Tom Carson drummed his fingers impatiently on the side of the lift as the doors slid open to the docking bay, revealing his home for the next while. Not the best looking ship he'd ever seen, but he knew full well that a ship didn't need to look good to fly like a gem. Carson crossed the landing bay, his large pack slung over one shoulder and his Mattock over the other. He climbed the ramp, wondering how they were gonna track down and kill a Spectre when the council didn't even believe that he was dirty. 

The message had come through on his omni-tool after he had completed a simple data intercept for his Cerberus handler, a man who he knew as Kosk. Since he knew that there wouldn't be any contact from Kosk for the next while, Carson had accepted. Gotta pay the bills somehow. 

Carson had left his apartment on the 37th Ward after packing his kitbag, heading for the ship.

He walked about the ship for a couple of minutes, checking some of the sights. He settled on the armoury as his berth. Setting his stuff down on the tabletop Carson went looking for his crewmates.

Carson had been looking for the captain for a couple of minutes when he walked into the medbay. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of a Turian holding a wicked looking blade to the throat of one of the crew. His Phalanx appeared in his hand as if by magic. The laser sight settled on the apparent attacker. 

“All right, Turian.” Carson spoke calmly. “I've barely had time to put my kitbag down in here. I've not met any of my team mates. And now a hostage situation? So far this mission is great. I don't know what the Hell your problem with her is, but I really think you should let her go. Talk it through.” The man held the Turian's gaze. “I have a lot of respect for your people, Turian. And I don't want to leave a corpse in the medbay before I've even met the captain of this fine vessel. But make no mistake. If you don't drop that blade of yours pretty damn quick, I'll plug you.”