Omega

Grace Kennedy

She tried to hear what the machine man's boss was saying. It was difficult but with a bit of strain she picked up that they accepted the job. Oh, this was fantastic! Another bit of information she picked up was the machine man's name was Mayce, the one who called her strange had been Chimish and she had only smiled at that comment. It was true, she was a bit odd. Thankfully before she had a chance to bust out on another tangent, telling the group all about their own crew, Norik asked her if she had seen Nathan. "No sir, I didn't see him anywhere. My goggles don't work with all of this noise though so I'm sure he's fine and I just missed him." She said this more as a comforting phrase for herself. Grace was beginning to realize that asides this group they had met, Omega was pretty scary. Hopefully Nathan was alright.

----------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth Ackerman

Elizabeth had lit herself a cigarette while Jeron ranted about scrubbing Volus parts off of the side of the ship. She could only grin as he did so until he finally got back on track. "Quite obvious they're really yearning for whatever these scientists will have. I'm interested to find out what it is." Jeron had a point, of course a point Elizabeth had already realized but a point none the less. Cerberus must be hot for whatever they'd be bringing back if they were willing to hire an almost entirely non-human crew.

She lazily blew a puff of smoke from her lips as Jeron picked at Gizmo while he walked by. Her ears caught the faint swear the accident prone Quarian sent to Jeron and she chuckled. "Yes, I suppose he'll eventually reach the level of competency. I quite like having a walking disaster as a secret weapon though. Worst comes to worst we could send him into enemy territory then sit back and watch the fireworks."

When he mentioned Cortex however she fully turned her head to face him. "He's out on errands." She smudged the cigarette out on the railing then flicked it away. "I suggest not mentioning his addictions ever again though. If he were to catch on that you knew then I'm fairly certain you would end up in my work room by his own order. He doesn't like to appear weak, you know that." Although to those who had been around him often, it was obvious their leader had a few problems if you will. Mentioning to his face or him knowing that you mentioned his habits as a weakness usually didn't turn out well for anyone.

At Jeron's next question she eased back onto the railing as she thought. "Probably in no more than a few hours. Getting anxious are we?" She grinned teasingly at Jeron then quickly tapped out a message to Cortex. Interrupting was something she never enjoyed doing but considering their line of work, a check in every now and then wasn't a bad idea. Errands going smoothly?

As the interview went on, Michael's curiosity got the better of him. By the time Roz was introducing Chim and Mayce, he was watching the scene with avid interest. Well, given the recent events of scraping the bottom of the barrel to make enough money, who could blame him? The grin on Mike's face became more and more evident as the interview drew to a close; they were getting some of the pay up front, and better yet, two weeks off of Omega! Granted, the exact length of time would depend on how many hours were in each day on Carcosa, but still... two weeks!

And yet the drell didn't stop there. He even had enough generosity left in him to pay for all their drinks! Michael leant back against the bar, as if in some sort of catatonic state. It took a while for his brain to catch up with the events and make an inquiry.

"What... just... happened?" he asked, slowly and carefully, secretly hoping that he hadn't fallen asleep and started dreaming all sorts of crazy things. The human quickly got up and made an attempt at regaining his composure. It was only moderately successful, as he was still a little "shell-shocked" from the news. Well, if the drell was paying for the drinks, then there was nothing to worry about for now.

"Hey, Forvan! The usual, if you'd be so kind!" With a sigh, the batarian slid a can of beer down the bar, where Michael caught it with an expert hand before pulling the tab and actually managing to down the whole thing in one go. Practice makes perfect, as they say. Slamming the can down on the bar with a contented sigh, Mike turned back round to face the others, feeling ready for damn near anything.

"I'll just go get my things together and meet you at the ship, shall I?" he asked Roz. Before the turian could answer, however, the human just remembered that he'd not yet introduced himself to their clients. "Oh, by the way, Michael Gallagher, at your service," he said, only hanging around for a few moments longer before leaving, in case one of them wanted to say anything to him.

