The Citadel, Zakera Ward, Arms of Caelax.

Cadrian Rallius began his day at the same hour as always, all the way back to his military academy days on Palaven. Ten minutes in his bathroom no larger than a ventilation shaft, then dressed in another five and ready to relieve the human he hired to watch the restaurant during the few hours he slept. This had been his routine for nearly five years now, since he had shut down Arms of Caelax: the private security firm and opened Arms of Caelax: the dingy restaurant in a dingy corner of the Citadel.

He'd always enjoyed cooking, and he really did find some satisfaction running the restaurant – although in recent years he still found himself selling guns and muscle, for old time's sake. It hardly endeared him to C-Sec, but he had stopped caring years ago and quite frankly, they had bigger problems.

Rallius exited his tiny apartment into a narrow hallway that ran up to the kitchen. This room used to be his office but when that monster of an alien ship, Sovereign, broke apart and smashed into the Citadel two years ago it took out huge sections of the Wards, his apartment included. So now he lived off a cot shoved in between his desk and the wall. He had a few boxes of personal belongings but Rallius was never a very sentimental man, and he kept little. And with that tiny bathroom… well, he simply made do.

He never said living there was pleasant, exactly.

Barely four steps and he was in the kitchen. Rallius paused to observe his first shift cooks, already hard at work for four hours. He had seen them when they came in, before he retired to his apartment, and he always checked on them before going out front to tend the bar.

With a nod from Aternus and a wave from Dylan, he pushed his way through the swinging door and out on to the main floor. This was the busiest shift. Even though there was only simulated night and day on the Presidium, business still worked in cycles in the Wards. Arms of Caelax was currently filled – nearly past capacity – with humans and turians and even few quarians. On the second shift he saw significantly more batarians and the occasional volus. It had only taken Rallius a few months to adjust to the flow of business here. Perhaps his change in career was meant to be.

He preferred the consistency. It made things simpler, always knowing what to expect next, and when. Although the Sovereign attack had really shaken things, the patterns were finally starting to even out and he was getting comfortable.

It certainly made sense that she would show up just as things were growing normal once again.

Rallius spotted her the moment she walked in. Quarians were far from uncommon here and over the past five years he often wondered if it were she hiding behind one of those masks, but when he saw her again he realized he could have easily recognized her from a mile away. It wasn't her suit. No, that had changed. There was a different pistol on her belt. It was something about how she carried herself – broad and powerful like the soldier she was, and with that unmistakable swing to her hips that first drew his attention all those years ago when he stood behind another, filthier bar in another, filthier part of space. She had always left a strong impression, but Rallius knew just how quickly she could fold up and disappear into the darkness.

He knew it all too well.

He hoped he was wrong when she sat down in front of him, "Rallus," she practically purred, "It's been too long."

Rallius leveled a hard stare at the quarian in front of him and went right back to his datapad.

"Or maybe not long enough," he heard her say. There was a touch of dejection in her voice, although she attempted to mask it with laughter. She had not changed much. And she still couldn't pronounce his name correctly.

"Never long enough," he said shortly.

She was silent a moment. "Rallus, I have a business proposition for you."

"I don't make a habit of doing business with liars, traitors, or thieves," he slid the datapad into a small shelf below the bar register. "Or all three at once."

"Rallus–,"

"Rallius."

"Rallus."

He sighed, "What do you want, Talos?"

Officer Dara watched the ex-mercenary Rallius and that quarian disappear into the kitchen. The plate of food in front of her remained mostly untouched although she'd ordered it nearly a half hour ago. She was taking her time. She planned on being here for a while.