Omega, the lawless capital of the Terminus systems, or so its inhabitants and of course Arira herself fancied it. Just like the rest of the planets or stations in the terminus Omega to be outside of the reach of any official council sanction or other actions they deemed appropriate.  Because of this the council relied heavily on a few discreet Spectre agents that reported on the various crime syndicates and pirate rings in the systems. Of course the strict secrecy required made it that much easier to disavow the actions of the individuals as well.  All knowledge of them would be entirely disavowed and the council would go on being the galactic police while said Spectre most likely would rot in a cell if they were lucky.<br/>Serena herself was one of these individuals, a Spectre doing recon in the Terminus systems. Of course she out of all of her comrades had the misfortune of being in the capital of the lawless systems. She’d been under cover for months know as a well off asari gun for hire to wealthy individuals who wanted someone gone or something protected. Needless to say work was in no supply on Omega for someone who had been a huntress for most of her maiden life and could prove it. Of course everything else after that was classified, including her asari commando career and her black op escapades as a Spectre but the intermittent time between age 70 and 300 could be easily faked when you had council authority and access to many ID chips and passport codes that law expressly forbade.<br/><br/>It had been three weeks since her last ‘job’ if it could really be called that. All she had to do was watch some billionaire Volus for a couple of weeks while he stayed on Omega to conduct some business under the radar of the council. Of course, little did he know that there was a Spectre on his staff leaking discreet information to the councilors. After the assignment ended she collected a rather hefty pay check from the eccentric alien and once more took to Omega to keep an eye on Aria’s ongoing dominance of the station and keeping tags on her agents. Serena had pictures of all of their faces, their names, their –real- names and of course she’d even bugged a few apartments under the pretense of a one night stand or two. It was of course unfortunate that she’d had to sleep with a couple of the ugly bastards but the information she’d gotten the council from a few sordid evenings had proven invaluable and there was always nights where she could let go on the station of course, like tonight.<br/><br/>Dirty, hazy air filtered through the weak streams of light that pierced the void windows of Omega and the dilapidated incandescent lighting that ran along the ‘roof’ of the ancient station. It was mostly smog of metal dust, filth and unknown particles that even made the Spectre shudder in disgust as she walked the streets of the filthy station. Of course the air she was breathing was just about the only thing she was concerned about on Omega. The citizenry knew more than well enough to stay away from her by just the way she was dressed and how she carried herself. Serene was a military woman through and through and it showed through everything from the meticulous care for the well-worn pair of combat boots on her feet to the straight, near-perfect posture her huntress cadre on Thessia had instilled into her through many years of careful practice and discipline. Her other clothing was just as military as her boots suggested. Her toned legs were covered by a pair of slightly baggy black and grey pattern fatigues and her shirt was almost like the casual dress shirt the Alliance military wore, showing quite well her flat stomach and the swell of her above average bust ( at least for an asari in her matron matron stage).<br/><br/>More than once or twice a thug or two had made to cut her off there in the alleys but all it took was a simple movement of her arm to the side to show the matte black and grey finished pistol sitting under armpit in a snug holster. The M-77 paladin  was probably one of the most intimidating handguns in production at the moment and it had saved her precious navy blue ass more times than Serena was willing to admit, and she knew quite well by experience that the Carnifex line was truly capable of taking out a charging krogan much like their slogan insisted.  Eventually the rhythmic pounding of her boots on the flooring of the station brought her closer and closer to the middle and the pounding bass of the club Afterlife. The line to even see the doorman curled well around the block like a snake of some sort but the Spectre walked past the menagerie of waiting species and simply headed straight to the human bouncer himself who simply smiled at her and waver her in with a friendly smile. Serena had cultivated a reputation around the station course as a rich merc who didn’t take shit from anyone and it had more than paid off on nights like this where she came to the palace of sin itself to unwind and perhaps pick up the latest word on the street about Aria and her goons.<br/><br/>Inside the pounding of the bass was even louder, it pressed at her eardrums and the asari could even feel the beat In her chest like the great drums before a mock hunt on Thessia. It made the asari smile, her white teeth clashing with the dark navy blue of her skin much like the almost tribal like bone white markings that played along her crest and the angular features of her face. Serena truly felt alive here and safe amidst all of the chaos. Bodies churned on the dance floor, grinding and sawing against each other in drug and lust fueled displays and more than likely a few unlucky men lost their loads quite early on the dance floor with the way most of the young women danced. The thought made the middle-aged asari smirk a little wider as her eyes played over the crowd, the tables and the strippers in the rafters. Of course her eyes lingered on gratuitous display of flesh and supple, young asari curves. Serena had to admit she liked them younger, their virility and passion made her swoon and it was the only way some of them could even keep up with her. Of course there was more purpose to her gaze than simple lechery. Her mind was already rapidly detailing the perfect places for cover during a firefight, who to shoot first, and what structure looked most prone to damage from a biotic shockwave. It was a mental reflex that she learned from her service as a commando and a huntress and it served her well as a Spectre as well and the habit was far from useless on Omega where a firefight was prone to break out at any given moment and Serena would be damned embarrassed if she died in the crossfire of a poker game turned violent.<br/><br/>The lights eventually began to strobe to the beat of a new song ((<a class="externalLink" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CW8UxuRNDeQ&amp;feature=related" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CW8UxuRNDeQ&amp;feature=related</a>) ), playing over Serena’s unusually dark skin and casting deep shadows on her face as she edged to the bar and noticed it was the usual turian at his post looking half-bored as usual. Slowly she made her way up to him and leaned on the bar with one arm out in front of her, the elegant silver bangle around her wrist clanging on the countertop and the matching necklace she wore caught the light. “ Jerod. Hey friend. Thessian ale in the bottle.” The turian smiled as much as he could with his mandibles, showing a slight familiarity with the asari. “What, came to drink and mope more about whatever happened to your bondmate?” He produced a bottle and opened the azure container with his palm, placing the chilled glass right in front of her. “I am not even going to ask how the fuck you know that. But shit man you make salarians looks stupid with that observation.” The turian shrugged and chucked a little, carrying on in his gravelly voice. “I had a bondmate once, I know all about that necklace and bangle you’re wearing.” He left with that, going to serve another customer but Serena stood there for a moment before shaking her head and sipping from her ale before shrugging.  No time to dwell on Aila, tonight was a night to relax. She deserved it. With one final thought on the face of a lover long gone she took a look around the bar for one thing in particular. Her greatest guilty pleasure of all, a young asari to delight in before she was pressed into an assignment again.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>