Mayce stood there in tough silence. he took his place near Roz after the blind girl had recognized the Drell's voice and had rushed to him. Apparently, she was with the potential client. Mayce definitely with this little one. Then Chim showed up and made things a little awkward. But, Chim would be Chim, no power in the Verse could change that. He then noticed Persephone slink over in all of her intoxicated glory. Even when she's toasted, she knows when to not talk. She always intrigued him, he thought someone raised as a slave to be a little more.........docile and a little less hostile. Though, he doubted she remembered telling him about her slave days. She was cross-fading hard and he was really......naked. She'd probably kill him if she found out he knew....or not. That was what he liked about Persephone. She had an air of unpredictability about her predictability. When Grace started rambling he leaned over to Persephone and whispered. "She's so adorable.......couldn't you just puke? It's like, making me genuinely sick to my stomach to see someone that innocent, you know?" Mayce said to her, snickering under his breath. It had been a long time since he had seen someone that innocent. The last time was years ago on Earth in Miami. It was a girl named April and he had just.......wait a minute, Mayce had never been to Earth. Nor had he met anyone named April. Where the fuck did that come from? Mayce shook it off and got back to the deal at hand.

When Roz gestured to him, he gave a little nod and salute to the Drell, "Chief." he simply said to him. Names were exchanged, along with information and the such. Mayce wasn't exactly paying attention. He was sort of just staring off into space and just waiting for the meeting to be over. He couldn't let go what he saw in his head. Where did that memory come from? Was it from his old life? Did he use to live on Earth in Miami? Just more questions and less answers. Then again, Mayce was used to it. When the meeting seemed to be over, Mayce walked over to Roz and leaned down in so no one could hear in a professional way. "Well somebody owes me an apology, I believe. I found the employers little lost lamb, making him trust us immediately and giving us fair deals. Along with your negotiating skills as well. No need to thank me, Roz. Just knowing I helped is enough." He pulled back and smiled at her a very cocky smile. His brow then furrowed at him remembering something. "One last thing, now stop me if I'm wrong here, but, I don't recall us owning a ship? Or am I just on the fritz?"

Elizabeth Ackerman


Elizabeth pardoned herself from her conversation with Jeron to read the message Cortex had sent. A half smirk appeared on her face out of amusement. Did Cortex really think she would offer her body to someone? That just simply wasn't how she worked. She tapped a quick reply, telling him it would be done before turning to Jeron and the recently returned Faltus. "Well it seems I'm off once again. Be good boys, I have a quick job to run then I'll be back."

The pounding music of Afterlife did nothing but give her a headache and the wretched smell of dirty drunks did nothing but add to the throb. She took one more look at the picture that had come with the message Cortex had sent. This Dr. Isamov certainly looked to be a clean-cut fellow, perhaps she'd get along with him better than previously thought. Her eyes scanned the crowds and landed on a few newcomers having a chat that rag-tag mercenary team. Neither of them were the good doctor however so she continued to look and was surprised to spot him in the middle of a gaggle of batarians. Oh, just wonderful.

"Excuse me dear. Pardon me. Keep your hands to yourself unless you want to lose a digit darling." She politely excused herself through the crowd until finally reaching the table he was sitting at. "Ah, here we are." After taking a seat Elizabeth neatly brushed a few wrinkles out of her clothes before addressing Nathan. "My name is Elizabeth Ackerman, Dr. Isamov and it seems you have attracted the attention of my employer." She hesitated a moment before offering her hand for a shake. He didn't seem to terribly unclean. "I'd like to discuss a business proposition with you dear. I can promise you whatever you want, we can offer."

A satisfied feeling spread from somewhere in the pit of Roz’s stomach. Finally, something had gone right. She could immediately tell that her group had nothing better to do, considering nearly all of them had managed to gather around her. If she didn’t know them, it would be imposing, but with a face like Michael’s around, it was a safe bet that they meant little harm. Plus Persephone was obviously wasted. Roz assumed she blew all her money on booze and sighed heavily. Pure professionalism in each of them. She nodded slightly and took the Drell’s hand to shake, a human gesture, strange to come from a Drell. “No, thank you. You have no idea how dull Omega’s been. It’ll be like a vacation. Maybe even with some shooting. Aren’t you excited, Chim?” She mused, pulling her hand away to do some calculations on her omnitool. She distributed the wealth between her team members, making sure Michael had a significant portion. She paused as a series of words finally sank in. She leaned on the counter closer to the Drell.

