Thankfully, Salina had already packed most of her belongings. It helped that she had been expecting the message from the captain, as did having few possessions to begin with. Only an hour after accepting her new position, Angel was assigned housing in a recently repaired section of Tayseri Ward. Not all of the operatives were housed there, but the ones who were already on or near the Citadel had been given housing in the same building, so that groups could be shipped out quickly and efficiently. Thankfully, the building had not been badly damaged in the attempted Cerberus coup. If Angel had to guess, it was because it was located near some of the areas still without power or services, so why destroy an area that was already wrecked?

From what Captain Renault had told her, the building had been built to look similar to a hotel or dormitory, but with the express purpose of housing combat troops. Each person had what could be called a studio apartment, but frankly it was more the size of a spacious college dorm room with a kitchenette and, thankfully, a private bath attached. There were workout and training facilities, as well as a well-stocked armory and firing range, where you could try out all the gear before you went on missions. What delighted Angel the most was that she would have access to actual N7 weaponry. There was one particular weapon she had in mind, and if she could get her hands on it, she would be one happy camper.

Upon entering the building, Angel noticed that it looked very much like a hotel lobby. There was even a desk manned by a young female Alliance officer. I guess if they're holding onto the N7 in the title, they want to be staffed with some Alliance soldiers. Duffle still slung over her back, Angel sauntered up to the desk. "Lieutenant Salina Velasquez reporting for duty."

"Ah, Lieutenant. We have been expecting you." While the young woman's mouse-brown hair had been wound into a tight bun, giving her a severe look, she gave Salina a warm, genuine smile before typing away at the terminal.

"Please, call me Angel."

The young desk clerk's eyes stayed focused on her console screen. "Very well, Angel. You will find that here in Special Ops, we operate a bit more loosely than in the Alliance. However, when it comes to scheduling, we run as tight a ship. We may only get minimal notice before we find that a location is under attack. Therefore, each person has an on-call schedule. For a period of forty galactic standard hours at a time, you must be ready to exit the building for assignment within twenty minutes." She paused for just a moment to look up at Angel. "You will get called up during your on-call period, it's just a matter of when, so be prepared." Her eyes went back to her screen as she continued whatever she was doing. "What you do while you're waiting to be called up is your choice, as long as you are ready, and sober, on time. We do have some facilities for you to use. There's a mess that is always open, a gym, an armory, a gun range, and a library. Once you return from your mission, you will have one full day to rest. However, if things become overwhelming in the field, you may be called up sooner." Once more the young woman stopped typing to look up at Angel. "Any questions so far?"

"Nope, I'm good. Two days on, one day off, subject to change at any moment. Got it." Even with the two-day shifts, this was going to be easy for Angel. In her initial training at the N-school, there had been times when she had been up and active for more than twenty Earth hours at a time. Having a full day of rest, plus the time traveling back in the shuttle, almost sounded like heaven.

"Very good. Now, we already have your biometrics on file, courtesy of the Alliance, so you will be able to access all of the common areas and your new room, number ten-thirteen."

"Ooh, thirteen! My lucky number." That got a small smile out of the desk clerk. The old superstition among humans about the number thirteen being unlucky was still present, though mostly in the colonies. Angel, on the other hand, believed that the number thirteen held some amount of good luck for her. As someone whose job essentially included doing what she was told without dying, she would take any good luck she could.

"All right, your shift starts in six hours. Make sure you stop by the armory to set up your preferred weaponry. That way, it will be waiting for you when you're called. Also, while you are there, make sure you get fitted for a new hard suit."

"I get a new hard suit?!" Salina had been doing the best she could with the one she had, but the supply chains were pretty wrecked, and her past several missions had been extremely rough on her equipment.

"Yes, a custom one. You even get to pick out the color, lights, and pattern for it from what we have available. They do take anywhere from two to four hours to complete, though, so I recommend that the armory be one of your first stops." The desk clerk tapped a couple more keys. "Okay, you are all checked in and on the roster. You'll find the elevator at the end of the hall to your left."

With a polite nod and a smile to the clerk, Angel jogged over to the elevator. First she needed to drop off her heavy duffle, then it was right to the armory. She was more excited about the custom hard suit than she should be but frankly, she didn't care. The suits she had worn before had been boring in appearance, made to blend in with her fellow marines. Not anymore! Angel already had an idea of what she was going to do with her design, and the thought made her even giddier.

