A/N: Another month, another chapter. I'm hoping things will start picking up from here.
Holy Mary, Mother of God this place reeks to high heaven, I think as I step off the boarding ramp of the transport and onto the dock of Omega. Looking around at the rusted, decaying hulk around me, I adjust the short leather jacket I'm wearing to help conceal the knife at the small of my back; my P30 is concealed in an inside-the-waistband holster at eleven o'clock in front of my left hip underneath a slate grey long-sleeved shirt with my back-up gun at home on my ankle. My usual black boots and cargo pants complete my outfit. Making sure to stay on high alert to avoid being ambushed, I head from the docks towards the club Afterlife.
About fifteen minutes later, I'm standing in front of Afterlife: a large, cone-shaped tower trimmed in orange neon with flames and a large holographic sign with the club's name over the entrance. Must be a popular spot, I think as I notice the long line of people from nearly every species waiting for entrance, held back by an elcor bouncer. He looks like he could do some serious damage, I think, looking at the size of the alien. Although he walks around on all fours, he's at least a foot taller at the shoulder than I am and is moving in a manner that suggests he more than knows how to handle himself in a fight.
Just as I add him to my "don't fuck with" list, a trio of four-eyed batarians show up, their body language suggesting they're looking for trouble. "This should be good," a large, armored, and battle-scarred krogan near me says with a snicker.
"Twenty creds says that elcor kicks their asses," I comment.
"Sucker's bet, unless you want to make the bet on how long it takes," he counters, turning towards me.
"Forty seconds," I answer, looking the large, lizard-like alien in the eyes.
"I've seen that elcor fight. I give it thirty before they quit and run like a scalded varren," he says, with a smirk.
"You've got a bet," I say, bringing up my omni-tool and getting a stopwatch ready just as the batarians pick their fight with the elcor. This far away from the entrance, I can't hear the verbal exchange, but it's not long before the conversation gets animated and the batarians draw knives they'd had concealed. Starting the timer with their first attack, I watch the fight unfold.
The first batarian darts in and swings wildly with his knife; a wicked-looking sinuous blade. His attack fails miserably as the elcor catches his forearm mid-swipe and literally rips it off at the elbow. As the now-crippled batarian falls away, screaming and holding the ragged stump of what remains of his arm, his buddies rush in. They don't last long either as the bouncer caves in the skull of one with a single blow and the other is flung against a bulkhead, his neck snapping from the impact and his lifeless corpse crumples limply to the deck.
Checking my omni-tool, I see the whole thing took about twenty-seven seconds. "Hah! Pay up, human," the krogan says, reading my omni-tool's display.
Sighing, I reach into my pocket and pull out twenty credits, handing them over. "Well at least it was entertaining for a moment."
"Shame it wasn't more of a fight. It would have livened things up a bit if it had spilled over," he says with a shrug.
The fight turns out to be less than the highlight of the wait since we watched as a couple packs of ugly, needle-toothed aliens known as vorcha get into a brawl. This fight is far more interesting, especially since one of the feral creatures bumps into me mid-fight and rounds on me with a snarl. Deciding not to give it a chance to attack me, I fire a right roundhouse shin kick into its knee, causing its leg to collapse. Immediately, I follow up with a right cross that sends a couple of the vorcha's teeth flying and it falls to the deck.
So much for that, I think, turning to get back into line. Suddenly, I cry out in pain as I feel claws ripping through my leather coat and raking across my back. Whirling around, I take a step back and get my guard up.
"You thought you beat me," the vorcha snarls, it's voice high-pitched and gravelly. "You were wrong!" Letting out an inarticulate screech, it takes a swipe at my throat.
Reacting immediately, I step outside of the arc of its swing, grab onto its wrist to straighten its arm, and fire a rising elbow strike with my other arm. My blow connects with the vorcha's elbow, destroying the joint with a wet snap-pop. As it howls in pain, I shift my grip to the back of its head and drive my knee into its ribs, doubling it over as the bones snap from the impact. I finish my combination with a forearm smash across its spine, dropping all of my weight behind the blow and feeling its spinal column give way as it drops to the deck again.
"Bastard," I mutter, knowing I'm going to have to get treated for the wound on my back before it becomes infected. Before I can turn back to the line, the vorcha starts getting back to its feet, even USING the arm I'd essentially destroyed. "WHAT THE FUCK?" I shout in disbelief. I fucking snapped that thing's SPINE! It should be fucking paralyzed!
My shock costs me the advantage and I barely manage lurch away the vorcha's renewed attack and its claws rake my face from my left ear across my cheek to my mouth and chin. Still behind the curve, I barely manage to get my arm up to take another swipe that would have torn my throat open if it had connected. Acting on sheer desperation, I plant my left heel in the hollow of its hip to push it away and buy me time to regroup.
