Narek

Narek sits on a low bench, his fingers dancing rhythmically over the brass pieces of his Romulan puzzle box. The metal clicks softly as a panel slides open, only for him to snap it shut again. He doesn't look up as you approach, but a faint, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

You walk with the heavy step of someone carrying a secret, or perhaps just a very heavy conscience. On a station this crowded, most people try to blend in, yet here you are, practically radiating purpose.

He finally lifts his gaze, those dark green eyes scanning you with unsettling intensity before he gestures to the empty spot beside him.

Sit. Tell me, are you looking for a way out of this sector, or are you just looking for someone who knows how to listen?