A humanoid in black and blue armor, a helmet over the head with a silver visor, scanned the crowds, looking for the one she sought. Of course, she did get some looks, but the woman -- it was a woman -- wasn't really a concern. She did have her usual combat knife and her bigger machete, respectively on her chest sheath and over her backside, and had her M6S Automag and M7S submachine gun as well, but that was mostly to show she was meaning business. It could probably help, yes, but she didn't have the equipment to deal with a place like this. Probably would need an upgrade.

Sergeant Azumi Ian spotted her contact, sitting at the table with Cetea T'Zumo. "So, any intel?" she asked, noticing someone nearby. Maybe others? Uncertain, but this one, a man in dark clothing and no armor drinking at the bar, was a good ally. She would think about what to do with him if they had to speak.

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"Hey, barkeep," a male voice called to the turian bartender, the owner ignoring the dancers on the higher level. Or...mostly ignoring them. They were a bit of a sight. "Got something for me?" An orange, holographic omni-tool was activated on the left arm and waved to give the money needed, and a drink slid his way. "That's a good man."

Isaac Zivaku had had a little while since he had split up from Cheryl. Nothing personal, of course. They just both needed some time to get their things in order. After meeting the Pack, the defeat of Greece's Hades to the hand of the Ghost of Sparta, and the trip to New Marais, he just wanted to relax, to find her perhaps? Unknown. He was in his usual attire, no armor, just his clothing and omni-tool on his arm. Speaking of...

[i]"I can tell drinking is going to help your mental state immensely, but there are quieter places to kill yourself than Omega."[/i] K1-R4 was residing within, taking track of all that had been going on. The death of a man who drank poisoned alcohol. The subsequent death of the batarian bartender who had given the drink in the first place to kill him. The appearance of a new, turian one who was relatively nice.

Isaac rolled his eyes, tapping the Collector assault rifle on his back. "We'll be fine, Kira. Just be quiet. Nobody wants to know you exist." There was a look from the bartender, but he ignored it, taking a swig. He did know that someone familiar had entered, but his saber under his seat was watching for him. Azumi Ian? Interesting.