Cantenelli looked at the asari, annoyed by her intrusion.<span style="color: Blue">That would be best.</span>He said coldly as she commented about trying to find another way off Omega.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Off you go.</span>He said, keeping his hand next to his pistol. As she turned to start going, he muttered under his breath,<span style="color: Blue">Who the hell sends a resume...</span>and flipped on his omni-tool to entertain the slightest curiosity, and to delete whatever she had sent.<span style="color: Blue">I don't run a cab service.</span>He continued muttering.<br/><br/>He opened the document, humored by the university notation of her education. But his eyes stopped dead as he encountered a line of information in the document, and the annoyed expression on his face vanished.<span style="color: Blue">Stop!</span>He ordered her, closing the document and walking up to her.<span style="color: Blue">You know Prothean tech?</span>He watched her for a response, then smiled ever so slightly.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Well, it seems I owe you an apology Milenya Kitenis. You do have something valuable to us. As it happens, our present operation involves the investigation of an as-of-yet unknown Prothean object. I wish I could say more, but frankly we don't know more. My ship is full of mercenaries and gunmen. None of us know Prothean tech, and I feel that would put us at a disadvantage. And a doctor of Archao-tech would be an asset. So, if you want passage off Omega then you just found it. But we require discretion in our activities. No communications about us, our ship, or our objective. We're not the only ones looking into this Prothean<i> thing</i>, whatever it is, and we don't want any uninvited inquiries.</span>He stared at her as he spoke.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Further, the ship lacks certain privacy considerations. She was built by Turians. Any private living arrangements on board would be limited.</span>He paused.<span style="color: Blue">If you can manage all of that, then your hired. Otherwise, you will have to look elsewhere. Do we have a deal? </span>He extended his hand.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Once the ship has re-docked, I'll send you its co-ordinates and we can talk further.</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>The asari dancer in Darion's lap leaned in close, pressing her chest against his while she whispered into his ear.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">We work for Aria, doing <i>everything</i> in our power to make her guests comfortable... </span>She took his hand and placed it against her sex.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">And Aria says that today you're her guest... it goes wherever you want.</span>The dancer reached down and tugged the underwear garment which separated along a tiny seam. She pulled it free and discarded it on the couch next to Darion.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Just relax...</span>She said, pushing away from him, and moving with the music.<br/><br/>Time passed, and Firas let the rhythm remove everything from his mind but the asari, moving with sensual agility, beautiful. The drinks came as they wanted them, the beats eventually becoming a blurred background to the moment, each step the blue women taking occupying all of his awareness, every curve and lingering caress occupying his senses.<br/><br/>Darion's dancer let the mercenary settle into the alcohol, keeping herself close to him, letting him feel her, forget himself in the softness of her skin. She partook in a few drinks as well, inviting him to explore her wherever he wished. In time she stood from his lap, and invited him to come back with her to finish what they started.<br/><br/>She guided him out of the private booth, away from Sorv and Firas, and into afterlife, discreetly crossing to an out of the way door that led out of the club to a series of private bedrooms for Aria's special guests. She walked until she found one open, and guided Darion into the small room with a window looking over the abyss of Omega stretching out beyond. The room was dominated by a large silken sheeted bed that was sinfully soft and inviting.<br/><br/>The dancer sat Darion down on the bed, and striped out of what remained of her clothes for him. Taking her time, letting him see every inch of her and savor it. She helped him out of his clothes, taking a long moment with his pants, to feel his erect cock, biting her lip seductively as she ran her hand down his shaft.<br/><br/>When he was naked, she sat back down on his lap, holding her thigh against his waste and her pelvis against his, her azure cunt pressing against his cock.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">I'm whatever you want...</span>She said, watching him, waiting for him to take her in any way he wanted.<br/><br/><br/>*<br/>**<br/>***<br/>**<br/>*<br/><br/><br/>She looked out the port observation window at the various crew and dock workers milling about on the dock. There had been a steady transfer of equipment since the ship had found the maintenance zone that the crew had determined safe enough. There were stacks of crates being opened and equipment being moved out of them and into the ship, out of Ashana's sight. They had been busy all night - or at least what qualified as night on Omega. The ebb and flow of the station was dependent on who you asked, everyone's mental clocks set to their own rhythm to meet their needs.<br/><br/>She walked away from the window to one of the two semi-circle sofas that were oriented in a half circle facing the window, with enough space to pass between them. She relaxed on one of them, running her hands over the fresh, ridged black material that backed it, smiling. She tapped a button beneath the side of the couch and a pole extended between the sofas, at what would have been their circular center.