering salvage, as she explained further. "He means to say that I take the stupidest jobs. The ones that benefit people, and often result in us being outmanned, gunned, and generally screwed. I worked for mercenary companies for a while and got tired of the blood money. So here I am, on a ruined ship, with a smart mouth Turian for a protector, trying to make the galaxy a better place by taking on these contracts."

"You still love me for it and what other Turian will save your sorry ass?" Vellios retorted, his tone not in the least bit angered by her light hearted insult.

She shrugged, smirking at Vellios, tossing more salvage into a pile. "It'll give me a lot of time to work on Barat over there." She inclined her head towards the blueprint above her workstation. "I'm sure I could find someone else. Someone less inclined to talk back. But they wouldn't nearly be as fun." She smiled at Vellios, before turning her attention too Tanya again. In an all too casual voice, she continued. "Completely off topic, but do you, by any chance, play chess? Not the Asari version, but honest to goodness human chess."

"If you say yes, be sure to plug your ears. She squeals rather loudly since she's been looking for a partner for ages." Vellios chuckled softly, knowing the woman's casual talk was leading up to this single point. Girl certianly was desperate for something so mellow, though some of his own habits were far less innocent that he couldn't see the harm in helping her along.

Tanya smiled at the banter between the two partners, thinking back to the easy comradery she had with her platoon in the 63rd. The smile wavered somewhat when she realize that that felt like a lifetime ago, like it happened to a different person. Thankful for the distraction, she looked over at what Serena referred to as Barat, which was the schematic for what looked like some kind of mech. "Chess? On the off occasion, usually there's shotglasses involved." she replied, tilting her head somewhat at Vellios. "Oh fuck me, did I walk into a trap? Tell you what, you don't squeal loudly, and Shithead doesn't go through the entirety of the Flames over Tuchanka catalog at full volume."

Vellios laughed, his voice bellowed out within the hangar while he plopped down to steady himself. His hip touched the metal and his right arm propping him upright, careful not to get sliced on the sharp. His mouth snapped shut abruptly when he spotted Serena going for a rather jagged piece then with surprising speed, his hand swatted out and smacked her soundly on the hand. " Sorry darlin', but you're going to cut yourself again. I only have so much of the first aid kit left after all."

His hand then slid the metal to the same pile as the first, careful to make sure not to slice himself.

Serena's face, scowling at Vellios for his chuckling, suddenly lit up as Tanya said she did, in fact, play chess. Her mouth opened up to say something (probably in that squeal Vellios was talking about.), when Tanya made her threat. Serena's jaw shut with an audible click. If the music currently playing was anything to judge by, the Flames over Tuchanka catalog would be particularly horrible.

"Alright. I'll make you a deal. I'll supply the alcohol and shot glasses, you play me on a regular basis." It was clear that she hoped regular meant daily. "I don't drink, however, so you'll be draining the alcohol all by you-ow! What was that for!?" She glared at Vellios for a moment, before reluctantly accepting his excuse.

"Anyway, what's your story? I'm trying to be a modern day Paladin and Vellios doesn't have the good sense to stop following me around. Why are you on this junker?" Clearly, she thought the matter of chess and alcohol was finished.

"Drink alone? Wouldn't be the first time." Tanya remarked, lean-sitting on one of the crates. "Not much to say about me, really. Enlisted in the Alliance marines after my dad was killed in the First Contact War, kind of a family tradition going back to when my family marched into battle with red coats and shit. Did my time, had a few deployments, ended up getting some really shitty deployments, felt unfulfilled and left. Civilian life was making my skin crawl, I figured my place was out in the stars, fixing things and playing with weapons. Truth be told, I just missed being around people who have a similar focus. A team. Never been a merc before, so I set the bar low. Apparently that was ill-advised."

'Hahaa, what's the matter Serena? The last time I thought you did fairly well before you started to hit on that Volus and I had to stop you. I think you tried to seduce me but fell on your face, down on the sofa where you snored away and drooled on the cushions." Vellios snickered. His mandibles wiggling again while he folded his hands in front of his navel, his figure relaxed in his laid back position. For some reason, be it from instinct or something else, his eyes tightened briefly at something off within her words. He had been around liars enough to have his BS sensors go off when it happened. However, he shrugged it off for later.

"And that," Serena said as she glared at Vellios, trying to shoot lightning from her eyes, "is why I don't drink. It ends badly." She shifted slightly, noticing Vellios' tension before relaxing as it faded away.

