The funny part about prioritizing the needs of some people who haven't been very lucky is that you can end up forgetting your own. Not that a meal or water is much needed right now, because if there's one thing Fairport is known for besides its massive paranormal activity it's its scarcity of resources that were totally burned off by the fire of retaliation.

So, aside from a rather noisy reminder from my stomach that something is missing, it's not really a big deal.

Unless you're face to face with a stubborn alien enough to get what she wants. You'd expect the cluttered files on the nearby terminal or the scattered datepads we spent time arranging into a small pile would be a higher priority, right?

Turns out it wasn't for Tali.

My eyes closed as I prepared myself in an almost ritualistic way for what was to come, enjoying the aroma produced before I opened my mouth to allow the square-shaped dough to enter, the flavor of wheat… the unknown goodies filling its middle danced around my tongue as I savored the sandwich with an enthusiasm that could be compared to a child's.

"For someone who was so insistent on not having a meal, you seem to be enjoying a lot." Opening my eyes allowed me to see the glowing orbs staring at me through her mask, which was doing little to hide her natural glowing amusement. "Is it good?"

"...It's acceptable." I continued chewing as casually as I could, avoiding eye contact with her until I noticed I was halfway through the sandwich. Damn it. "It's good, ok? It's really good…thanks."

"You're welcome." I don't need to see through the mask to know she's grinning, probably very pleased with this little victory. "I wish I could eat my food with the same enthusiasm."

"Question." There was a small compartment with wire-thin tubes attached to her helmet. "So this little thing is some kind of… soup?"

"Dextro-amino edible paste." It's almost… weird to see her just standing… sucking her lunch. It doesn't exactly seem like a pleasurable experience, but a necessity rather than personal preference. "It's not as good as the ones I got in the fleet before I went on my pilgrimage, but it's better than nothing."

"So you can't eat anything… solid?"

"No, unless I want to have a very nasty reaction. The immune system is not… something to be proud of among my people."

Weak immune system. Is that why…. "Is that why you wear this all-sealed suit?" She nodded positively. "Can't you remove it?"

"No. Well, I can remove my suit, but the exposure could be more than unpleasant, even dangerous in the long periods of time. I've seen some marines in the fleet get horrible infections from a suit violation."

"How does anyone manage to live that way?" Trapped inside a suit, seeing the world without being able to feel the breeze in the air. Without the little pleasures we find around us like the starry sky or other things that make life drowned in violence insanity we have worth it. "It's just… it sounds tough."

"We weren't… always like this. Living on ships without contact with any organism for centuries has severely weakened our immune system."

"Why choose something like that?"

"Simple: we don't." She disconnected the tubes, discarding the probably now empty container. "We were expelled from our home world, forced into exile in space as a result."

I choked on the water at the sudden and so…casual statement. "Shit… sorry!" I mean, there was a carefully disguised bitterness, but there was also the naturalness of an unchanging reality. "Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Don't worry, it's okay." She seemed more amused by my misfortune with the water than anything else. "That's kind of common knowledge, even though many have no interest in our history or think we're just scavengers and thieves."

"And I thought that 159 years of advancement would have made civilizations less ignorant, here we are judging someone just because that person lost the planet. " Lost the planet… It's as weird as it sounds. "Maybe the world doesn't change, only the garbage we throw at people."

"Losing our home is just part of it, Joe. The fact that we created the Geth is basically what made us lose an embassy in the citadel and be seen as criminals."

"Oh yes, of course… Geth." Note for later: search the extranet for Geth. Hell, how much do I still have to learn anyway? "But hey Tali, when I saw you down there with those people… I didn't think you were a thief or anything like that."

"I know." Maybe there was a smile behind the mask or maybe I was just imagining it. My only certainty is that her hands began to move in what was clearly nervousness before she spoke. "I… guess it's my turn with the questions now. I've been thinking and I'd like to ask you a few things too."

"Shoot."

"Are you alliance?"

"That was strangely specific." Nothing of what your favorite color is or any other first date cliché, not that it's… a date. "Why's that?"

"It's just that I saw the chain with a small piece of metal hanging in your neck." My eyes snapped back to my tag dangling in the air. "This is something that human soldiers use, right?"

"Yep."

"So you…"

"I'm not alliance, Tali. Soldier once, a long, long time ago in… an unconventional battle. But no, I'm not alliance." Or am I technically? The command was absorbed after all. Would that classify me as retired or relocated? "Let's just say I'm… part of a dying branch that's seen a lot of shit in a lot of different places."