“Ah, we do have a minor problem. Our merry band doesn’t exactly own a ship. I had one once, but the little clunker had to be scrapped seven years ago so I could eat. It’s a long story. If you can’t accommodate all of us, I can work something out.” She sat back, furrowing the plates on her brow in thought. If they couldn’t carry her crew on the ship, then she’d have to choose who to send. Definitely Chimish. He’d at least behave himself. She hoped he’d behave himself. Perhaps Persephone if she sobered up. Mayce was a clear choice, but if she could only send some of her crew she preferred to have him around in case there was another job opportunity. She could sink most of their new-gotten money into renting a ship. She could get a loan from Aria, although that essentially left her with indentured servitude for half an eternity. I’m far too old and too smart to owe a debt to Aria. Perhaps she could commandeer a vessel from the Blue Suns. They had been encroaching on her little territory for some time now. Two weeks away from Omega would be a fantastic time to toy with them. Her hand reached out for the back of Michael’s collar.

“Try not to get too hammered on free drink. You have work to do. I’ve made you a shopping list.” She released the human male’s collar to send her list from her Omnitool to his. “Pack sunscreen. You humans are all pasty and covered in sensitive skin. And helmets, and thermal protection. It’ll be hotter than a drive core on fire on the surface of that planet. And a repair kit. I do not need a repeat of the time Chimish broke his only gun on the face of a Blue Sun Turian.” She said, cradling her face in her palm as she recalled the event. She only had Chimish around at that point in time, but a year was a short time and Roz had a very long memory. Each little annoyance imposed upon her was stored in her mind to bring her additional grief every time she remembered. She was just thankful she wasn’t a Drell. Then she could relive each minor disturbance. She turned her attention to Mayce, who had picked this time to gloat. She chose to ignore this and address the more serious question.

“I’ll have it handled. Five hours isn’t much time, you should get ready.” She cast a sideways glance to Persephone. “And get her cleaned up and packed. I have doubts that she’s actually standing on her own at this point. Make sure you bring extra water and your helmets and ammunition. I hate this thermal clip thing everyone’s switched to. More efficient and yet, more of a pain in the ass.” She sighed, standing from her seat before sending out a message to her absent members of her little gang. “Five hours isn’t much time at all.”

We have a job. Pack for two weeks in the hottest desert planet you can think of. You’ve received a cash advance to provide for your gear. You have five hours to collect your gear and be in hangar 14 or I will leave your ass here for the Vorcha.
-Scarlet

Lorelei Aomori

“Goody-two shoes?” Scoffing, Lorelei cupped the underside of each breast, wrinkling the shiny black fabric, and made a minor adjustment, just enough to ensure they were snugly nestled within her armor. “I don’t need to take off my clothes to lure home your dinner. Do I, Blaze?”

She glanced over at the Varren stretched across the couch on the other side of her living room. A pair of bulbous amber eyes set in a crimson skull peered up at the Asari, thin membranes slowly opening and closing over them twice before the beast shifted his massive form and turned his snout toward the cushion.

Lorelei tugged on the zipper to her bodysuit before turning back to the mirror. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s been slim pickings since that Spectre started clearing the galactic tables, but business will pick up, I promise. For now, it’s back to teasing the local drunks until I can afford to buy our way off this rock.”

Blaze snorted and heaved a sigh in response, nose still buried in the couch.

Goddess, Sha’ira. If only you could see me now. Killing thugs for money and all but stripping on stage… Would you still say I answered The Calling? Wiping the last streak of red lipstick from her mouth with a napkin off the stack she had pilfered from the bar, she regarded the slate-eyed reflection staring back at her. Who is this woman? I’m not sure I even recognize her anymore.

An electronic blip from her computer console on the coffee table diverted her attention.

“Talk to me,” she responded, and heard from her overhead speaker faint interference in the background as the interface on the other end of the line established a secure connection.

