As Dex walked back to her seat, Hazan gave her a glance. Judging from her expression, the exchange out in the hall hadn't gone well. With a shrug of his shoulders he shifted in his seat, lazily double checking their course on his terminal.
"If it's any consolation, our job on Omega should give us enough dough to make this bucket...slightly less of a bucket."
He felt the ship shudder as it groaned into life under Dex's hands. The Borealis sputtered and then roared towards Thail, weaving deftly (as deftly as a bucket could) through a light asteroid field under Dex's guidance. While she prepared to break out of the planet's grav field, he set his omnitool to sleep mode. His job was pretty much over. For now.
“Alright gents, get ready for the break off. It’s feeling like it’ll be bumpy. Here we go!”
Hazan held onto his chair as the rust bucket shuddered its way out of Thail's gravitational field and rocketed straight for the mass relay. He was right, Thail's field was strong enough. Thankfully. The ship sailed its way to the mass relay as he watched out the front windows.
“Approaching Mass Relay, engaging mass effect core. Preparing for relay jump.”
"Here's hoping the bucket doesn't fall apart when we exist FTL!"
“This is Dexureta of the Borealis requesting permission to dock.”
Awoken from his nap by the jolt of the ship coming out of FTL next to the Omega Nebula relay, Hazan sat up in his seat while Dex radioed for landing confirmation to the station. With nothing else to do, he stood, stretched out the kinks in his back and got out of his chair.
"Alright fellas, since we're landing on this Spirits-forsaken station, I'm gonna go hit my bunk first and gear up. I'll see you guys in the hangar."
A hand gently gave Mirage's chair a pat.
"And if there's anyone you wanna say hello to down there, I can issue extended greetings. No sweat."
That said, he shut down his terminal and made his way off the bridge, heading for his bunk.
The two matte black cases that contained his kit laid on the floor just next to his bed. Without delay he popped them open and laid his essentials out on his bed. His shotgun, rifle and pistol laid dormant within their stowed, compact forms. The light armour he wore laid in the second case, nestled in grey packing foam. Lifting each piece from its compartment, he assembled his suit; fitting the bracers and gloves onto his arms, clipping the boots up tight, firmly latching his chest piece on.
The process took several minutes, during which an announcement by their friendly pilot blared over the intercom system, followed shortly after by the dull thump and hiss of the ship's landing gear touching down on a pad.
"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 Blood Pack, shaking down a local for protection money. Please step lightly while exiting, you might just trip over a dead body."
Wonderful, he thought, it just had to be Afterlife. Only the biggest den of mercenaries and bounty hunters there was. Just my luck.
With that in mind, he pulled the attached hood on his suit up over his head, grabbed his guns and walked right out of his bunk. He made a beeline straight for the hangar, which was their meeting point, and grabbed a seat on a nearby crate.
All he had to do now was wait for the rest of the crew and then listen to whatever game plan the de facto captain came up with. Easy.
He hoped that he didn't get a bullet to the head immediately when the cargo bay doors opened. Word did travel far and fast, after all. He just hoped that it wasn't the case today.