The next time it attacks, I'm ready, answering its charge with a quick kick to the face. The blow doesn't do more than surprise it, but that's all I need. While the vorcha is off guard, I follow up with a left hook that whips its head around and it falls to its knees. As it uses a waist-high railing to pull itself back to its feet, I spot my opportunity to end this fight permanently. Letting out a feral snarl of my own, I bring my right knee up to my chest and fire a piston-like heel push kick into the vorcha's chest that sends it cartwheeling over the railing and screaming to its death.
Still amped up from the adrenaline running through me, I work on calming down and take stock of my injuries. Looking at my right arm, I can see the sleeve of my coat is shredded and the outside of my forearm has been laid open from my elbow to halfway to my wrist. Doesn't look like anything vital was hit, I think, seeing that I'm bleeding, but not too freely. Using my fingers, I trace the claw marks on my face, hissing in pain, but feeling that the cuts are pretty much superficial. The bad one is the wound on my back; every movement I make is agony and I'm breathing heavily from the pain.
"That wasn't too bad," someone says from behind me, a turian judging from the sound of his voice. "Especially for a human."
"Yeah, well I'd hope after that little spat thirty years ago, people would stop underestimating us," I answer, turning to face him, noting he's the first turian I've seen without facial markings.
"Hey, I meant no offense. Just saying it's not every day a human takes on a vorcha without some kind of weapon," he says, his voice a bit smoother than other turians I've spoken to. "By the way, thanks for killing it. Makes my job easier."
"Really?" I ask, my voice a bit tight with pain as the adrenaline starts to fade.
"Yeah. Damn vorcha multiply faster than I can kill them and they keep trying to get into the club," he answers, gesturing toward Afterlife.
"At least you know you won't be out of a job any time soon," I answer, my voice tightening a bit as the adrenaline fades and the pain starts to get worse.
"Got that right," he says. Then he puts his hand to the headset he's wearing. "Yeah? Alright, boss." Turning to the bouncer at the door he shouts "Hey! Let this guy in."
"With restrained curiosity: Alright," the elcor rumbles back.
"Please tell me I'm not on your boss's shit-list," I half whine, trying to cover my nervousness with a bit of humor. "I've got enough people who want me dead."
"Relax," he answers. "She just wants to talk with you."
"Fair enough. I didn't catch your name," I reply, still wary of what may happen, though if his boss wanted me dead, she'd have him shoot me in the face here and now.
"Captain Gavorn," he says. "Better get moving. Aria doesn't like waiting."
"No problem," I say, walking past the elcor bouncer and into the club. Immediately I'm reminded of Chora's Den on a larger scale. Looking around for a moment, I let my eyes adjust to the lighting and I spot a darkened area in the back of the club overlooking the floor. That's where she is, I think, knowing from past experience that crime bosses are a paranoid bunch, the longer they're alive the more paranoid they get.
Deciding to get cleaned up a bit, I go to the bar and order a bottle of brandy and a few towel. Going into the restroom with the booze and the towels, I start cleaning my wounds. Dammit, this shit burns, I think, pouring the alcohol over the cuts on my arm first. Making a makeshift bandage from one of the towels, I tie it tightly over the wound to stop the bleeding. Knowing there's not much I can do on my own for my face or back, I settle for soaking a towel with the booze and cleaning the cuts on my face and back until I can get proper medical attention. Keeping the jacket on despite it being ruined, I go back out onto the floor.
Nice operation she's got going here. Plenty of legit income on top of whatever else she has running, I think, looking around to find exotic dancers; mostly asari with a few humans here and there. I also spot an open dance floor occupied by members of just about every major species, several bars that are busy as hell… except for one. This last bar has a crowd around it just like the others, but the difference is most of the people are scanning the crowd around them instead of drinking.
Must be some bigwig, I think making my way over to the bar, grabbing a stool, and ordering a stiff shot of brandy. Knocking it back as soon as it arrives, I order another, this time sipping it as I think about my next move.
"Hey," one of the bodyguards, a batarian armed with an assault rifle says sharply. "Move it."
"Excuse me?" I ask, looking at him sideways, still sipping at my drink.
"You heard me. Move it!" he counters, hefting his rifle.
"Look, pal. I've had a pretty shitty day so I'm going to cut the bullshit. I'm here on business and I'm not bothering anyone by sitting here and having a drink. Now you can either back the hell off, or I can take that rifle from you and beat you to death with it."
Before he can answer, I hear harsh-sounding feminine laughter coming from the middle of the crowd. "Oh, I'm sure I could get half the station to pay to watch that. But please don't kill my bodyguard. Loyal men are a pain to come by."
"I'll keep that in mind," I answer.
"It's alright boys," the voice says to the guards and they part, showing a purple-skinned asari dressed in a black jumpsuit with a short white jacket. She isn't classically beautiful, but she's striking, her facial features augmented by tattoos that run from her head fringes, down her jaw, and over her brow. A second tattoo runs from her lower lip down her chin.