“Lori, I didn’t mean what I said earlier. Forgive and forget?” a gruff voice replied.

“Only for you, Pierce,” she told her stage manager. “Only for you. I have few stops to make on my way down to the bar, but-”

“So, you’re still doing the show tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for all the Eezo on Thessia.” Lorelei set the used napkin down on the shelf and looked at it thoughtfully. Then again…

“Great, I just got your get-up from the cleaners. See you at ten, Princess.”

“Princess,” she muttered after he disconnected, jerking on her belt to pull the buckle taut, and swiped her pistol off the coffee table.

Even Blaze opened one eye, and if Varren could roll their eyes, she would have sworn he just did.

“If I could slice off a Krogan testicle for every time I heard a man call me 'Princess'… Goody-two shoes. We’ll see about that.”

Norik rushed over to the Jitterbug. He updated Karin on the situation in a sum of words, his excitement urging him to more pressing matters. It had been several hours since Norik secured a business partnership with Roz and he was eager to begin preparations. He surveyed the specs and drive core in the engine room, check listed the exploratory and mining tools in the cargo hold and went through all of the lab equipment when it finally hit him. They were finally going to Carcosa. His thoughts instantly fell on Dr. Isamov who still didn't show up or bother to respond to Norik's contact calls. The Drell reasoned he was still partying somewhere in the Afterlife but a small node of concern suggested something more dramatic. He shook away those doubts and returned to his work. I'll look for him when I'm finished here, he reasoned. The better of his conscious thought against it. Caught between his work or his crew, he slammed the data pad down and went for the ship's exit.

"Karin, I'll be back. I'm going to look for-"

The ship entrance door slid open and Norik instinctively grabbed for the heavy pistol on his side. When he realized it was Isamov, he relaxed his hand but his eyes fixed on the blood around his coat. Batarian blood.

"Dr. Isamov!? Are you alright?" He rushed over to the human.

Nathan held up a hand to keep Norik from coming closer. "I'm ok, Mr. Calos. Just got into a bit of trouble is all." He forced a smile.

"What kind of trouble? Were you followed?" Norik's eyes widened.

"We better get out of here, Norik. Batarians don't like a human - especially one with a doctorate - that can fight."

The Drell scowled at Nathan as he bumped past him to look out into the hangar. When nothing out of the ordinary stuck out, he closed the door shut then pressed the intercom.

"Alright we're cutting corners. Karin, get ready to undock for the Relay as soon as you can." The Drell's dark eyes fell sharply on Nathan.

"When we get past the Mass Relay you owe me an explanation." Norik snapped, bringing his omni tool to life. After a series of keys, he ran a communication line with Roz, "Good day, mam, its Norik Calos. I know you mentioned your team didn't have a ship. Time is of importance now and I'm willing to accommodate you all on my vessel. Please hurry, one of my cohorts may have caused some trouble with some vagrants."

"What are you doing?! Who is Roz?"

Norik glared up at the human who dared to question his motives. "While you were busy putting us all in danger, I hired a security team. You'd know that if you answered my calls."

"Sorry if I was too busy running for my life!" Nathan yelled, but the Drell ignored him as he shifted back to the small viewport window next to the door. A terrifying revelation suddenly draped over Norik as he cleared his mind.

"Grace is still out there." The Drell palmed the digital hatch opening the door once more.

"Let me go, this is my fault-"

"Yes, it is your fault. But if you go out there, they could spot you and make you lead them back here and jeopardize everything. Do us all a favor and stay here."

Norik was already on the Omega hangar before Nathan could get a word in. He stood there, emotionless, as the door finally shut.

-----

Three Batarians armed with rifles and a shotgun trampled into the hangar, scanning the area with their multiple eyes.

"Don't kill the human bastard, you hear me?!" The one with a shotgun barked. The others had their rifles pointed in front of them, "Aim for his arms or legs. Nothing vital. I want him alive when I torture him."

Persephone tried to figure out what was happening, but it was far too confusing, and the ground wouldn't stop shaking. As the sides of her vision started to darken she looked fondly to Roz and took a few shaky steps to the bar, pulling herself onto the seat and slowly laying her head down on the bar top. She closed her eyes, listening to the pounding beat of music that filled the air. Mommy, I wanna go out in play,she grumbled to a delusion she was having.