The elevator up to her room was just as slow as every other elevator in existence. You would think that with all our superior technology, we could invent an elevator that's faster than walking. When she got to her floor, she quickly jogged to her room, opened the door, tossed her duffle inside without even setting a foot inside, closed it behind her, and jogged back to the elevator. With how slow the damn thing was, she didn't want to have to wait for it if she didn't have to. There would be time to unpack later, but now she needed to go pick out her armor and weaponry. Just the thought of her own custom armor and brand new weapons made Angel emit a girlish squeal. Though she was perfectly fine acting girly from time to time, she was thankful to be alone in the elevator where no one else could hear the embarrassing sound.

The gym and armory took up the entirety of the second floor; in fact, the elevator simply opened up onto the gym. Inside were more people than Angel had expected. Humans, asari, salarians, turians, even a handful of krogan and vorcha, were all making use of the various facilities and equipment. As much as she would have loved to join them and watch the plentiful eye candy, Angel scanned the room to find the entrance for the armory. She found it near the back left side of the main room and quickly made her way over. Working out would have to wait, and besides, her shift started in five and a half hours. She needed to get ready.

When Angel opened the door to the armory, two things instantly grabbed her attention. First was the enormous display of every type of gun she could think of, including some she had never seen before. The second was a lithe asari in purple and black armor, who was arguing with the older, grizzled looking man behind the counter.

"Yes, my paperwork is correct. That is not the problem. The problem is that you will not give me the proper weaponry to do my work. I can't believe I have to go through this every time I come down here."

Even though the man was holding up his hands in a placating gesture, his tone of voice was condescending. "Look lady, your class is listed on your paperwork, and that is what determines your access to weapons. If you have an issue with it, bring me a letter from your commanding officer, and we'll get it changed."

"First of all, asari are mono-gendered, so I'm not exactly a lady. Secondly, as I have told you several times before, I was a freelance merc before joining this organization. I did not have a commanding officer. Before each mission I have submitted a statement from the commando who recruited me for this outfit, stating my previous occupation and the weaponry I require. However, I cannot do so this time, as she is currently out on assignment and unreachable." The asari, obviously agitated but trying to keep a collected front, wiped one of her hands over her face, which Angel still could not see.

"I am sorry, miss, but unless I have that form, there is nothing I can do."

It was then that Angel noticed that the clerk was trying his best to conceal a smug grin. He was enjoying turning the asari away! That just pissed her off. In Angel's opinion, if you didn't like other people or other species, then fine, just keep it to yourself. The fact that he was actively denying this woman the tools she needed for combat and survival was just plain repulsive.

Stepping forward, Angel slapped her palms upon the counter, startling the other two people present. When the clerk turned to her, Angel fixed him with the most intimating and cold stare she could muster. "Is there a problem here?"

An audible gulp came from the clerk. He was only able to meet her gaze for a moment before focusing on her chin instead. "No problem here, ma'am."

"Well, it sure as hell sounded like there was a problem. Can you explain why you won't give this asari whatever weapons she needs?"

"It's because of how she's registered in the system. She's only allowed access to certain weaponry."

"Alright, that's bullshit and we both know it. The alliance lifted restrictions on who could carry certain types of weapons a while over a year ago. If you know how to use it, you can check it out." Angel could see beads of sweat beginning to form on the man's forehead. "From what I was told by my captain, the only restriction placed on us is that we are allowed a maximum of two weapons plus missile launchers on each mission. But then again, you knew that all along, didn't you?"

Angel watched as the man began to sweat in earnest now, at the realization that he had been caught. Leaning in, Alex stared directly into his eyes once more. "I will be reporting this to your superiors immediately. I have the feeling that once they begin digging a bit, they will see you've been pulling this shit with other non-humans as well. Leave. Now. Go get a replacement clerk, and if someone isn't back at this desk within the next half an hour, I will personally make things even more unpleasant for you."

The clerk bolted out of his chair, sending it clattering to the ground, before hurrying out the door and into the arriving elevator. Angel just shook her head at the fleeing man. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the asari also watching the man's retreat. It was the first time that Angel had been able to see her face. Her coloring was almost purple with white facial markings, which paired with the white accent striping on her uniform to make her look even more striking and lovely. This was the kind of asari who was just Angel's type: a strong, beautiful, confident warrior.

Before Angel could think of what to say, the asari turned to address her. "Thank you for your assistance. Was is true what you said, that we are allowed to carry whatever weapon we want without clearance?" Her tone was clear and to the point.