<br/><br/>Ashana stood and wrapped her fingers around the pole, leaning away from it and letting herself pivot around it, swinging. She liked having the pole in her quarters. The familiarity of it was comforting, and at once exciting for its purpose. Besides, she had convinced herself, it would help with her daily workouts.<br/><br/>She had never had as much as she did now. The observation deck alone had been larger than her apartment, which she had only taken a few keepsakes from before closing its door behind her for the last time. She looked across the room to the wide, white sheeted bed against the wall and the folded dancer's uniform on it. She felt the urge to strip down and put it on, to turn on some music and lose herself moving to the rhythm. But, instead she tapped the button again, dropping pole back down into the floor panel which, since its installation, differed in appearance from the those in the rest of the room.<br/><br/>She considered going out into the ship to browse the newly stocked foodstuffs for something to snack on, but the work on the ship was still under way, and she didn't need to be distracting to the new crew. To the Salarain doctor's credit, his efforts to expedite her healing were quite successful. The wounds on her back were healing with minimal scaring, and with several doses of some medical sounding substance, her broken ribs were coming a long quickly. Her face was no longer swollen and the discoloration had reduced significantly. The only side effect of the drug was a slight tingling sensation in her chest.<br/><br/>Darion, Firas, and Sorv hadn't come back from Afterlife yet. What they had been doing was anyone's guess, but Ashana knew the extent that Aria's girls were required to go to under similar circumstances, Ashana herself having been privy to them many times over her life. She hoped they had taken the girls out; a long night of heated sex would do them some good.<br/><br/>Ashana had spent her day locating the few shop's on Omega where higher class furniture and living appliances could be bought and buying things to fill out her room. After a few talks with the Captain, backed by several of the crew, she had convinced him that transforming the starboard side observation room into a lounge would be beneficial. Given what they had dealt with so far, a place to just relax would do wonders.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">Ashana, to the Cargo Bay.</span>The synthetically altered voice filled her room. She recognized it as the Quarian, Shira.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">I'm on my way.</span>Ashana responded and turned, exiting her room out into the halls of the Acheron. The ship was loud now. The process of moving some thirteen new crew members on board while also running a thorough refitting of the vessel had kept the atmosphere at a consistent frantic pace. She dodged one of the new faces that had a floor panel in the hall to her room open, doing something engineer like with the mechanical workings within.<br/><br/>She took a moment to look into the commons at the mess that had been present since the ship landed. The number of crates that had been stacked on and around the table had reduced since she last looked. Some of the contents had been spread out on the floor with some form of organization that was foreign to Ashana. Taseer emerged from the forward battery, a pair of the new engineers in tow that she was giving directions and explanations to. Ashana couldn't hope to comprehend the mechanical jargon or what it all meant, but the asari engineer had a commanding air about her when she was directing the crews. She pointed from part to part telling the engineers where they went, or what they did. Ashana wasn't entirely sure.<br/><br/>The window into the Tech Lab showed the changes that the space had gone through as well. It occurred to Ashana that she had never actually stepped foot inside the room before. But from her place in the commons she could see the complicated looking equipment inside, and the frosted glass partition that had been installed, separating the rear of the room from the lab equipment. Cantenelli had somehow found an expert on Prothean technology on Omega - or something to that effect, and had agreed to add a small separate living space for her in the lab. Ashana had only caught a glimpse of the asari in question. Not unattractive, but her posture suggested that she wasn't from Omega. It lacked the expected "fuck off" attitude that survival on the station generally required.<br/><br/>The other asari, however, fit the bill well. Cantenelli had sent all of the ground crew a message yesterday, noting that he had found an addition to the crew, and asked for their approval before he officially brought her on board. It was a good gesture, Ashana felt. The rest of the crew had yet to respond, but Ashana had agreed and given the asari's commando background, she doubted any of the others would turn her down.<br/><br/>Ashana left the commons, dodging yet another crewman hurrying out of the elevator, which Ashana quickly claimed. Elevator rides had become a commodity since the repairs began. Equipment and crew were being ferried up and down constantly. She sent the elevator down two levels to the cargo bay, exiting when the doors opened again. The bay was scattered with large crates, both open and closed. Several loading trolleys were being used to move some of the crates out and down the ramp to the dock outside. Ashana looked around, spotting Shira'Va to her left, yelling at a crewman further down the cargo bay.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">Move the damn crate! I don't care where, just get it off that seam!