<div align="center">(https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210128/2dbbbdb83f81e86eb7c97538c683a9ea.png)</div><br/><br/><div align="center">(https://i.imgur.com/8Dp8AqQ.jpg)</div><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>The hanar -Balildin- moved closer to Jackiro, once again initiating a bobbing bow before speaking with rhythmic pulses of bioluminescence. “It will lead Ms. T’loak’s honored guests through the front. It wishes to share with all of you the magnificence of the Afterlife.”<br/><br/>The other turian with white face paint smeared across his left eye snorted at that comment. “You could make it sound less like a cult.”<br/><br/>But the hanar didn’t comment further, and instead, he turned on the spot and began walking ahead while droning on about the magnificent and bloody history of Omega -and how all others have failed to hold the station as long as the asari currently in power. As the group passed through the docking bay and entered the Kenzo District, Balildin continued on with his role of polite -if bland- tour guide. He spoke of the shops that were currently popular, who had the best wares, and who had the most random garbage. Occasionally, one tentacle would lift up and gesture in a reverent wave as he pointed out the core of the station itself. A useful landmark when getting around, even if it only helped with a vague sense of direction.<br/><br/>The entire station was dingy, smelled of the cloying pollution of the element zero mines still being harvested today, and seemed to be the evil twin of the Citadel. No plants or ‘natural’ lighting livened up the place. Instead, it was all neon lighting pushed between cramped structures. Where the Citadel represented the ‘best’ of the galaxy, Omega seemed to highlight desperation and the intergalactic constant: greed.<br/><br/>Gangs were as populace as the homeless, and it wasn’t uncommon to turn a corner to discover a dead body rotting in the pathway. Something to step over and around and not look back on.<br/><br/>But the Afterlife was a beacon, and like moths to a flame, people were winding their way towards the club even at this hour in the morning.<br/><br/>“Aria’s hold on Omega is absolute,” Brius answered Luus, shrugging his shoulders while the other turian gave their krogan prisoner an unnecessary shove forward. Pix was beginning to look nervous now, and his eyes began to flick to Ipako, then back to the club that loomed ahead of them. “She’s been established long enough that no one is stupid enough to try and dig up any roots. Those who think about it get a bullet in the brain if they're lucky.”<br/><br/>As the group approached they were ignored by the bouncer, and the cluster of batarians and a lone salarian acting as guards only nodded as the hanar continued to lead the others inside. While the music has slowly been building up with every step they took, the moment the doors slid open it pounded against ears and chest like a physical presence. They moved through the long tunnel with the stylized fire burning on the screens around them, then through another door that finally released the music to its fullest.<br/><br/>Even the hanar knew he couldn’t compete with the dance music that flooded the open room. He had stopped his history lessons and proceeded around the circular bar at its center and the dancers undulating on top. Bright lights, neon screens, and the press of bodies filled and assaulted the senses, but eventually, they made their way across the club to the back set of stairs that would take the group to their destination.<br/><br/>More guards greeted them here, and as was customary everyone was thoroughly searched. Only it seemed that it was more as a means to take inventory since no one was relinquished of their weapons.<br/><br/>Pix began to sweat.<br/><br/>Two flights of stairs led them to a more private corner of the club that overlooked it all. And in the center of this dais was an ‘L’ shaped couch where Aria sat awaiting them. She didn't look at the group until they were waved forward to climb the third and final set of stairs. Aria T'loak arched a brow, then narrowed her eyes as she looked at the prisoners, an unexpectedly familiar face intermixed with the expected one... and a salarian dressed in all black.<br/><br/>"And I thought I had the eclectic group. Trying to one-up me, Ash?"