[Cartagena Station] The last hour is the hardest (Closed?)

"Last job for this damn charity, then I'm a free man", was the single thought that dominated Julian Snow's mind the entire trip into the terminus systems. Sitting in his seat on the transport he thought about the year on the Citadel, a year of blood, broken bones and truths realized. Snow learned that he didn't belong on the damn Citadel, or anywhere the damn Alliance had sunk their hooks. The terminus was full of wildcat colonies though, places where a monster like him could disappear, begin again, but he had one last job for the fat snake Miss Rondor. And with his luck, it was one of the worst places to be if you didn't have credits, guns or connections; the Nemean Abyss.

In the mind of Snow, the Abyss was just your typical no holds barred shithole. Mercenary Police Force, check. A get rich or die trying mindset, check. A place where everything is for sale, including shit most people wouldn't even dream of buying or selling, check. Cartagena Station was a nexus station, all roads in the terminus eventually came through Cartagena, just like Illium and Omega. Hearing the ship's VI tell the passengers that their ship was beginning final docking proceedures, Snow nudged his fluffy soon to be ex-employer. "We're here, though if you're smart, you'd just find the next ship off this shithole." The Red Hood's words soft but with a raspy bite as he pulled on his coat, the ex-convict's posture still a bit edgy due to the drell asshole client stealing his blade.

"So boss, you want to pay the deductible, or do I have to?" Snow gesturing towards the dock visible by porthole, if the Cartagena Station authorities were like any racket he came across, they needed reassurances along with a cut of all transactions just to keep business going. The red hood wanted to save his credits, but if required, he'd pay the man. "Cost of doing business in Cartagena, just hope they have a graduated scale", the dark thought bring a sardonic smile to his lips as he grabbed the baggage for his boss and prepared for departure.

Michelle yawned, she was fresh out of a nap. Snow's raspy negativity made him sound like an old crow to her, but she forced herself to smile.

"Come on, according to the news this place has gotten much better! Those C-Pat fellows seem to really know their stuff. We're going to meet the families of our young charges at the Fringe, which is a respected neutral zone, we spend the night in a heavily secured inn, and tomorrow we meet the families again for the last in-person arrangements. Simple. If anything it's a nice vacations from our gangers problems.
About greasing the necessary palms I already took care of it, we won't be bothered."
Michelle turned toward the row behind her. Five kids, two batarians, two turians and an asari of various age were either sleeping or watching a holo.
"Hey", softly said Michelle to those who were awake, "turn your terminals on outside camera mode, we can see the station!"
The kids fiddled with the holographic interface available to them on their armrest, the asari gently helping her younger batarian neighbor, until the terminal in front of them showed a view of Cartagena station, where their families waited for them, after years of separation.



"Aren't you excited?" asked Michelle. "I verified that your families all arrived. Soon you'll be reunited with them, done with the homeless life!"

"We are happy miss Whiskers", answered a turian hesitantly, "it's just that hu... We don't want to get our hopes up yet... You know?"

Michelle knew and nodded. They had all spent years waiting for any signs of their lost families, suffering multiple cruel disillusionment. A part of them assumed this was just one more. Even now two of them would be taken in by relatives, but had learned that their parents didn't make it through the war. Optimism had hurt them too much in the past.

The charity worker found herself at loss with words a little and turned her gaze to Snow. He was sometimes better in such situations.

"Look kid, getting screwed over is always a possiblity, but the one thing worse than that is never knowing. One way or another, you'll be getting answers." Snow retorting to the turian boy's answer, by now knowing that the worst thing you can do to a duct rat is to sugarcoat the news. Appealing to a kid's curious nature was the best way to resolve the situation.

Turning to his soon to be ex-employer, Snow was curious about how fast Miss Rondor had paid the 'entry fee'. "She's been here before, only explanation," thinking as he finished gathering the luggage, signaling to the rats to grab their paltry belongings and prepare for departure. Pushing his misgivings about his boss's deft way with Cartagena down, Snow decided to dedicate himself to his last job, then he would be truly free.

Noting that the asari rat was the defacto leader, Snow let her get the others organized as he raised the hood before hefting Miss Whiskers's luggage, the ex-convict's face and eyes noncommittal as he took the lead in preparing to exit the liner. Benning taught the Red Hood that being overly inquisitve would get him killed or worse, but after dropping the kids off, he could ask around, see if and when Miss Rondor had come to Cartagena, not for his own sake, but for Laykalar and the new him, Shaart.

Blissfully unaware of her chief of security's suspicions, Michelle went in full on tourist mode as soon as they were cleared to leave the port. Displaying the station's map often, taking pictures, reading out loud the story snippets about the various landmarks they were seeing.
Humans, while rare on the station, wouldn't raise much eyebrows, but her behavior, and the fact that she was herding a bunch of children of different species, did.
The station was neither as slick as the Citadel nor as dinky and dark as Omega. Taking the most populated (and secured) arteries, they saw a lot of vary various shops. Everything was sold here, from the most benign articles to drugs and flesh.
Those put the kids on edge. Slavers, at least, were predators they didn't have to fear on the Citadel...