She would be ready to go when they needed her, she was a mostly functional drunk and a fanatical combatant. If omega would stop spinning and shaking, she'd be good to go.

"When have I ever let you down, Roz?" Michael asked with a smile before walking away from the bar, setting off to get the supplies ready. True, they already had most of the stuff they needed back at the base, but it didn't hurt to shop for a few extras. Roz had given him some extra money, after all. It only made sense to put it to good use.

Within the space of half an hour, Michael had reached one of Omega's many open markets. To an outsider, it was no different from any other, but Mike knew it as the one he stopped by most often. The reason being that it had his favourite one-stop shop for standard military equipment. Why exactly was it his favourite? Well, giving the owners some protection that was worth paying for eventually earned Roz's team a generous 35% discount, which was the cornerstone of resupplying the mercenary group between missions.

"Delighted: Welcome back, sir. What can I do for you today." The elcor shopkeeper greeted Michael with a smile that was undetectable to anyone other than his own species. Michael simply typed away at his omni-tool and brought up the list Roz provided earlier. "How much for this little lot, Darnek?" he asked the shopkeeper. When Darnek named his price, the human couldn't help but wince a little; it was stepping over budget, meaning that the extra costs would have to be paid for out of his own pocket. Well, it was a good thing he'd been paid a fraction of the reward up front, otherwise he probably wouldn't have been able to afford the equipment. Internal heat regulators for armour could get pretty expensive, but they were easy enough to install. In theory.

Once the transaction was complete, Mike left the store to shop for the remainder of the items that were on the list before going over to the base to stock up on ammunition, as well as gathering a few personal possessions; if everything went according to plan, chances are that he wouldn't have to come back to Omega.

About an hour later, Mike walked into a rather bloodstained hangar just as the supplies he had ordered earlier were being loaded onto the ship. Batarian corpses were littered across the floor, and call it a hunch, but it just might have been something to do with the krogan in the room. "Chim! How's things? Been... busy, I take it?" Michael walked over to the two of them, avoiding stepping on the dead bodies along the way.

Kinderheim pulled his Phalanx out, put his hand above his cover, and fired four shots. Two enemies screamed in pain, others started shouting, and Ranek shot from his sniper, killing another guy.

Kinderheim knew he was lucky because they were quite a few enemies so chances of him hitting them blind was good. The trick was to keep the pistol parallel to the ground and to change the direction of firing slightly after each shot.

Two more shots from Ranek's rifle and the enemies started scrambling for the elevator but if they went towards it they opened themselves to Kinderheim. Within a few minutes the death toll reached eight. Suddenly someone shouted and Kinderheim heard something falling near him, something small...

The grenade destroyed most of the cargo he was using for cover and threw him 20 feet backwards. Ranek spoke on the radio: Still Alive?

Kinderheim wasn't heavily injured, thanks to his suit, but he was badly shaken up. His mind wasn't concentrating. People were shouting all around... or maybe it was just his mind reliving the screams of those he tortured?

Kinderheim coughed a few times. There was smoke all around him and he was coughing blood. Fucking lungs...

Kinderheim spoke on the radio: Unfortunately... Where are they?[\b]

Kinderheim tried to move but he was stuck. It took him nearly three minutes to get the container off him.
[b]Too much smoke... I'm taking him out of here while I have the chance. Meet me at my place, came the reply. Just as he stood another explosion threw more debris at him and he fell to the ground.

He needed to get out here quickly before the fire reached the armoury. A few shots were fired and the firefight started again. So... the Eclipse weren't who he was fighting a few minutes ago.

It took him five minutes to reach the elevator. Something was on fire because the smoke was refusing go away...Their problem now...

---

Ranek's place

"You are not fit to be a Turian and you shall die today," said Ranek angrily and spat on Septimus' face. Septimus looked sad which surprised Kinderheim. Sad because a fellow Turian is going to die?

"I didn't do anything..." said Septimus and got a punch in the stomach for that. He was bound to his chair.