"I see. So you mean you've been in a war?"

"Sort of." Eliminating the Taliban and occasionally blowing things up is more of a cleanup compared to all the shit ATC has unleashed. "You can only call it war if there's a winning side, if not, it's just… chaos."

"I can't say I've heard about human conflicts beyond the first contact war and the skyllian blitz."

"Well, don't bother yourself with. I doubt anyone would find anything about it anyway, it wasn't exactly public knowledge." Funny, I never stopped to think what justification they gave for all the corpses that don't officially exist decorating Hoyle's house.

That and the senator himself with his neck broken.

"So you're not alliance but you were in… some kind of secret military unit?" she asked, which I just nodded before grabbing the ramen. A hundred years into the future and they still do these little things. "But then… why did you look so strange to a carnage shot."

The chopstick holding the noodles was immobile between my fingers for a few seconds until I resumed eating the instant meal. She's a shrewd little thing, isn't she?

"And you didn't even know what an omni-tool was… not until that moment." The glowing orbs were looking at me through the mask with a different glow, the glow of someone putting together a puzzle. "You also seem a little strange to basic technology."

The ramen became something to savor slowly as I continued to chew continuously, either out of discomfort at the flaws she was finding in my ill-told story or because the ramen is quality it's hard to tell, but I'm inclined to bet on the former.

"I'm not saying I think you're lying, but it's just…some things don't really fit together. Joe, who are you really?"

The million dollar question isn't it? Multidimensional traveler, man from the past, or both? I'm still trying to find out too. The truth is, the long answer would take too long and make me sound like a complete shitty freak. we've come a long way from "I'm afraid of you" to "let's eat and swap questions" to set things back with a dark truth.

The short answer is probably more preferable.

"I'm a guy with enough scars to write a book about each one of them and I have less human tact than I'd like." I can tell by the slight visible narrowing of her eyes that this wasn't the answer she was hoping for. Luckily it wasn't just the glare in his eyes endowed with a spatial beauty that I noticed, but also a datapad in particular. "What do we have here you big son of a bitch…"

"What is it?"

"When did you say you were kidnapped?"

"Two weeks ago. We were in this system searching when a strange energy flow fried our ship and… the pirates appeared."

"Well that's a sales record from a week ago." Sales record… just names of what seems to me species due to some being repeated. People being treated like merchandise… I don't know why I'm still surprised. Oh yeah, maybe because 150 years later human life is still the same unscrupulous and wild crap it always was. "Eleven asari, five humans, four batarians, three turians and a single quarian."

"Captain Breizh… where is he?"

"It says here, buyer: sons of Khar'shan… without a doubt the weirdest name I've ever seen. Place of purchase… Omega." If fate had a face, I imagine the bastard would be laughing a lot at me right now just for the irony. "Do these names mean anything to you?"

"No, all I know is khar'shan is the batarian homeworld and that Omega is a space station. I don't know much more, but if that's where Captain Breizh is, that's where I'm going. " She practically flew to the… controls in what looked like the pilot's area to me. She looked excited and determined, almost hopeful and then visibly frustrated. "Bosh'tet!"

"Everything okay there?"

"I… don't know how to fly."

"I thought the tech stuff was your thing."

"I'm an engineer, not a pilot, Joe. It's different."

"Wouldn't that thing have…I don't know, autopilot?"

She stared at me for a moment in what I thought was just give me a look of weirdness, but I think it was something more closer to a silent thanks as she frantically turned back to the holographic con

"Got it!"

The weight of what is no doubt artificial gravity shifted slightly in an almost imperceptible way, the metallic structure designed to take trips that in my day were just fiction began to move in response to the commands of an anxious quarian.

The stars and darkness of the void that could be seen through the cockpit window seemed to move in an opposite direction that reminded me of those long helicopter rides through the Middle East into the unknown. Unknown as… this new world where a horror story of a family broken by corporate greed doesn't exist.

"This should lead to Omega."

It doesn't exist… It's funny. Why does facing the stars always make me wonder? ATC, Harlan... It's all a distant ghost now. A part of my life that seems to have been buried by that last contraction that swept everything away in a cloud of dust and an almost cleansing destruction.

Everyone that matters to me escaped safe and fine, able to go their own way after enduring through all the dirt that was that cursed city.

