The reply sent was electronic and encrypted:
Ms. O'Reilly,
I am pleased you responded so promptly. There is a small bar nestled nicely away from Purgatory. No offense to your fine establishment, but I detest the loudness and the crowds. I will be in Old Blue Lights bar. I look forward to our conversation.
Faithfully,
Commander Ariel Shepard, Master & Commander SSV Normandy
She sent the message and turned off her omni-tool, certain that the woman would arrive. She had one of her smaller journals with her and a fountain pen. She always found something to write, all written in that old biblical language.
Old Blue Lights bar was a was a small hole in the wall establishment frequented by Alliance officers, catering specifically to the esteemed human cliental. It was where Ariel did most of her business that was outside the military. She sat in the the booth in the darkest corner, her redwood smoking pipe adding to the haze that hovered over every head, tobacco mixing with cigar and cigarette smoke to create a very distinct smell. Her eyes and scars made her easy to find, her casual military uniform a black sweater decorated with the symbols of her service and heritage, her shoulder straight with rank.
A waitress brought the Commander a cup of tea and its accompanying pot, making sure not to disturb the woman as she wrote. She looked up and mouth a quiet and polite ‘thank you’ before resuming her writing.
Shae had never been to the aforementioned bar, but had certainly heard of it. Small, dingy, and dark. Frequented by soldiers—human soldiers. She’d heard there was some unwritten rule that other species were unwelcome. It put her slightly on edge.
She walked in nevertheless, feeling entirely out of place in her beige pea coat and knee-high boots. She did her best to ignore the sideways glances she received as she walked toward the telltale glow of cybernetics under marred skin. When she reached Shepard’s table, she gave a polite grin and extended her hand. “Commander. It’s a pleasure.”