"What now?" asked Kinderheim. Only an hour remained before the Roz left and he didn't want to miss that.

"Finish this," said Septimus. "What?" said a surprised Ranek and looked back at Kinderheim. Kinderheim had a gun to his face. "What the fuck?!" Ranek shouted. But instead of killing Ranek, Kinderheim hit his face with the end of his gun, knocking him out.

"Thank you," said Septimus as Kinderheim. A few minutes later, Septimus and Kinderheim started walking towards Hangar 14, as two krogans went to get the unconscious Ranek.

"Plans?" asked Kinderheim as windowshopped. He didn't any money thanks to those Krogans... "Also, my money?"

"I was there you know," started Septimus, "We nearly killed him and took his wife for ourselves. We rap... she is still alive and on Palaven. We gonna send him there." He stopped at a store and said, "Go on ahead. I have work..."

Kinderheim reached Hangar 14 and saw the dead bodies being removed. He reached just in time...

"You forgot something," said a harsh voice. It was the Krogan who did errands for Septimus. He handed Kinderheim his bag, said, "I kept some ammo for your guns," and left. He stood before the Jitterbug and wondered if this was the ship...

Once again, Mike's role as the team dogsbody was beginning to shine in all its proverbial glory, for what it was worth. And Mayce had lumbered him with Persephone to boot. Well, at least he got recognition for getting the supplies delivered to the ship in good order. Michael had even paid a little bit extra to have his own luggage carted aboard the ship for him. True, it might have been a little selfish of him, but it wasn't unfair to indulge himself in a little something every now and then, right?

Quickly thinking up some sort of plan, Michael had to act now or else risk getting shot by the batarians once they arrived. "Okay, Grace, you might want to run for your life back to the ship. We'll handle this. Trust me." With one problem out of the way, Mike gently set the biotic he was carrying down on the floor, making sure she was steady and upright before continuing. Just in time to see those batarians round the corner and enter the hangar.

"Hey, look," he said to Persephone. "Think you can take those guys out?" Mike pointed at the batarians who were beginning to open fire on their position. "I'll help you out from back here, so don't worry," Mike added as he went behind some unused crates, the nearest available cover he could find. Safe from any shrapnel sent his way, he readied his Mattock rifle and provided fire support for the group, making sure to keep an eye out for any foes who were angling to blindside his comrades out on the front lines.

Empty stims, broken glass and grit crunched beneath Lorelei’s boots as she made her way down the back alley, navigating refuse from torn packages and discarded food. The air stank of Vorcha urine, a pungent odor that stung her nostrils, and she forced herself to take shallow breaths, covering her nose until she exited onto the street, when a muted beep came from her cargo pocket.

Keeping an eye out for trouble here seemed like a moot point, since there was always something going on, but she did nonetheless, glancing down only to pull out her datapad. She thumbed the icon at the bottom left corner of her screen.

New Message Received:
HarmonicLaw>>WintryDissension
Yes, everything will proceed as planned. Don’t forget to pick up your “gift.”

Original Message
-------------------------------------------------
WintryDissension>>HarmonicLaw
Are we still on for tonight?

Lorelei brought up the character panel. Either he’s playing me, or he’s a complete moron. Think about it, an anonymous tip from some guy who claims he’s a Drell working for a private corporation looking for ‘skilled’ biotics? I’ve never even met the man, but he’s offering a lot of money. It’s a chance I’m willing to take, even if I have to mix things up a little. Her thumbs deftly maneuvered the screen as she keyed in her reply before pocketing the datapad.

I won’t. Meet me outside the VIP lounge after the show. Come alone.

She stopped outside of one of the apartment doors and pressed the call button.

“Whoisit?” a voice, garbled by static, answered from the small speaker on the console.

Lorelei held in the button with her index finger, so hard she could see lightening blotches form along the faint lines around the skin of her knuckle. “Open up, Jax, it’s me.”