'Practice makes perfect, Serena." He said with a cheeky and encouraging smile.

"No."

"Really? It's going to happen again, and you know it. Especially if you want me to stop doing my meds again or at least improve on quiting my binge drinking."

"I've given up trying to make you stop, and you promised you'd work on lessening the drug dependency. What I'm curious is how you plan to get me to drink again since I'm definitely not going to." Serena replied, cracking open Sal's chest to see what she could salvage.

Vellios shrugged in defeat, for the moment. He turned back to matter they were all sharing their pasts with his next comment.

'We all have our reasons for being where we're at. No reason to explain it really unless to feed curiosity. I was born in space, on a ship. So it's pretty much all I know." Vellios stated calmly as he stretched his legs out a bit more and the tension burned, then faded slightly. "Since Serena doesn't drink often, I could always use a drinking buddy since she's just going to be scowling and watching. What do you say?"

"I'll be scowling and working on Sal or Barat, thank you very much. You two can get hammered if you want, just don't touch the Ryncol, Del, Sarah, my workstation, or Barat." She gave the two of them the evil eye. "I have no problem turning overload down and zapping drunks." She finally opened Sal's chest and made a disappointed noise. "Dammit. Everything's fried."

Tanya pointed to Vellios. "Yes, first pay cheque we'll find the sketchiest dive bar and see if we don't ruin some poor bastard's life. And wait wait wait," she said, turning her attention to Serena with wide-eyed enthusiasm. "You tried to hook up with a fucking volus?" she exclaimed with a grin that could best be described as shit-eating.

Serena knew something bad was gonna happen when Tanya turned her attention back to her. She blushed bright red in embarassment, settling her tools down as she turned to fully face the grinning woman.

Vellios just enjoyed the display, his eyes turned to see Serena turn a deep red.

"I mean, what do you do, unzip their trousers and watch as the sudden decompression makes them literally explode all over the room like an overpressurized can of aerosol cheese?" she crossed her arms, feeling somewhat triumphant.

Serena ignored the comment, trying not to remember the full details of the event herself. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you...what if I said please?"

'Drink again and I might..." He said while starting to laugh, getting amusement out of Serena being the source of their laughter.

"Stop bringing it up and I might not fill your Omni-tool with Vorcha porn." Serena waved her omni-tool threateningly.

' I'll just tell our resident Vorcha you had me deliver a gift from an admirer..." Vellios threatened playfully, knowing he could make it convincing like the last time she attempted a similar move last time.

"...You win this round you radiation resistant bastard."

'Should've known better darlin'. I usually win." Anymore teasing interrupted by Tanya's next words.

"What, and lose sight of the most beautiful love affair in galactic history? Fat chance. So, it's settled then. You two are getting trashed, and I am going to enjoy every goddamn minute of it. I'll even hack into the security feed so I can show the vid recording to the entire crew, maybe I'll hang up a projector right there, use the cargo ramp as a screen..." she mused, framing her fingers and thumbs into a box shape and holding it in that direction, encasing the door.

"Hahahahahano." Serena shook her head vehemently. "I'm not drinking again. Not a chance in hell." In desperation to change the subject, she turned to the agreement Tanya and she had made. "So...chess sometime tonight? We can use my custom board..."

"As you wish, try not to mop the floor with me. Although..." a mischievious smile creased her lips. "End of the week, we have some stakes. You beat me, I never bother you about drinking or volus again, poof! Forgotten. I'll even go and hit on anyone you point out in the bar just so I can make an ass of myself in front of everyone. However, if I win... we'll just say you don't stop drinking until the floor looks like an oil slick of terrible life decisions. How's that sound, utterly regrettable?" She asked, entirely too cheerfully.

"Deal! Serena replied, grinning as she stuck out her hand for Tanya to shake. As the other mechanic shook, serena called out to her protocol drone. Sarah, please set the date and bet stakes down on record." She smirked at Tanya. "I'm thinking Hanar. Maybe Elcor."

"Tentacles are a girl's best friend, but elcor? C'mon. You trying to put me to sleep? The bar would close before he even got an ice breaker out." Tanya said, brushing her hair back, not looking forward to either possibility. "Anyways, we better finish stowing shit before we head off to Omega to watch that sour-ass asari make pouty faces the whole time."

"I have to agree. I think you humans have a saying: idle hands make for the devil's work or something like that." Vellios said, his body getting upward and slowly standing to his feet. Part of his muscle ached from being on the hard metal for so long and not moving around much to ease it. Quickly he collected the scrape that deemed most dangerous to Serena and looked for a spot to deposite it.

