MassEffectRP

Samuil Sobakov had been on this planet for less than a week, and he liked it. It reminded him of omega, just without the threat of depressurization.

He sat alone in a private booth at his favourite bar, watching the crowd. He was one of the few people there who appreciated the tavern motif. Every one else who came here did so to get drunk, fight, and have sex; Occasionally all at the same time. Not that any of it bothered him. Sam couldn't recall a time when it did.

A scantily clad Asari approached the table with a silver tray and picked up Sam's empty bottles.

"I'll bring you out another bottle soon, deary." The asari said in the most seductive way she could have possibly mustered.

"It usually takes a week or two of constant modification before Asari usually start calling me deary." Sam thought aloud. After a pause, Sam clued back into reality. "Pardon my manners sweet, thank you."

The Asari seemed a bit disturbed by what he had said. She turned and walked away. As she turned, Sam noticed a small chip on the back of her neck. It was a common sight around here. The chips acted as shock collars, but less noticeable. They were most commonly used to incapacitate rowdy sex slaves in brothels, but Sam had seen them used for almost all other types of permanent slaves as well. He used the zoom function to follow the chip as the Asari made her way back across the room. An insignia on the corner denoted that the chip was made on Omega, which he found odd considering they were being manufactured here as well for cheaper. The slave must have started out on omega and then shipped here, he guessed. It's the only conclusion that made sense.

Sam went back to staring at the empty bench across from him, waiting for either his new bottle of watered-down vodka to arrive or for his client to show up.