Maybe now it's my turn.

"Joe?" A small three-pair finger nudged my arm, snapping me out of my reverie. "Are you okay?"

" Actually, I just realized something." I shook my head before facing her. "What were you saying?"

"The VI will take the cruiser straight to Omega, it's on its way already."

They say that when one door closes God opens another, they also say that we all owe him a life. I always thought it was a bunch of bullshit, but here I am, breathing the air of a new world that smells like… a new beginning. I'm not religious, but that certainly feels like providence.

And if I'm indebted to the guy above all things, perhaps I can repair this debt with one last bloodshed.

"Omega huh… I think we already have a destiny then." I walked past her towards the pistol on the floor, tucking it into my hip again.

"We?"

"Yes we." One last mission before I'm gone for good, hang up my guns and maybe open a bar in Miami. Yeah, why the hell not? Sounds pretty appropriate after all. "What did you offer me earlier, balance my chances? Well, I'll extend the same offer to you and help find your friend."

"Joe, I'm glad you care. But that's my problem and you don't need to get involved. Not that I wouldn't appreciate your help, but… I can't ask you to take more risks. Breizh is my captain and my problem. "

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown and sometimes that's why it's good to share the weight."

"... What does that mean?"

I need to stop using human sayings when she's around.

"It means you don't have to do this alone. There's a saying on my planet that everyone in this life will need help. Well, you clearly need help, so why not let me help you?"

"Because I just can't ask you to put yourself at risk for my problems. In case it wasn't clear enough, slavers are dangerous."

"We're not exactly the helpless average citizen. Besides, you didn't ask, I'm offering my help."

"I… keelah." She sighed for a minute, resting her hand on her helmet. "But why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you care so much? I mean… we just… we barely know each other and… I'm a Quarian. Not many would put themselves in danger for one of us. So why?"

Why when I try to just offer help just because I can people think it's so weird? Screw this! She wants a reason? I can think of two.

"Because there's a debt I feel in need to pay, preferably with bullets. And to be honest, you're growing on me. Besides, I don't have anything better to do, so why the hell not?" I just shrugged as she shook her head.

"You are definitely a strange human, Joe."

"It's part of the charm."


Cozy. I spent most of the trip making small talk and then the other half looking for a place… isolated. What wasn't too difficult, a spacious area, which I imagine to be the cargo sheath of this spacecraft, proved the ideal location. Quiet, silent, and dimly lit, perfect for organizing your head and… thinking.

Or it would be perfect if it weren't for the figurative scent of death and depravity present in the aura around this giant mobile structure, still prevalent enough to infuriate me with the notion of what was accomplished here. Not enough, the fruits of the illicit cultivation of the dead were everywhere in the form of crates containing something I'd rather not even know about, scattered in exuberant quantities that can only be rivaled by the weapons in the arsenal.

You can't really have everything in this life.

Sitting here alone, I faced the darkest corners in a watchful way that I now recognize as a little unnecessary, not to mention paranoid. I think I'm still waiting for something born of darkness to leap out of the shadows to try to cut my throat, even though I know deep inside, there's nothing there. Maybe Fairport is like New York in the sense that it will always be a part of you, mostly because of all the fear and violence witnessed there.

Or maybe for the smallest good things, like the contagious sound of a little girl's laughter being pushed on her swing or the genuine smile of joy and admiration present on her little face as she looks at you, seeing something... better and with less monstrous.

Even when the line between ATC black ops and scientists, office workers and receptionists began to get so… thin, she still saw me in shining armor despite all the blood spilling down to my neck like a crimson sea of sin.

I miss you, girl.

The shape of a figure descending through the hatch could be seen in the corner of my vision, pulling me out of my musings towards a less-than-pleasant place. The dry cough was revealing enough, but the slow, shuffling step of someone with a few injuries not yet properly treated left little room for surprise when the familiar figure of an old man stopped a few feet in front of me.

"Kid."

"Old Robe." From a deplorable state to something less pitiful. He still looked bad, still wearing the rags for clothing. But less dirty, able to walk and sit on the crate alone. "Dark places filled with illicit content are your first choice of destination as a free man?"

"The only way off the ship is my first choice of a destination. *Cough* But what about you, what brings you here? As eager to get home as the rest of us maybe."

"Only came here because I had the feeling that no one else would."

"Not much of a people's person, huh? Can't say I got another impression of you."

