One by one, the contacts filed into the room – far more than Tanya had anticipated. Outwardly, she was calm, even aloof; but inside, her heart was pounding and there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was never one for public speaking, and in this case, it was more like trying to sell a seemingly suicidal idea to a bunch of strangers who were, for the most part, far more lethal individuals than she ever was. As ever, Kosso’s presence was more than reassuring. Back on Tyrus, she was happiest tucked away in her own corner of the cargo hold, listening to music no one else on the ship could tolerate while buried in the guts of some machine, not a leader or socialite. 
Sure, there were times where the Systems Alliance marine reared her head to take charge, especially if she was the only one with the technical knowhow to accomplish something, but this was another beast entirely. 

The fact that anyone showed up, let alone filled almost all of the anticipated seats, surprised her. It was a confirmation of sorts that she was doing the right thing, and if a bunch of backwards bastards on the run from whatever law the galaxy could throw at them decided to at least entertain the idea of pooling their expertise to ensure they could continue business as usual instead of being slotted in the back of the head or thrown in prison, and that was enough for her. 

She studied the people coming in, putting names to faces from the data her and Kosso obtained from Administrator Var’uuk and their own database stolen from the information heist on Kahje two years ago. She caught the nod from the Slavic man, Iosif, and returned it in an equally affable manner. The man was a career pilot of small craft, gunships, mainly, but he was also a likely candidate for a backup pilot on any interstellar ship they came across – it wasn’t as if they’d be commandeering a large military vessel like a cruiser with a handful of disgruntled criminals. The man also had a rather foul experience at the hands of batarian slavers, if the news reports were to be believed. Push come to shove, if the batarians couldn’t be trusted, he’d at least be a sure gun on her side. She wasn’t above planning for the worst.

Ah, there was Mark. Tanya and Kosso’s former colleague looked as unimpressed as ever. She raised an eyebrow at the older man. “And you haven’t punched anyone and it’s been 15 seconds already. You must have taken up meditation in the past couple years.” Tanya smirked at her old comrade, as short lived as it was. “I’m proud of you for such Zen disposition, Mark. Your Cro Magnon ancestors would be proud.”

The next to catch her eye was one of the batarian assholes, Kesik. Their eyes met, his face an unreadable mask but an almost invisible cant of his head to his right wasn’t lost on Tanya. She made a very conscious effort not to over exaggerate a tilt of her own head down to her right shoulder to tell him to go fuck himself. [I]See Kosso, I can be culturally sensitive, too.[/I] she thought, before dismissing the thought. Despite her vocal protests against having batarians invited to this meeting, Tanya had an ulterior motive; she really wanted to be able to look them in the eyes and not see monsters that killed little girls for a change, and working with them was possibly one of the only ways to accomplish that Herculean feat. She didn’t know much about either of the batarians other than their skills came highly recommend on the market and Kesik was very likely a wanted slaver; he likely was going to like her plan the least of anyone in the room, but she was determined to go into this the same way as she went into Nova. [I]Everyone gets a clean slate. The past doesn’t fucking matter.[/I] she reminded herself, hoping repeating that mantra enough would erase some of the stains of their presence. However, Kesik wasn’t the one Tanya was most concerned with.

That would be Voluk; there was no doubt in Tanya’s mind where he learned his skills. She caught the batarian’s eyes wandering around the room, leering predatorily at the various people seated around the room, as if sizing them up. It wasn’t a look of aggression that filled his eyes, as far as she could tell. It was almost a hunger, years of experience condensing people into commodities instead of living, thinking people who lived lives and had families. She felt the familiar pang of panic creep up her spine as memories of Mindoir started to creep back, but she forced herself to focus elsewhere. The batarian would be an asset or she would be rid of him, one way or another. The ghosts of the past need not be disturbed again, and Tanya needed muscle for this mission, people who weren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty and being strong enough to punch above their weight. While Tanya doubted Voluk earned his skill and reputation by anything other than slaving, they were indeed skills she could use. And who could say? Maybe spending time working with aliens instead of trapping them in nets and selling them in auctions would change his ways. The Terra Nova native chose to believe that Voluk’s shitty life choices were due to the batarian Hegemony’s relentless propaganda and inflexible caste system more so than him actively enjoying the suffering of others. Time would tell, and Tanya was determined not to fuck this up by letting her trauma dictate her choices going forward. 

