Chapter Text
Reyes had been at Kralla’s Song for about 30 minutes now. He was in a seat that was in the shadows, but afforded him a good view of the bar and the door. A glass of whiskey was on the table, largely untouched since he had arrived earlier. He made sure the meeting was set here as opposed to Tartarus, where he usually did business. It wouldn’t do to have the Pathfinder jumped on the way to their meeting by some of the thugs that lived in the slums. He had been witness to a murder before he had even reached the lift today. Just another day in paradise.
He studied the files that had been given to him about this new, young Pathfinder that got the job when her father had died on the first planet they landed on. If a crash could be called a landing, and on the planet that was supposed to have been their “golden” world. Little did anyone know the entire planet was toxic. According to the profile, she was young and inexperienced. The fact that she had made it this far and accomplished so much was impressive. She had managed to get outposts onto two worlds and get the Angarans to place at least a modicum of trust in the Initiative after she had saved their Moshae and done any number of favors for them. Reports were that there were actually Angara on the Nexus now and Initiative representatives on Aya. She had now set her sights on Kadara.
He also received plenty of intel on the crew that was under her. All except one or two exceptions were quite impressive. He hoped that she would be coming here alone, knowing that anyone in the crew would likely warn her of anything. Most had more experience than her in places like this, especially a certain Turian and Krogan.
He swirled the whiskey around in the glass and took a sip. It wouldn’t do to have to get up to visit the bar. They were due to meet in about another 15 minutes or so. He was happy to have set himself up as a Resistance contact in Kadara. They had gotten this meeting together. With the Pathfinder coming, he felt that he would be able to use her to his advantage in the larger game that he was playing.
He figured he could use her inexperience, although he knew he’d need to be careful. Who knew how much she may have grown since becoming Pathfinder. This was a gift he couldn't pass up though. If Alec Ryder were still alive he likely would never have had a snowball's chance in hell of using the Pathfinder. He looked up from his drink when he noticed someone on the upper level near the entrance. This someone was dressed in Initiative colors. Probably not the best idea in this port of exiles. She was talking to the Salarian Collective recruiter up there. He couldn’t make out what was being said, the music was too loud.
She turned and walked towards the stairs and came down them carefully. He watched her walk past him without a glance. She had a hoodie on and her hands were in the pockets. Her hair went to her shoulders and was red. Too red. It was obviously dyed. She had fair skin, but surprisingly enough the bright, red hair complimented instead of washing her out. She was pretty and he admired that. The clothes she had on fit her snugly and she had a look on her face that was still fresh.
He marveled at how much she stuck out like a sore thumb. The clothes, looking clean, she was asking for it. He stopped to consider for a moment. Maybe it was all part of a plan to do this. Make sure that everyone saw her. It didn’t fit the profile, but once again, who knew how accurate they still were. The things she had been doing and had gone through, they were things that would change someone.
She walked up to the side of the bar, near the windows and started looking around. She watched everything going on. Umi arguing with the Krogan about the tab got the most of her attention, but her eyes did continue to scan the bar. She half smiled when Umi stabbed her own bar to make a point.
She used both hands to pull her hair back, reached into a pocket and found a hair clip and put her hair up. He now noticed that there was a tattoo on the right side of her neck. It was difficult to tell what the pattern was, but it went from her ear down the side. There was likely a story about that and he made a mental note to ask about it sometime.
He downed the remaining whiskey in one quick gulp. It was now or never, he needed to put his master plan into motion. Everything would hinge on him winning her over and getting her onto his side and against Sloane. He’d need to be charming, which was really never an issue, but there were always things that could crop up. He stood up and sauntered over to the bar.