This seems a little high profile for keeping things under the radar. Rigel thought to his companion, his mental communication dripping with skepticism. The trip to Omega had been entirely uneventful. The stealing of the ship went about as smoothly as possible and Nova hacked the docking bay to let them through with no questions asked. Now all that was left was to meet with a Nova's buyer in a nightclub of all places.
Relax. Just don't piss off the asari and we'll be fine.
The asari that apparently have weird, science-based space magic.
Yours is better.
Of course mine is better. That doesn't mean I don't want to figure out new space magic. I'm a warlock for Toland's sake.
You know using his name in place of God isn't going to get him to take Oryx's seat, right?
It was either him, Eris, or me that needed to do it. Considering Eris is doing Eris things and I'm no longer in the running, all hail Toland, Lord of the Taken.
Sometimes I wonder why I brought you back.
No you don't. You love me.
"State your business." a heavily armed and armored krogan guarding the entrance to the Afterlife club said with narrowed eyes. Apparently, the krogan was trying to be intimidating.
Nova had briefed Rigel on the various races populating this new Milky Way on the flight over. Krogans reminded Rigel of Hive knights. Big, tanky, able to enrage themselves and regenerate crazy damage at the drop of a hat.
It felt strange to Rigel that he hadn't been shot at yet. Neutral and friendly aliens were still a new concept. If it weren't for Crow introducing him to some eliksni he'd befriended while under Spider's thumb, Rigel would probably still be of a 'shoot first ask questions never' mentality. Misraaks and Caiatl had definitely helped.
"I'm entering that club behind you." Rigel said to the krogan, motioning towards the door to the club.
The krogan leered down at him, pulling his lips back to bear his teeth. "No. I don't think you are, meat. Why don't you go home before I start to get angry."
"Counter offer: You let me in like a good errand boy, or I throw you over that balcony there and go in anyway." Rigel said, sticking his thumb to the side to indicate the balcony in question.
The krogan exhaled long and slow. "Now I'm gonna deal with you, punk." He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the grip of a shotgun. Before he could bring the shotgun to bear he found himself blasted violently to the side.
Rigel watched in idle curiosity as the massive alien plummeted downwards, the repulsive blast he'd sent into the krogan with his outstretched hand fading into nothing.
Impressive flailing for a species with such proportionately small limbs. Nova commented, amusement wafting through their connection into Rigel.
I gave him a chance. I've been doing better about that ever since Crow and I had that talk. It's not my fault he didn't take it. Rigel sent back as he strode through the entrance to the Afterlife, completely ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the many spectators who'd witnessed the event.
Strolling down the long hallway to the second door, Rigel stepped into the club, loud techno music beating at the air around him. There were humans, turians and salarians drinking together at the bar, asari dancing naked on tables and two krogan literally smashing their heads together on the dance floor. This universe was certainly lively if nothing else.
Who am I looking for again? Rigel thought.
Red Salarian with white facial markings. His name is Jaroth. He runs the local chapter of a galactic mercenary company.
He sounds delightful. Let's get our money and get off this rock.
While Nova could have just hacked a bank and taken credits through the Extranet, apparently there were failsafes in place to stop an enterprising individual from doing exactly that. When Rigel had asked, Nova used more terms the Risen didn't understand, prompting him to drop the issue.
Keeping his eyes peeled for his contact, Rigel made his way through the club. Sliding past drunk dancers and dodging away from anyone who seemed overly interested in him, which was a far greater number of people than he was comfortable with. It was probably his armor. Warlock robes didn't seem to be a standard fashion element in this universe as they were in the Last City.
"Risen?" a voice called from a booth tucked away in a corner of the club.
Rigel followed the voice, seeing a red-skinned salarian with white facial markings sat in a chair. He was wearing heavy yellow armor with black designs. An asari stood on over each of his shoulders – likely guards to ensure business was conducted smoothly.
"That's me." Rigel said as he sat across from the Salarian. He and Nova had agreed beforehand to use an alias if for no other reason than to mislead any eavesdroppers. It wasn't like Rigel had a history that could be looked up in this world, but, as any Risen who had lived as long as Rigel had knew, it was better to be overly cautious. "I see you brought friends." Rigel said, pointedly looking at each of the asari.
"A precaution. I am sure you can understand. An unknown actor contacts my personal business line out of the blue and claims to have an unprecedented amount of a rather rare product? I had almost expected to be meeting a hit squad." The salarian said easily, picking up a glass and taking a sip of a red liquid.
"No hit squad. Just me. Transfer my payment and the goods are yours."
"And let you disappear without delivering on your end? Unlikely." the asari over Jaroth's right shoulder said.
Rigel spared her a glance before looking back at Jaroth. "I'm sorry, I thought I was dealing with you. Is she the boss here?"
"I am in charge, but Holane makes a good point. What is to keep you from taking the credits and running?"
"If you're that concerned about it, transfer the credits and I'll transfer the location of the goods. You and I will sit right here and share a drink. Send someone to verify it's all there then we go our separate ways." Rigel said, leaning back in his chair.
Jaroth's eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded. "Acceptable." Jaroth held up his arm and his omni-tool appeared before him. His fingers gracefully danced across the holographic surface before he dismissed the omni-tool.
Payment received. Nova said in Rigel's mind.
Rigel reached into his pocket, smirking beneath his helmet as the two asari reached for their pistols. Producing a keycard, Rigel slid it across the table to Jaroth. "Docking bay C-32. There's a beat to shit kodiak there loaded with your goods. Keep the ship."
Jaroth easily picked up the keycard and held it over his left shoulder. The unnamed asari took it and quickly left the club, likely on her way to verify the delivery.