The next to catch her attention was the salarian, Jaerdi Longassname. Like most salarians, whose culture dictated that your full name must include everything from what galactic cluster you were born in to the make of your first sky car and where you lost your virginity, Jaerdi struck Tanya as a sharp-witted man who didn’t dwell on the past and viewed any carnage they may have cost with little more thought than winning a few credits on a Quazar machine. The salarian was a well-dressed guy, obviously acquainted to high-income tastes, and if the dossier she had in front of her could be believed, the guy was a hell of a hitman who got around. If Siame Industries had someone who needed to go missing, Jaerdi would be exactly the kind of guy who proves you get what you pay for with security. This was a small team, and everyone had to punch way above their weight to make a dent against the looming leviathan that Rebekha Gaela spent the last several centuries amassing. She could see the salarian as an individual that needed very little to keep him content.

Also in the strong arm category was Henrik Andersson, the great bearded wonder. Looking somehow more unkempt than Mark’s caveman façade was the Earthborn Swede who would look just as at home in a men’s fashion magazine or a cardboard box on the streets. It was funny how a change of clothes could make someone either look alluring or repugnant. He was one of the easier dossiers to put together, and nearly all of his employers seemed to have glowing recommendations for the man for his unflinching ability to get shit done, even if his moniker of The Enforcer seemed better suited for one of those masked wrestling leagues more so than a hardened gun-for-hire. He wasn’t ex-military, so his training was rather unorthodox, forged mainly through experience than training. The guy likely wasn’t afraid to do some rather morally grey shit that would make most career soldiers balk. You don’t survive decades in the mercenary business by being meek or dumb. Nobody sitting in the room fit that description; the dipshits didn’t last long after the crackdown following the Skyllian Blitz.

Rounding out the table were the quarians, Loral’Zanis and Kali’Zael, both selected for their specialized expertise and partially because of Tanya’s fondess for quarian ingenuity and adaptability. Past Kosso and Roland, one of the only members of Nova that Tanya had a fondness bordering on friendship with was the quarian Tzvi‘Nahal nar Neda, or just Savvy to Tanya. Most quarians Tanya encountered were honest, hardworking people dealing with one of the shortest sticks in the galaxy and somehow making it work. Loral was a couple years younger than Tanya, but somehow he came across in her mind as a much older and composed gentleman who apparently fucked up bad enough to eat an exile. However, the man had ample experience in the medicine field and given what the group would soon be doing was bound to result in a few wounds here and there. The fact he had worked on alien ships as a medical officer was a boon; he was familiar with physiology past quarians, and being quarian, he was likely obsessed with sterilization and cleanliness. He wouldn’t get much of a chance of that if he was needed as a field medic, which was a likely possibility. Tanya knew all quarians went through combat training before departing on their pilgrimage, so it was a matter of seeing how much Loral remembered. 

The other quarian, Kali, was perhaps the least likely person to be in this room – as far as Tanya could tell, the girl had no criminal record and she appeared quite uneasy in present company, something Tanya could tell in her subtle shift in body language she had picked up on serving with quarians in the past. There wasn’t much on her other than she lived quietly and unassumingly in a somewhat respectable apartment in Omega and not a single shred of evidence could be found on her doing anything even bordering illegal. Either she was the most low-key criminal in the galaxy, or she had some other motive for wanting to get some payback on Siame Industries, and whatever that could be eluded Tanya entirely. However, it was her skill with technology that mattered to Tanya, not her reasons for latching onto a stray signal looking for a crew to strike back against the miserable SI bastards. Whether or not she’d be out of her league remained to be seen, but one didn’t tend to survive on Omega without being a little bit prepared to be exposed to the rougher edges of the galaxy.

Also hailing from Omega was the turian hacker, who operated from the handle of Sleuth. The decrepit-looking turian fancied himself an affordable information broker and from all accounts, there wasn’t many systems he couldn’t break into without a little time and patience. Aran Nykerius wasn’t very formidable looking, his body misshapen in a cruel way that no turian woman would likely find attractive. However, there was an intense intelligence in the man’s pale eyes, and looking at him was enough to convince Tanya that the man was already running dozens of thoughts through his mind about his new surroundings and the people around him. While Tanya was an adept hacker in her own right, her personal field of expertise was as a mechanical engineer, building and repairing tangible machines. Men like Sleuth, by all accounts, took it to a whole new level. The fact the man was not ashamed of his physical frailty was somewhat endearing; the man knew his limits and wouldn’t let pride get in the way. 