"Aria T'Loak? I'm-"
"I know who you are," she says, cutting me off. "I must say it's not often I hear about someone who manages to piss the Suns off to the point where they put a bounty on his head."
"Yeah, I can be a popular guy at times," I answer, knocking back the remainder of my shot and ordering another. "That's not why I'm here, though."
"I figured as much. It takes a special kind of fool to take on an organization who wants them dead," she says, sipping at her drink. "Judging from the way you handled that vorcha, you're courageous, ballsy even. But you're no fool. So… why are you here?"
"I'm tracking a bounty head. A salarian by the name of Onak. Arrived here about a week ago from the Citadel and joined up with Eclipse," I say, getting to business.
"And you think I might know where you can find him?" she asks, sounding amused and watching me closely.
"The thought crossed my mind," I reply, looking her in the eye. "But I'm mostly here to show respect. I've got enough people who want me dead without having to deal with you hunting me down."
"How thoughtful of you," she says somewhat sarcastically. "Since you helped Gavorn out, I'll tell you where Eclipse operates. As for where your salarian is, you'll have to find that out on your own."
"Fair enough," I answer.
"They run their smuggling business out of the docks on the other side of the station," she says, shifting a bit closer. "They're not as disciplined as the Suns, but they're still deadly. Most of them are asari and salarians with plenty of humans in the mix. Obviously, I'd recommend going in with back-up, but you should be able to get in if you're clever enough."
"That's always the easy part. Hard part will be getting out with my bounty in tow and not getting killed in the process," I comment, knocking back my shot and declining another, having had enough booze for one night. Standing up from my stool, I grimace in pain and lean against the bar to keep on my feet.
"You look like hell," she says, watching me closely, as if considering what she's going to do next. Then she motions to one of her men, a turian with red facial markings who grabs me by the arm to steady me. "Come on. I'll have my doctor look at you," she continues, getting up.
"Not that I'm ungrateful," I manage to say, my teeth gritted from the pain. "But what's the catch?"
"No catch. Consider this a favor. One that I may call in sometime," she answers, her expression completely devious. "It's up to you. You can decline, but how will you get your job done while you're flat on your back?"
Dammit, I don't want to owe a crime boss a favor, I think, knowing this is a slippery slope. If I accept this favor, she'll have a leash on me. But what choice do I have? Sighing inwardly, I say "Alright."
"Smart answer," she says, leading our group to a private room. "Wait here," she says, leaving me with some of her guards.
"Just be glad Aria wants you alive, human," the batarian who'd tried to menace me earlier growls when the door closes. "You're all worthless scum."
"So what does that make you, batarian? Last I heard, your kind keeps getting your collective asses handed to you on a silver platter by us," I retort, taunting him. "Guess that means you're lower than worthless scum."
"If you weren't under Aria's protection-"
"You still wouldn't do anything. Shit, you don't have the balls to do anything now," I counter, calling his bluff.
"He's got you pegged, Gorak," the turian who'd aided me earlier says with a snicker.
"Shut UP, Lilihim!" the batarian shouts, acting like more like a street punk than a bodyguard.
Before the situation gets too far out of control, Aria returns, an older-looking asari dressed in a well-worn utility jumpsuit in tow. "Getting along with my men, I see," she says, her expression saying plainly she heard the whole conversation.
She probably has bugs everywhere. Can't say I'm surprised, I think as the doctor opens her medical kit and sits across from me.
"Take your jacket and shirt off," she says in a clipped tone.
"Yes, ma'am," I say, shrugging out of my ruined jacket and pulling my torn shirt over my head, revealing my P30 and knife.
"I was starting to wonder if you were armed," Aria commented, seeing my weapons. "Of course one wonders why you didn't just shoot that vorcha."
"Couple of reasons why," I answer, removing the makeshift bandage from my arm. "Main reason is as close as that vorcha was, the gun would have been a liability."
"On the table," the doctor says in the same clipped tone, clearly sounding like she isn't happy with this.
Getting up on the table, I see Aria looking at me closely, as if reassessing her opinion of me. Hissing slightly in pain as the doc applies disinfectant and medi-gel to my wounds, I start thinking of how I'm going to go about my job. Like I said; easy part's getting in. I'll have to scope it out before I do anything, though.
"Done," the doctor says simply, getting up and leaving without another word.
"Not exactly chatty, is she?" I say, putting my shirt and jacket back on and standing up.
"Maybe, but she's good at what she does," Aria says. "Do yourself a favor: let me know when you make your move. It would be unfortunate if we had a misunderstanding."
"Of course," I say giving her a slight bow as I take my leave. Heading back to the ship, I keep an eye out for possible tails, not spotting anyone as I board the ship and head to my cabin. Bringing up the extranet on my omni-tool, I pull up a layout of Omega and start coming up with a plan. This is going to be fun, I think, knowing this will be the biggest challenge I've ever taken on. Making some notes, I log off and go to my bunk for a couple hour's rack time.