Tanya stood and turned, opening the crate she was sitting on. Reaching inside, a half-empty bottle of Sampson whisky shone in the light, reflecting a warm red-brown colour in the surrounding area. "This helps steady the idle hands. I'd offer some, but I'm pretty sure that would kill you. Dextro and all that." she said to the turian, unscrewing the lid, taking a deep swig, and heading off to unpack her gear for the assignment ahead.

'I've eaten a lot of things that have nearly killed me to be honest. Though personally, me getting sick right now isn't the best idea. How about you drink, Serena looks pretty, and I'll do the heavy lifting. We should have this stuff all neat and stowed before no time, deal?" Vellios said while he shoved the parts into the nearest disposal container, his hands already reaching to shove a heavy cargo crate to the side.

"Now that sounds like an arrangement if I ever heard one." Tanya grinned over her shoulder at Vellios. "Don't worry about me, serve in the Alliance long enough and you can pretty much pack and unpack your entire life in record time. Figure we might as well look good while everyone else is busy picking their asses." she replied, only realizing after she said it how literally packing up her life on a whim could just as easily apply to both her gear and herself. Looking at the whisky bottle, she decided it might be a little lower than intended by the time she got that particularly cheerful thought out of her mind as she opened up a compartment to find her exceptionally well maintained shotgun sitting in foam. Time to get busy.

Surprisingly, it took Alex sometime to actually hit the kitchen. She ended up having to double back for a few of her ration bars and meals to stash in the kitchen for later on. After a short argument with herself, she removed her hoodie and picked up a rather large case filled with rations of varying flavors.

Her boots echoed off of the metal grating with every step. The sound brought back memories of the squeak of shoes in the halls during her time with BAaT. It was always interesting to see where the squeaks led...sometimes, it was a particularly amorous couple hiding in a cranny. Other times, it was a group of teens just hanging around or practicing their biotics. Back then, only a few abilities were taught to students, and Alex found herself struggling when it came to most powers. She fell behind a few times, stayed towards the middle of her class; which was a feat in itself considering she was younger than ninety percent of the students body.

She was brought from her musings by the opening of a door. She paused briefly to look around the kitchen area before she headed for a cabinet quietly. Alex's eyes roamed over the other human with the bright as Christmas' prickly balls drink--the cook, maybe?--then briefly caught sight of the asari, quarian and vorcha.

Idly, she mused on the idea of traveling to Omega for supplies. Alex herself had never been to Omega before. She had heard a few things about the space station, and wondered what that place would hold for someone like her. When the introductions began, the human gave a cursory glance above the countertop where she had kneeled to put away her rations. Of course, organized by flavor, size, and required steam amount. When she was finished, she stood and closed the cabinet and looked around. Her intense eyes seemed to change color as she shifted her head to look at the occupants in the room.

"My name is Alex. Please leave my ration meals alone. I do not wish to allow my appetite to become a burden on our supplies...and I am not a happy Vanguard when I am hungry." She introduced herself with a bit of a smirk. "Thank you for your time. I am sorry to have interrupted." Alex spoke politely since she was not sure whom was friendly and whom would become a problem later. For now, neutrality was the best option, she could make friends later.

Speaking of...she could really go for some rehydrated enchiladas...or maybe the steak and mashed potatoes? So many options...

Khosin let out a sigh as he sited in one of the nearby crates that were stacked next to the ship of Volus origin. Must admit, while I’ve seen many pieces of junk in my life, this one wins the prize for the worst ship in the galaxy. Thought the Batarian as memories of living on Omega, and the various ships that docked on the criminal station, flashed on his mind. However while the dilapidated ship was one of his concerns what had prompted him to let out a sigh had been the sight that most of the humans had given him when they had laid their eyes upon him.

The reactions had varied from discomfort, cold apathy, and hate. The one that drew his attention particularly was one that came from one of the women. He had seen appraise each of those that were present with something that resembled a cheerful look, as if she was finding the situation more amusing than unsettling. That's it, until her gaze settled on him. He knew the look very well, one of pure hatred and had seen it in various faces across all of his life. While he was part of the Hegemony's army, while he worked for the Blue Suns, on Omega and, finally, on himself a long time ago. He closed his eyes as memories surfaced on his mind, but he was brought back to the present when he heard footsteps.