"Cartagena Station, good to see it living down to it's reputation", Snow thinking as he walked with Miss Rondor and the rats towards the hotel. Slaves, drugs, everything that could be bought and sold were on display, it was as if the Terminus was reinforcing the Red Hood's opinion of galactic civilization. That sentient life really didn't deserve to survive, that very thought was etched on his face, a cold glare turning away the most outrageous vendors and touts. Nearing an elevator, Snow took advantage of the break to get Miss Whisker's attention.

"I know you want to reunite these kids with their families, but for fuck's sake...Cartagena?????" Whispering as he took a protective position at the side, letting his body language warn off any prospective vultures lurking at the edges of the waiting area. "This place is fuckin' proof that we as sentient life didn't deserve to survive the war", the harsh judgement slipping through as the elevator finally arrived, Snow shooing the five kids into the elevator first before letting Miss Rondor through and himself to follow.

Michelle's eyes widened at Snow's remark.

"That is awfully nihilistic of you Mr Snow! Slavers are scum of course, but they are a minuscule minority in this station. Most people here are just civilians. The crime rate here is much lower than any other place in the abyss, especially since C-Pat upped their game before the war. And since the families are from various colonies in the abyss, it was the best place to meet them."

As Michelle concluded, the elevator arrived.

"We are almost at the Fringe, it should be down this corridor".

"Compared to what?" Snow gesturing towards the flesh peddlers, the disdain evident as the elevator took the group to the level where the hotel was located. "All I see are a collection of pimps, slingers, and slavers the Reapers somehow managed to miss," the last bringing a far away look to the Red Hood's eyes, remembering everyone that had died in the godforsaken war. "And yet I survived, along with these..." Turning away, Snow pressing down the bile forming in his mouth, his loathing not just for Cartagena Station, but for himself as well.

Stepping out of the elevator first, Snow hefted the luggage as he let Miss Whiskers set the pace. The area around the hotel a welcome change to the vendors they had just left behind. The duct rats following the fluffy do-gooder letting the Red Hood take the rear, allowing the sullen 21 year old a chance to regain his bearing, not to mention survey the area...

"Sure," dismissively answered Michelle, "if you ignore the 90 plus percent of people around here who are just normal folks, going on their business. Of course there are assholes everywhere, and the abyss has more than its share. But there are good people here too. Just you wait.
There we are, the Fringe."



The very large bar had two levels. The dance floor was almost empty at this hour, but most tables around were occupied by a wide variety of individuals. Gangers, businessmen along normal folks took advantage of the security the Fringe offered. Any faction that started something here would find itself at odd not only with C-Pax, but with every other factions that enjoys the existence of a safe zone.
Michelle didn't pay attention to the looks her group drawn. She was looking around for the families. Despite their misgivings the kids were also scanning the crowd frantically.

"Do you see our clients Mr Snow?"

" 'Good people'? And who makes that judgement, never fuckin' mind, I don't want to know." Snow retorting back to his employer, his eyes no longer hiding the loathing he held for Cartagena Station. The Red Hood's very demeanor causing a few bystanders to whisper, others to glare right back as the strange party made their way into the bar. The five children staying silent, though the asari leader of the duct rats looked at the ex-convict with a bit of confusion, that a human regarded all sentient life as worthless but still worked for a charity????? The asari child shook her head in confusion, the humans never failed to surprise.

Nearing the center of the bar, most of the patrons gave the party the once over before going back to their drinks, still, a few of the more belligerent customers gave the Red Hood an eyeing up, as if to tell the human, 'come and have a go if you're hard enough." Right as Snow was about to oblige the more eager barflies, he saw a party at a corner table, four turians, an asari and salarian, and a two batarian couple looking around nervously, "They don't belong either, must be the contact", Snow thought as he got Miss Rondor's attention, "Hey Miss Rondor, looks like that's our contact, unless it's a really ballsy act..."

Everyone followed Snow's gaze, and the kids froze. The first one to break their disbelieving silence was the batarian kid.
"Un... Uncle Goro??"
It broke the spell and suddenly the kids ran to the families and were reunited with their own that they had believed lost for years.
Not everyone reacted the same, the asari hugged each other warmly, the turians were more reserved but exchanged tender headbutts, the batarians laughed and cheered loudly. Some tears were visible too, the joy of finding each other mixed with the sorrow of knowing that not everyone would ever be found again. But it was still a joyous occasion, one of the only the kids have had in the last few years. The reunion drew a lot of surprised gazes from other customers, and Michelle smiled, keeping a polite distance.

"You've got to admit Mr Snow, that's a big perk of the job", she said impishly.