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There was little stopping him from entering this "London Underground" a few derelict stations before. Mere police tape surrounding the entrance without a trace of law enforcement, the streets abandoned in their ruin. 

When Ja'Far descended downwards to the tunnel, he sung prayer to the Pillar of Guidance. Darkness, otherwise known as the lack of light, was the presumed version of "hell" in the Divine religion. For the all-seeing Batarians, lack of sight was a common fear. Khar'Shan is a harsh planet with the beating sun present almost all day so being wrapped in a midnight-like darkness was uncommon. And so, the ancient scribes and priests wrote about "hell", an eternally black pit where the weak became weaker and the souls of sinners were left to wander. Those who only lived in luxury or did not have the all-seeing eyes of the Batarians were doomed to the cruelty of loneliness and darkness. 

The whisper of prayer flew from his lips, the darkness of the tunnel testing his nerves of steel [color=olive][i]"Pillar of the Divine Guidance, I prithee that thou grant me blessing and thus light my way. Henceforth, I ask of thee that thine grant the unholy trinity of eyes of mine a blessing of guidance. O Holy omnipotent Pillar, I ask of ever-present favour as I descend into depths unknown. I pray, O hateful one, that my previous sufferings and cruelties done to my person has given me salvation in thy holy eyes. Amen."[/i][/color]

There were some rumours of Husks stuck within primitive tunnels and abandoned streets, those who were left behind wandering aimlessly, beings without drive nor directive. The former Legionnaire hadn't encountered one yet but he couldn't count on his luck. He wore his black hardsuit, a sleek fuse of hardened fabric and metals. State of the art tech, at least in Batarian terms. This usually meant that it was severely out of date in galactic terms but the thing has saved him from injury before. On occasion. More modern light plate armour covered his torso and left shoulder, the whirring of his kinetic shields silenced by sound dampeners. His shiny new Incisor hung on his back.

Ja'Far trudged through the murky water, boots slick with mud. The way was illuminated in his helmet by a green luminous light. He silently gripped his pistol harder with both hands, the sounds of his feet quietly parting the water and rats scurrying in front of him being his only companion. The tunnel had flooded with sewage from the old drains, broken bricks and shattered rusty pipes homage Battle of Earth.

The Batarian, fully covered in armour that made him look human from afar, grumbled. His trusty Batarian State Arms rifle couldn't be allowed in any type of Citadel Space and with the measly amount of credits he had, he couldn't afford to pay off officials and pay for the trip to Earth at the same time. He had sold it to a gun collecting Volus, a peculiar fellow who had given him a hefty amount for old Becky. The former Legionnaire gave a tearful goodbye and bought a newer, and as he believed, inferior Incisor.

He had, mostly out of habit, picked the rifle apart repeatedly, cleaning it vigorously every night he's been here on Earth. He learned it's functions, it's kinks and even fired it down range a couple times but it hadn't been tested in battle yet. It hadn't earned its place yet and that was one of the reasons he couldn't fully trust it. There was many occasions during his time as the resident Hegemony boogeyman that his team was equipped by experimental new tech. It usually resulted in malfunction and thus mission failure. There were usually little casualties in his squad but he distrusted modern technology all the same.

Ja'Far peered through the green night vision, a bright light shining up ahead. He replayed the message he received on his Omni-tool, inviting him to this specific place at this time. Intrigue and sheer boredom led him to going, common sense be damned.

The former Hegemony soldier neared the old Baker Station. The meeting place for their little group of misfits, a taskforce he joined out of sheer boredom and resignation. Ja'Far walked into the light silently, going mostly unnoticed, pistol stowed away cautiously as he hopped up on to the platform. He had taken an alternate route for a reason, realising that a more direct one would result in confrontations with those he would be working with in the future. He preferred an approach of solitude rather than entering an illegal area with a large group of people. He sensed tension that he could not be bothered to break amongst the group. He did not announce himself, a vaguely humanoid figure emerging from the dark tunnels.

Ja'Far opened his mask, revealing the unholy trinity of eyes he possessed as he stared at the idiot screaming threats and the various peoples within the metro. [color=olive][b]"I prithee that thou may lower thine voice for our position may be found if thou shouts loud enough. Everyone here is, at present, friendly. I presume that most cometh hither due to a message received, besought to come here."[/b][/color] Everyone would hear the increasing exasperation in his voice as he proceeded to scratch his fringe, already exhausted.