"I just like the dark." I grabbed my knife, nonchalantly tracing a shallow circle almost invisible to the naked eye on the metal surface with the sharp point of the blade. "It's quiet and good for thinking. Even though most people are afraid of what might be lurking in."

"Trying to scare me away, kid?"

"Just telling you my reasons for you not thinking it's all creepy."

"Well it's not working." There was a small dose of humor in her voice, contagious enough to make me give a weak, husky laugh in return. "I could say it's having the opposite effect."

"Yeah, maybe." A complete circle, as expressed as one formed with ink. I changed the angle, going to the middle of the circle with movements similar to a child scribbling on paper with a pencil. "What are your plans for what comes next?""

"Honestly, I think at the moment I just want… I don't know. To feel the air, even though it's artificial and from as disgusting a place as Omega."

"Familiar with the place?"

"If you live on the Terminus system, you've heard of Omega." Vague, very vague. I momentarily interrupted my horribly simple-minded, no-obligation artwork to give him a questioning look. "It's a space station, some folks call it the evil version of the citadel. A place full of scum, with no laws. A true hell in space."

"Good." I drove the blade into the frame, leaving a stab-like mark on the cursed heart of the circle with a small ball in the middle. So simple, but at the same time the symbol of a lot of pain. "The general idea of hell is that everyone who inhabits it deserves punishment."

I silently tucked my knife away in its usual place, taking one last look at what now resides the symbol of a project buried by fear before looking at old Robe, confused and about to open his mouth to say something before a rattle rocked lightly the ship.

Then the elevator door opened for the procession of ex-slaves to huddle in the cargo sheath, now no longer as empty or even silent as before. Seeing them all a second time was less disturbing. Despite the injuries treated with limited resources there was considerable improvement.

Tali definitely did the best she could.

Aside from their severely battered condition, everyone, including the blue women still wearing rags and blankets to cover themselves in the absence of real clothes, seemed to be waiting for the cargo sheath to open in what I can only imagine was the urge to taste the air just for the simple pleasure of choosing to do it freely, no more shackles around your neck or someone pushing and abusing you around like you were an object of their sick entertainment.

"Open Sesame."

The cargo sheath hatch opened to reveal an exterior… red, luminous and red like a pile of corpses dripping with fresh blood. Everyone present here was then greeted by a surprisingly real breeze for a space station.

The eyes closing in genuine appreciation and the relaxation in uncomfortably rigid postures caused by periods of incalculable abuse were small indications of how much these people were losing themselves in the simple act of feeling the air being finally free.

Freedom can be invigorating to the soul when you are deprived of it for a while I guess. I just contented myself with watching it closely for a while. Because if you look closely enough at the dissipation of the accumulation of suffering, you might be able to see some spark of hope that makes humanity even minimally salvageable.

That's if you're not distracted by the almost comical sight of the small figure of a quarian trying to get past the mass of people exiting the elevator.

She was inches away from poking my arm when I got up from my seat and turned to look at her, making her jump slightly. "So dark basements are your thing too? Because it's looking quite popular right now."

"I was just trying to find you to…." She looked past me to the procession around us, the luminous orbs behind the mask narrowing slightly. Someone is confused. "What are they doing?""

"Feeling genuine satisfaction, enjoying being their own owners again, breathing clean air, choose." I shrugged. Maybe it's a mix of the three. "Need something?"

"I just wanted to know if you're ready to go and…well, I actually want to know if you haven't changed your mind."

"Why would I ?" And please don't give me the thing about why my people are seen as outcasts, I think we're already past that.

"I've been talking to some of the people here who know the station. Apparently Omega isn't the most… peaceful place, even by Terminus system standards."

"And you think that little fact might have changed my mind about helping you?" She nodded. The prospect that places with runaway crime rates could have scared me would have been funny if it weren't for the fact that someone else would have abandoned her in my place just because she is what she is. "Tali, I've also been talking to people who know a thing or two about the place, I have a pretty good idea what we're getting into."

"And you still want to come with me?" She looked hopeful, but at the same time ready to just go it alone on what's smelling like a space and more savage version of Detroit.

She is without a doubt an independent woman. Green as grass and too fluffy for this world, but independent and who doesn't need someone holding her hand if the situation calls for a walk in hell.

"All the way through to the end as long as you need." My statement had the effect of making her little glowing eyes narrow and crinkle in what was clearly a genuine smile that I couldn't help but return, albeit weakly out of habit, with one of my own.

