The sun was low over Kadara Port as Sara Ryder disembarked the Tempest. As uneasy as she was to be unarmed in a city full of thieves, exiles, and who knew what else, she admitted to herself that it was a relief to be out of her armor after the searing heat of Elaaden. Still, Sara knew it would be necessary to keep her wits about her. No matter what Sloane Kelly had ordered, the port was no place to let your guard down.
It was with that in mind that she leaned on the bar, slowly sipping the one beer she allowed herself.
"You look like you're waiting for someone."
The statement was nearly a question, especially when offered with a small glass of whiskey. The direct gaze meant that he either didn't know who she was or simply didn't care. If she was honest with herself, both were equally welcome. Being the Pathfinder, the face at the front of the Andromeda Initiative, was more than a full-time job and she wanted to spend five minutes talking to someone who didn't treat her with either suspicion or deference.
However, there was business to be settled. Sara smiled apologetically and raised her glass. "I'm afraid I'm not waiting for you."
His amber eyes didn't waver for a moment as he drained both whiskeys. "Shena. But please, call me Reyes. I hate code names."
"Reyes." Sara let the name roll off her tongue, allowing herself to really look at the dark-complected man. "The name's Sara Ryder. Although I have to say, I was expecting someone more…angaran."
He chuckled. "The angara pay me for information, among other things." The smirk he tossed her said he damn well knew what she'd been expecting. And that he was fully enjoying her surprise.
Head in the game, Ryder, she told herself firmly. You need this information to rescue the Moshae.
"So you're a smuggler." The flat statement only broadened his smile.
"Among other things," he repeated. "But the intel is good. I can help you get your man."
"And your price?" she asked, looking out across the bar.
She felt as well as heard his voice drop two pitches. "We can negotiate later, but you'll owe me some favors."
Sara stopped herself before she could say something embarrassing. She retreated into her cold, logical mask as they discussed details—the practical Initiative engineer once more.
Reyes found himself wanting more as Sara hammered out details with surprising efficiency, the warmth he'd sensed in her earlier giving way to a sharp and businesslike focus. Her dark eyes, which appeared brown at first, turned out to have glints of deep green and gold within. Determined to feel that sparkle again—a rarity in a place like Kadara—he chose to walk away before she could dismiss him entirely.
"Reyes," she called. "How will I contact you if this all goes south?"
He glanced back over his shoulder, flashed her a small smile, and winked. And was gratified to see the beginning of a blush creep over her face.
As he navigated his Resistance contacts, Reyes caught himself wondering what her laugh might sound like. He located a pilot who was willing to smuggle Terev off the planet, an enzyme that would eat through the restraints in the holding cell, and an access code that would open the maintenance shaft.
He also heard from one of his people that Sloane had disliked Sara on sight, but Sara was still moving freely through the port.
It wasn't long before he found her again, luckily in a shaded corner of the market. Her nose wrinkled when she spotted him and let out a small snort.
Reyes couldn't help teasing her a little. "Did you have a nice chat?"
"Sloane wasn't interested in talking," Sara muttered. "Please tell me you had more success than I did with that piece of work."
"I have most of what you need. Access codes, transport, and this." He handed her the small tube of enzyme, letting his fingers linger only the barest second on her gloved hand. "It can't be traced back to us. I hope you find this acceptable."
"Almost. I believe you owe me a drink."
Reyes lifted a hand in apology. "Normally I'm the perfect gentleman."
Sara quirked one dark eyebrow at him. "Why don't I believe you?"
"Because I am lying, of course." His reward was a small but genuine smile. "Good luck, Sara."
Vehn Terev had been extracted, the Moshae rescued, and Sara Ryder was pacing the bridge of the Tempest. Suvi's blue eyes followed her, and some concern showed in her voice. "Pathfinder, is everything all right?"
How do I answer that? Sara wondered. She knew she wasn't liked in Kadara-working with the Nexus would do that-but why had Reyes offered so openly to be her eyes on the ground? What had she gotten into, agreeing to owe him a favor? And why did she keep seeing his wink before he walked away?
She settled for a half-truth. "Nothing's wrong, Suvi. Just trying to think three or four moves ahead."
"Ooh," said Kallo from his seat at the helm. "Remind me not to play chess against you, Pathfinder."
"I'll play chess with you, Kallo," Suvi responded. "But I'm shite, so you'll have to play cribbage against me to make up for it."
The salarian bristled. "You only skunked me once, and I still don't even know what you meant by that."
"Pathfinder," SAM said quietly. "You have new communications from Liam, Dr. T'Perro, and Reyes Vidal."
Bringing up her email on her omnitool, Sara quickly skimmed over some ramblings from Liam on his time in crisis response, an update on the crew's medical needs from the doctor, and focused her attention on a brief note from the smuggler-turned-Resistance fighter. He was requesting assistance in finding a murderer in Kadara Port.
"Suvi, Kallo, plot a course for Kadara," she ordered. "If you need me, I'll be in the armory." Sara jogged across the ship, slid down a ladder, and found Vetra at her favorite workbench, lovingly cleaning a wicked-looking sniper rifle.
"Hello, Pathfinder," Vetra greeted her. "I can spare some room here if you need to work."
"Thanks, Vee." Sara pulled out her sidearm, a battered Carnifex, and began to dismantle it mechanically. The turian hummed quietly for a few minutes, then frowned.
"Expecting trouble at our next stop? Thought we were headed to the Nexus."
Sara shook her head as she snapped the pistol scope into place. "We're heading back to Kadara Port first. Someone's asked us for help there. Do you know a smuggler named Reyes Vidal?"
Vetra's fringe twitched thoughtfully. "Only by reputation. He's the contact?"
"He is. But I wonder if I'm doing the right thing, working with a known criminal." She polished the stock, then set down her rag with a sigh.
"You tried to work with Sloane Kelly," Vetra pointed out. "And from what I know of Vidal, he's mostly clean. You know, aside from the smuggling. Doesn't kill if he can avoid it, no drugs, that sort of thing."
"He's still an exile," Sara grumbled.
"Hey, if you want a morality compass, you're talking to the wrong woman. I think Cora's in the mess if you need some Initiative doctrine."
"Ha ha. Don't let her hear you say that."
"Are you kidding? I saw her nearly fight a krogan hand-to-hand back on Elaaden. Would have been a bloodbath if Drack hadn't talked her down."
"Wait, Drack was the voice of reason?" Sara was stunned. "How did I miss that?"
"I think you were fighting a fiend at the time. Hey, leave your Avenger with me until we dock. I picked up a new barrel I think you'll like."
"Thanks, Vetra."
