The former Cerberus agent ran his fingers down the newly installed window, the same darkened tint and size as the one which he shattered a couple of days earlier. Callan forced himself to put in the final panel by himself, a few of his underlings assisting with the other ones. He'd knocked out the others one anyway, replacing the entire section with improved bulletproof glass. It wouldn't stop another desk or person being thrown through it, but he guessed he was thinking even more paranoid than before. If someone charged through the front doors gun blazing then they'd go for the large set of windows right in plain view. In another way it had served as an ample distraction from his encounter with Odette, a scene which had embedded itself in his mind ever since his former handler left. His soldiers said nothing to him of the incident, or even mentioned it. Their boss' temper was legendary within the gang, and each of them knew better than to potentially provoke the already agitated biotic. As he slide the last window into the frame the satisfying sound of a seamless fit. Callan tapped it three times with his knuckles, ensuring the placement before he reached for a canteen of water to his left. He wiped sweat from his brow, his plain grey t-shirt damped with stains from manual labor. As he sucked down the refreshing water he heard a beep emit from the wall panel at the top of his office's staircase. Callan approached it curiously, briefly wondering if it was Odette. As his eyes darted to scan the warehouse floor he did not see any sign of her, he would've noticed the hulking set of frontal doors coming open. The biotic pressed a finger to the switch, then heard the message from his underling at the other side of the door outside of his office. "Sir, Cearya Janiix has requested to meet outside of Afterlife. Said she's got a special weapons offer for us." The Salarian, Voston Zabeni stated. One of Callan's top lieutenants. "She knows how to reach me. She can't do it over that?" Callan replied, slight confusion in his voice. He wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to venture near Afterlife. It was also an ideal avenue to be ambushed, even if it Janiix had no apparent reason to try such a thing. The Void Angels paid the Asari arms dealer very well. "No, sir. She said over and over its something you just [i]have[/i] to see in person. Wouldn't take no for an answer." Zabeni stated, rolling his eyes mid-sentence at the merchant's insistence. "Fine. Tell Fausion and Kollek to get ready. They're backing me up in case things go south." Callan said, then stepped away from the intercom as he walked into his personal quarters. He heard the Salarian reply in what amounted to an 'affirmative' before he changed into his armor. A few moments later the now fully armed gang leader descended from his area with a gruff expression. Fausion and Kollek were leaned against the front door, weapons in hand as the biotic approached them. "No one will try anything around Afterlife, sir. Aria would have their head." The Turian, Fausion stated confidently as Kollek silently nodded. "I know. Keep your weapons holstered and follow my lead. Just watch my back, looking strong." Callan stated firmly, then stepped through the front door with both of his followers in tow. [hr] After a brief holocraft ride from the slums to the main sector of the space station the trio walked the streets of Omega cautiously. Around them merchants hollered their wares, while the strong smell of some roasted creature filled the air. Just barely enough to overwhelm the typical foul stenches of the markets. Beggars sat at the corners and streamed through the crowds, pleading endlessly for any credits or food. Far more often than not they were met with a cold shoulder, or more painfully a kick to the gut. Omega was the absolute last place he'd ever want to be a vagrant, especially as a human. Even clad in his armor with an escort duo of sturdy soldiers he still felt the harsh alien eyes upon him with every step. He'd often forget humanity was still a newcomer to galactic civilization, and the rise to prominence hadn't helped with the rough reception humans were often met with in the Terminus systems. Callan nearly trampled a child in front of him, clad in dirty clothes. "Please help me, they took my mom. I haven't seen her in days." The boy pleaded, cheeks red from tears as he stared up at Callan weakly. The vagrant youth's arrival caused Callan to stop, as both Fausion and Kollek glanced at each other with annoyance. "I'm sorry, try to find somewhere safe. This is no place for a child." Callan said, focusing on the reason he'd come to this part of Omega. He was not a heartless man, he did feel for the boy. Children were the most depressing thing he saw on the station, they were the most vulnerable and the weakest. He was briefly dragged back to the similar vagrant he'd seen on his first time on Omega, back when he was still a part of Cerberus. It was as tragic to think about now as it was when he saw the child all those years ago. The gang leader had to remain strong, and stepped past this present day beggar silently. "Please, I have nowhere to go!" Callan heard as he focused his walk, nearly pushing through the crowd. He forced himself to eject the very recent scene from his mind, pulling himself into his powerful gang lord mindset. There was no place for weakness here, or any future day. "Fucking beggars." He heard Kollek mumble behind him, the man's accent chirping through as Callan shook his head slightly. The trio pushed through the doorway, the bright lights of the central district of Omega coming into view. Coincidentally his least favorite part of the station. The slums were dangerous and unpredictable, but at least they were honest in their perils. It was somehow even louder than the slummier districts, the incessant crowd noises, the traffic and the music hammering through the walls of the various clubs, particularly Afterlife. It made him think once more of Odette, how little she enjoyed Omega when they were sent here five years ago. He'd bet she steered clear of the area this time around and he wouldn't have blamed her. He'd mulled over silently what she had said to him before she left, that she needed time. How panicked she'd gotten because of their encounter. Callan truthfully had no idea what would happen next between them, and that tore into him deeply. Uncertainty was the worst feeling.