</span>She spotted Ashana and faced her, placing her three fingered hand on her hip along the embroidered detailing that ran across her pelvis and groin like risqué underwear would. It occurred to Ashana how provocative the Quarian made her suit look, as though she wanted to be strutting around in armored lingerie.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">There you are. Come here.</span>Ashana walked across the bay to her. The crewman had managed to get one of the loading assist machines to pull the crate away from the area Shira had yelled at him about. Shira walked to the wall, where there was a rectangular indentation. A holo-interface appeared and she started hitting keys.<span style="color: Navy">This... is why you don't need to spend the credits.</span>As she hit keys, a red light strip at the bottom of the indented rectangle lit up. She looked down the cargo bay, checking to see if it was clear, then hit another key.<br/><br/>Ashana heard a mechanical<i>thunk</i>and parts of the floor dropped down, sliding beneath other panels while a partition rose from the floor, parallel to cargo bay wall, and another partition at its far end butting against the wall. Ashana noted the two tracks that had been beneath the floor panel that ran the length of the partitions. Two solid target dummies that were folded down on the track lifted up, ready for use.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">It already has a firing range.</span>Ashana remarked, surprised and amused.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">Yes.</span>Shira said. Another key strike and a tray extended from the wall.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">How do I get the...</span>She began to ask, looking back at Shira, then stopped as the indented rectangle slid down, and a rack of M-8 Avengers emerged.<br/><br/>Shira lifted one of the rifles, the weapon opening in her hands. She hit a key on the pad and the left target dummies rode the track all the way to its end. The Quarian lifted the weapon to her shoulder, Ashana noting her experienced stance and confident grip. She squeezed the trigger and sent a series of short, controlled bursts at the target. Ashana's brow lifted as she observed Shira's accuracy.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Why aren't you on the ground team?</span>She asked once Shira ejected the spent clip.<br/><br/>The Quarian turned her visor to look at Ashana, the white eyes glowing within.<span style="color: Indigo">I'm ship security. I prefer to stay on board.</span>Ashana noted the hesitation in her voice. She tossed the gun to Ashana who caught it, looking at the weapon in her hands, moving it awkwardly.<br/><br/>Shira watched her turning it over.<span style="color: Indigo">How many times have you used one of those?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Once. When we took the ship.</span>She approached Shira and handed it to her. The Quarian gave Ashana a long look then walked back to the gun rack, folding the weapon and placing it beside the others. She hit a series of keys on the pad and the elements of the firing range began breaking back down into the floor. The gun rack closed, disappearing back into the wall.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">The guns come down from the armory. There's a rack marked for firing range transport if you want a different selection. </span><br/><br/>Ashana frowned.<span style="color: DarkOrchid">Why not just have the firing range in the armory?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">Safer if a weapon malfunctions down here.</span>Shira crossed her arms, looking at Ashana who gave the gun ferry a side long look then nodded slowly.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Can I ask you something?</span>Ashana looked at Shira.<br/><br/>The Quarian shrugged.<span style="color: Indigo">What?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Why does your suit look like that?</span>The Quarian shifted her weight, cocking her head slightly to the side. Ashana felt her eyes examining the skin tight fit of her own clothing choice.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">The same reason you do.</span>She replied. Ashana gave her a long, curious look. Shira walked up to her, looking her in the eye. Ashana could see the face beneath the mask, the Quarian's features silhouetted within the haze of the visor.<span style="color: Indigo">You want people to look at you and feel desire. To want you. Your beautiful and you want everyone to see that. So do I. Just because I'm trapped inside this suit doesn't mean I want to be admired any less than you. But they can't see me. Just this suit. So its all I can do.</span>Ashana watched the face within the visor, listened to her voice. The Quarian wasn't lying and that surprised Ashana, especially with how stoic and generally hostile Shira'Va had been so far.<br/><br/><span style="color: Indigo">Besides.</span>The Quarian took another step closer and reached up, grabbing Ashana's breast. The asari's mouth opened, at a sudden loss for words at being fondled, and her eyes widened in surprise. Behind the mask Shira started laughing, stepping back. She put her hands back on her hips, her laughing slowing.<span style="color: Indigo">I like to have fun too.</span><br/><br/>She laughed again as she walked past Ashana back toward the elevator. Ashana turned slowly to look at the Quarian walking away. She blinked, processing the laugh that had just been had at her expense. After a long moment she smirked and looked back at the firing range zone. She had offered to front the money for training aids, but Shira had refused it when she had offered yesterday. Now Ashana knew why. The ship already came equipped. She made a mental note to spend some time at the range to learn how to handle a rifle better. Until then, though, more basking in her new lavish living space was in order.