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Loader removed. Might be more fun that way, since according to all (and by that I mean both) reviews I found the 18 round mags are damn near impossible to load past 10 without it. The reasoning behind the GSh was that 9x19 is usually more common than 9x18, but if it's a problem timeline-wise I can swap it out.

And in case Skwint is a no-show, I think I know a guy who'd be interested.
At the cost of sounding like a vulture: With Theyra backing out, do you have room?
Having received the all-clear from Key, Lantea jogged over to the security room, holding outside the door until Arthur was inside. Seeing that Key had made herself at home already, she allowed herself to relax a little. The hard part was over and it looked like it would be a well and truly boring run...

...and then it hit the fan. Lantea switched to her Tornado, taking up the back as they left. Being the rear guard was always a pain. Turn around every few steps and still risk getting shot in the back. As they left the security room, she closed the door, ignited one of her omni blades and thrust it into the door control panel before slicing across, hoping to sever enough important things to prevent the door from opening. ‘If you want to cause problems from the security room when you find us, take the five seconds to breach. If you even can.’ she thought spitefully.

”I expect that will get better with time. When people hire mercs, they’ll always start low and get more willing to pay extra once you’ve worked for them a bit, like a trial period. But if that’s not the case here, I’ll get the torches if you bring the pitchforks.” she replied to Key’s complaints. The Quarian wasn’t wrong though, and while a personal security detail would likely not pack a bigger punch than assault rifles - and even those would be like going hunting for game with a pocket nuke - they could still turn their proverbial pile of scrap into a literal one if they tried hard enough. Unfortunately for her and the crew, the thought of pissing off a criminal with enough clout to have a rogue Spectre on speed dial was a pretty good incentive. ”Did he say how loud we’re going? ‘Do whatever we have to to get out.’ loud or ‘Do whatever we can to grab the money lizard.’ loud?” she turned to her team leader again, wondering whether she'd need her pistol or grenades and biotisc more in the coming minutes.
The envoy as advertised, a bodyguard as expected, and a diplomat. With some measure of luck, at least two of the three would bring some thinking brains into the group. Avelyn wasted no time letting her mind wander, or rather letting their minds wander into hers, trying to gauge their new compatriots. But where was the complaining coming from? She turned toward the sound of an opening door, catching sight of one crew member who had recently climbed a few rungs on her shit list entering the room before turning back to face the delegates so her crewmates couldn’t see her rolling her eyes. When the self-professed first mate - one of three no less - mentioned a private talk with the two lovebirds, she couldn’t help but shoot them a look that screamed ‘I’m sorry for you two.’, made a bit worse by knowing he was right on that one: Mentioning that could’ve waited until they sat down or something.

The envoy was not what she expected. He might’ve been like that, or it might’ve been all a big show. She didn’t know and couldn’t readily verify. His thoughts were still alien to her and their language unknown to her, concealing their full meaning from her prying neurons. That feeling of uncertainty reminded her of her first interaction with an alien mind. A restrained Rau’Ve prisoner. First there was disbelief. Then terror. She shook her head to banish the uncomfortable past. Then the Gabriel guy whispered something in the language she didn’t understand. And while that might have been foreign to her, thoughts were a universal language. Alien ones could be a little confusing the first few times, but same-species brains always spoke the same dialect. She still didn’t know what he said, but at least his thoughts made it seem like he wouldn’t start stabbing people. “It’s widely considered impolite to whisper among yourselves in a language not all of your hosts might understand.” she joked with a friendly wave. “Sounds lovely though, you’ll have to teach me later.”

Then she had an idea. 50:50 good and absolutely idiotic, but to Hell with it, that wasn’t out of character for this crew. Avelyn turned to Melinae wearing a warm smile. “‘All you can eat’ he says. That’s coming from our rations after he cut them down ship-wide because one of us made a mistake. If you take care not to go overboard and leave some for the rest of us, you might win some hearts and minds. K-rats are terrible.” she spoke a slightly slurred Rau’Ve, watching for Joey’s reaction and hoping he didn’t speak that one, but not holding out much hope.
It was a good thing Laurey pushed her to spend at least a small portion of her share immediately. Ah well, easily gained is easily lost, after all. They stocked up on parts and materials for their little arts and crafts project in advance, they weren’t going to starve, and with Kanarusian Federation now on board they probably wouldn’t run out of fuel or places to hide either.