An enigma in the group was a drell woman named Daryna who had a curious blue hue to her complexion Tanya had rarely seen in a drell before. What made her stand out was her reputedly astounding biotic abilities, including the quite uncommon ability to manipulate people’s minds. [I]If I had her talents, I wouldn’t have been stuck in half the jams I’ve been in.[/I] Tanya thought, reflecting on the times that she had to bullshit her way through a checkpoint, through an inspection, or in the worst scenarios, shoot her way out. It kind of creeped her out that Daryna was capable of entering somebody’s mind and controlling them like a puppet, almost to the extent that the batarians sitting across from her did. However, the drell had a reputation as a thief, which meant solid infiltration abilities and her biotic abilities would give the team a much needed edge in combat. Tanya’s gaze lingered on the girl a bit longer, noticing how distinctly uncomfortable the girl looked; it wasn’t unlike the younger quarian, Kali. Tanya wondered how much real danger either of them had been in, but she could definitely understand where their unease came from. There were some seriously hard men and women in the room.

Perhaps one of the most important figures to Tanya and Kosso’s plot was Saseen V’Nalas, the asari biotic who had a history in piracy and commanding ships. While both former Nova crewmembers could fumble their way through a turian frigate’s controls, most of Tyrus’ flying was handled by the VI, Captain. She spent her career navigating the galaxy, running the ins and out of a starship, knowing how to intercept merchant vessels and avoid the various militaries and mercenaries that huntered her. The asari woman experienced far more years plying her trade than the vast majority of the others in the room, with the exceptions of a few krogan and asari who filled out a few more of the 25 seats in the room, along with a few more humans and other aliens of various skills. She mainly seemed to be here on account of no longer having a ship. It was mainly because of her that Tanya was certain that the first phase of the plan would work.

Tanya sighed and rose from her seat, holding a hand over a balled fist to keep herself from fidgeting overly much as she addressed the group assembled in the room. It was time.

“The Galaxy’s always been a dangerous place, full of opportunity, adventure, credits and purpose for those of the mind to look for it. The people gathered here today, the only thing we share is skirting galactic law and the fact that some asshole with a lot more money than any of us wants us dead. So shall we get started, or do you want to wait until more of us wind up dead before deciding we should do something about it?” She asked as a way of introduction, not bothering to butter up the assembled crowd. She had a feeling they responded more to action and decisiveness than sweet words. Her grey eyes scanned the various faces in the room, perhaps skimming over the batarians a bit more quickly than the others. “Everyone here is here because they have a bone to pick with our dear friends, Siame Industries, unless of course you’re here for that swinger’s convention, which is the next hall over.” Tanya said, only half joking. There actually was a speed dating group set up in the next hall over. 

“For the rest of you, what I’m about to propose probably won’t sit well with people who need to plan things out days in advance, because in a bit less than three hours Siame Industries is going to be here looking to apprehend this guy,” Tanya said, pointing at Kesik. “Based on an anonymous tip. They’re under the impression he’s here alone, laying low, and after seeing how Siame Industries usually handles individuals in controlled stations, they’re going to be most likely landing with a single small ship, most likely a Corvette, and flaunt a warrant for so and so’s arrest. It would be boring if it didn’t mean we all didn’t know somebody who got grabbed like that. Ladies and gentlemen, I propose we steal that fucking ship.” Tanya said, leaving her position at the “end” of the table and she made a show of walking around the table. She activated her omni-tool and the room’s projector came to life, the lights in the room dimming simultaneously. Floating in a ghostly orange was a three-dimensional layout of the station, which was soon expanded to focus primarily on the hanger. 

“Kosso and I had to sell our ship to get cooperation with Administrator Var’uuk, who hates the Siame bastards as much as us. He’s the one who informed them that Kesik, the batarian sitting over there,” she gestured again with her hand, making sure everyone got a good look at him. “Was seeking refuge at the station. Since Cartagena Station’s in a rather lawless corner of the galaxy and takes perverse pride in their discount brand C-Sec called Cartagena Patrol, they’ve been very reluctant to let Siame Industries have a presence in the Nymean Abyss. Sure, this station gets hit by pirates something like every other week, but don’t tell C-Pat that. They’d sooner let a gunfight erupt in the station than let Siame Industries muscle them out of a job. And that’s rather what I’m counting on, and it’s why we called you all here.