It's good. I almost forgot what it was like to smile at something other than death.

"Before we go, what are we going to do about them?" She gestured to the souls freed from a world of pain filling the charge sheath. "I mean… do you think it's a good idea to leave them alone?"

"Yeah, maybe it's troublesome. Baby bottles and baby wipes are out of stock. It could be a big problem in the long run."

"I'm serious, Joe."

"Me too, these people aren't children, Tali."

"And we're not deaf either." We turned to see who the voice that joined the conversation belonged to, a bird man with half a scuffed face and one swollen eye. "And while we appreciate all the help you've given us, I think I speak for everyone here when I say we don't want to be treated like a burden."

"I didn't mean to offend any of you, I just… sorry." She looked away, fidgeting with her hands nervously in what was definitely a pretty cute image before composing herself as best she could. "It's just that some of you could barely move on your own… let alone… defend yourself."

"This and you are what, months being held captive? It tends to screw with people's psyche, which leads to errors that are often fatal." I pointed out, coming to the aid of my alien abolition partner. "Besides, I think everyone is familiar with or has heard about the reputation of the neighborhood we're parking in, right?"

Several heads nodded in agreement while others just mumbled silent confirmation.

"Yes, we're aware of what kind of place Omega is." Said the lord bird man of the pirate captain. "That's why we're arming ourselves."

His statement prompted me to take a closer look at the cargo sheath, particularly the ex-slaves who occupied it. The few who weren't feeling the air or now talking to each other were breaking into some of the crates that surprisingly contained more of the futuristic ordnance.

"Do you know how to use these weapons?"

"Me and everyone here who grew up under Palaven sun. All turians go to the military at sixteen. And aside from that, there are a few batarians among us who know a thing or two about guns."

"See? They're all big boys." I commented, making a mental note about turians and earning an eye roll from Tali.

"Are you really going to be okay?" She asked.

"As well as can be hoped for after all. Just do what you have to do out there and be careful. We owe you a lot, Tali Zorah." The…turian replied, which resulted in multiple murmurs of agreement and an oddly disproportionate nod to the left from some of the four eyes I assume are the so-called batarians.

This resulted in Tali looking quite shy, if the way she was scratching the area of her arm over the outfit without saying a word is any indication. I guess someone isn't exactly used to or comfortable with getting that kind of attention. Even more considering what she told me about being on a pilgrimage, it's her first time facing the world …

And all of it's faces, particularly the wildest and darkest ones that some are lucky enough to never need to see.

"Ready to go?" I asked, saving her a moment of embarrassment and myself from feeling bad that she was in a situation that the two of us had no control over. At least I prevented anything worse from happening to her…and these people..

"Ready when you are."

Magic words said, I went to one of the open crates, pulling out an extra pair of pistols for future use. In the absence of these gun magnets or a traditional bandolier of my time, the smart thing to do is to take something that I can discreetly carry around with me.

Prying eyes will always be a pest in any weather and world.

Armed and ready, we just made our way through the mass of ex-slaves who allowed us passage to the hatch or whatever will allow us access to the outside world. An old man's worried eyes gave us a silent farewell, but it was the turian whose spirit even the sadistic brutality of this vessel could not break that gave us aloud farewell.

"Good luck. May the spirits be with both of you."

"Keelah se'lai."

"Lock the sheath and stay sharp."

With our respective farewells said and our hostage rescue mission in place, we made our way through the hatch of the wide-open cargo sheath to the outside world that is sure to be no gentler than the interiors of the ship, whose hatch has closed on our back with a small thud.

"Ideas?" It took the sound of the hatch closing behind us and walking across the bridge connected to the ship creating a sort of passageway to realize that we don't exactly have a starting point. "I don't remember that sales note mentioning an address, any suggestions on where we should start?"

"I… really didn't think that far." She admitted shyly, avoiding eye contact with me in what I was learning to interpret as shame. "I suppose since this station doesn't have any kind of law, we won't be able to rely on any authority figures."

"Not that they would be of any help anyway." Help out when it's convenient or when important figures are involved, just file the missing ones and avoid the hassle of an investigation. "Why don't we do light reconnaissance? See what awaits us on the other side of the bridge before we decide how to cross it."

"Works for me."