What truly ticked her off was Joey. What bodily orifice was he talking out of? What, was he gonna suggest curfew next? “Or you could trip and hit your head on the table ten times you capless box of shale...” she muttered under her breath when she realized he was actually being serious with what he was saying, “If membership here is a two-way tunnel, where the fuck were you, XO? And funny you talk about recklessness. If you need help remembering ten minutes ago, I’ll gladly help jog your memory tomorrow. In the meantime, look up the definition of ‘less-than-lethal’.” she hissed in his direction halfway out of the room, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters with a bag of ice on my head. Nobody catch on fire or anything.”

It was good to lie down after a day like that. Very carefully, no rapid head movement. Today’s events themselves shouldn’t feel good in any way, and while what happened to Alan and the fallout affecting them all was indeed fucked, she was finally useful in some capacity.

But over and above all that, the day’s events got Avelyn thinking. She had to talk to the captain in private. She hoped to do more work for her before asking for personal favors, but today proved they weren’t as inconspicuous as she thought and bad shit could happen just like that. And the sooner this problem was addressed, the sooner she’d stop being a massive weak link of the entire crew. There was still wiggle room, but that only extended as far as OIS thought she was either dead or still captive, and would end the second they learned she was alive and rogue. ’You’re some piece of work, aren’t you? Calling for memory checks when you would roll over on them in a heartbeat if it helped you.’ she thought, ‘Fucking hypocrite, that’s what you are. BUT… If they help you with this, you’ll owe them a lot. It’s an angle...’ Yes, waiting was no longer an option. They’d talk once the captain’s had some time to decompress from the Bazaar shitshow and the Kanarusian was on board. No point overloading her with bad news and problems to deal with.

The next day, with a shower, a fresh change of clothes and without a headache, found her heading to where the Kanarusian liaison was supposed to board. Arriving shortly before the shuttle docked, she was curious about both the newcomer himself and his thoughts about them. She hadn’t encountered any Kanarusians during the war, and she knew better than to trust Ascendancy propagandists. And after all, the new arrival wasn’t a friend yet, more of a potential ally, all the more reason to make sure there was nothing suspicious in their head, right? While waiting, she typed up a message on her omni-tool.

From: A. Vernal
To: Cpt. N. Zheng
Subject: Something you should be aware of.
I’ve got a little personal problem that could potentially affect the crew as a whole in a pretty significant and unpleasant way. Meet me when you have a few minutes once the new guy is settled in. Bring Klein if you want to have him scanned, might as well get everything out of the way at once.
Upon finishing the safety brief, Lantea noticed a few odd glances sent her way. ”It’s not on yet, I’m not that mad.” she hurried to reassure her teammates. Liyah raised a good point regarding failsafes though. ”If I remember IT classes right, deleting a file just tells the operating system that it can overwrite the disk sectors that file is saved on with a different file. Unless something else is saved in those sectors, a tech with the right software and skills can still recover whatever was on that drive. Question is whether she, or rather her tech department, know this - which I assume they would - and whether they can do it before we prevent it.” she shared her view on the problem, ”Don’t think it’s too outlandish to think she’d have a VI made for that. As for preventing it, easy enough to disconnect the drives if it’s something compact. If she's got a whole server farm in the basement, different story. We could try cutting power and hauling ass to get there before backups kick in. Unless she spent a few hundred credits and got herself a UPS.” the Asari mused.

She blinked a few times in surprise when Osum revealed his role in the team. ”O...kaaaay. Don’t get shot, reason number 371.” she whispered to Liyah with a grin.

Then Jorge asked for suggestions. ”Well I’m assuming you read my file, people don’t hire me for the quiet approach. If only we had someone on the team with ‘a great deal of experience with leading infiltration missions.’ Probably his greatest asset or something.” she parroted Sivus’ words, turning to the Turian, ”So I hope your skills can pay the check your mouth if writing, birdman.” Lantea quipped as she secured her helmet. ”Tech armor coming on. I’m disabling the visual aids until we’re overt.” They wanted to be stealthy. An Asari surrounded by a bright blue glow was everything but. The helmet fortunately hid her expression. The reason Turians developed Shock and Awe is that it was simple and effective. To Lantea, ‘stealth’ and ‘subterfuge’ were just different ways of saying ‘delay’ and ‘extra effort’. And if or when they get discovered, they’ll be forced to react instead of acting, dancing to REDFOR’s tune instead of controlling the battle. Not ideal. Far from it actually. And if mechs were in the mix, even worse. FLIR, motion sensors, connection to the target structure’s security system, automatically alerting maintenance when a mech goes down, sound detection a hyperacusic Salarian on LSD couldn’t even dream of… ”Maybe we should’ve figured this out before we were literally opening the door? Like during the briefing or the shuttle ride? Just a suggestion. Why couldn’t the person on the inside do it again?” she asked no one in particular, gaze focused on what lay beyond the gate.
”And here’s the last one, good morning… Heloooo?” she turned to the remaining Humans when the latest arrival disappeared in one of the rooms without a word, pointing at the room in question. ”Manners not a thing on Earth? We only export those to select colonies?”

