Chapter Text
Omega.
It had been all of thirty seconds since Sana had stepped off the transport, and she was already reaching for the menthol balm she knew wouldn’t be in her pocket. She’d done plenty of rotations in the morgue during her years of internship on Thessia—she hadn’t expected to find the same here on the fringes of the Terminus Systems.
She adjusted the pack on her shoulder and brought up her omni-tool, putting in a quick bulk order for the balm. Her nose would just have to deal with the malodor in the meantime.
“You’re gonna die here, you know.”
Sana’s fingers stuttered before she could finish placing the order. Turning slowly, she caught sight of a salarian—bluish with purple markings swooping around their eyes and brow—blinking up at her.
She was absolutely certain this false prophet was just trying to get to her. Omega was infamous for its lawlessness, its lowly snake-oil salesmen, its desperate swindlers. As far as she was concerned, they were just trying to get by, same as anyone. Both engaging and rebuffing this morbid soothsayer were equally inadvisable.
After all, she had no intention of dying here. Omega was just a stopover. A place to get her head on straight, to get her hands dirty, to desanitize her practice, help the people who need it most, who have the least access to help.
Sana shrugged, adjusting her pack for a second time, and turned away from the hapless fortuneteller to make her way through the docks. If she really wanted to help people, she’d need to set up a place for them to go. Real estate on Omega was far more expensive than even on Thessia—the gangs here made sure of that—but she’d saved up plenty. But that was irrelevant. Even if it wiped her out, all she needed was a foothold.
An explosion shook the floor plating, and Sana paused, waiting for something else to happen. No one—not the dock workers, not the heavily armed muscle patrolling the area, not even the recent arrivals—seemed to be fazed by the bass reverberations she felt even in her bones.
“Mine explosion,” a voice said behind her. “Based on the aftershock, I’d say probably a couple slaves died. No big deal.”
Sana turned to see that same bluish salarian with purple markings at her side, scrolling through their omni-tool. That was funny. One of those pictures almost looked like—
She reached for their arm, but they pulled away, palming her face with their other hand to keep her at arm’s length.
“Hierarchy brat, I see,” they said, their eyes scanning rapidly through the information they’d cloned from her omni-tool. “A doctor too. Well, that’s two strikes against you, and—ah yes, here we go, someone who will miss you. A sister? A lover? It’s hard to tell. You asari all look the same to me. You really shouldn’t keep information like this so accessible.”
The salarian released her and Sana fell forward, still grabbing for their arm but they were already gone. “Like I said, you’re gonna die here.”
Rage boiled in Sana’s chest and she charged forward without thinking. She buried her shoulder in the salarian’s spine and wrapped one arm around their waist, grasping wildly for the arm with their omni-tool.
They hit the ground together, knocking the breath from her lungs. “Delete it,” she hissed. “Delete it, or I’ll—”
The click and whine of rifles loading and powering up to fire stopped Sana. She looked up to see two krogan locked onto her and waiting for her next move.
The salarian chuckled beneath her. “It’s okay. Erus. Krannk. Everything is fine. Right, asari?”
Sana released them and fell back, moving away from the krogan who were clearly looking for a reason to pull the trigger.
The salarian stood up, brushing at their knees, and turned toward Sana, offering a hand. “Maybe you’ll fit in here after all,” they said. “Raegor Laika.”
For a moment, Sana looked back and forth between the hand and the salarian offering it. Was this a trick? Omega was full of con artists and the worst, most dishonest sort. Would she regret it if she took their hand?
Slowly, she put her hand in theirs and let them lift her up.
A smile spread to their eyes, and they clapped her on the shoulder. “What’s a doctor like you doing in a shithole like Omega? Lose that silver spoon of yours?”
Sana rolled her eyes. “You just said it. Omega is a shithole. What better place for a doctor to be?”
They blinked their eyes sideways, an exasperated expression if Sana’d ever seen one. “An idealist. All right then. Well, at least you can throw a punch. Do you have any muscle with you?”
Sana crossed her arms. “I’m asari. Ergo, I’m botic. The only muscle I need is my brain.”
Raegor burst into a full belly laugh. They even went so far as to fall forward and lean on Sana’s shoulder while they clutched their stomach. Sana sighed, waiting for the dramatics to wrap up.
“That’s too funny,” they said, wiping at a nonexistent tear at the corner of their eye. “For a minute there it almost sounded like you intend to make it completely on your own here.”
She shrugged away the hand still on her shoulder and started to walk away. “I’ve made it everywhere else on my own. Why not here?”
The quick pit-pat of footfalls behind her was the only warning she had before Reagor was in front of her again. “Okay, I’m back to my first warning. You’re gonna die here. But if you’d prefer not to, come find me. You’re interesting and I’d rather you didn’t die before I get bored with you.”
Sana felt her wrist buzz and knew they’d added their information to her contact folder.
There was no way she was ever going to call them. She had a clinic to get started, and she had no interest in anyone sidetracking her for their own amusement. Omega might be the end of the line for most people, but for Sana, it was just the beginning.