For both of us, kitten. As we walked in silence, I allowed my curiosity to take over and studied this…anchoring camera with a fascination compared to a blind man seeing color for the first time. It was a wide, all-metal hallway, walls festooned with graffiti and dents, and loose cables produced a small amount of smoke in the corner.

It looked like the entrance to a futuristic slum, but even its deplorable state didn't obscure the fact of how advanced all the technology must be to keep this place afloat. However, it's still a deplorable and corrupted specter to its core of what we're going to encounter when we're inside the real thing.

After all, you can get a sense of what's waiting on the other side of the door based on its conditions outside.

And maybe that's one of the universal rules that freaks like me and exiles like my new partner know and understand, as Tali seemed tense with every step that brought us closer to entering the station. Her posture had nervousness and a small dose of fear evident in her little fingers moving subtly but nervously for the grip of a gun.

It's her first time entering a place where scum reigns supreme, perhaps the closest thing to physical hell. Normal to feel scared, normal to feel threatened. I could hear my superior officer yelling to stand firm, that we have a job to do and that lives depend on it. So many times I would have repeated those same words, like when we were in Afghanistan or struggling to escape Origin's explosion.

But now I was searching my mind for something… close to comforting, something to cheer her up or distract her from her own fear simply because… I want to. Against any remnants of the long-broken soldier mentality that still exists inside of me, I want to cheer her up.

But unfortunately I couldn't, not when a small window in the corner providing a detailed view of the station captured my eyes like a target through the scope of a rifle. It was a minimal and not quite revealing view of the station, just from its side where red lights could be seen in the distance, pulsing and then increasing in intensity and brightness.

The red coloring soon began to take on something closer to the orange of a solar fire, growing and trying to spread to consume everything with its flames. Screams could be heard, singing a melody of chaos and horror across the space cosmos.

"This doesn't look good."

I couldn't agree more, except that it wasn't the glimpse of the flames of violence and chaos fading with a wink from my eyes that she was referring to, but the unexpected welcome committee coming around the corner towards us.

Two batarians in the rear, the typical basic grunt compared to the two people in front; a turian whose facial expressions meant nothing to me due to his alien nature but who is sure as dangerous as someone who fought and sweated for his homeland and a blue lady with a purple hue, beautiful and sensual face sporting tiny white lines resembling a tattoo tribal of some sort that also formed a pattern on her black armor. Her walk exuded the kind of confidence that could only be gained in many battles won with a respectable amount of accumulated kills.

Two seasoned veterans, no doubt about, with the obligatory clichéd henchman looking out for their backs.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" She spoke flatly, amusement masking a strange disappointment in her eyes, sizing us up and down in an all-too-familiar predatory way. "You definitely don't look like pirates."

"Insightful of you, it makes me wonder what gave us away." I said, standing in front of this group and purposely creating more distance between them and Tali. "The good look, perhaps the absence of an eye patch or a hook in the hand?"

"I don't know about the weird human metaphors, but maybe a little bit of your look… yes." She stated, giving me another look, less predatory and analytical and more derogatory this time. "Yes, maybe the fact that you look like a bum who spent most of your short human life inside a cave with no hygiene whatsoever."

No hygiene maybe, but with the knowledge of cutting someone up and making the torture last for hours, and now it seems quite appropriate to test it on a different anatomy! Lack of manners and a sharp tongue had always been a bad combination, and my hand was about to grab the right tool to reduce the second to nothing more than a cut muscle organ next to a corpse.

At least that was the idea, if Tali hadn't sprinted between me and the blue bitch in such a spontaneous way that it made me wonder for a minute if she wasn't a latent psychic, unintentionally reading my thoughts and reacting to it.

"We're not looking for any trouble, okay?"

"Neither do we, sweetie. We're just here for business that unfortunately doesn't involve the two of you and that puts all of us in an annoying situation." The bitch in dark armor with white lines and a tongue so temptingly removable glanced at her otherwise silent turian companion. "What do you think?"

"They're not pirates or slaves, but they're leaving Rixx's cruiser like they own the damn thing." Turian expressions, real crap. I can barely tell what the big guy is thinking, it bothers me. "I think Aria will ask a lot of questions, I think it's better for our health that we have the bloody answers."

"Huh, I thought the same thing, big guy." She hummed with a bored expression, looking up as if it were the most interesting thing in the world before grudgingly acknowledging our presence again. "Looks like you two will be joining us for a little run to afterlife."