Turning around to look, he noticed a Turian that was coming towards them (whom Khosin guessed was part of the spacedock security based on his attire). He didn't pay much attention but listened enough to get their current situation. The captain that had hired them was dead, and they had inherited the ship. Or at least each of them had inherited a share of the ship, as far as he understood the situation. "Fuck." He muttered lowly, his four eyes staring at the piece of junk that was the Borealis before he picked up a crate and helped pack up as much as he could.

Once they were done packing things up, he explored the ship for a bit, oblivious to the other members of the group and trying to ignore the awful music that seemed to be booming on the lower levels of the Borealis, Khosin eventually found himself in the ship's quarters, claiming one of the empty ones for his own use.

With that done, Khosin began making his way towards engineering, cursing when he had to crouch due to the short doors designed with Volus in mind. He let out a curse when he had to crouch again due to the low frame of the doors and then mumbled a part of the Pillars of Strength before he continued on his way towards the main engine. Once he got there he focused on the engine itself but not before he took notice of the Krogan that stood on a nearby console Hmmm, fuel readings? Or maybe looking for the engine schematics? Thought the Batarian before he brought himself out of his personal thoughts when his neck started itching "Bah, damn thing still itches." He mumbled in annoyance before he scratched the spot where the Blue Suns symbol used to be "Anyways, time to work." He said as he activated his omnitool, fiddling with it for a few seconds before a drone appeared in front of him. Giving a few commands from his omnitool, he set the drone to scan the main engine and any other piece of machinery nearby.

He stayed there for a few minutes, reading the scans that the drone sent to him, his concentration being broken once when he heard someone asking on the ships intercom why the targeting system of the ship was 22 years old and when the Krogan left the area. Approaching the console that the Krogan was using recently, Khosin checked the information available and noticed that -like he had guessed a few moments before- the console was dedicated to the fuel stores of the Borealis.

Turning from the console, he focused his eyes on the readings that the drone was sending towards his omnitool "Hmmm, seems solid enough, still, I think it would be best not to stress it too much, the best would be to replace it but I don't think we could do that" Said Khosin as he looked at the data that hsi drone had sent him. Sending a command he quickly deactivated the drone and made his way towards the bridge Best thing would be to change the whole damn ship. Thought the Batarian as he made his way around the ship, stopping for a few seconds when he heard the pilot in the intercom announcing that they were heading to Omega. He shook his head and continued walking until he finally reached the ship's cockpit. He eyed the figures gathered, his eyes focusing on the human male when he noticed what he thought to be faded Batarian numbers and letters on the back of the neck Shit. He thought as he eyed the human before he approached the person that was on the pilot seat, noticing that their pilot was a Turian woman once he got close.

He tapped the woman on the shoulder gently and waited for a few moments before he spoke "Excuse me, ran some scans on the main engine. It's solid but it would be best to not to put it under much stress. Thought I should let you know." He said before turning around and leaving the cockpit, but not before giving a quick glance at the human in the co-pilot seat, and made his way to the common area that he had spotted on his way "Well, best to get to know the crew" He mumbled as he made his way towards the common area Well, what could go wrong. Thought the Batarian once he got there and began walking towards the kitchen.

Common Area
”Find anything edible. If you can make something not fish, I'd be grateful. I come from a water planet. I have seen enough fish to last me a lifetime.”

A distinctly drell voice chimed in behind the crouched Tonka. By process of elimination, it wasn’t hard to figure out who was speaking. The krogan responded by pulling a large vacuum sealed fish, its fileted white flesh frozen solid, and smacking it down on the counter in front of the drell. “Guess you don’t want that then.” He replied, digging in deeper and discovering something that he couldn’t readily recognize past it kind of resembled beef, but it could have just as easily been one of those so called “space cows” that are found on Ontarom. It would have to do. He produced the oversized slab of meat and set it next to the fish, where it settled with a heavy thump next to the fish.

Tonka regarded the sudden gathering with detached curiosity, although his gaze lingered on the vorcha for a few moments as he found himself momentarily surprised anyone would take a chance hiring on a vorcha in any capacity. He knew from working with asari that it was something of a popular trend on asari worlds to adopt vorcha children and raise them in a civilized manner, some of whom ended up defying their stereotypes as gibbering violent idiots who amounted to little more than cannon fodder by actually being fairly competent tradesmen, but Tonka had never met a vorcha in a social setting. About the extent of his interaction with the species was usually demonstrating why piracy was a very dangerous occupation when the ship you’re trying to plunder is carrying someone who made a sport out of shooting running pyjaks at 1,500 meters and wrestled varren for fun. He didn’t mention any of this fact to his peculiar crewmate, instead his large crested head simply nodded politely. Maybe finding the vorcha pants that fit would make him presentable.

