A cloaked figure strode cautiously through a crowded marketplace, eyes scanning the crowd constantly, just in case his target came into his sight. Two of his eyes were blocked by the black cloth drawn over one half of his face, mostly to conceal his identity, but the other two remained watchful. The passing crowd was mostly a blur, but his target was very noticeable, and he was sure that he would not miss him if he passed.
His searching was rudely interrupted when a passing quarian shouldered him aside with a rude comment, and without a passing glace. The figure cursed, and quickened his pace, only to find it hampered within a minute by a cluster of elcor stomping slowly through the crowd. He had little time for such nonsense, so he brushed past them without a single word.
Finally seeing the exit he was looking for, he made a quick turn into a dimly lit alley. Another left, and a right, and a glowing sign came into view. The shop drew little attention from the busy street, intentionally so. This store could not be found accidentally.
The figure approached the store carefully. As he came up to the store front, a large krogan sneered down at him. He pulled down the cloth covering his face, and a fleeting glace of surprise flashed over the shopkeeper's face before it became a mix of disgust and confusion.
"A batarian? Why would you leave the isolation of your home? Is my shop really that well-known, or are you here on business?" the shopkeeper asked.
"I'm looking for a certain turian…" the batarian began, ignoring the first question, before he was interrupted by the krogan.
"Do you have any idea how many turians have passed through here? You're going to have to be very specific if you want information," the krogan chuckled.
"This turian was very special indeed. He was…" the batarian said quietly, his lips curling into a smile, "…barefaced." The krogan frowned.
"There was one, not long ago. But he said little, and bought even less," the krogan replied.
"Well, you would be doing me a great service if you told me what he bought."
"A service begs a fee, wouldn't you say?" The batarian sighed.
"How much do you want?"
"Ten thousand credits," the krogan said with absolute finality. The batarian sneered resentfully at the krogan for a second, before nodding.
"This had better be worth it."
"Oh, believe me, this is definitely worth the money."
Karishnasia had been lucky. When she had first seen the batarian in the crowd, it had taken all her willpower not to turn around. The thought had crossed her mind briefly, but ultimately, she dismissed it, deciding that it would seem too suspicious. He would surely recognize her if she began to run. Even in the massive crowd, a single dashing figure would stand out quite a bit. It would be easier to simply pass him by, acting as if nothing was wrong. Evading a cluster of elcor, she soon began to doubt her decision. He was coming right at her.
Instead of trying to get out of the way, however, she sped up, and shouldered the batarian, who had obviously not been paying attention. She cursed at him quickly, not turning for fear that he might recognize her, and continued on. As he passed on without confronting her, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She quickened her pace, however. He would reach the shop very soon, and though she had paid the krogan to misinform the batarian, she was unsure if he could be trusted.
As she reached the docking bay, she found a barefaced turian glaring at her sternly. "He accepted the money?" the turian inquired without a word of greeting. Karishnasia nodded.
"I am not a sure that he will do as I asked, however. I do not trust him. But, we have done all we can about the matter," she replied hastily. The turian did not reply, but simply turned and began stalking toward the ship. Karishnasia followed silently.
The two strode up beside a small vessel, the name, "Despera", printed in faded black paint on its side, only just standing out against the grey of the ship's hull. Two shadows stood in the doorway, one of them, a larger shadow, paced anxiously. As Karishnasia and the turian approached, the larger shadow ceased it's pacing, and began charging at the turian. He slid one foot back slightly, bracing for the impact, the shadow taking the form of a krogan in the pale light. The turian had attempted to stop such a charge before, and the results had been less than pleasant.
"Volnassus! You made it," the krogan cried as he wrapped his arms around the turian, and throwing his full weight into the embrace. Usually this would be enough to knock Volnassus off his feet, but this time he had been ready for it. It would have taken precious minutes to get the krogan off him had he allowed himself to fall. He shoved the krogan away angrily.
"Rask! This is not the time or place for affection," Volnassus grunted, moving swiftly away. Karishnasia giggled.
"Oh come now, he's just glad to see you is all," Karishnasia said mockingly. The second figure stepped out of the shadow of the doorway.
"Well I'm sure he can be just as happy inside, Karishnasia, and the less time we waste on greetings, the better. Now get in the ship," the newcomer snapped. It was an asari, only slightly shorter than Karishnasia herself, with teal skin, and a frown painted permanently on her face. Or at least, that was how it seemed to Karishnasia.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going Shazlin. You don't have to be so mean all the time," Karishnasia sighed, entering the ship quickly. Although she preferred not to show it, she was quite afraid of the asari. Volnassus and Rask followed quickly, with Shazlin closing the door as she entered last.
"Volnassus," Rask whined, his arms once again wrapped around the turian, "Shaz was going to leave without you." Then he whipped around and glared viciously at the asari, "She should die!" he screamed. Then his glare became a wounded look as his attention turned back to Volnassus, and he finished, "She's so mean." Volnassus just shook his head.
"That's what I told her to do, Rask, and had you been paying attention, you would have known that you two waited well past the time I specified. You could have endangered yourselves and us by staying. When I tell you to do something," he finished, shrugging the krogan's arms off him, "You do it. Understood?" Rask nodded, then walked away, somewhat hurt. "Now, Karishnasia, would you please get us off this planet?" he pleaded angrily.
"If I said no," Karishnasia began, but was cut off by Rask drawing a pistol and aiming at her head.
"Then you would be dead," he said with a menacing stare. She raised her hands, and lowered herself into her seat.
"I was kidding Rask. Put the gun down," she sighed, and turned toward the panel at the front of the ship. "Of all the escaping prisoners, I get stuck with the serious squad…" she grumbled, and started up the ship. Volnassus approached her, and handed her a withered piece of material.
"Here is the map I bought. I trust you will get us there as fast as possible, and with as few stops along the way," he said, and walked away before she could reply. She sighed and looked at the primitive markings.
"But this is," she began again, and turned to argue with Volnassus, but Rask still had his pistol aimed at her head, and as she turned, his eyes narrowed.
"Drive," he hissed darkly, and she turned and navigated the ship out of the port. It was only when she heard Rask stalk away that she released the breath she had been holding. A schizophrenic krogan was a dangerous companion indeed.