"You're not making it sound like a request." Tali said, again creating a reasonable distance between the group, her hand subtly holding the pistol on her hip.

"Because it's not. You can come with us nice and easy or have your unconscious asses dragged wherever we need to. Simple."

I would love to see you try. Four against two indoors, hardly the worst scenario I've ever been in. Everyone has guns in hand except for her, making her an obvious choice, though the fact that she's not carrying her weapon means she can take care of herself up close and personal. Cutting her throat would be tricky if things ended up in a fight.

This isn't the burning streets of a ghost town where I just needed to be patient and watchful, it's not just about my chances of winning a fight anymore, but also about the chances of someone else getting hurt or maybe killed. The remaining three would be an easy target for Tali's shotgun and it would all be over as quickly as it started.

Or she could end up shot and killed.

Not to mention that, even if we dispatch these guys, we would still actually go back to where we started, no clues, no direction, nothing. If a door closes you break a window. These guys sure seem like a straightforward alternative to where we need to go if we play our cards right.

If things go wrong, nothing will stop me from clearing a path of destruction to create an escape route in the worst case.

"Let's spare us all a few moments of pain. I don't want to have to wipe your blood off my sweater." I declared, getting laughs from the batarian duo and a defiant look from the blue bitch in front of me who was doing a terrible job of hiding the discomfort of making eye contact with me. "And I imagine you don't want to have to explain to your boss how the people you had to take to her ended up being shot at the entrance to the station."

"That would be troublesome." stated the turian.

"I like to avoid problems." Mostly. "So take me to your leader."

I could see in the corner of my vision glowing eyes through the mask staring at me wide, but I refused to break eye contact with the blue bitch who was about to give a toothy grin that was reduced to a miserable slightly smug expression when she looked into my eyes again.

"Clever boy."

I just smirk, allowing us to be escorted by the group. The turian and his partner took the lead, leaving the batarians to "take care" of our backs while we remained in the middle, always going forward. I finally turned around to meet my partner's gaze, staring at me with desperately questioning eyes and scared eyes.

"Trust me." Due to so many ears all around us it was all I could say, all I could ask of her without spilling the beans. she nodded slowly and reluctantly, clearly not entirely confident.

I think it's the best I can do for her right now. There is a time to be comforting and a time to be professional, that certainly seems to be the last. No matter what time it was, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight of the place as our escort led us through the camera doors of that harbor to the luminously reddish and bustling Omega.

This is fucking impressive! It was a vision…totally out of my time in technological and scientific terms, a taste of where years of advancement could take civilizations, a floating world where buildings are made of metal and…cars circle the skies instead of roads.

Impressive without a doubt, but not even the mystique behind the wonders of the future can mask the decadence and pride concentrated in this place. Law, order, morality, that rare common decency, all completely forgotten in favor of the selfish pleasure of living by its own twisted rules and greedy immoral creed, no matter how much pain it causes others.

The soft red lighting, contrasted only by the club's various light shows a few meters in front of us, was like a beacon that the giant line of Hell's natives just ahead was compelled to follow, hoping to enjoy the pleasures and dark agreements concentrated in one unique place, a sanctuary consecrated with blood and death sheltering all sinners breathing the polluted artificial air of this floating world.

A paradise for the wicked, and its name is Afterlife.

All these people coming and going had goose bumps running all over the back of my head, like some kind of siren ringing in my brain. Their faces wore a demonic smile, their eyes endowed with an insatiable lust and a primal hunger glowing with a fire that could never be quenched.

Just like the flaming balls falling from the sky. The screams producing the melody of chaos returned, much sharper this time. There was the agonizing pleading of many souls that were never heard, the destructive snarls of fury and the horror freezing in a scream of pain. The fights being fought with fists and guns in the distance were the perfect portrait of the desire for violence, greed, hatred and revenge on a bloody battlefield where there are no rules.

It all formed an evil opera, a veritable piece composed for the great blazing inferno of retaliation and sheer brutality that was this place totally immersed in anarchy and depravity.

"Reminds me of home."

"Joe?" Her voice calling my name once more was my saving grace to behold the colors of the abyss, fading over the blink of my eyes, leaving behind only a lawless space station. "You…"

A nod was all I gave her, the presence of our escort making silence more preferable. She was still looking at me quizzically, but soon let it go when we were ushered through the door of the big club whose beat of music only intensified as we entered the den of perdition to venture among bad people I would make fear me.