"You know if I had known that this ship would have been heading straight for Omega, I wouldn't have bothered sneaking onto that ship to Ilium. I could have just waited for you guys to have shown up at home."

It surprised Tonka that the vorcha was capable of speaking articulately without the hissing staccato of nonsense that their species was particularly well known for. Did he pretend to be a turian over voice communications with Lazumi to get the job? There were so many questions that needed answering.

Instead of asking these questions, Tonka simply replied, “If you simply waited on Omega, you wouldn’t have even looked at this ship twice, except maybe to wonder if the crew had anything resembling dignity or standards.” He said, peeling away the vacuum seal and beginning to free the mystery slab of meat.

“Even the Sherana is in better condition than this, and she’s well over three hundred. Of course she wasn’t a pile of junk the moment she was built either. This thing… Well, you don’t see a lot of Volus ships in the fleet. Sure they’re easy to get, but they are designed to fall apart after a decade or two. On the fleet we have a name for ships like this. ‘Spare parts deliveries.’ I’m just hoping this particular spare part delivery has a few years left before the planned obsolescence hits and all the critical systems start failing… my name is Kasyra by the way.”

The quarian was the next curiosity, they were around, certainly, but most kept to themselves or tried to finish off that to-do list that their pilgrimage demanded. Tonka didn’t really have any negative opinions about the quarians, they were simply another species that got screwed over collectively for one reason or another, and like the krogan, people blamed them for their own mistakes. He didn’t see too many quarians do things like headbutt people to assert dominance or throw belligerent shrieking pyjaks through the table for being annoying, which was too bad. He always enjoyed when small, frail people were scrappy. He approved of her assessment of the Borealis, which was much in line from what he’d observed. The thing was barely space worthy, and he doubted any of the emergency systems were working like they should. It was telling when a quarian tells you that their people wouldn’t even touch a ship, and they were the kind of people who operated equipment that made people who renovated vintage sky cars look like futurists in comparison.

“The volus tend to make licenced and terrible knock offs of turian designs, although it beats me what this thing was. Take it from me; you don’t want to trust your life to volus engineering. Had a rifle once, didn’t shoot it more than ten times before I cracked the stock in half over someone’s back. Cheap piece of crap.” He said as a general comment to anyone listening, implanting himself in the conversation as he worked. The slab of meat needed some encouragement to get free, and Tonka was seriously debating how sanitary the counter was. He decided against flipping it over as his stomach protested. He wasn’t sure if it was warning him against what was to come or if it was simply hungry. It wasn’t a language that held much of a distinction in his books.

"Fish would be nice, it's gotta be something nice for the maiden voyage for the new crew. Of course we'd need something for all onboard. Don't think a finely cooked fish would go down well with Kasyra here. I'm Valiss, not the only asari onboard it seems." a newcomer said, making herself at home and sliding into the group with ease.

He didn’t respond to the asari right away, although he appreciated the sentiment. He stared at both slabs of meat in front of him and frowned as a realization dawned on him; neither had labels and it was impossible to tell what was dextro or levo friendly. For all he knew, cooking either meal was asking for half of the crew to be fighting for position for a toilet for the remainder of the trip. Deciding that was worth the risk and entertainment value alone, he held his tongue and didn’t bother to suggest anyone scan the chemical composition of the cuts.

“The drell doesn’t want fish, but you do. We’ll do both, lots of mouths on this ship and I eat enough for two.” He said, regarding the oven and tentatively turning it on a defrost setting. By some miracle, it hummed to life almost immediately. “Damn, and I wanted them raw.” He mused in mock disappointment. Another new voice chipped in, in an almost apologetic tone that more or less conveyed she didn’t want people stealing her food. What kind of socially ill-adjusted weirdo brought their own food on a ship, and she actually trusted people not to steal it?

"My name is Alex. Please leave my ration meals alone. I do not wish to allow my appetite to become a burden on our supplies...and I am not a happy Vanguard when I am hungry. Thank you for your time. I am sorry to have interrupted." she said, not sauntering off like some middle manager who had just announced that the printer was now going to use extra-glossy pages for some ass-kissing report to the regional manager like he expected. Tonka regarded her for a few moments and decided that at some point, he was going to relocate her rations just to see what kind of volatile reaction would occur.