"So, come here often?" Rigel said, kicking his feet up on the table.
Jaroth didn't seem fazed by Rigel channeling his inner Cayde-6. "Yes. The Afterlife is neutral territory. It is a good place to conduct business. The drinks are serviceable as well."
"You get into a lot of trouble that requires a neutral ground meeting?"
"What do you care, human?" Holane hissed over Jaroth's shoulder.
"Just making idle conversation while we wait for your friend to give the all clear. If you'd prefer. I can sit perfectly still and make no noise." Rigel said, tilting his head to show emotion with his helmet on.
"I'd consider that a blessing." Holane said, smirking.
"Very well." Rigel said with a shrug, retracting his legs from the table. He straightened his back, sitting ramrod straight and ceased all movements, including his breathing.
She's not a little boy who wandered into the Tower by accident. She's not going to be impressed by your statue routine. Nova said in Rigel's mind, her tone exasperated.
Everyone is impressed by the statue routine. Just wait and see.
Holane grinned an arrogant smile at Rigel as he sat perfectly still. A minute passed and the smile faded. Two more minutes passed and she started to shift around uncomfortably. Another five minutes passed and the asari looked visibly perturbed.
Told you.
Next time I revive you, I'm drawing a mustache and whiskers on you first.
With what appendages, wench?
I'll make some, bastard. Nova cut back, humor coloring her tone.
Jaroth's omni-tool suddenly flared alive. The salarian quickly swiped through a few screens before standing from his chair. "It seems all goods have been delivered as agreed." He tapped his omni-tool once more. "For the kodiak. Can't have you claiming Eclipse cheated you. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Risen. Good day." He walked away from the table, Holane following a little too quickly on his heels.
How much did we make?
More than enough. We'll get you situated with a black-market omni-tool and some incredibly illegal weapons here then buy passage to the Citadel to get a commercial-grade ship. Is there anything else you want?
Raw materials. Buying pre-made stuff is all well and good, but if we're really stuck here I want to make a glimmer forge as soon as possible. You've still got designs for all of my standard weapons, right?
Yes, but we should be careful making a full-scale glimmer operation. That sounds like a good way to get every shadow government knocking on our door.
We'll do it carefully, but I want my weapons back. The ones here are…lacking.
…You know we won't be able to replace Wish Ender and Gjallarhorn, right?
Rigel sighed, leaning back in his seat. Gjallarhorn had been with him for a very long time. Forged from the armor of those who fell beside him at Twilight Gap, by using it to fight on, Rigel felt as if his many lost friends were still there fighting beside him. Wish Ender was a gift from a fallen friend earned while he fought his way through the divine realm of that dead woman's lover. It was a gift and a promise. Both had meant more than Rigel could describe with words. At least he still had the Ace of Spades.
I know. But a good sniper rifle and something for mid-range engagements that doesn't use those heat pack things that you can't generate would be good.
Thermal clips. And you're right. I just don't want you to draw more attention than you can handle.
Worst case scenario, we head to our trove on Mercury.
Rigel, our trove won't be there in this universe.
No, but the cave likely will. Even without having been terraformed by the Traveler, that was a distinct feature of the planet, and I seriously doubt anyone will be able to find us there without explicit directions. We can even wait until we're there to set up a glimmer forge if it makes you more comfortable.
That's not a bad idea. Heads up. Four o'clock.
Rigel lazily rolled his head to acknowledge the batarian walking towards him. "Yes?"
"Aria wants to see you." the batarian said, his hand gently coming to rest on his holstered pistol.
Rigel marked the motion, but didn't noticeably react to it. What do you have on Aria? he asked Nova.
Queen of Omega. She's powerful, both politically and science-based space magic-wise. If you talk to her, be polite. We can handle her, but I'd really rather we not have to fight our way off this asteroid before we use any of the money I worked really hard to get us with no strings attached.
I'll behave.
Rigel stood up, sweeping his arm to the side. "Lead the way, good sir."
The batarian scoffed, but led Rigel away from his table through the club. The pair ascended a staircase lined with heavily armed guards until they came to a platform overlooking the Afterlife. An asari with designs tattooed onto her face lazed on a sofa, watching Rigel as he stepped away from his batarian guide.
"I was told you wanted to speak with me." Rigel started neutrally.
"Who are you?" Aria said, her head tilted, her chin pinched between two fingers.
"Call me Risen."
Aria narrowed her eyes, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa and standing. "A fake name from a man wearing a helmet that conceals his face wasn't quite what I was looking for with that question. You show up out of nowhere with more Minagen X3 than I've seen pass through Omega in the last five months combined and enough weapons to outfit three asari commando units. What are you after?"
"If you want the truth, I'm just here for money. I've got some purchases I have to make yet, then I'll be out of your hair. Er, crests?" Rigel said, running his hand beside his head in the path of Aria's crests.
Aria stared at Rigel unblinking, studying him. "Don't start anything while you're here. You won't like how it ends." Aria spun around and walked back to her couch, lounging once more.
Rigel allowed himself to chuckle as he turned away. "You don't know what I do for fun, Aria." Shaxx's Crucible was one of Rigel's favorite pastimes. He was free to kill his friends and be killed by his friends with no consequences. Omega wouldn't know what hit it.
Rigel walked back down the stairs and straight out of the club, stepping over to the balcony that overlooked the station, the same one a certain krogan was recently thrown off.
Give me a waypoint to wherever I'm getting that omni-tool, would ya? Then a second one to wherever that Dragan guy is.
A pair of markers blinked to life on his HUD.
Thank you kindly. Rigel said, vaulting over the railing to take the fastest route to the indicated shop.
A.N.
Posted the wrong chapter initially. Sorry about that. I'm not perfect.