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Firas lugged the two large cases along. In the back of his mind he lamented the lack of sleep he had received, and the excess alcohol consumption, but it was all well worth it. Even if the following morning was proving rough on him. He had passed numerous mechanics and repair dock workers as he navigated the hallways toward the co-ordinates of the ship's new dock that he had received.<br/><br/>He went down a staircase, turned a corner, then descended another staircase. Omega always seemed ready to support a firefight, he thought to himself as he passed crates, planters, and partition walls that would all make excellent cover if bullets started flying. An open door ahead yielded outside air, and Firas dismissed the observation, hoping the Acheron was close. He was already tired of carrying the cases as far as he had.<br/><br/>He let out a relieved breath as he exited and saw the black hull of the Acheron looming just ahead. The ship looked like a floating anthill, with workers swarming around and on it, sparks flying in places where hull panels had been removed to get at the complex systems beneath. The Turian suspected it probably cost a great deal of credits to keep them all quiet about what technologies lurked beneath the ship's skin.<br/><br/>He walked along the dock, parallel to the ship, admiring its form. He remembered when he had first seen it, the mixture of beauty in its Turian design, and the unpleasantness he had felt when he drew closer, seeing how it differed from the standard frigates. Its wings were drawn further back, two exposed engines mounted on each. It still had the primary drive in the tail, but it was oddly shaped for Turian work.<br/><br/><i>Prototype</i>. That's what Cantenelli had called it. But a prototype for what? It wasn't Turian, and it wasn't Human. Rather it was a combination of the two, a fusion of the two ideologies, and after spending some time inside, he knew that Turian and Human wasn't all it was either. And it was<i>stealth</i>, an idea that the fleet had little use for. Turians believed in overwhelming force, to crush their enemies, not beguile them with vanishing acts. And of course there was the mystery of why Falkris, the Turian commander who had been entrusted with the ship, had surrendered it to a Human pirate. After spending time with him, nothing about the Turian had suggested incompetence or traits of disloyalty.<br/><br/>But still, the ship was beautiful.<br/><br/>The closer to the ship's cargo bay door he got, the more littered the dock became. There was a myriad of crates and parts, most of which looked old and burnt out scattered about waiting to be hauled off for scrap or taken on board and installed. He received a few inquisitive looks from the engineers outside the ship as he turned and started toward the open cargo bay door, the far overhead lights of the dock being eclipsed beneath the shadow of the ship. He hefted the cases up the ramp and into the bay, which was only slightly less cluttered than dock. He made for the elevator, intent on delivering the cases to their destination as soon as possible. He entered the elevator as an engineer was exiting and rode it up to the CIC. He emerged to see Cantenelli, Falkris, and Mickey looking at a group of new hires that Firas assumed to be the new flight crew. Cantenelli was laying down rules about the ship, what they were aloud to touch, what they were - and the punishment for overstepping their bounds. Firas went left into the armory and set down the crates on the center work tables.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">Have you seen Darion?</span>Firas turned around, seeing Sorv standing over one of the work benches in the corner.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Not yet. When did you get here?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">Not long ago. Got a few things while I was out.</span>Sorv turned slightly and saw the two large cases Firas had been carrying.<span style="color: DarkOrange">And so did you. Mods?</span><br/><br/>Firas nodded and popped the locks on one of the cases and pulled out several racks of pristine new weapon mod kits, laying them out on the bench. He grabbed his Revenant from the wall and set it down next to them.<span style="color: Blue">Among other things. You?</span>Firas looked over his shoulder at Sorv, noticing that his suit had been altered. There were nodes and armor pieces that looked new.<br/><br/>Sorv tapped a few keys on his omni-tool and the emitters turned on, projecting the photonic energy mesh of the tech armor he had installed. Firas' mandibles flexed in approval.<span style="color: Blue">Not bad.</span>He flipped the locks on the other case and opened it, revealing the new armor within. Sorv looked at it and nodded.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">Kestrel?</span>He asked, looking at the design elements.<br/><br/>Firas nodded.<span style="color: Blue">I couldn't afford an entire suit, so its just torso and shoulder. But it will fix that hit I took last time we were here, and then some.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrange">Once Darion gets here, we're supposed to have a talk with the new asari Cantenelli hired. He says she's ex-commando or something like that.</span>Sorv said, turning off his armor.<span style="color: DarkOrange">Apparently he wants our approval before he officially hires her. The more asari the merrier, though. Especially after last night.</span><br/><br/>Firas chuckled and grinned in agreement.<span style="color: Blue">I hope this arrangement we have continues like that.</span>He said, serious about Cantenelli not fighting them for control of the ground team, as well as about asari never being a bad thing to have on a ship. Then he turned to his Revenant and began dismantling it to work with some of the mods he had bought.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>