Unexpected help

Michelle, as she would now be known, was pretty happy. The cleanup crew was done with the new apartment, the new charity was registered, she had an excellent contact with the Taseyri shelter, and hopefully would have her own skycar parking space pretty soon.
She was going to take it slow though. She was NOT a trained social worker, whatever her cover said, so she needed to tread carefully if she didn't want her cover to be blown away. Yeah, just taking it...
The door chimed. Someone rang outside. Who the hell could that be?

"So this is fucking it, 'Leaving the Ducts."

A lean, hard looking man stood outside the entranceway to a sleazy apartment complex on Tasyeri ward. Wearing baggy black work pants, dark grey t-shirt and a crimson hoody, he managed to blend with the crowd and avoid any distractions, even with the two guards escorting him. Ever since leaving the Picasso they had avoided eye contact, hoping to be rid of the prisoner once and for all. Slowly making his way to the main entrance, his dark grey eyes scanning the area, places to come and go, escape routes, the knowledge of an inner city, whether it be North Portland, Joughin, or even the fucking Citadel, the process was the same. "Find the ins and outs", thinking to himself as he reached the floor that this new charity resided. Despite the new surroundings, stiff conditions of his punishment, and distaste for Alliance authority; which the two marines escorting him embodied, it felt good to be off that fucking carrier.


Ringing the buzzer, the young man spoke into the intercom, "Julian Snow, I'm here to see the person in charge."

Michelle opened the door, smile on her face as usual. The smile kind of froze when she found herself face to face with a particularly somber looking convict, escorted by two Alliance marines.

"Hu well that would be, Michelle Rondor, what's it about now?"

Bintar what the FUCK did you do now?

"Ma'am, the Alliance rep has reviewed your paperwork regarding your charity, and has decided to give you additional support in exchange for a small service."

The jarhead pushed Snow forward, the young man still cuffed as a precaution. The second marine stepped forward, "We just need your electronic sig, then we can sign the prisoner over to your custody", looking over at the sullen prisoner with a mixture of anger and disgust. "The hovercar you requested will be delivered here tomorrow."

As he talked, Snow looked up at the charity worker, his dead eyes meeting hers for a moment before looking back at the window, his posture relaxed yet menacing, like a predator waiting for the moment to strike as the marine next to him shifted forward, to forestall any stupidity on the prisoner's part.

Completely shocked Michelle signed the omnitool presented before her. She then snapped back to reality.
"Right... Wait what? Listen guys, it's very nice, but I only asked for a parking space, not for a..."

Michelle then mouthed "CONVICT" to the guards. Then smiled awkwardly to Julian.

"Hey, if you have a fucking problem with me, just say it. Don't try to be cute",

Snow's voice broke in, yet his posture and demeanor remained unchanged. The jarhead guarding the prisoner yanked him back to ensure Michelle's safety as the other marine sighed, "look ma'am, we were just sent to sign over custody, if you want him gone, take it up with admin. But if you take Julian Snow on as part of your charity, I imagine future requests will be given...proper attention."

No Michele was feeling a little bad, she just offended the poor and incredibly threatening guy.

"Right, listen I'm sorry."
She was.

"I'm just a bit surprised."
She really was.

"I'm happy to get some help really."
she wasn't.

Michelle pondered ask the marines to take Julian back, but it would look bad on her, on the charity, and first objective was to keep a low profile. Plus she could use him maybe, he looked like he could take care of himself, and wards could be a dangerous place.

Yeah let's make this work

"Alright gentlemen, thank you, and mister Snow, welcome to Leaving the Ducts. Anyone want some refreshments?"

She moved aside, allowing them to enter the brand new charity if they wanted to.

"No thank you Ma'am, we have to return to our posts", the guard responded automatically as he began to uncuff Snow, the other marine watching warily as the cuffs were undone. The prisoner looking down at his newly freed hands, rubbing his wrists. As the two marines departed the spokesman turned to the motherly looking woman,

A word of advice ma'am, keep an eye on this bastard. He hospitalised four marines on Benning and managed to infiltrate a secured crashsite on Thessia. He may work for you, but I doubt it ma'am."

With those last words, they left, leaving Julian Snow and Michelle Rondor in the hallway facing each other.

Hearing that Michelle did a little "meep!" noise. She was now alone with Julian Snow. Ho well.

"Well please come in, have a refreshment, don't kill me... Would you care telling me a little about yourself?"

"Just water Miss", Snow whispered, relaxing slightly now that the goon squad departed, his left hand idly rubbing the calloused knuckles on his right as he followed the fluffy woman inside. Even for a so-called slum, the clean nature of the apt seemed rather fitting for the citadel. He made sure to maintain a respectful distance, noting her discomfort. "Funny, out of all the people here, I'm the only one not armed", thinking as he stopped by a wall in the common area, leaning back,

"So, what is this place, and what do you hope to do?"

"As for who I am, I'm just a wildcat salvager paying my 'debt to society', whatever the fuck that means."

Michelle poured some water for Snow and a tabra juice for herself. She was getting a taste for Asari food and drinks. She was relieved to see that Julian was actually less threatening without his escort. His answer was cryptic at best, it was an answer.

She gestured him to sit and sat in front of him, taking a sip of her juice before starting talking.

"As you have guessed by the name of this charity, we're here to help duct rats. Their condition was already unacceptable before the war, but with the influx of orphans their number greatly grew. They are by the thousands in the whole citadel, living in terribly dangerous condition, and either dying or getting recruited more or less forcibly by the gangs when they grow up.
We're not a shelter. This role in Taseyri is already taken care of by a catholic shelter not far from here. We'll be working closely with them. The shelter caters their basic needs, a roof and food. Our job is to help them become productive citizens.
After the war there are jobs for everyone, they just need schooling, counseling and training. That's us."