As the briefing commenced, Lantea opened a blank text file on her omni-tool to take notes. Then closed it still blank when the highly simplistic briefing ended. She would’ve liked more information. A lot more. A breakdown of the floorplan, assigned roles and order in the stack, method of approach… Fortunately, there was some familiarity to the operation. Kidnapping people who did something stupid that pissed off her employer, who wanted said person in their possession as a result of that and stealing their things to implicate them while they were at it. Not too dissimilar to some of her previous work, perhaps shedding a bit of light on the reason for her inclusion in the task force.

With the briefing concluded and the squad leader leaving, she took off in the direction of her kit bag, already out of boots and top by the time the door closed behind her. The operation seemed… about as well organized as when their merry little band started over thirty years ago, minus delusions of grandeur and with actual funding. Lantea turned the relevant bag inside out and started getting geared up: Armor - check. The Asari donned it quickly, something she learned during countless depressurization drills. Weapons - check. Grenades - check. Not what she expected to need on this run if everything went well, but when did it ever? Best case scenario, they go in, grab Daezike’s drives, then sit around on her couch until she gets home, stuff her in a bag with the drives and go home. Worst case scenario… Anything fun happens. The omni-tool connected to the armor and she ran a diagnostic to make sure everything worked. Shields - check. Zakarth’s crib would probably be guarded anyway. Rich people always had someone watching their stuff, as did underlings important to their criminal bosses. This lizard was both of those. Tech armor - check. She was about to stop being an asset and become a problem for the rogue Spectre.

The civvie shuttle waiting on the roof wasn’t anything special, which - again, like the patrol composition on the ward - made it perfect. It fit in seamlessly among the other grocery getters, no one would pay it any attention. With every minute she spent on the Citadel, C-Sec looked more and more competent in contrast to the stories shared around the Traverse. Getting in and finding a seat, she waited for everyone to board before speaking up with a safety lecture. ”Right, in case this is your first time running with someone using tech armor:” Lantea switched on the warning lights to illustrate, ”If this comes on, that means I’m surrounded by a warp field contained between two kinetic barriers. When the lights are blue, all is well, but keep an eye out. When they start turning orange, keep away. When they go red, the outer barrier is about to fail and when that happens, don’t be within four meters of me unless there’s a full wall between us.” the lights cycled through the spectrum before going out again, her attention back on their commander. ”So how are we going in? Loud and fast? And what sort of resistance do we expect?”
And the answers were starting to come. ”Ah, hi there. Finally someone, I was starting to worry I had the wrong address or something.” she swung her feet off the windowsill and got up to give Arthur’s hand a firm shake with a friendly smile, ”Lantea T’Keli. Room over there is free, grab the best bed before more people show up.” she gestured toward the second bedroom door with her left hand just as Key entered the apartment. ”Aaaaand here’s another, like- Wait, Bucket? What are you-?” she paused, realizing her mistake and turning back to Arthur, ”Nevermind, different Quarian with a green rag. But what she said, what’s your shtick? Not regular military or cop, they don’t let those grow big, beautiful beards like that. Does your helmet even seal properly?” she continued with a smile as she flicked her wrist surrounded by a blue glow, hurling the empty noodle box into the trash bin on her way to the couch.

She sprang right back to her feet no more than a few seconds after she sat down, her hand stopping just short of drawing her Stiletto when she realized the Vorcha introduced himself politely and without drooling. ”Son of a bitch, the legends were true. There are Vorcha with more than two brain cells bouncing around the inside of their skull, picture that.” the Asari grinned as she sat back down, postponing any further introductions until more people arrived.

The sight of Sivus, on the other hand, was a very welcome one. If her previous experiences were anything to go by, a Turian might bring some order and discipline into the group, an important thing to have when setting up a new team. His drinking comment made Lantea chuckle. ”If I had ten credits for every time I heard that, I’d be retiring by now. I’m Lantea, I guess I’m here to take fire so the lot of you don’t have to.” she got up to shake Sivus’ and Liyah’s hands, leaning closer to the latter with a subtle nod toward Osum, ”Don’t worry about that, they’re short-lived, it’ll be gone in a decade or so.” she whispered.
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