Maybe one of the engineer’s tool boxes, he decided.

“So, since everyone professes how much they think this ship is going to be the death of them, I noticed absolutely no one is in a rush to try to do anything about it.” Tonka observed, looking for roaster pans. “Did I miss the memo where this is a suicide cult?”

The young woman remained quiet as she leaned down to pull a ration box from the rest. Quietly, she read it over then whistled to herself as she went about preparing it. She cracked the bag after she removed the box, then set it on the counter to heat up.

She looked over at the krogan and raised an eyebrow when he spoke, even though she remained silent. "Does this mean that you're trying to start a bonding exercise, Krogan? Should we share our reasons for enlisting onto and staying on the equivalent of an iron maiden? How gentle of you." She asked with a teasing glint in her bright green eyes. Alex looked back down at the rations as the bag expanded and heated.

"Cooking is not difficult. Everyone has taste, even if they don't realize it. Even if you're not a great chef, there's nothing to stop you understanding the difference between what tastes good and what doesn't."
— Gerard Depardieu

“So, anything worthwhile here, or do we have to order takeout?" one of the krogans, Tonka, asked Marco as he was looking around the freezer. Marco replied back, "We don't need to order any takeout for awhile; however, we need to get more before the week ends.” Marco didn't have any issues with the krogan; however, they are hard to read and he doesn't know if Tonka even likes him.

Despite the krogan's question, he went back to work on the report and took another drink of his creation. The announcement of their first destination as Omega was a good time for Marco to start shopping for supplies for the ship; despite his curiosity, he hasn't been to Omega before but he had heard of it. After the announcement ended, Marco was finally finished with the reports and it was in good timing as everybody began to come towards the kitchen.

The drell came to the kitchen, saying he wouldn't want fish; however, the asari wanted some fish as well. Marco sighed and said towards the non-humans, “I will make such to remember that. Plus, there are foods that the drell and Valiss.” Then, Marco quickly finished his drink and set the glass aside him as he looked at Valiss and the drell.

"You know if I had known that this ship would have been heading straight for Omega, I wouldn't have bothered sneaking onto that ship to Ilium. I could have just waited for you guys to have shown up at home." the vorcha said something that was readable without any hissing. The krogan quickly spoke towards the vorcha as Marco saw another human entering the kitchen.

"My name is Alex. Please leave my ration meals alone. I do not wish to allow my appetite to become a burden on our supplies...and I am not a happy Vanguard when I am hungry. Thank you for your time. I am sorry to have interrupted." the human said politely towards the group, meaning that she was talking to Marco. “Don't worry about your rations, Alex. They are safe and you can find them in the kitchen. I made such to not move them.” He didn't care much for replies from the other crew members towards each other.

The empty glass was put in the sink and then turned around. Marco coughed before he began to speak out loud towards the crew within the common area, “Alright, it looks like that we are going to land at Omega anytime soon. I am going to get supplies from the markets, which means that I need to know what you like to eat.” He walked towards the data pad and made a new file on it and pointed at the pad as he explained, “Just fill out what you like to eat on here and I will try to get that; however, we are low on credits so don't make it too expensive.”

Dex watched Tia's back as she walked away having ended the conversation on a cold note. Dex finally resumed her seat pulling a face, she felt her words had no impact. She forgets so often when dealing with other races that they don’t pick up on vocal cues through her sub harmonics. Cues that are so naturally expressed that it’s not until well after the conversation is over does she realize something might have been missed in translation. Perhaps the Elcor had it right with noting their emotions. Her sincerity never fell so flat before.

Regardless she took into consideration about Omega’s factions but knew well from her own experience that as large as those gangs were they had bigger fish to fry. She did take Iosif’s suggestion about the Afterlife port, it would be a good neutral spot while it didn’t take long to get anywhere from that point.

Getting the clear go ahead from the Drell to carry on, he managed to patch up the coolant though she assumed they wouldn’t need to use the canon by any means right away. Unless pirates were hiding in Thail’s rings they’d be fine. Without anyone else needing to stay put she decided it was best they’d head off.

While she received a good update from their resident batarian engineer regarding the engine. She nodded seeing him beat a quick retreat after delivering the information without a thank you.

Dex went straight to work guiding the Borealis out of orbit heading toward Thail. Her talons flexed instinctively dancing across the console with ease. As new as she was to the vessel and it may be the worst she’s ever flown, but damn it she was going fly it through a tightly packed asteroid field without a single scratch. In which case she’d soon prove that when they reached Omega. The Borealis was bulky as hell felt like pushing a rock through sand. It dragged its ass no thanks to the thrusters being the way they were. It couldn’t help but make her wonder how Captain Luzami managed to get this thing to Illium in the first place.

