April 19th 2184 CE 19:00

Despite some initial tension between Butler and Krul, his team was coming along nicely. Every morning at 06:30 they ran drills, target practice, and hand to hand techniques. Butler's aim had drastically improved but his physical endurance was continuing to lag. For now, Garrus had him in the back ranks. If he could get his talons on a few Alliance Standard Genetic Enhancements, Frank's sniper skills would drastically improve. Yet, he hadn't been on Omega long enough to have contacts who dealt in black market goods. For now, Butler's aim was decent enough for their various shenanigans. But he didn't like their chances against a casino full of blood thirsty red sand dealers, even if the element of surprise was on their side. Garrus sighed and closed the terminal he'd been using to research Thralog Mirki'it. Krul was an ass 99% the time but he was an honest one. Thralog operated out of a casino in The Kima district, and was directly responsible for the deaths and enslavement of dozens of unsuspecting youths on Omega. He deliberately hooked people on his poison by offering free samples of what he claimed was a benign party drug, 'no more harmful than alcohol with none of the calories.' Those who survived long enough to bankrupt themselves were quickly sold into slavery. One day soon, when his mission in Shepard's honor was finished and he had enough men at his back, Thralog would pay for every family he destroyed.

Garrus meandered into the living area and settled into their new sofa while Butler and Krul argued over which channel they'd watch. He switched on his omni-tool and immediately checked his inbox. No replies. Damn. Maybe he should try Joker. The pilot clearly hadn't cared for him much but at the very least he should check in.

To: Jmoreau_at_ AllianceMailNetwork . org

From: Garrus_VK2180 _at_citadelmail .com
4-19-84 19:12

Hey Joker,

What's up? Still with The Alliance? I'm in the Terminus Systems now. I tried contacting the rest of the team, but no one responded. Have you heard anything?

Garrus.

"I just said channel twelve you four eyed twat." Butler roared.

"And when you can beat me on the range, I'll change it. Until then, I'm watching The Ragers vs The Bruisers."

"No one wants to see a bunch of batarians beat each other with sticks. Gimme that remote!"

"I believe you agreed to that wager Frank." Garrus barely stifled a chuckle.

"Don't remind me."

His omni-tool pinged.

From: YourBigDaddi24_at_citadelmail .com
To: Garrus_VK2180_at_citadelmail .com

I don't use that email anymore. Meet me on messenger. I'm FuzzyBunny96.

Joker

Even if this wasn't who he was looking forward to hearing from, Garrus's heart leaped in anticipation. It'd be great to hear how anyone from the team was doing. He quickly logged on.

GV: Joker?

FB96: What? Expecting Sovereign Garrus?

GV: You secure? Talking about mission parameters on an unsecured channel is against regulations.

FB96: Fuck your regulations. No one will listen anyway.

GV: I take it you know about the council's betrayal.

FB96: I'm not surprised.

GV: What are you up to?

FB96: Getting drunk off my A$$

GV: What's the occasion? By the way, have you heard from the rest of the team?

FB96: Not one. And there is no occasion. Let's just say I've been doing a lot of drinking lately.

GV: What do you mean?

FB96: The Alliance Assholes grounded me. No one will give the cripple a chance to fly. Now I'm back on Tiptree with my thumb up my ass

GV: Yikes. That's rough. You were discharged? Why not try civilian flying?

FB96: Oh yeahhhhhhhh lemme just start shuttling jackasses from point A to B. I'd rather drive a fucking school bus. But I wasn't discharged. They tried putting me behind a desk. I left those assholes on my own accord.

GV: What's a school bus? That didn't translate right.

FB96: Try the extranet. And update your damn translator.

GV: Such a charmer.

FB96: Yeah whatever. Hey, let me know if you hear from anyone on the team.

GV: Will do. But I'm in the dark, same as you.

FB96: By the way, what are you doing in The Terminus Systems? Weren't you supposed to be a spectre by now?

GV: Kicking ass and taking names. I'm done with council after what they pulled.

FB96: Can't say I blame you. Well, I have to run before my sister completely wrecks my flight sim.

GV: See ya

Garrus switched the chat off and pulled up his traffic monitor. For the past week, he'd been closely watching ship traffic in and out of the Omega Nebula. There was an abundance of slaver ships that docked to refuel, repair, and grab a few unsuspecting victims. The most difficult part of this mission was refraining from obliterating the assholes. But he didn't want to do anything that could jeopardize his goal. Any scouting vessel worth their salt would steer clear of the station if it was no longer a safe haven for slavers and their ilk. Ironically, the one 'good' thing about Omega was the sheer magnitude of slavers who did business on the station. There was certainly no shortage. And today may just be his lucky day.

"Krul?"

"Yeah?"

"Look here. There's a small vessel, the Yu'Char, scheduled for retrofits in three days. They're docking by the eezo mines. This the ship class we're looking for?"

"Yeah. That'll do. But how are you going to get on? I'd be recognized in a heartbeat."

He wiggled his mandibles in a sly smile. "I have a few ideas."