"Hey, don't fucking blame me, it's certainly not like I built the geths myself!" Simbel looked at the passenger seat, annoyed behind the glass of his mask, at his friend and colleague Francis (Tall, kinda chubby with short brown hairs forming a wave on his head). This whole fucking Eden Prime business was ridiculous. "I know, but you did say 'It's stupid to fear the geth' that time a week back." And he rested his case, his entire history class was basically not the story of the Quarians but that of the geth. They hadn't attacked anything out of the Veil since their creation so why attack an agricultural world in the middle of nowhere, a colonial outpost of humans which they had never even encountered before at that. But the thing that bugged him the most was that there was no strategic advantage to be gained, Simbel knew for a fact that if geth attacked, they'd aim to be efficient and would have gone for the mineral rich and industrial worlds in one fell swoop. 

"Yes, and I still think this is fucking retarded for them to just attack like this, for no reason. Even the most basic chess VI isn't that stupid." Francis sighed before closing his eyes for a few seconds to then turn his head toward Simbel. "Ok, I'm sorry, I'm over reacting... It's just, I'm still a reservist, and you bet I don't want to be called back to Earth to fight a war." Simbel shrugged as he pulled over to his location. "So don't. What can the alliance do if you're not in human space?" They landed and Simbel opened the door of the shuttle before looking at Francis who just smiled apologetically to him. "I don't think you can understand Simbel." Well. At least he didn't give him the patriotism speech. Ooooh he implied it alright, but at least he didn't say it. Simbel left the cab and closed the door behind him. No, fuck that guy! He thought, as he entered the bar, can't let this ruin his mood.

He felt his energy come back to him but that only lasted for a moment. "You have to buy to stay in this establishment, suit rat." Simbel stopped in his track before turning himself toward the bouncer... and raising his head to be able to look at him in the eyes. Well, he'd have wanted to smack him for his impudence, but, well, that was a krogan. Simbel might have a uber powerful robot arm capable of snapping a Turian's neck, he couldn't do shit against that meat loaf. Well, nothing that wouldn't get him charged of murder by C-Sec. "Yeah. That's usually the case." Simbel tried to casually brush him off like so and continue in the bar. Still, he hoped the krogan wouldn't stop him further, he didn't want to humiliate himself by showing his credit acount or have to bribe him. Still, playing it cool and confident worked nicely. As the humans called it, 'Bavarian Fire Drill', act like what you're doing is completely normal and people tended to follow.

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"I'll take that, thaaaaank you!" The Salarian muttered under his breath, calling him a cheater. With reason actually, Simbel's VI was counting the cards and the odds as well as analyzing the facial expression of everyone on the table... well, of the Salarian. The Volus was genuinely talented and was also masked, so Simbel couldn't use his tech against him. Too bad the Volus didn't use one of these electronic glasses to correct his sight, Simbel could have had hacked this to see his cards if he had. That was the moment however when he saw that Turian Gal enter. It was suspicious, she was the only one with some form of combat gear here, plus from the looseness near her hips and underarm he could tell she was a scoundrel, he knew the old smuggling trick too. But really what was the most obvious was that Simbel was using facial recognition and searching the extranet for everyone who entered the bar and she had nothing. The mark of someone competent was not to leave a trace, but here where everyone broadcasted their lives on the social networks? It was a give away. "Alright, that's it for tonight, it's been fun gentlemen."

Simbel looked at the Turian some more as he went to buy dextro fish sticks at the counter and a drink. No confirmed C-Sec file either for her face, although earlier today images of a Turian girl with identical clothes had been taken during a chase for drug consummation, but it was only a picture of a backside. Had to be someone gunning for the same contract he was, at least he hopped. She looked more competent than any one in the bar at the moment and hell, Turian ass made any mission at least 33% more enjoyable. With his fish sticks (Paid by the money of the bouncer, fucking asshat), Simbel went to her table.

Arriving next to it, Simbel unceremonously placed the plate at the middle of the table, revealing himself to her. Simbel had no idea who the woman was, but the reverse might not be true. On Omega where was only 4 independent gunship pilots and of them, only one Quarian which had gotten himself somewhat if a reputation. "Hello miss. I don't suppose you'd know about that Turian ass, would you?" Smirking behind his helmet, he showed Sicari a picture of her own back with his omnitool, shining a cyan light over the table. "C-Sec would want to get their hands all over it. I guess I wouldn't mind either though." He snickered before slowly sitting in front of her. "Though, all admiration of your lower body aside... I'm going to guess you're here for the same reason that I am... At least I hope that you are, would be pretty sad if you're not, considering you're the only thing that looks half capable here..." He lowered his eyes on the plate at the middle of the table and took a stick. Moving it a few centimeter toward him, he stopped his movement to look up to Sicari. He extended the fried thing toward her. "Fish stick?"