Michelle took another sip. Snow could notice that her aloof behavior was gone when she was talking of the job, she was serious and focused.

"This won't be easy. The duct rats can be violent themselves. The gangs who don't want them to become happy citizens out of their reach certainly will become violent if we're successful."

Another sip.

"I really could use someone who can take care of himself. Who can protect us and protect them. Someone who didn't live a pampered life and that know a little what's getting served a giant shit sandwich by life means, and may actually reach those kids."

Michelle looked straight into Julian's eyes.

"Do you think you can be that man Mister Snow?"

Sipping the water, Snow listened to Mrs. Rondor as she described her ambition to create a vocational school in the ass end of Taseryi ward, of all things. Some would call it brave, others would call it a lost cause. Snow didn't know or care about the social reform issues, but he did know that a motherly sort would get chewed up by some gangs in his old hometown, no matter how good the intentions, and if she thought the Citadel would be more forgiving, Mrs. Rondor would be mistaken. As Mrs. Rondor finished, the ex-salvager perked up at her mention of security, the meaning was fucking obvious, "use a thug to warn off another", thinking to himself as he finished the glass, letting his gaze meet Mrs. Rondor's.

"Well, I kind of guessed that was your plan, judging by the name of this place. As for the 'thousands', think more like 10000 of the little bastards running around the Citadel, at least. And the rats that belong to a gang or a crew, the leaders are most likely former rats themselves, maybe even survivors of the Battle for Earth."

Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, Snow remembered his days running data for the Dekum St. Crew, thinking that the Citadel duct rats followed a similar structure.

If you plan on doing this...you'll need to find out who the players are among the duct rats. Because if you just try to take them off the streets, it will get ugly. I can provide some assistance in terms of security, but if you push too hard too soon, it won't matter who's watching your back. Because make no mistake, we will be fucking with some gangster's revenue flow. No matter what you decide, I'll roll with it."

Julian Snow finished, reflecting on what Mrs Rondor said about needing someone from the wrong side of the tracks. This fluffy do-gooder was sharp, pegging Snow as a former gang member and stating the inevitable backlash. For better or worse, the ex-salvager was intrigued by the idea of fucking with the status quo, a grim smile starting to form,

"You have my undivided attention Miss."

Michelle smiled. She remembered an advice Bintar gave her. "There will be plenty of unexpected things happening, things that don't go with your plans. Most people fight them to turn them back to normal. Don't do that, roll with them, use them, turn them to your advantage."
It showed to actually be good advice. Snow could be the difference between her helping kids and just as importantly keeping Bintar happy, or death by gang.

"I'm extremely happy to hear it. Do you have experience with the gangs?"

"You meant to ask 'were you in a gang?' Yeah, until I was caught joyriding at fifteen, I was part of the DSC. Small time posse in NE Portland.

Snow lost the smile soon as the fluffy social worker asked, it wasn't the question that bugged him, it was that she had already guessed. Mrs. Rondor was testing the waters, just like Elgin on Benning. She was determining his utility, and had done so with one innocent query. "No sense in hiding", he thought as he crossed his arms, his posture slightly more guarded.

"I was mostly involved in B&E, data running, and diversions. Before my bust I was officially made a full member, but was sent away before I could really begin dealing and...battling for turf."

"This is excellent! I will defer to you entirely in all matters of security, for us and the kids, if you're up for it. I will also need you for when it'll be time to go down on the street to see them. Not as a gorilla mind you, although that eye thing that you do will certainly prove a wonderful dissuasion for troublemakers, but also because as I said I need someone who had it rough.
Someone who can reach them.

Mister Snow when you came through those doors you were a convict that the Alliance had dumped on me for some reason. After seeing all this I see that you may be invaluable in making this endeavor successful, so I'd like to say..."

She held her hand in front of her.

"You're hired."

"Eye thing? It's the way I normally look", Snow replied, his soft whisper making it clear to Mrs Rondor, drop it.

I did have one question, with the renovations and clean up in this...vocational center, did you get Alliance funding, or is this a private thing. I just ask because I did the Alliance's bitch work on Benning, can't say I liked it..."

His voice trailing off, for the first time during their encounter, Julian Snow exhibited an emotion, faint anger tinged with disdain. But he was sent here by court order, and like it or not, the lean young man would have to make the most of it.

"In any event Mrs Rondor, thanks", Snow extended his hand in return, his calloused one taking hers in a brief, yet firm handshake.

Michelle had learned quite a bit from her faux pas. Snow was reasonable, but required her not to treat him as a joke. She certainly wouldn't.

"No no Alliance funding, this is private. Although apparently now the Alliance owes us one, which is always nice.
For today Mr Snow I will require you to look for living arrangements. You will have a salary, 1100 creds a month, which is the minimum wage I believe. You will work 35h a week, extra hours will be recuperated not paid. Depending on how things evolve a risk premium may be considered.
I will see you tomorrow at 9am here, you'll help me prepare the office and the project, and we'll hopefully meet our first volunteer.
Works for you?"

A salary, even if minimum wage this was unusual. Snow thought for a moment, wondering how a new charity could afford it, but he pushed the thought from his head, this was a job that didn't require him to clean streets, kowtow to the Alliance, or travel to the ass end of Thessia on a wild goose chase,


"This past year taught me one thing Mrs Rondor, I have to be realistic. Vey well, I agree to the terms, I now have to see a man about an omnitool."

Nodding to Mrs. 'whiskers' Rondor, Julian Snow left the apt quietly, once hitting the streets, he lost himself in the crowd headed for mass transit, just another drone in the wards.

Fin