Caught a little off-guard by the asari's directness, it took Angel a moment to process. "Uh…yeah. Like I said, two weapons max, plus the missile launchers. Other than that, you have access to whatever weapon you need if they have it in stock, or you have to supply it yourself."

"Goddess, I feel like such a naïve maiden for not having seen through that man sooner. I guess that, working alone for almost two centuries, one can forget how to see such trickery up close." The asari ran a gloved hand over her crests in exasperation. "It looks like I will have to return in half an hour for my weaponry, then."

As the asari turned to leave without another word, Angel called out to her. "Hey, wait a second."

The asari stopped where she stood in the doorway, then turned back to face Angel. "Yes?"

"It's my first day here and I needed to get a new hard suit before my shift starts. That guy I just sent running out of here, was he the one in charge of that?" Just keep her talking, Angel, then you can work your charms on her.

"No, there is a machine that constructs the suits for us. You will find it behind a door off to your right. You will need to strip, then it will do a full scan in order to take your resting vitals and measurements. After that, you will get a chance to customize it. Once it is done, you will receive a message via your omni-tool that it is ready to be picked up. Even for the most complicated suits, it rarely takes longer than four hours."

This time, like before, Angel couldn't even get a word in before the asari turned on her heel and left. "Huh..." Angel stood there for a moment and just rubbed the back of her neck in confusion. That asari didn't act like most of the other asari she had met. She was sure that some of the higher-class ones must be quiet and reserved, but she was used to dealing with commandos, huntresses, and party girls. Shaking her head to clear her mind, Angel remembered what had brought her to the armory in the first place. A childlike grin spread across her face as she rushed toward the door, where the mystery asari – Angel really wished she had gotten her name – had told her she could find the machine to create her hard suit. It was built into its own room and, as promised, she was instructed to remove her outer clothing for a scan. The whole process took roughly twenty five minutes from start to finish, with the machine asking her first to hold still, then to perform various tasks in order to get base readings. Once she was dressed again, Angel practically skipped into the last room, where she could design the armor. Even knowing exactly what she wanted, it still took her almost ten minutes to get it just right. Now, all she had to do was wait. When she exited the room, she noticed that a new clerk was behind the weapons counter. Apparently, the first clerk had been able to get a replacement faster than anticipated. Quickly, she made her way back to the counter, almost as excited about her weapon selection as she had been about her armor.

This clerk was a young turian male, possibly from C-Sec. His bright red clan markings were amazing, and his voice was just as dreamy as most turian males' when he spoke, "Good afternoon. How can I be of assistance?"

It took all of Angel's self-control, of which she had very little to start with, to remain professional. "Yes, my name is Salina Velasquez. I'm here to submit a weapons request for my upcoming shift."

The turian typed her name swiftly into his haptic interface and pulled up her file. "Of course, Lieutenant. Should I show you our list of shotguns, or did you have something already in mind?"

"No shotguns, thank you, just an Eagle pistol if you still have any."

"I will just check our inventory list. One moment, please." As the turian began to type away once more, Angel did her best not to bounce in place. She had always wanted to use an Eagle. Sure, they had a bit of a kick to them, but they were fully automatic with a decent punch for a pistol and good accuracy. Ever since she had started her N training and seen some of the N7s use them, she had wanted one.

"Good news, Lieutenant. We have one left."

"Yes!" Angel couldn't help but clap her hands once in front of her.

This caused the turian clerk's mandibles to twitch in amusement. "Now, on to mods…"

After a couple minutes of discussion, Angel decided on the magazine upgrade and power magnifier. She also got a recommendation to try one of the Collector SMGs they occasionally got in, for next time. Afterward, she bid farewell to the clerk and tried to run through a mental checklist of what she had to do before her shift started in a little more than four hours. While she didn't think she would be called up right away, she still wanted to be prepared. At this point, Angel knew that she desperately needed three things: food, a shower, and sleep. After her night out dancing, she hadn't gotten very much sleep, and she didn't know when she would be able to rest again, let alone get decent food. So, over the next three hours, that was what she did. She scarfed down a decent meal at the mess hall, followed by a shower and nap back in her Spartan but comfortable room.

The buzzing of her omni-tool woke Angel from her nap. It wasn't the alarm that she had set to wake her when her shift started, but was a message notification instead. The message read that her new hard suit was ready for a final fitting and pick-up. Angel was dressed and out of her room so quickly that, had it been a cartoon, she would have left a trail of fire in her wake.