They approached Thail ducking below the icy rings. Dex pulled into it’s orbit, they circled the gas-giant a few times gaining momentum. Within it’s shadows the bridge darkened considerably only the glow from the consoles to provide light. The Borealis wanted to pull up out of her hands, getting sucked into the planet’s immense gravity. It was time to launch.

“Alright gents, get ready for the break off. It’s feeling like it’ll be bumpy.” With a few keystrokes she calculated their speed trajectory with help from Haze. “Here we go!”

They rounded the planet one more time then pulled off from its gravity, the ship’s stabilizers absorbed the worst of the launch while in Iosif’s hands the slack was tightened up. They flew with all the momentum they had built maintaining speed with minimum use of the thrusters. Going exactly as planned.

“Approaching Mass Relay, engaging mass effect core. Preparing for relay jump.” She said bringing up the readings from the mass effect core. She hit the switch guiding the Borealis close to the relay. Light seemed to bend around them as they entered FTL, disappearing in the blink of an eye. They reappeared in the Omega Nebula. Dex let out a quick sigh of relief; she had been worried that the ship couldn’t even maintain FTL to make the jump. They headed towards Omega, while getting warnings of low fuel. The asteroid field as dense as always, Dex’s smile was confident. She took the ship through the field, testing it’s manoeuvrability. It did all right; they came out the other side unscathed.

Dex quickly opened up the comms hailing Afterlife district docks.

“This is Dexureta of the Borealis requesting permission to dock.”

There was a pause over the comms while the docking manager scanned their ship.

“Permission granted, Borealis. Dock at Bay A4.” A woman’s voice confirmed permission. Dex pulled into the docking area slowly easing the Borealis into it’s designated spot. When the locks were in place discharging the mass effect core, she flipped on the intercom addressing the crew once more.

"Attention all crew, we have docked successfully at the horrifically dingy Afterlife District. To your left you can see some prostitute giving a batarian a blowjob in the alley, while off to the right you can see some gang members, looks like Bloodpack, shaking down a local for protection money. Please step lightly while exiting, you might just trip over a dead body." Dex finished the announcement brightly pushing up from the console.

Her omnitool blinked again with another new message from Galentos. Silencing it again with a little irritation. She owed a second to check-in with her family and Jorick. As much as she missed Gal she didn’t owe him a check-in anymore. Though her curiosity wanted to know why he was suddenly contacting her. It had been months since they broke up. The time for drunken confessions was well past.

Her omnitool faded away when her eyes drifted up to see Omega’s skyline through the grimey windows. The red glow was an unnatural light emitted from the mass effect generators, sustaining it dead center of its asteroid field. She had been to Omega plenty of times before today. When she turned her back on Taetrus, her life for the past six years had been spent primarily in the Terminus Systems. While it was the only place she could move freely work took her to all sections of the galaxy.

Her experience digging around in the Hierarchy’s business prepared her for all manner of challenges. When Galentos hired her on she had raised him from Turian space into a greater realm of influence. Criminals, gang leaders, morally ambiguous government officials, all manners people came to them looking for information. It wasn’t a matter of if she could but how long it would take. Spying took immense amounts of patience, it was always easier to pick up on a paper trail but more often than not catching someone in the act was the most damning. Opportunity always reared its head for those watching.

Her work made her rather cynical to a fault. Working amongst strangers though provided a comfort, no one expected to hear her life story nor did she expect to hear theirs. A level of curiosity obviously drew her attention but not enough to go pulling up their private lives.

Today wasn’t for meant for old work habits, more pressing concerns of getting fuel, contracts and food were their priority.

“I’m going to slip into my armour, gents. Meet you three in the hanger.” She waved them off heading out of the bridge.

She headed toward her quarters where she had thrown her things haphazardly. Only an idiot would wander Omega without armour or a weapon.

“You sure did.” kasyra replied glibly to the krogans statement. It was ironic, she thought, that he would say that, given that she did not really expect to survive her long term plans. “I might help fix up this wreck when we have a few parts to do it with, but don't expect me to volunteer for chief mechanic or engineer duty. Just because I'm a Quarian doesn't mean I like being neck deep in ship guts, or that I'm a technical miracle worker.”

