January 18, 2186. It's a cold, snowy late winter day in Freedom Falls, the eastward wind carrying flesh flurries of white that pile up against tree, building, and vehicle alike. Braving this alien weather, Crux and RC arrive at Redrock HQ in the late morning, eyeing the compact, fortified structure with trepidation. It's Crux that steps up to the doors with a wave and an awkward smile to the camera, hand shifting afterwards to shield their
#RedrockAgency – November 18, 2025
face from the wind. They both make their way inside quickly once the doors open, taking in the lobby with fascination, although RC is considerably more subdued than Crux' gawking.
Crux startles a little when Fergus materializes behind the reception desk, but they try to play it off as rolling their shoulders, straightening up and looking to the out-of-place knight. "Woah, that's a cool VI..."
Fergus bows politely. "My thanks, noble ser. I ask that you and your companion identify yourselves and your purpose here at Redrock."
Crux nods and sticks their cold hands in their pockets. They're wearing the yellow jacket they got off of Rae's corpse, as well as several more worn layers underneath. "Uh, I'm Crux, and this is RC." A nod in the batarian's direction. "We're... here to be interviewed?"
Fergus ' face lights up and he gestures animatedly. "Ah, of course! Welcome, brave aspirants! My lieges await you in their offices to commence your interviews. Ser Crux, you will find Lord Wolfe behind the second door on the left, and ser RC, it is the third door that you seek, there you will find Lady Vasquez. Good fortune be with you. Succeed, and we shall speak again as comrades-in-arms!" the hologram exclaims, shaking a gauntleted
RC seems more than a little baffled by the eccentric VI, sharing a puzzled look with Crux, before they both shrug. They make their way down the corridor together until Crux stops outside Jason's office. RC gives their shoulder a bump, serving, together with a moment of eye contact, as a silent, mutual wish of good luck before the batarian continues down to the door to Vasquez' office.
It only takes a moment before the door slides open and a "Come on in." sounds out from the other side. Jason's office is a tad more personable than someone might expect from one leading a PMC with a number of personal photographs decorating the room. Atop his desk, along with a few datapads strewn about, is a photograph, only partially visible given its angle, of himself and Vasquez, his arm across her shoulder. On the wall behind him, a
digital frame is hung on the wall depicting Jason with a goofy grin on his face beside a lanky-framed salarian. And to the left of the door is a waist-high shelf that contains a few more photographs. One appears to be an impromptu photo taken of him with his arms around the same woman in the previous picture, neither look aware of the picture being taken, smiles decorating both of their faces while a second picture depicts them at their
wedding. To the right of the door, however, is a stern reminder of just what this place is. Jason's Revenant is affixed to a mounting system on the wall, serving both as a display piece and easy access should he need it. Beneath it is an armor case, the doors transparent to give a look at the blue and white armor inside, each piece tucked into a padded divot just for it, making it look almost like a blueprint of an exploded suit of armor.
Jason is sat behind his desk in his usual attire. Boots, black cargo pants, and a long sleeved white shirt. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up a bit, giving a glimpse of an expensive-looking pair of military grade cybernetics. Something he most certainly does not seem to have in a few of the pictures decorating the office. He takes a sip from his mug of coffee and gives a nod to the chair opposite of him, leveling a friendly
Crux takes off their snow-covered beanie and stuffs it in a pocket, and then shoots one last glance toward RC before both of them enter the respective offices. Crux' gaze sweeps across the office, taking it in, before centering on the man behind the desk. They bow their head slightly in confirmation and greeting, head angled just enough to the left to make it respectful by batarian standards, but the gesture lacks the stiff formality of
those deeply entangled in the caste system. The young human takes a seat as instructed, gaze inevitably darting briefly to Jason's hands before refocusing on his face. Crux fidgets in their seat, looking unsure what to do or how to act. They don't exactly look much like hired muscle - scrawny, young, and dressed like a vagrant, they look closer to a teenage runaway than a soldier - but there's something in their eyes, something
Jason waits for Crux to settle in before setting his coffee back down. His own composure is relaxed, but his expression is a bit hard to read as he sizes Crux up, unsure of what he was expecting after reading Leah's report. When it's obvious that Crux isn't going to speak up, he opts to fill the air. "Why don't you tell me about yourself." he says, keeping the conversation light.
Crux nods, ceasing the fidgeting and straightening up. "Right. Yeah. I'm Crux. I, uh, I don't know what you've heard, but I do tech. I'm good at it. Really good. I think- I mean, I know I could be useful to you. To your crew. Comms, drones, repairs, software, hardware, maintenance, uh, cyberwarfare and shit? Whatever you need. I can handle it."
Jason gives a few nods, his smile tempering a bit. "So I've been told." he says, and his tone probably makes it obvious to Crux that he's read the reports on what transpired. There's an unspoken implication there and, for a moment, he seems to be wrestling with his thoughts. "I try not to make a habit out of hiring people that try to kill my people." he says. But he quickly relents, blue eyes turning towards his desk for a moment
before seeking Crux out once more. "But-... from what I understand, it was a complicated situation..." he trails off, leaving the air open for Crux to fill.
Crux ' gaze falls away when it becomes obvious that Jason is well aware of what went down outside the home of his employee. One hand reaches up to scratch their neck, briefly revealing the scarred stump where their right pinky once was. "I-... right," is all they manage at first, unease in their eyes at the realization that a lack of a grudge from Leah doesn't necessarily mean the same when it come to Redrock. They swallow and offer an
apologetic tilt of their head. "We-... we didn't know. What the... situation really was. We thought we did, but.. yeah. I guess it was such a good opportunity that it was easy not to ask too many questions..." they admit, voice going a little quieter, but they quickly continue: "And, and then we got there and... and the 'stolen merch' it was all about was a person." The last word is spat out with a flinch. "Just... fuck, that's
not who we are, you know? It's just not. So we didn't go through with it. RC almost died trying to make things right. I know that matters to you guys, if half the shit I've heard is true." Seems someone's been talking about Redrock. Crux is meeting Jason's gaze now, leg bouncing rapidly as their eyes search his for any indication of whether he believes them.
Jason listens without interruption. His own distaste slips out in his expression at the mention of the 'stolen merch' in question. But Crux' final words cause his expression to soften once more. He shifts in his seat, drawing in a heavy breath. "You tried to make things right. I can respect that. But I need to know what kind of baggage you and your friend are bringing with you." he says, but he raises a polymer hand to pause them
before they have a chance to respond. "Really know. I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear." he clarifies. "Those people you were with. Do you have any more ties to them? Or the crew they ran with? From what I understand, they were-...." he trails off, glancing off to the side and sliding one of the datapad on his desk closer, as if checking his notes, "...ex-Talons?