Tarka bounced back numbly as the others made a grab for him. Weapons were forbidden for unauthorized personnel, but luckily, they were also banned for off-duty security guards. He tried to block but caught a glancing blow on his cheek. The fist flew nearly before he could register it. I am truly sorry the rest of the station has to look at your ugly, intoxicated face." Damn it.so close to not causing a scene.īack home that would have got him punched. His better judgement told him to do as he was asked, and then turn his back.
" You're talking to one of the heroes of the uprising!" The others snickered, " you better apologize."įrom what Tarka had read there were not too many 'heroes' in that event. Tarka thought of a few things to say, none of them productive. " Hey! You wanna watsch whereyou're going?" The turian bumped into him and staggered backwards. So entranced in the beauty of the station was he that he didn't see the group of off-duty security guards, tilting dangerously from their celebratory time in the Vortex, coming towards him. The last thing he wanted was to 'go dark' here. It looked completely natural, and he was assured that it had the necessary UV levels for his species. Light glinted off the new floor plates and he was grateful they'd taken such care with the lighting. The docks were up ahead, though he took his time, sauntering casually and drinking in the sights. Tarka felt a sort of pride knowing he was one of the first.
There weren't many Angara on the Nexus, just a few brave souls who decided to come here instead of rotating back to Voeld or Havaarl after their time lot on Aya. Yet with the vast parkland, housing arrays and recreational areas, Tarka couldn't deny that it was also built to be a home. He had been told that it was designed to reflect what was called 'The Citadel', which was a sort of seat for a galactic council. The Nexus was immense, it was hard to believe that something like this had come from so far away. Even after three weeks of being aboard the massive station.
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