Kasyra certainly found that particular species stereotype frustrating. While basic engineering was taught to all Quarians, it was just that - basic engineering. Many of them, especially slightly older Quarians such as herself, had entirely different specialisations. She could maintain the ship to an extent, but that was it.

She was about to comment on the matter of food after an Asari mentioned how fish would not go well for her, when the human she had earlier pegged as the self declared head cook began speaking. Though he didn’t explicitly state it, the way he spoke was all the statement needed. This man was definitely going to be the head cook. Kasyra did not particularly like that idea. Sure he was welcome to feed everyone else, but no way was she going to eat anything made by someone she did not know, much less a Levo cook.

It wasn’t that she worried that he would intentionally poison her, so much as she had rarely met an alien that would properly account for Quarian needs. That, and she had no faith in the ability of a Levo to properly manage Dextro flavors. How could he if he could not taste it himself without puking his guts out for a month? And that was a best case scenario.

“You needn’t worry about me mister master chef man.” She began glibly, her tone making it clear that she didn't think much of his sudden desire to take over all aspects of the kitchen. “I’ll make my own food. I’ll also be buying a purifier out of my own pocket so this kitchen doesn’t kill me” Had any of the Turians been around, she would’ve offered to cook for them too. As long as they put funds towards the ingredients of course. She wasn’t running a charity.

With that, she turned and walked out of the kitchen. She didn’t feel like arguing with the cook right now, he would inevitably protest and claim he was capable of feeding a Quarian. She simply didn’t believe and preferred not to offend the man so early in their association. She headed to the quarters to find a spot to sleep. She didn’t have any gear or other belongings beyond what she carried, so she would have to resort to leaving a note of some form marking out which bunk was hers. It did make her an easy roommate though. No mess to work around. Once she picked out a spot, she would busy herself checking her gear and resting until they reached Omega.

The human ate quickly once her food was ready. She watched the room quietly then nodded to the chef when he assured her that he wouldn't use her rations. Satisfied, she finished her piping hot food within a few more bites then threw away the empty packaging. "Thanks."

She headed back to the med bay and remained there to read up on more advanced medical practices. Once the ship was docked in Omega, the young woman dressed in her armor and set her M-7 Lancer on the mag plate on her back. She checked the seals on her arms, legs, and boots then settled her helmet over her head. When the visor came alive, she looked over her levels and static buildup.

Alex walked out of the med bay and headed for the hangar. She nearly conked her head on a doorway, and grumbled to herself when she had to lean down a little further. She idly removed her gauntlet and ran a hand over a side of the ship, which caused a rather large static charge to jump off of her. Satisfied with her pre-space ritual, she replaced the gauntlet and leaned against another walk while she awaited their leader for this little school trip.

Duuka actually took a moment to consider that Krogan's words. As much as he would have liked to have claimed otherwise, he did have a point; A ship like this wouldn't have even drawn the attention of who steal shuttles and ships for spare parts beyond being pointed and laughed at.

He stayed silent as various people talked, partly because his mother always taught him that listening was an important skill and it was horribly rude to interrupt a conversation in progress if there wasn't an opening, partly because he had noticed the looks that he had received from several members of the crew; He suspected that it was because he had a basic understanding of grammar and punctuation that allowed him to minimize the inherited hiss that seemed to be present in all Vorcha. It wasn't that surprising through was it? Bloody bosh'tets.

As the matters of food came up and one of the human's decided to take over the kitchen and Kasyra had made her announcement before leaving, Duuka decided to get his own word in. "I'm good with whatever is put in front of me. I only ask that you leave the dextro food to either myself, the turians or Kasyra to prepare." He couldn't help but feel that there would be people looking at him strangely because of what he just said, causing him to become somewhat defensive as he explained "Levo races couldn't cook dextro food properly if their lives depended on it. Of sure, they can cook it so that it doesn't kill the eater, but it tends to taste horrible because they can't get the flavors right. Not their fault really, taste testing tends to result in pain and death."

Of course, any further discussion was cut off by the announcement that they had arrived in Omega. Clicking his tongue a little in annoyance at the fact that they had arrived so soon but accepting that this was the reality of the situation, Duuka turned his attention towards those crew members that were still in the kitchen; He was as ready as he was going to be already so there wasn't much need to waste time getting dressed or anything. "So... what sort of skills do we have?" He asked somewhat curiously. What skills they had on hand would go a long way to reveling what sort of jobs they should be aiming for. "...Is that a question to ask when we're all gathered together before going into Omega?"