Amina stepped out of the bathroom of her hotel room. She wore a heavy white robe over her underclothes for bed, her armor and kit propped up on the offside of the nightstand. Her hair, still a bit damp even after blow drying, hung loose around her neck and shoulders - Amina brushing loose strands from her face as she sat on the bedside. After everything that had transpired since arriving in Cuba a long scalding shower and some R&R after was much needed, even if short term. Amina had grabbed a bite earlier, the local cuisine satisfying to her pallet.
Amina gave her room a good once over. Her small amount of luggage was all piled on and around an end table against the far wall. Her pistol lay within easy reach on the nightstand while her rifle was propped against the front of it. The Geth weapon she acquired lay next to her armor where it took up a noticeable little amount of floor space. Cumbersome as it was to lug around Amina figured it would come in handy in the future, and if not she could trade it for something else or sell it somewhere if need be. Acquiring ammunition for it could be a real issue of course which suddenly made being rid of it soon a more attractive thought.
Well… I will worry about that later on. Amina thought, swinging both legs up on the bed as she sat back against the mound of pillows behind her. She reached over and picked up a round, flat object from the nightstand - her lucky dinar. A medieval era Arabic coin, Amina’s father had given it to her on her tenth birthday back on Terra Nova. Over twenty years ago now. Amina had carried the coin all her life; after leaving Terra Nova, during her time both with the Alliance and later Cerberus, and throughout the Reaper War. It had always been with her, a memento of her father and of a time passed. It was like carrying around a family photo yet it held a deeper sentiment. It was also a piece of history which made it even more valuable in a material sense. Amina imagined a collector would pay a hefty price for it if pressed, yet Amina had always swore to herself that she would never part with it and that held true today. Long ago she had drilled a small hole near the top and laced a cord through the coin to wear it like a medallion.
Amina rolled the coin over and between her fingers as her thoughts drifted to her parents and brother, she slipped the thin leather cord around her finger joints. How she hoped her family had made it through the war. That they had not succumbed to the cruelty of the Reapers genocidal efforts across Earth. The thought of her family being hauled away, sedated,
melted down and pumped through cold, metal tubing into some mass -
Stop.Amina lay her lucky dinar back on the stand the cord draped over the edge.
They are fine. Maybe… I can get SRN to track them down for me. As a favor for my service. Amina planned to ask very soon. When the team arrived at their next destination she would, when the time was appropriate, ask for a hand in locating her parents and brother. Amina felt an invigoration in her core. Her new employer could do what she had been unable to do amid and after the Reaper War. Surely they could! At the very least they could try - she could try. Amina felt a slight quirk at the corners of her mouth as the thought of, after so many months of no leads, finally someone giving her some answers. Even if her family had not survived the war she needed to know if at all possible.
But they did. They are out there. I just need to find them.Amina looked down and as she did she noticed something, ever so casually. A magazine it looked like had slipped down behind the nightstand, the covers peeled back and pages loosely open as the magazine lay back against the wall behind the piece of furniture. Curiously Amina reached down and snagged the magazine in her left hand, bringing it around to view the front cover.
FORNAX, the cover read,
This month featuring scenes with Eshokai Thionis and Adonis Swift! Amina’s eyes popped and her nose wrinkled at the imagery on the cover.
Geez… Amina jumped up from the bed, robe trailing, as she stamped towards the window. She had seen her fair share of Fornax issues over the years, tucked under the pillows of Alliance grunts and in the desks of Cerberus operatives, and they never failed to repel the human woman.
I am not checking out of this room with this to be found in my wake. Sliding the window open Amina sent the magazine flying down towards the ground, then slamming the window shut and deciding it was definitely time to end the night - not noticing the curious Salarian down below that picked up the magazine, looked around, and scampered away item underarm.