There was a sound from the other end of the line that sounded like an annoyed grumble before a green light illuminated the console and the door slid open. Inside, the foyer was deserted, but the hall on the opposite end of the living room was backlit by a dim yellow cadence. The Asari glanced around the large room. Relatively dust-free due to the artificial atmosphere, it still had a dingy look. The sofa was stained with dark splotches, used syringes and white streaks lined the coffee table; empty bottles and colorful plastic wrappers littered the floor, along with numerous rusty coils, scrap metal and circuitry. Lorelei ran her index finger through one of the streaks on the table as she passed. A gritty substance coated her fingertip. What’s this, is he mixing drugs now to stay on the market? She stopped to lightly sniff it when she heard Jax’s voice from the back room.

“Come on back,” he called.

She wiped the grit between thumb and forefinger and made her way into the hall.

“Lori, Baby, Sweetheart, how are you? Come on in,” Jax said almost too cheerily, looking up from his desk as she entered, all four pairs of his black eyes staring her down. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here about the rent.”

“What about it? You’re late. And you still owe me two months.”

Lorelei crossed her arms and replied curtly, “I paid you last week for the month before. I thought you said you were going to fix the heating unit?”

“You get what you pay for, tramp,” he retorted disdainfully. “What do you think this is, Illium or something? I should charge you extra for all those men you bring back there every night."

The Asari rolled her eyes. “Two. There were only two, and that was over a week ago. I’m a dancer, if taking home a couple of drunk losers every once in a while keeps your pockets lined, what do you care?”

“I don’t, until people start missing payments.”

“Take care of the heat, and you’ll get your money.”

Getting up from his seat, Jax slammed his fist down on the desk with a resonating thud. “Go fix it yourself! Give me my money, or I’ll throw your ass on the street. Better yet,” he added, crossing the room to where she stood, barring her exit with one arm. “I’m sure we can work out a deal, you know, a little understanding between you and me.”

Wrinkling her nose at the putrid smell of his breath, she shrank away, reaching for her pistol, but he grabbed her wrist as soon as her hand closed around the grip.
“Hey, you’re hurting me!” Lorelei grimaced as he squeezed her fingers, forcing her to drop the gun, and pushed her roughly against the wall. “Ow! Let go of me, you son-of-a-bitch.”

He raised a hand to slap her, but the blow never came. A glowing blue aura emanated from the fingertips of her open right hand, and he suddenly flew across the room, sliding butt-first across his desk, brushing away papers and knocking aside the loose crap littering his workspace. His head slammed into his swivel chair, and the blow propelled him into the wall. He let out an enraged cry as he tried to struggle to his feet.

The momentum of her blow briefly pinned her against the wall, but she recovered quickly, bending to pick up her gun, and vaulted over his desk. He issued a grunt of pain as she rammed her knee into his groin until he expelled nearly all the air from his lungs. Even in his position, his gaze flitted to her perched form.

“Eyes up, Asshole,” she growled, delicately looping her index finger around the trigger and pointing the pistol at his face. She wrapped her right hand around his throat in a vice-like grip, and her palm began to glow again. “Have you ever seen a biotic snap somebody’s neck?”

He squirmed beneath her, trying desperately to wriggle free of the hot, crackling energy traveling the length of her fingers.

“I should just kill you. Even the scum around here have standards, and I’m sure they wouldn’t want to find out you’re lacing their stims,” she intimated, searching his stare for some sign of recognition. His eyes went suddenly wide with fear. That’s it.

“No, please,” he pleaded. “You’ll-”

“What? Ruin your business? Stop you from robbing your tenants?”

Jax looked from the gun, to the hand around his neck, and back to her. He screamed, shutting his eyes as she started to squeeze the trigger.
Shifting her aim, she discharged the weapon at the back of his chair, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the shot rang out. The color drained from his face, and he let out a whimper, only to open his eyes when he realized he wasn’t dead. He glanced over at the smoldering hole torn into the synthetic black material.

“Shit… shit… oh shit,” he cursed, gasping for breath, and met her eyes, still trembling from shock. “Please, whatever you want, just don’t… don’t kill me.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can work out a deal, you know, a little… understanding,” Lorelei sneered, clenching his jaw between her fingers. She pushed away from the wall her with one foot, turning the chair so the back of it knocked into the desk behind them. “You want to live? Fine, then. Let’s talk business.”