“And so, we come around to why each of you were contacted. Some of you have obvious combat skills, which are necessary going toe to toe with professional mercenaries, especially if we want a chance of even making it off this fucking station, let alone trimming branches off SI like the galaxy’s most pain in the ass houseplant. Some of you are tech expects that I’m told can get into any system devised, others have experience infiltrating undercover, and a select few of you have experience with ships. Look around you; chances are, the person next to you is a master of his or her craft and is goddamn good at what they do. Kosso and myself? We’re smugglers, part-time bounty hunters, and former mercs for hire that pulled off some pretty crazy shit that pissed off a lot of the wrong people in our days. We know how to sneak around the galaxy and avoid the heavy-handed shit we’ve seen Siame pull off so far, and I’ve lost count of the amount of blockades we’ve run. You lot come with us, and we just may get places.” She said, glancing at the quarians as she passed. 

A few more taps of the omni-tool and a few locations on the station’s schematics lit up. “But we can’t plot our little revenge fantasy out unless we get off this station. We’re going to need a variety of skills to pull this shit off. First, when the SI ship docks, we need somebody to access the station’s lockdown systems and keep that ship from leaving if shit goes South in a hurry, likewise, we need to intercept any incoming our outgoing communications from the ship; SI ships rarely travel alone, and I’m willing to bet no small amount of credits there’ll be at least two support ships keeping watch in case something goes wrong, like a bunch of assholes stealing their multi-million dollar vessel. Our success depends on being able to keep the other ships in the dark until we can make a clean break for the nearest Mass Relay. If we pull that off, then that’s when we can start getting really naughty. 

“What you see highlighted on the schematics is Administrator Var’uun’s office and C-Pat headquarters; it would be in our interest to try and discourage him from reacting… negatively to what we’re about to pull off. He knows a bunch of people are planning on moving against Siame Industries, but he isn’t quite aware that it might well lead to a shootout in the hanger. To keep C-Pat from interfering, we should have access to the hanger from the rest of the station isolated, so someone who’s skilled in tech needs to handle that, otherwise we’re going to risk getting in a fight with C-Pat and whoever the SI landing party is. Not good odds and I plan on living to see another day. 

“For those of us not batting eyelashes at an over entitled administrator I just sold my piece of shit ship to for information and a few credits, keeping discount C-Sec from piling on us, or keeping our new ship from getting away from our grabby hands will be in the hanger. Our guest of honour, Kesik, is going to play the role of a captured bounty and will be awaiting turn over to the SI guards with two of his,” Tanya made exaggerated quotation fingers, “’Captors.’ Once SI’s mooks are out and the ship has communications isolated and is locked down, the rest of the assholes pretending they’re uninterested loiterers spring into action, neutralize the SI agents, and we storm the ship, taking it by any means necessary. We get our pilot to the cockpit, set a course, and recall anyone not aboard the ship to hurry their asses aboard. If everyone does their jobs right, none of us gets hurt, we get a new shiny ship and with it, the coordinates of several Siame Industries assets, key personnel, and the ability to plan to be a few steps ahead of the bastards for a change. Let’s see how they like being fucked for a change.” Tanya grinned. “So, do I have your interest?”

She returned to her seat, propping her boots up on the table. She noticed a few of the seats that were previously occupied, the occupants clearly not a fan of her pitch. Those who remained, however, at least were entertaining the idea. It was a start. “I see a few of you aren’t cowardly shits, that’s good, because we’re all about to embark on something incredibly stupid that’s going to likely have a big, fat target painted on all of our backs. But fuck it; I’m tired of running, and I’m tired of fighting with you guys while we all have a mutual enemy that wants our heads on a spike. Either we keep doing things as we have been, or we set our shit aside and get this done. If any of you lot who are interested in joining this little venture have anything to add, now’s the time to do it, because we only have a couple of hours to set up, get our belongings ready to go in the hanger, and give Siame Industries one hell of a welcoming party.” Tanya looked over at Kosso. “Anything I missed?” she asked.